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#I can’t cook for shit but I’ll learn for my hungry boys <3
frecklystars · 6 months
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Me cooking dinner for everyone (all my Ryan F/Os) Ken has to come by with another plate and I’m like “didn’t I just give you an entire burger” and Ken says yeah but he needs another because K took his food and then Luke says “yeah he ate my food too” and K is at the table in tears shoving spoonfuls of fresh veggies and meat in his mouth openly weeping “I’ve been eating nothing but instant protein-grub noodles and rice for my entire life Please just Let me Have This I Beg of You”
#i burn the eggs by accident he says no problem and still eats them saying they’re amazing#meanwhile ken is having trouble trying to eat the food that isn’t plastic#he’s like what do you mean I can’t just imagine taking a bite. oh god. this burger is huge. how do I fit my mouth around it#Six is absolutely housing an entire stack of pancakes all by himself in the corner of the room he’s not letting anyone have it#Colt is butting heads with him#no I don’t know Colt yet but he’s included. what food does he like? don’t know yet... MY COOKING#I can’t cook for shit but I’ll learn for my hungry boys <3#that was painful to type I’ll never say that again Lmfao#i make apple pie just for driver bc I know he likes it#driver nuzzles me the entire time I’m baking he’s snuggly asf. he’s exhausted too#stayed up all night on a getaway job. knows I stayed up all night having nightmares and being unable to sleep again#he gets it. he doesn't force me to try to sleep he knows i can't. but he encourages me to lay down after cooking#and to rest my eyes for a bit. and then it turns into a huge snuggle pile#we've got [counting on fingers] one two three... ten... a dozen Gosling F/Os#one of my best friends says it's like a flock of baby geese following me around SLKDFJSLFSDF#so fucking cute#Luke is canonically snuggly. idk Jacob or Holland yet... I'd want them to cuddle too#all of them are trying to have contact w/ me in SOME way once we're snuggled in bed#Ken's gotta hold my hand and put his head on my tummy HE'S GOTTA. or he'll PERISH#Lars isn't one for touch very often unless if he's the right person. I am that Right Person#but he will still just hold my hand and let everyone else do the full body snuggling#K's sitting up just like Six is when he's resting. alert. protective#Six is relieved he doesn't have to tie his shoelace to the door or worry abt intruders. he can just fall the fuck ASLEEP#they've all got full tummies and maybe some of them chat with each other#while others are like SHH LET KERI SLEEP. but im like no no your voices are like angels to me pls keep talking#esp Luke and Sebastian their rasps will lull me easily#love notes
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baecvlt · 3 years
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Stalker Nagito Komaeda x Milf!Reader
this was requested via my twitter:
“Hey! i’ve seen your works and I’m in love. Can I request smut where a stalker Nagito Komaeda becomes obsessed with a milf reader who moves into the neighborhood who’s like a dom in bed and ya know just large bust and taller than him. Thank youuu🤍”
a/n: ofc. but I have my own idea of a dom which i’ll use involving certain things (heed warnings)
warnings: he is so obviously a virgin in this, degradation, slight masochism, asphyxiation, spit, also Nagito calls the reader mommy (side note: nagito is in his early 20s in this, he lives alone. age of reader isn’t specified BUT I say she’s in her late 20s/early 30s)
• • •
It was a bright day...which Nagito despised. It was summer. He hated the sun, hated the mosquitoes, and the unnecessary humidity. It was days like these he wishes he was back at his university dorm. The A/C, the tall tree covering his window and blocking the sun...it was perfect. Hell, he didn’t even hate classes. Yet, he couldn’t live in the dorms forever. When it came time to buy a home, he stupidly did so in fall, moved in during the winter.
Well, no shit the home seemed perfect then. It wasn’t fucking summer. His A/C decided to break, his windows has a great view of the sun, and most of his friends were out of town (all except Hajime, but Hajime is fucking boring and a bummer). Nagito sat on his couch, watching reruns of old tv shows. He took a sip from his nearby glass (cold water), suddenly hearing sounds of what appeared to be a loading van. He looked outside his window.
A moving van?
Right, that one old man who lived there passed away. Freak accident, by the way. Oh well, may he rest in peace. Meanwhile, Nagito was being himself and trying to see who it was. Pretty much, the dude was being nosy. He saw another car pull up. That must’ve been the family’s car. Out jumped 3 kids, what appeared to be 2 girls and 1 boy. An adult stepped out. Nagito decided he’d get a better look at the situation. He put on his shirt, black jeans, and his green hood.
He was “going for a walk”.
Without being noticed, he made his way to the other side of the street. It was a woman, she was taking boxes out of the truck. The minute Nagito saw her it was if he was stricken by Cupid’s arrow. She was tall and beautiful. Her skin complimented her hair and her legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Her breasts...he needed to stop—
“Hi!”
She was in front of him, a warm and inviting smile on her face. “H-Hi,” he muttered. She didn’t hear him well, so it helped that he waved. “I’m new in the neighborhood. We just moved in,” she added, putting the box down. She stuck her hand out, going for a handshake. He shook her hand, her warm hand against his cold ones. Why are his hands always cold? “I see,” he responded, getting his shit together,“I’m Nagito Komaeda. I live across the street”. She introduced herself and complimented his house.
“What a lovely home. I hope the neighborhood is just as lovely”
“It should be. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not many families here. Say, can I help you pack?”
“You’re too sweet! I’d really appreciate it”
He helped take all the boxes in her home, helping load a couch too, and help with other large objects. They finished in 9 hours, taking a majority of the day. “Thanks for helping out, Nagito”. She made a lemonade, handing him a glass.
“Don’t mention it! Also, thank you”
One of the kids ran in the living room where they sat on the couch. He gasped when he saw Nagito. “Mommy! That man looks dead!!!”. Nagito smiled, but his mom was not amused. “Michael! Apologize..”. The kid kept smiling and said,“Sorry!”. He ran to another room. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. Nagito shook his head.
“Hey, I’m rather malnourished”
“Ha. On an unrelated topic, are you hungry? I could make us something”
“Oh, I shouldn’t linger any longer. I wouldn’t want to disturb your husband”
She laughed. “I know you mean no harm, but I’m not married,” she added. “Oh,” Nagito muttered,“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it in any way”. She shook her head and reassured him it was fine. “Sit, Nagito,” she pulled out a chair,“I’m not letting you refuse having dinner with us. Especially since you were such help”. She rubbed his back before heading back into the kitchen to begin cooking.
She made him a bowl of pasta, adding chicken on the side. Nagito was quite happy. He hadn’t eaten a good meal in so long. Her kids didn’t eat at the table, but on the counter. Meanwhile, she ate with Nagito. Just as Nagito thought he couldn’t grow fonder of her, he did just that. All she did was let him talk about himself.
“Jesus, I’m sorry about your parents? How are you keeping yourself afloat with university and expenses?”
“Academic scholarships”
“Wow, you’re such a smart boy”
The way she phrased it made him flustered. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am,” he muttered,“I haven’t eaten like this in who knows how long”. She smiled tenderly, picking up his empty plate. “Seconds?”. He shook his head.
“No, thank you. I’m already so full”
“I’m glad. You know, there’s always a meal for you in store if you can do me a favor”
“What’s that?”
“My oldest daughter has her final test this week. You think you can help her study? I’ll make you a nice, warm meal every time you come over”
Nagito thought about it. He would also have time around her. Plus, she wasn’t a bad cook. “Of course, I look forward to it,” he told her. “Lovely”. He got up and excused himself to go home. “It was nice having you over, Nagito,” she said softly. He could tell she was getting sleepy. When people are tired, Nagito has noticed that their tone is rather sheepish. She walked him to the door, ruffling his hair playfully and he blushed. “Goodnight, neighbor”.
“Goodnight, you”
Before he left, she stopped him and handed him a paper: (xxx) xxx-xxxx ♡
“Call me when you get home so I have your number saved. Then, I can call you when my daughter, Vanessa, needs help. Take care, okay?”
He nodded.
She closed the door, his thoughts racing on his way home. He picked up some things about her, things she didn’t even tell him. He went home and opened a notebook, writing all of it down. He called her and she answered, her voice as sweet as when he left (only sleepier). “Hello?”. His breath was heavy without realizing it as he spoke. “H-Hey, you told me to call you,” he breathed,“It’s Nagito...Komaeda”
“Oh, hey, angel! I’m not interrupting anything am I?”
“What? No, it’s all good— why’d you think so?”
“You sound like you need to catch your breath, but anyway, thanks for calling me. I’ve saved your number now”
“Oh, great! Well, if that’s all, I’ll let you go to bed now”
“It was. Goodnight, Nagito”
“G-Goodnight”
He hung up, flustered more than ever as he continued to jot down his thoughts on paper. The next day, he woke up at 6am to wait in his car. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. At around 7:41am, his front neighbor and kids headed for their car. Nagito, who had taken a light nap in the driver’s seat, was awoken by the car starting. He waited for the car to drive away just slightly past his house to start his own car, slowly tailing behind her.
He dropped her kids off at the nearby elementary. She got off, kissed them on their forehead (all minus the eldest, who walked swiftly through the gates). Seeing how she cared for them made Nagito feel bad, but all he did was brush that feeling off. Next, he followed her through her daily. As he did, his notes from last night echoed through his mind, adding new detail.
“She works at an office not everyday She doesn’t have allergies but is sensitive to dust Red seems to be her favorite color but always in a darker shade Her daughter is around 10 years old She isn’t vegan but enjoys almond milk Maybe has an issues with abandonment but I can’t assume that either She buys many apples but not the same amount of bananas at the store so maybe she only eats the bananas—”
Just more to add to his notebook.
He got home before she did, writing down what he had learned. His phone rang about an hour later of him getting home. He picked it up,“Hello?”. “Nagito, hi!”. It was her. He started having a mini-panic attack, because why would she be calling him? “H-Hey, how are you?”
“I’m doing alright. I was wondering if you could come over and tutor Vanessa”
Oh, thank god.
“Yes, of course. I’ll be down there right now”
“Great. See you then!”
He was relieved, heading to her home happily. He knocked on the door. When she opened it, she did so with the same warm smile as yesterday. “Thank you for coming over,” she said,“She’s in her room”. Nagito nodded, freezing when she grabbed his hand and took him to the room. Her touch was so soft, noted. They got to the room, where a girl was reading a book on a desk. “Nessa?”. The girl turned around.
“Nagito is going to be here for a few hours to help you out with homework and studying. He’s really smart, so pay attention and be respectful”
“Okay, mom”
She nodded, squeezing Nagito’s shoulder before leaving. Nagito approached the girl, she took her things out. Before he could speak, she stopped him. “Please don’t call me ‘Nessa’,” she whispered,“It’s bad enough my mom does, but not you, Please”.
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on referring to you at all”
“Bastard”
“Nessa”
“I guess I walked right into that one”
Nagito laughed, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. Her work wasn’t what he expected. Is this what they’re teaching kids now? He could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen this type of stuff until he hit middle school. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, but damn. All in all, tutoring went well. Vanessa actually learned something today. “Good job!,” he said. “Thank you,” she smiled and hugged him,“I felt so stupid”.
“Hey, its okay not to understand things”
Her mom walked in. “Dinner’s ready”. Vanessa got up and went to the kitchen. “How’d it go?,” she asked Nagito. “Went well, she gets the math now,” he answered. She smiled, thanking him for his help and asking him to join them for dinner. He’d be foolish not to, so he accepted the invite.
Fish tacos were served tonight with rice and beans, another lemonade made. It was different than anything Nagito had ever had, but that doesn’t equate to bad. He actually enjoyed the meal. The kids sat at the main table today, much more respectful than yesterday. “Michael how was school?”. He put a thumbs up, getting back to eating. “And Adrianna?”. She looked up from her meal and shrugged. “What’s wrong?”.
“I’m tired, but class was okay”
“Oh, okay. When you’re done, just take a quick shower and get to bed”
“Thanks”
Nagito thought it was endearing. Seeing how understanding and loving she was, it was refreshing. The kids all eventually left, Nagito finishing his meal. “Did you like it?”. He looked at her, nodding. “Great! Seconds?”.
“Full again. I don’t usually eat, but your food is always so good”
“Oh, you’re just saying things...”
“No, really! Thank you”
He said his goodbyes to the family, walking back home. It was as if he was falling for this woman more and more everyday. He went to sleep, this time dreaming of her. He never dreams, but this time he dreamt she was on her knees for him. Then, nothing else. It was as if his dream teased him.
The next morning, he woke up to some knocking on the door. He looked at the time. 8:23am. He put on a pair of jeans and his shirt, walking to his door. He opened it and there she stood, wearing a black dress and red heels. He assumed she had work and needed a favor before going. “Good morning,” he said.
“Were you following me yesterday?”
Shit.
“I, uh...,” he didn’t know what to answer. He was indeed following her yesterday. He also liked her, so if he straight up said that he was to following her, it’d ruin things. His face was glowing a shade of pink to a slight red as he thought of the right answer. He was still stumbling over his words. “I think it’s kinda cute,” she added. The fuck? “Huh?”. She pushed him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind him. “When a boy follows someone around, it’s because he wants something,” she added, but her tone was so sultry,“Well, Nagito—”. She pushed him onto the couch, leaning in front of him with her hands on his chest.
“—What do you want?”
None of what was happening felt real. Nagito couldn’t find the words to express what exactly he wanted. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, it wasn’t a bad one either. He began to panic when she straddled him. “Could it be that you wanted me?,” she asked. He frantically nodded and she laughed as she locked her lips with his. He gasped against her lips, kissing back. She slowly trailed her kisses down to his neck, cupping his jaw while grinding on his lap. Nagito moaned, his shaky hands grabbing her ass. She grabbed his hands and put them away from her. “It’s cute that you’re getting this carried away”.
“I’m sorry”
“No time to apologize. Get on your knees for mommy”
Nagito was about to lose his mind when she said that, but he obeyed. Her presence was domineering as he stood on his knees against his carpeted floor. She spread her legs, noticing Nagito desperately trying to get a look. Her red heel stopped him, stepping on his head lightly. “Am I teasing you?,” she asked,“It’s okay to be honest”.
“Y-You are, but its okay. I want to be teased by you”
“You’re adorable,” she took her heel off his head,“Let’s go to your room”.
He practically ran to his bed. He sat and waited patiently. She entered the room, heading to his bed. She began to take off his shirt, admiring his frame. She then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He kicked them off and sat down. She sat next to him. “Give me your hands”. She held them, frowning slightly. “Boo, they’re so cold,” she teased,“I’ll warm them up for you”. Carefully, she grabbed his left hand, putting his middle and ring finger in her mouth. She licked to his fingertips, leaving him tense and speechless. She stopped and smiled at him.
“This is your first time, isn’t it?”
He nodded shyly. “Don’t be shy,” she said,“I’m going to guide you, but I’m also going to have my fun”. He gulped, nodded. She stood up and removed her dress. She wore a lacy black bra and panties. She brought his hands to her breasts, allowing him to fondle them. They were huge in his hands. “You like them, baby?”. “Y-Yes,” he muttered,“Can you, uh, take....the bra off?”. He was ashamed when asking, he felt desperate. She smiled and nodded, unhooking it and allowing the bra to fall to the ground. He gasped at the sight of her tits, grabbing them. She straddled him.
“Do you know what to do with them?”
He nodded, rubbing one and sucking the other. She moaned sweetly, grinding on his lap. He popped his mouth off them. That was when she took the opportunity to knock him onto the bed. She began to make out with him, shoving his tongue down her throat. They lay sideways. Her hand was on his neck, slightly choking him. He couldn’t resist but try to grind on her lap. She laughed. “Look at you,” she mocked,“Humping my leg like a desperate little puppy”. She didn’t let him speak, sitting up and pushing him back down. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she whispered in his ear,“Take your cock out”.
He was nervous as he did, hands shaky. She blushed a bit at his size. “It’s so big,” she said, straddling him,“I’m going to have my way with it”. “Please, do what you want to me,” he begged,“Abuse me, please”. She didn’t speak, sinking down on it. Nagito gasped, she was extremely wet. She began to bring her hips up and land straight down on it, repeatedly. She put her hands around his throat, now being rougher. Nagito gasped for air, grabbing her hands.
That was a mistake.
“Hands down,” she ordered, striking him across the face. “Sorr-”. He was slapped once again. “Only speak when you’re spoken to”. He nodded as his stomach began to cave in. His cock twitched each time she slapped him, making her moan. She leaned forward, capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He winced, his hands tangling in the sheets. He felt as though his entire body was blushing.
“You’re so sensitive there”
She teased him, kissing the skin and nibbling. His hips involuntarily snapped upward, making her whine. “You’re so desperate, baby,” she laughed,“it’s so cute”. He could feel her warmth running along his cock. He bit into his hand, trying to stop himself from cumming inside her. It worked, but she didn’t like him doing that. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.
“Don’t hurt yourself, put them right here”
She placed them on her boobs. He watched them bounce up and down, grabbing them gently. His rather large hands seemed small on her tits. He was extremely flushed. He took them off her and placed them on her hips. “Open your mouth”. He lay back more and did as he was told. She leaned forward, grabbing his jaw again as she spit into it and kissed him. He moaned when she did, his urges getting the best to him and thrusting upward. He hit her cervix every time, causing her to produce the sweetest and sluttiest of moans. Her walls tightened around him and now he was whining. “Are you gonna cum, honeybun?,” she asked.
“Y-Yes..”
“Where do you wanna cum?”
“I wanna cum...everywhere. I want it. I want it so bad. I wanna cum inside and on your tits, on your ass, y-your face..mouth. Please let me cum, mommy”
She motivated him, riding him harder. “Come on, Nagito,” she whispered,“Cum for mommy. Cum all the way inside her”. He lost his mind after that, groaning as he shot his load(s) inside her. He was still inside her as he tried catching his breath. She rubbed his chest, shushing him. “Good boy, you did so well,” she cooed,“Such a good boy.” He was covering his face, embarrassed and still hard. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?,” she asked. He shook his head, thinking,“Not rough enough”. He whined when she got off, revealing he was still erect. She noticed.
“You wanna go again, baby? Kids don’t leave school till 2:30. We have time for an extra fuck”
“C-Can I?”
“Yes, dummy”
She let Nagito choose how to fuck her. He wanted missionary, mostly because he craved intimacy and she did not disappoint. She kissed and praised him, telling him he was good. She held onto him the whole time and cuddled him afterwards. Nagito felt so special, he felt loved. “I can come over when I don’t have work,” she said,“Would you like that?”.
“I’d love that actually”
“You make me happy, Nagito. I could stay here and cuddle all day”
“I feel so lucky”
He yawned, looking at the clock. “Its 10,” he told her. She nuzzled his chest, humming. “Mmmm, let’s take a small nap,” she whispered,“Okay?”. “Okay”. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, slowly joining her in slumber.
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kodzuvii · 3 years
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CLUB STUPID [EXTRA: there’s a pretty girl in our kitchen]
PAIRING - suna x fem!reader ft. suna rizu aka the little sister :)
GENRE - crack + fluff
warning - just grammar and spelling mistakes lol + y/n cuts her finger + y/n is implied to be really short + suna is a bit ooc but that’s because he’s a simp for you <3
wc - 7k
SYNOPSIS - Club Stupid, an anonymous podcast meant for the dumb and dumbest to send in unspoken and nonsensical thoughts about issues they face in their day to day lives and for Y/n to speak out and give her opinions and feelings. Normal feelings though, nothing romantic like how she thinks this lazy guy with questionable hair in the volleyball club is actually pretty cute.
a/n: bringing this baby back because we recently hit 5k notes :D this is also my peace offering for my sudden absence on this blog LMAO sit back and enjoy as we catch up with suna and yn as well as witness whipped!suna 
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[Somewhere at the start of December]
“I don’t understand”
“Don’t understand what?”
“You’re the one who failed your test, why am I the one buying groceries?”
“Because I paid during our last date”
“Rin, I’m helping you study. Does this even count as a date?” 
You looked down at your hands that were holding bags full of ingredients you needed to make some sukiyaki. With the boys being on break from volleyball, Suna had texted you after school asking for help to review for a retake on a test he failed. 
You had to take a double-take while reading the text because, Suna? Studying? Willingly? A rare combination.
The original plan was to go straight to his house since his family owned a really nice kotatsu table that also acted as a couch. With winter settling in and the weather starting to get much colder, you and Suna quickly realized that neither of you enjoyed going out during this time of the year. Sure, the snowflakes were pretty, but sitting comfortably under a warm kotatsu surrounded by snacks while you tried to get his mind around trigonometry sounded more appealing
Suna looked down at you, “You’re acting as if you’re not craving a hot pot right now,” You rolled your eyes, “I never said I wasn’t craving it, I just know that I’m gonna be doing most of the work because your ass can’t cook” you reasoned. Suna shrugged, “not my fault you decided to upgrade your cooking skills during the past 5 months we’ve been together” You rolled your eyes and buried your face deeper into Suna’s scarf that was wrapped around your neck in an attempt to cover up the blush rising up on your cheeks. 
A smug smile came upon Suna’s lips as he watched you get embarrassed. You two were still going strong and had hit 5 months just a week ago. Even though you both had your minor little arguments here and there, you were both still content and happy with each other. 
With 5 months flying by, Suna didn’t think that it was possible for him to fall for you even more. By now, you had both settled into a comfortable state in your relationship. Regular dates about once or twice during the week with a couple of sleepovers and late-night facetime calls thrown in between. Since it was colder, he had at least two hoodies on him at all times. One for you and one for him (but he wouldn’t mind if you took both.) He enjoyed seeing the sight of you curled up in his hoodie when you stayed over at his place or when found himself keeping you company as you edited your podcast for the week.
Once the second semester of the school year started, you started to branch out a little bit more on your own and found yourself being busier as you started joining clubs of your own interest. 
Sure Suna was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t be seeing you sitting by the bleachers anymore during practice, but he understood that you had your own passions and needed your own group of friends outside of the boys on volleyball team.
He liked seeing the smile on your face when you talked to him about something your friend had said or about how fun of a day you had after hanging out with them. He had to reassure you many times that he didn’t mind you hanging out with other people at all, you both knew and did your best to balance your time with friends and each other anyways.
Plus, he thought it was quite cute that you’d always give him a quick kiss on the cheek when you’d walk by the water fountain before running off with your club members.
[“Suna hurry up!” he heard Atsumu call for him by the entrance of the gym. 
Suna spared him one glance before straightening himself up and lifting his palm off the button of the water fountain. He gave the setter a nod as he wiped the corner of his lip with the back of his hand. 
Just then, he could hear a familiar voice calling for his name behind him. Not too long after that, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a chaste kiss pressed on his cheek. The corner of his lip twitched up and he looked down to meet your e/c eyes. “Hey bub, don’t you have club activities?” he asked. You nodded, still not letting go of his waist, “just wanted to come and say hello, so...hello” you grinned. Suna smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple, “well hello to you too” he muttered before wrapping his arms around you and embracing you with all his warmth. 
“Y/n you piece of shit there you are!” 
You jumped back at the sound of your friend’s voice from around the corner. You pulled out of Suna’s embrace and gave him an apologetic smile while rubbing the back of your neck, “Sorry Rin gotta run, see you after school!” you didn’t even give him a chance to respond as you placed one last kiss on his jaw before running off to your friends. 
Even though he could hear the faint yelling of Atsumu’s voice calling for him at the back of his head, his eyes were focused on the way your face turned red as your friends teased you. 
God, who let you be so damn cute]
Suna took out one of his hands from the pocket of his coat and wrapped it over your shoulder and pulled you a bit closer to his side. You leaned into his side and let your hair rest lightly onto his chest.
“You’re so annoying, I’m not making any hot pot for you”
“I will lock you outside of my house”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
Stepping inside the Suna household, you were instantly met with warmth. Suna flickered the lights on as you slipped off your shoes. Suna slipped off his own jacket and motioned for you to give yours to him as well so he could hang it up inside the coat closet. You smiled and put the groceries you were holding in one hand and let him help you shrug off your coat. 
“Here give me your bag, I’ll place it by the couch,” he said with his hand out. You nodded and handed him your backpack as you slipped on some house slippers and made your way towards the kitchen and settled the bags down onto the island. 
As you took the ingredients out of the bag, Suna walked into the living room and turned the TV on to a random show. You were way too invested in deciding which vegetables you wanted to include in the hot pot that you didn’t hear Suna walk towards you with his phone in his hands and the camera app open.
“Babe smile”
“Huh”
Just as you looked up, with mushrooms and green onions in your hand, you hear the sound of the camera shutter go off and Suna snicker. “Cute” he grinned. 
You rolled your eyes, “I thought you only took blackmail of the twins” Suna put his phone down and raised his eyebrows at you, “would you rather have your face or Atsumu’s all over my gallery?” he asked. You thought about it for a minute before nodding, “yeah no never mind you have a point” he chuckled and walked over to you and placed a kiss on your cheek. 
“I need to grab my charger really quick, you know where everything is right?” you nodded, you’ve been over at the Suna residence before and this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve cooked there. 
“Do you need anything upstairs?” he asked. Your ears perked up at the sound of his offer, “Can I borrow a hoodie?” you asked. Suna eyed you up and down, “you’re already wearing one of my hoodies” he stated and narrowed his eyes on the navy blue hoodie over your figure. “No, no, I mean can I wear the really soft one? The black one with the embroidering and cool design on the back” you smiled and gave him a look that you both knew he couldn’t say no for. 
Suna knew what hoodie you were talking about, it was a hoodie that you often wore of his that he hasn’t brought to school in a bit since it was in the laundry. “Think of it as your payment for me since I’m cooking you a meal” you grinned. Suna sighed, “fine, hands up,” he said as put his phone into his pocket and made his way over to you. 
You giggled and did what you were told and lifted your arms up and watched as he held onto the ends of the hoodie and lifted it over your head. Once you felt the sleeves of the hoodie be pulled off your arms, you put them down and straightened your hair and your shirt and smiled up at him, “thank you~” he rolled his eyes “you’re lucky you’re cute” he muttered and looked away which made you laugh. You made your way back to the kitchen and heard his steps going up the stairs.  
You sighed as you eyed down the ingredients, you forgot to ask him if his parents may have wanted some. You didn’t wanna cook too much and not have the means to finish it all but you also didn’t wanna make too little and leave you both hungry. “Better more than less” you thought. 
You turned around and grabbed the cutting board from one of the cabinets and a knife from one of the drawers. Placing the cutting board and the knife on the marble island, you grabbed the bagged vegetables and placed them on a clean plate and discarded the plastic in the trash bin beside the fridge. You ran the vegetables under some water from the sink to clean them before placing them back on the plate and setting them to the side so you could grab another pot and start boiling the water on the stove.
You were silently thankful that Granny and Shin had helped you learn how to make a proper hot pot. As you opened the packet of udon noodles, you were too much in your zone to notice what was happening around you. 
Your cooking was sometimes a hit or miss and with the day you’ve had, you were hungry, and the last thing you wanted was for the meal you took some time to make to taste terrible and leave you hungrier than when you started. The sound of the TV playing in the background drowned and you focused your attention on the cabbage you were cutting. 
You were way too concentrated on making sure that each cabbage slice was the same in length as the rest that you failed to hear the sounds of the front door opening and closing and a female figure walking into the home. 
“Nii-san~oh what the fuck since when did you cook-”
The sudden voice coming into the kitchen and cutting through your concentration made you jump and unfortunately for you, your finger slipped off the cabbage and met the blade of the knife you were using. 
“Oh shit” you hissed in pain and lifted your finger off the cutting board. However, instead of immediately tending to the cut, you looked up at the figure to whom the voice belonged to. 
You looked up and made eye contact with a little girl who was definitely not that much shorter than you. Judging from her middle school uniform, she was definitely between the ages of 11-13. She had brown hair tied into two pigtails, rosy cheeks that were the result of the weather outside, and slim grayish-yellow eyes that were awfully familiar. 
Your brain must’ve short-circuited as two and two didn’t click in your head and a good couple of seconds passed as you both stared at each other in complete silence, mirroring the shocked and confused expression both of you had on your faces. 
Just as you were about to open your mouth and say a word, you watched her face become completely red and she dashed up the stairs leaving you stunned and completely lost while your finger continued to bleed. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
Suna hummed to himself as he rummaged through his closet and tried to find the hoodie of his that you were asking for. He had changed out of his uniform into some more comfortable clothes and had his back towards the door. 
“Shit, where did I put it?” he muttered to himself and closed the doors to his closet. Just as he turned around, the door to his room opened making his eyebrows furrow in annoyance at the amount of force that was used to open his door. 
“Babe did you need something-”
“Nii-san! There’s a pretty girl in our kitchen!”
Oh, that was definitely not the voice of his girlfriend.
Suna sighed and went back to his task of finding the hoodie that you wanted, completely ignoring the sudden appearance of his little sister. However, a small smile tugged on his lips as he heard his sister call you pretty. 
His sister came into his room and looked at her brother in annoyance as she noticed how nonchalant he looked, “hello?? There’s a pretty girl downstairs that is definitely not ‘kaasan so who-” “Idiot. That’s my girlfriend”
His sister blinked at him once,
Then once again,
And one last time just for good measure.
“HUH??” she yelled with a face of disbelief. Suna looked at her weirdly and watched as she flopped down onto his bed with a bewildered expression as she tried to wrap her mind around the new information she was just given. 
“You? Girlfriend? For real?” she asked in shock. The concept of her brother actually getting a girlfriend not clicking in her head. “Are you sure she’s not some group project partner or something?” Suna scrunched his face, “Why do you look so shocked, I told you about her before-” “Nii-san I thought you were lying!” she exclaimed. Suna gave her a blank look and sighed, a part of him not even surprised that his sister thought he was joking.
He rolled his eyes and walked over to slap the back of her head, “Stupid. Why would I lie about that” She gave him an exaggerated shrug, “uh because she’s too pretty for you! She’s even cooking for you! I’m calling it right now that she’s too good for you” she stated and crossed her arms. 
“Rizu, you’re so stupid I swear to god-” he asked. Rizu shook her head “Don’t blame this on me!” Suna gave her an unamused look, “even ‘kaasan and ‘tosan know” Rizu rolled her eyes, “I thought they were in on the joke too!” she exclaimed.
Suna shook his head but took a sigh of relief as he finally found the hoodie he was looking for hanging on the back of his chair, “You’re such a twerp. Did you at least say hi to her?” he asked as he looked down at her once he got the hoodie. Rizu’s face flushed in embarrassment and she scratched the back of her head, “Kinda I guess” Suna narrowed her eyes as he caught on to how nervous she got. He suddenly got suspicious, “what did you do?”
“Nothing bad! I think? just don’t get mad ‘kay?” Suna already began to worry about what she was gonna say. 
“I came in and called for you, but I didn’t know she was cooking so she must’ve been startled and then next thing you know I come in, and we make eye contact and -oh yeah good job Nii-san, you might be stupid but you’ve got a good eye. She’s wow, took my whole breath away you know?- anyways I had to take a sec to admire her, but I think I startled her and I think she cut herself because her finger was bleeding and then I panicked and yeah now I’m here,” she said all in one breath and met eyes with his blank once as she gave him a bright smile. 
“Rizu”
“Hm?”
“I’m gonna throw out all your posters”
“Wait what?! No Nii-san come back!!”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
“Rizu say sorry”
Your eyes shifted from your boyfriend who was wrapping a paw patrol bandaid on your finger to the same little girl who stood beside him and was sheepishly looking down at the floor and avoiding all eye contact with you. 
Suna sat you down on a chair in the dining room and a part of you was zoning out as you tried to wrap your mind around what was happening. Looking at the girl who has a striking resemblance to Suna, it didn’t take a genius to know that this was his sister. They had the same striking eyes, cocoa brown hair, and she was even a bit taller for her age. 
There was no denying it, this was definitely his sister. 
But for the life of you, you can’t remember if your quiet bean pole of a boyfriend ever told you of her. Surely you would’ve remembered if he had told you. Did he forget? Or maybe you just failed to notice her presence. Then again you had been over multiple times but you don’t ever remember seeing her. 
“Sorry” she muttered quietly and began to play with the material of her school uniform top. 
Suna rolled his eyes and nudged her with his elbow, “at least look at her when you’re gonna say it” Just as you were about to interject and say that it was okay and it really wasn’t a big deal, Rizu looked up at you, her eyes glassy and her lip slightly jutting out as she puffed her cheeks, “I’m so sorry! You’re very pretty! My head malfunctioned! Please don’t break up with Nii-san! He’s lonely!” she cried. Your eyes widened, taken back by her “apology” and Suna only rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue in annoyance.  
“I-it’s fine really, it’s just a small cut anyways, no biggie Rizu-chan” you assured.
At the way you said her name, Rizu’s whole mood flipped. Her eyes instantly sparkled and she looked up at you with a face of adoration. She wiped away her tears away with the sleeve of her top and harshly pushed her brother to the side making him let go of your hands as he stumbled over. Your eyes widened at the amount of strength inside the little girl in front of you as she managed to push away your 6ft tall boyfriend to the side like it was nothing. 
“Really? Are you sure it’s okay? Y/n right? I’m gonna call you Y/n-chan! I think we’d make great friends” she beamed, her eyes still twinkling as she looked at you with an excited daze. “How come we’ve never met before? I thought Nii-san was lying about you. Do you like drama? how about musicals? You can come to my show next week! And are you sure you’re dating Nii-san? You can run now I can distract him for you-” your mind couldn’t even process the words she was saying with how fast she was talking. You felt your palms starting to get clammy and a part of you began internally panicking at how overwhelmed you were feeling.
In Rizu’s perspective, she had always wanted an older sister but was instead cursed with (in her words) a musty older brother. Now that she knew of his girlfriend, she wasn’t gonna let the opportunity slip away. They were gonna become the best of friends. She knew it.
You laughed nervously and nodded along during her incoherent ramble before turning to Suna with a slight look of panic as you didn’t know what to do or how to handle her sudden change of emotions and the never ending fountain of words leaving her mouth. 
Suna sensed your need for his help, he knew that little kids were never really your strong point. Along with Kita, you also lived with his little siblings who were your little cousins. They were the ages of 4 and 9 and you often complained to him about how they gave you a headache with how loud and rambunctious they were. 
He had to hold back a laugh at how panic you began to look when his sister began to talk your ear off. She kept switching topics and was now rambling on about how pretty you were and asking what moisturizer you used because your skin looked so soft and why you decided to date her brother who she considered looked like a malnourished raccoon. 
Shaking his head and holding back a smile, he walked over and flicked his sister’s forehead making her stop midway into her sentence and whine. “The hell was that for!” she cried as she rubbed the sore spot on her head. 
Suna rolled his eyes at her dramatics and stuffed one of his hands into his pockets while the other found its way to rest on the small of your back, drawing shapes on the cotton fabric of the black hoodie that he slipped onto your figure when he got back downstairs. “Stop being so rude brat. Relax and introduce yourself first before you start thinking about getting buddy-buddy already” he scolded in his usual bored tone.
You were baffled. Seeing your boyfriend act like a responsible big brother was something you were definitely not prepared to see today. 
Hell, you didn’t even know he had a sister until literally a couple of minutes ago. 
Suna felt you staring at him and looked down at you with one of his brows slightly raised up as if he was asking if you were okay. Before you could reassure him that you were fine, Rizu cleared her throat and took a step back from you. 
She put a hand on her hip while she proudly pointed her thumb to her chest as she looked at you with a confident and prideful smile. “Suna Rizue, Rizu for short, Class 2-B Representative and Vice president of the Nobara Middle School drama club” she exclaims proudly. She flipped away one of her pigtails back behind her shoulder before crossing her arms, the same prideful smile never leaving her lips while her eyes had a flash of mischievousness in them. “I’m also known around this household as the prettiest Suna sibling. ‘Kaasan said so herself” she spoke triumphantly. 
You stifled a laugh as Suna clicked his tongue and muttered “dramatic brat” under his breath. 
As you felt yourself slowly relax, you stood from your seat, realizing not too long after that you were barely taller than his little sister but chose to ignore that minor detail, you extended your hand out to his sister and watched the way her face lit up. “L/n Y/n, Class 2-5 and member of the Inarizaki art club. While your brother is cute, I have to agree that you are the prettier Suna sibling” you joked and turned to Suna momentarily with a teasing glint with your eyes. Suna only narrowed his eyes at you and furrowed his brows which made both you and Rizu laugh. 
You turned back to Rizu and smiled, “It’s nice to meet you Rizu-chan, Rin doesn’t really bring you up much-” or ever “so I’m sorry it took so long for us to meet.”
Rizu shook her head, “It’s okay! Nii-san talks about you sometimes but I thought he was just lying. He’s kind of lame and he zones out a lot so I thought you were just some weird figment of his imagination that he made to cope with his loneliness” your jaw dropped, were kids always this blunt? 
Rizu shrugged and pulled her phone out of her backpack, “But whatever, I guess the universe felt bad for him and decided not to make him some lonely loser. Anyways, can we exchange numbers Y/n-chan? I wanna send you Nii-sans baby photos” she smiled and looked up at you hopefully. At the sound of Suna’s baby photos being offered up on the table, you quickly nodded and typed in your contact info into her phone. 
Suna’s jaw dropped ever so slightly before scoffing and looking away as he crossed his arms. “Can’t believe my own girlfriend is ganging up on me with my sister” he thought in disbelief. 
“Rizu-chan you’re brother and I are gonna make some hot pot, want some?” you asked as you handed her phone back into her hands. Rizu nodded enthusiastically, “that sounds great! Can I help? Please!” she asked in a hopeful tone as she brought her hands together. You laughed and nodded and watched her beam and skip away to the kitchen. 
Before following her, you turned around to look up at Suna with a frown on your face and your arms crossed over your chest. Suna looked back at you, unsure of why you were giving him that look. “What?” he asked, which only made you look at him in disbelief at his cluelessness. You scoffed and rolled your eyes before making your way towards him and slapping his arm, “You idiot! You never told me you had a little sister” you hissed. 
Suna blinked at you, “I didn’t?” he asked, genuinely confused, while raising one of his eyebrows. You looked at him incredulously and shook your head, “no!” you exclaimed. “God I can’t believe you didn’t tell me” you muttered and looked away, cheeks warming up in embarrassment.
Suna eyed your actions and sighed knowing that he must’ve upset you. If he’s being honest, he didn’t mean to keep you in the dark about his sister. He just always had his mind on you whenever the two of you would hang out so he truthfully forgot about his sister whenever you two were together. He sighed, he leaned back to sit on the edge of the dining room table before grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to his chest. 
When you didn’t budge against him, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and he leaned his head on your shoulders before muttering a quiet, “sorry” into the fabric of his hoodie. A couple seconds passed before you gave in and wrapped your arms around his waist, embracing his warmth. 
Truthfully you weren’t upset or mad at him, just a bit embarrassed that you never knew about his sister until literally a couple of moments ago. You remember how nervous you were when you first met his parents and felt all those nerves coming back because you wanted to impress his little sister. 
You pulled away first and scratched the back of your neck, “It’s fine Rin I’m not mad. If anything I’m just a bit embarrassed that I never noticed. I mean I’ve met your parents and been over multiple times. Plus I’ve slept over like twice already!” you exclaimed. 
Suna moved his arms off your shoulder and used one to support his weight on the table while the other moved your hair away from your face and tucked some strands behind your ear. “It’s not your fault, The brat is always away doing her drama club stuff or whatever so she doesn’t get back until I’ve already walked you home for the night. For the sleepover, I think it’s just a coincidence that she would be away while you were over” he said and you nodded. 
Suna stared at you for a moment, he caught onto how uneasy you looked and immediately figured out why. “Babe, don’t worry about impressing Rizu too much. Trust me, she already likes you a lot” he said while using his thumb to rub the side of your neck gently. 
You nodded slowly before looking up at him with a confused expression, “how did you forget to tell me huh?” you asked. Suna thought back for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly, “I only think of you when we’re together, the brat is old enough to take care of herself” he admitted bluntly.
Your cheeks warmed up and you chuckled making Suna’s chest erupt in butterflies at the sight of your smile. “Calling your sister a brat is kind of rude you know?” you teased. He looked at you with an unamused expression, “you call your little cousins' demon spawns as if that’s any better” he pointed out. You opened your mouth but quickly closed it as you realized he was right. 
Suna pushed himself off of the table and walked towards you and you already saw the mischievous look in his eyes. He leaned down, his lips just barely brushing over yours, “am I forgiven?” he asked in a hushed tone. Your face quickly turned into a bright shade of red once you realized how close he got. While the offer was tempting and his lips were right there, you remembered that his sister was only just a couple feet away from the two of you and you didn’t want to risk her seeing anything. 
You didn’t answer and only looked away, flustered, which made Suna chuckle. He pecked the corner of your lips before straightening himself up, “I’ll take that as a yes” he smirked, making you roll your eyes. 
Suna then grabbed your shoulders and turned you around as he pushed you into the kitchen where his little was sitting on top of the counter wearing a blue apron while a pink folded apron was in her hands. 
She looked up at the two of you entering the kitchen, she smiled at you and noticed how flustered you. She shot her brother a look of disgust. “Ew don’t tell me you were making out in the dining room. So gross Nii-san” she commented as her brother walked towards her to grab the extra apron in her hands. 
Suna looked at her with his normal bored and lazy expression, “shut it brat” he said before turning his back and making his way towards you. Rizu rolled her eyes and turned her attention back onto her phone. It wasn’t until she started to hear the two of you banter when she put down her phone in her lap and watched the way you and her brother interacted. 
She listened to you ask about what vegetables he would want in the hot pot and watched as he moved behind your back and pushed your hair over your shoulder so he could tie the strings of the pink apron behind your neck. 
The sight was strange and oddly sweet. Rizu always thought that her brother would be a terrible boyfriend. He was quiet, borderline lazy, and had no romantic bone in him. He seemed like the type of partner who would do nothing but the bare minimum when they’re in a relationship. He was often annoyed at the sight of other couples and he never had much interest in being in a relationship himself which was partly the reason why Rizu didn’t think to believe him when he told their parents that he had a girlfriend out of the blue one day.
[“Rintarou stop playing around” Their mother chuckled. 
“No for real, I have a girlfriend and she wants to go stargazing so I’ll be home late” he said monotonically before slipping on his shoes and heading out the door.
Rizu watched as her parents exchanged a lost expression with a mix of disbelief towards each other. Part of them were surprised, part of them were happy, but part of them didn’t know if he was playing around or not. 
“Did you know about this?” Their mother asked their Dad who was grabbing a glass from the cupboard. Their Dad only shook his head, “No. You think that’s why he’s been so busy lately?” he asked only to receive a clueless shrug from his wife. 
Rizu rolled her eyes and jumped up from the couch to face her parents. “Come on this is Nii-san we’re talking about. He’s probably just lying. He can’t even talk to girls, let alone get a full on girlfriend”]
“That statement didn’t age well” Rizu thought.
Her eyes followed the way he had the smallest smile on his face as he adjusted your apron, asking afterwards if it was comfortable or if you needed him to adjust it better. Once you told him it was okay, he moved onto gathering your hair into his hands and tying it back with the small black silk band he had around his wrist. Suna placed his hands back onto your shoulders to turn you around to face him. He brought his hand over your face and moved the fly-aways to the side while tucking the loose pieces behind your ear. 
After he was done, you stood on your tippy-toes and pressed a kiss onto his cheek and whispered a quiet “thank you Rin Rin.” She narrowed her eyes and had to hold back her urge to laugh at how the tips of his ears lit up into a bright shade of red. It was then that she concluded one thing:
“he’s so fucking whipped” she muttered under her breath.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
“Wait are you serious? He really gave you a can of lemonade for your birthday?” you asked looking up from the meat you were slicing in bewilderment as Rizu nodded. “Mhm! It wasn’t even the brand I liked, it was the generic ones that had too much sugar” she explained as she moved past you to set the bowl of mushrooms she had cut up with the other vegetables. 
You turned to look at Suna who was sitting on a stool by the kitchen island with his attention fully on his phone. “Is this true?” you questioned. Suna didn’t even look up from his phone as he simply replied, “she likes lemonade.”
 You stifled a laugh at his answer and Rizu only scowled. She nudged your arm and whispered “I dunno how you put up with him” into your ear making you giggle. 
Cooking with the Suna siblings was definitely interesting, to say the least. You weren’t surprised to see that Rizu was a complete polar opposite from her brother. Judging from her first words to you, you knew that she was a lot more outspoken than her brother. While Suna was quiet, Rizu spoke as if she had a microphone taped onto her mouth. She was talkative and energetic while Suna always seemed like he was close to shutting off at any given moment. 
Their dynamic was different, to say the least. Rizu lived up to the annoying little sister type while her brother looked as if he could care less about whatever she did. However, all siblings had at least one thing in common and between them, and you figured out what that thing was quickly. 
They both shared a high level of pettiness. 
If one said something the other didn’t like, they’d find something expose worthy to embarrass the other person. It was a constant back and forth of how could embarrass the other person the worst. 
When Rizu told you that Suna didn’t learn how to tie his shoelaces until he was 8, Suna told you that she failed her math test. When Suna told you that she once slipped on stage mid-performance, Rizu told you that Suna came to their mother when he needed dating advice. 
[ Nii-san shut up! The stage was slippery and my costume was a long dress!” Rizu cried out dramatically. Suna rolled his eyes, “the costumes of your classmates were long but you didn’t see them tripping all over the stage” he teased. Rizu’s jaw dropped, a fire inside lit up as she felt herself getting angry with her older brother. ‘Two can play at this game’ she thought. 
Rizu scoffed and turned to face her body towards you as she leaned onto the counter. “You know Yn-chan, Nii-san always asks ‘kaasan about what he should do to impress you! You know that sunflower field date? He and ‘Kaasan planned that whole thing together ‘cause Nii-san is a clueless idiot and didn’t know what to do” You turned your head to the side and looked at Rizu with a curious expression before briefly looking at your boyfriend who had tensed up. 
“Really now? Rin had me convinced that he did all the planning himself” you teased as you narrowed your eyes at him. Suna huffed, “she just let me use her card to pay for the stupid tickets, I did everything else.” he muttered. 
You chuckled, noticing the way his cheeks puffed out and how the tips of his ears started to turn red. You smiled as you nodded at what Rizu saying, momentarily glancing at him every so often. 
How cute.
Suna then looked up from his phone, a devious smirk on his lips as he knew the perfect moment to us in order to one-up her previous statement.
“Babe did you know that Rizu sleeps with an Eren body pillow-”
“shut up!!” ]
It was a never-ending petty battle between the two siblings. 
Nonetheless, you could tell that they still cared about each other. Albeit in their own special way. 
Rizu rolled her eyes and turned to you and leaned closer, whispering loud enough so that her brother could hear, “Y/n-chan are you sure you’re actually his girlfriend? Like willingly? If he’s paying you then I can guarantee that he’s not paying you enough. Blink twice if you need help-hey!” she whined as she felt a mushroom hit her arm. You both turned to Suna who had a smug smile on his face, “stop talking shit about me brat.” Rizu narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, “or what Nii-san?” she challenged. “I’ll tell ‘kaasan that you walked home with that boy yesterday,” he shot back. 
Rizu’s smirked dropped, “hey! You promised you wouldn’t tell her!” she whined. Suna shrugged his shoulders, “I lied” he replied simply. Rizu scoffed, “I can’t believe you’re dating such a meanie!” she exclaimed and began to angrily stir the broth in the pot.
You watched her actions momentarily before walking around the kitchen island and towards Suna and whacking his arm with a towel you were using to dry your hands. “Stop being so mean to your sister!” you scolded. He looked at you with an unamused expression as he rubbed his arm, “she was mean to me first,” he defended himself bluntly. You rolled your eyes and turned your back to go and start frying the beef.
A comfortable silence came into the kitchen as you and his sister continued cooking. Of course, this silence didn’t last long as the two siblings would go back to their back and forth bantering but nonetheless, there was a comfortable and homey aura in the atmosphere. 
The hot pot was coming together and you occasionally would have Suna try the meat and make sure that it tasted okay. Suna may not be the one cooking, but he had offered his assistance early on by cutting some of the tofu and cooking the udon noodles. You and Rizu would trail off and have your own conversation, missing the way Suna would glance up at the two of you, his hands propping up his phone as he took photos of the two of you laughing and joking around together. 
The rest of the night went by smoothly. Once the hot pot was ready, you asked Suna to prepare the table while you and Rizu set the food down. Since it was nearing 6pm by the time you and Rizu had finished cooking, you all considered this an early dinner. You sat beside Suna while Rizu sat across from you as you all enjoyed a warm bowl of hot pot during a cold winter night. 
Suna watched as you and Rizu talked about a certain anime you both had been watching and took everything within him to not smile at the moment. Seeing you interact with his sister warmed his heart and a part of him was relieved that you two got along well. 
He knew that Rizu was a bit overbearing and you weren’t a big fan of younger children so he was worried that you two would clash. 
But alas, seeing that two of you laugh together put him at ease. 
After dinner, Rizu knew better than to try and third wheel you and her brother. She could see from the way his shoulder kept brushing past yours and how his hands kept getting closer and closer to yours during dinner that he was itching to get any sort of alone time with you. 
She could be a little shit and steal you from him during another day.
Before scurrying off to her room, Rizu gave you a high five before exclaiming once again that you’re really pretty and way too good for her stupid brother while also saying that she would text you his baby photos later. You laughed and nodded along and she flashed Suna a cheeky smile before running up the stairs. 
Once his sister was finally gone, Suna grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to the kotatsu sofa in his living room and practically dragged you down. “Well aren’t you clingy” you teased as he pulled up the blankets over your legs. Suna rolled his eyes, muttering a quiet “shut up” as he laid down and made himself comfortable under the blankets. 
You mirrored his actions, shuffling under the blankets and finding a comfy spot to lay on. Suna’s hands found their way around your waist and he moved you closer to him, letting your head rest against his chest. You couldn’t help but laugh at how clingy he was being as you watched him shift so you were laying on top of him while he hugged you as if you were a teddy bear. 
Suna leaned his head back comfortably on the couch cushion as closed his eyes and a content smile came over his face. “You’re so warm,” he muttered quietly. You smiled “I think that’s just the kotatsu heating Rin,” you said quietly muttered into his chest. “No it’s definitely you, I always feel warm when I’m with you” he whispered. 
You smiled, not failing the way his words made butterflies erupt in your stomach “how cheesy” you teased while momentarily lifting your head so you could poke his cheek. “Whatever” he sighed, his arms around your waist slowly holding you just a bit tighter. “I thought we were supposed to be studying Rin” you said quietly. “Tomorrow, too comfortable right now” he answered back. You giggled, “you just want me to come back huh.” Suna didn’t even bother to deny, only simply nodding and humming a faint “mhm” before relaxing his body. 
A wave of comfortable silence came once again as you two embraced each other's warmth. Your ear was pressed against his chest and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into sleep. Slowly but surely you found yourself getting drowsy from your comfortable position and you no longer had any energy left in you to stop your eyes from closing.
Suna wasn’t surprised to hear the faint sounds of your gentle snoring not too long after. For a moment he sat up, careful not to wake you, and he took a moment to just admire you. How soft, gentle, and unbothered you looked in his arms. He removed one of his hands from your waist and gently rubbed your arm, he stiffened for a moment as watched as you shuffled slightly before relaxing against him once again. His body loosened up and a small smile spread on his lips, ‘How could someone be so damn pretty’ he thought. 
He admired you for a moment longer. His head replaying the memories you two made in the past 5 months while silently looking forward to what you two had in store together in the future. 
He petted your head gently as he wondered starting about what he should do for your 6 months. You’ve been talking about ice skating after seeing it in a movie so he considered that as an option. The idea of seeing you excitedly skating under the twinkling lights of the ice rink made Suna excited. He knew he couldn’t skate, but he didn’t really care. Just sharing the moment with you was enough for him. 
Slowly, his own exhaustion from the day soon caught up to him and soon enough he was getting tired as well. He shuffled back down and rested his head on the cushions. He lifted his hands off your waist to adjust the blanket over you two, make sure you were all snuggled up and warm. 
Just before he surrendered himself to sleep, he pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head and another one on your forehead. Whispering a faint “love you” before closing his eyes, failing to notice the small smile that grew on your lips.
However, he didn’t fail to feel the heart that your finger softly drew on his chest. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
Bonus Scene 
“Nii-san can I borrow a pencil?”
Suna looked up from his phone and narrowed his eyes at his sister who was standing by his doorway. Suna looked at her blankly, for a moment he grew suspicious of why she suddenly wanted a pencil but he was honestly far too tired to even try and figure out what she really wanted. “It’s on my desk,” he said plainly as he nodded his head over to his desk on the other side of his room. 
Rizu nodded and made her way over to his desk that was placed in front of his window. Rizu came in front of his desk and scanned the surface for what she needed. He had an open notebook with unfinished work displayed in the middle while his pen holders lined up the top of his desk. 
Rizu saw a pencil sitting inside his pen holder and reached out her hands to take a hold of it. Just as she was about to turn around and leave his room so she could finish up her work, she noticed something taped on the side of his wall that was being covered up by the curtain blowing in front of it. 
While she knew it was wrong to snoop around other people's things, she was empty of blackmail against him and that reason alone was enough for her to justify her actions. She turned around to look back at her brother and saw that he was fairly distracted and took that moment as an opportunity to push the curtain aside. 
However, instead of finding incriminating blackmail, all she saw was a picture of you and him taped from what looked like to be the inside of the photobooths at the movie theatres. The first picture was of you two smiling (well more you than him), the second was you kissing cheek, the 3rd one he had pulled you to sit on top of his lap and he was now the one kissing your cheek, and the last photo was the two of you smiling genuinely to each other, paying no attention to the camera as you both got too caught up in the moment. 
“I hate how they're so cute,” she admitted in her head.
Rizu’s eyes then drifted from the wall that had a bunch of other taped printed photos of you and him to his window sill where a bunch of little trinkets were displayed along with a singular photo frame. 
Her eyes looked over the little trinkets. He had some action figures and random knick-knacks. Nothing interesting in her opinion. “Typical boy stuff, nothing I can use against him,” she thought. Looking past the small transformers' action figure, she kept looking at his window sill until she stopped and stared at a paper box full of little things inside. She squinted her eyes, her eyes having a hard time seeing what it was with how dark it was in his room. She leaned closer and upon further inspection, it finally dawned on her what was inside the box.
It was a bunch of little origami strawberries. 
A bunch of little origami strawberries piled on top of each other, some had wrinkled leaves while others had bent corners. Rizu then looked back at his desk and saw a small stack of red and green papers neatly set on the corner of his desk. 
“weird,” she thought. 
Her eyes shifted from the paper box to the small white square frame where there was a photo of you inside sitting at the edge of the window sill. 
Surrounding you were rows and rows of sunflowers that were facing towards the sun. You were clad in a pretty dress with small floral patterns along with a small sun hat on your head that was tipped back so the sun was hitting your face. Your hair was blown back behind your shoulder, your left hand was holding a bunch of sunflowers while your right hand was resting on top of your hat, holding it down so it wouldn’t be blown away by the wind. Your eyes were closed and you had the warmest smile on your lips as you were basking into the afternoon sunshine. The sunlight was kissing your skin so perfectly that she swore you were glowing. You looked so peaceful, relaxed, and content. It was clear that you weren’t trying to pose for the camera, this photo captured you and all your natural beauty. 
You looked ethereal. 
She looked back at her brother and back at the basket of origami strawberries and the photo frame and concluded one other thing.
“what a fucking simp”
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a/n: yes it’s may but this story takes place in december oops
UGH WORDS CANT DESCRIBE HOW SUNA AND Y/N MAKE ME SO HAPPY. DEADASS THIS EXTRA WARMED MY HEART AND SO I HOPE IT WARMED YOUR HEART TOO. 
I promised a while back that I was going to make an extra that featured suna’s little sister. Personally, I feel like Suna’s sister with be the complete opposite of him. Hence why I wrote her to be very dramatic and enthusiastic. He’s probably able to put up with the miya twins bullshit because his sister already made him go through so much LMAO
I’m uncertain if this is going to be my last extra for club stupid. I have one last long fic idea in mind but truthfully I’m not sure when I’ll get to writing it </3
Regardless, thank you guys so much for the love and appreciation for this series. It really means a lot to me and I’m glad to see people continue to enjoy it :)
a/n 2: ayo where do i find myself a suna? genuinely asking and in need of help. 
taglist! [CLOSED] @aircorumble​@elianetsantana​ @versatilewindow @introvertatitsfinest​ @aristatrois​ @mizukisonoda​ @amberisnotcrazy​ @kritiiiii​ @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney​ @a-moon-fairy ​ @akaasht​ @lotusweebs​ @marvelous-maxi​ @laughingismorefun​ @hhmnvm​ @sweetyrina​ @honeydrip​ @miracleboy420​ @rachelexe​ @charsdummb​ @mjoork @loser-keiji​ @dinablossom​ @ntimacy​ @kac-chowsballs​@unhappyraspberry @sbaepsae ​ @doebopeepeebbod @missalienqueen​@ssuna​ @violenthead​ @unstableye​ @tycrackculture​​ @a-applepi​​ i @lollyzen​​ @aisawa-reo​​ @ashybitch89​ @sunflowerirl​ @sapphicstarss​ @melodiamore​ @valrubiii @urbasicaveragegirl @mint-mai @4kaashl @sugawsites @anngelllla @applekenm @bumblebeesofspace @dreamstormings @milkingkageyama @tsumu-core @luvelyxp @aquariarose
[it’s been a long time since I updated this series so i apologize if I am unable to tag you 🥲]
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drwcn · 3 years
Text
《Without Envy》- concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj
[story board 1]  [story board 2]  [story board 3]  [story board 4]  [story board 5]  [story board 6] [story board 7] snippets (non-chrono): [1] [2] [3] [4]
story board 8 → Wei Wuxian’s misadventure of being a terrible manservant.
Wei Wuxian being a bad servant example #1: lying about his literacy ability Jin Ziyan did not like the fact that Lan Wangji was keeping this A-Xian person as his personal manservant. When Jiang Yanli brought this pretty boy into Hanguang-fu with her, Jin Ziyan had believed he would be the same as Mo Xuanyu, and that was fine with him. Even though Lan Wangji accepted Mo Xuanyu into his harem and his bed, the prince's heart was still an unimpregnable fortress. This was acceptable. So as long as no one had an advantage over another. But when Lan Wangji announced that he was taking Wei Wuxian from Jiang Yanli's side and situating him within his own courtyard, Jin Ziyan immediately realized that something was different. — JZY, "Dianxia, the assignment of servants in the harem is my duty. I apologize if the manservant from before was not to your liking." Jin Ziyan said to Lan Wangji after the news broke. — LWJ, "A-Fu was fine, but he had to take leave. Jiang-fu'ren always praised Wei Y - A-Xian for his cleverness and competence; he would do nicely as a replacement." — JZY, "Dianxia, that perhaps would be unwise…servants who serve in your study, where many important matters of court are handled, ought not to be literate." — LWJ, "Ce-wangfu is very considerate, but this is no issue. A-Xian knows not how to read." — JZY, "You're illiterate?!" JZY could hardly believe that the Jiangs would send an illiterate servant as Jiang Yanli's peijia. Even Mo Xuanyu, as lowly as he was, knew basic reading. — WWX smiled innocently, "Ce-wangfu, I was just a street urchin before Yunmeng-hou found me. Jiang-zhuzi was kind enough to teach me some basic words, but unfortunately A-Xian has not been a very good student."  (Jiang-zhuzi, referring to Jiang Yanli, meaning Mistress Jiang) *after JZY leaves* — LWJ, "Jin Ziyan speaks the truth. Historically, servants who serve the study are typically illiterate, but I prefer mine differently, at least enough to help me organize the scrolls, of which there are many. If you wish to learn, I can teach you." —  WWX *thinking: another excuse to get close to you? Uhmm yeahhh* "I would like that very much! Thank you, dianxia for this opportunity!"
Wei Wuxian being a bad servant example #2: can't cook for shit Lan Wangji worked late nights, and Wei Wuxian found it often difficult to procure the prince a snack after the manor’s kitchen snuffed the fire stove. Jin Ziyan or Qin Su would sometimes send refreshments prepared in the little kitchens of their private courtyard, but Lan Wangji didn't always like what they sent. Wei Wuxian remembered that the prince once praised Jiang Yanli for her soups and porridges, so he set out to make some himself since Jiang Yanli was still recovering from her miscarriage. —  LWJ's stomach grumbled one late night. —  WWX perked up from where he was dozing off by the side table, "dianxia is hungry, I will go find some light refreshments." —  LWJ, "No need. It's late. The kitchen would've put out the stove." —  WWX, "Ah but I…I know we don't have a little kitchen like the other furens, so I've asked the carpenters to make a small stove behind my quarters in back of our court. I've made some of Jiang-zhuzi's soup that you liked. I'll go heat it up!" —  LWJ *pleasantly surprised and looking forward to The Soup* Little did Wei Wuxian know, the soup was completely UNPALATABLE. He tried it himself thought it wasn't bad. He gave a Test Serving to Xue Yang and he said it wasn't bad either, but this is only because Xue Yang had been eating Wei Wuxian's shitty porridge since infancy and had essentially no taste buds left and couldn’t tell. —  WWX *stars in his eyes* "Does dianxia like it?" —  LWJ *internally dying and thinking: thou must not lie* evaded the question with, "Silence during meals" and kept on eating. WWW eventually found out through some means that his soup was nasty. —  WWX *blushing and frustrated* "Why... why didn't dianxia tell me the porridge was bad? You didn't have to eat it..." —   LWJ, "Wei Ying made it for me, so I shouldn’t waste it." —  WWW *blushes more* "Dianxia..."
Wei Wuxian being a bad servant example #3: sleeping in, again The making of a good manservant is to always be available to his master. Well, that's the gist of it anyway. Wei Wuxian was not a morning person, but staying up at night? That was his specialty. He was an assassin after all ; assassins did not go about their business in broad daylight. Which was why night after night, Wei Wuxian kept Lan Wangji company while the prince burned the midnight oil. But there was often nothing much to do, which was why WWX frequently fell asleep at the table.   — LWJ, "If you're tired, you can go to bed." — WWX *unresponsive * — LWJ *picks his own cloak and puts it over WWX *. It was very late, perhaps he should wrap it up for the night. LWJ shook WWX gently, "Wei Ying. Wei Ying." — WWX *dead to the world, softly snoring* (he's not a very good servant lmao, but a great cutie) — LWJ *sighs, but so damn fond*. There was a small resting ta on the other side of the study behind the trifold screen. LWJ picked up WWX and carried him there. He tried to take back his cloak but WWX held on too tight, so LWJ just left it and went back to his own quarters. WWX *wakes up the next morning with LWJ's cloak around him* It…smells so nice, like sandalwood. I'm so comfortable… wait -  He jolted up, SHIT! I fell asleep!  By the time he rushed to Lan Wangji's room, he found the prince already awake and getting ready for court assembly. — WWX, "Dianxia, I beg your pardon! I didn't mean to … I fell asleep." — Yue-gonggong, the eunuch who's had it out for WWX since day one, "You lazy ox! What good is you? Letting dianxia manage by himself." — LWJ, "Yue-gonggong, it's no matter. He was tired. I let him sleep." LWJ picked up his comb. "Since you're here -" He held it out for WWX. "The usual, please." — WWX *brightly grinning* "Yes dianxia!" The rumour mill was prolific in Hanguang-fu. Wei Wuxian was quickly becoming Hanguang-wang's favourite person and suddenly everyone's eyes were on him
Wei Wuxian being a bad servant example #4: giving government officials something to talk about and giving Jiang Cheng an aneurysm. Nie Huaisang is living for it though. As Lan Wangji's man servant, Wei Wuxian's predecessor used to accompany the prince to court and wait outside the palace gates with the valet and their carriage, just as all the other officials’ servants. One particular morning, court assembly ended a little late, so Wei Wuxian was already pretty hungry by the time assembly adjourned and officials began to trickle out from the palace doors. Soon, he saw Lan Wangji's tall, dashing figure amongst the crowd. He was walking side by side with two other civic officials, discussing something quietly under their breath. The sun was shining bright at noon, and really, Lan Wangji looked so handsome in his stately court robes. Wei Wuxian smiled, leaping up and called out "dianxia!" when he saw Lan Wangji approach. — "Wei Ying." Lan Wangji greeted quietly with a smile. — Wei Wuxian was marginally aware that maybe they were standing too close, but Lan Wangji didn't give him the opportunity to pull back. — LWJ, "You must be hungry." — WWX grinned, "Dianxia must be hungry. Let's go home. Ce-wangfu is waiting for dianxia for lunch." — LWJ hesitated and shifted his gaze, "There's a new restaurant in town." — "Oh?" Wei Wuxian looked surprised. "Do you...want to go?" Lan Wangji never ate out. — LWJ, "Mn. If…Wei Ying wants to." — WWX, "Uhh - of...of course! Dianxia, you must be tired, the carriage is ready, let me help you up -" — Lan Wangji took his head. "No need. It's nice out today. Let's walk." Wei Wuxian half expected Lan Wangji to take his hand, like lovers on a stroll, which was ridiculous. Lan Wangji had no romantic interests in him, he made himself clear on that front. Yet, when Lan Wangji did not reach out for him, the lurch in Wei Wuxian's chest fell from its temporary suspension, and the landing almost felt like disappointment. — NHS nudged JC, "Jiang-xiong, Jiang-xiong… uhm … did you...did you see that???? That person beside er-dianxia…isn't he your sister's peijia?" — JC *o_o* turned to look at Jiang Fengmian, "Uhm, Father..." — Ouyang-daren and Yao-daren, two gossipy civic officials, walked up behind them and commented with their eyebrows practically wiggling, "Ah, Yunmeng-hou, what good judgements you have. Looks like the beauty the Jiang family picked out for er-dianxia is very successful indeed."
Wei Wuxian being a terrible spy aka Xue Yang inot sure what to put in his reports anymore: WWX weekly reports are now like: "Dianxia took me to a restaurant today. It was new and the dishes there were quite flavourful despite not being spicy. Xue Yang, dianxia is so extra - he kept putting food in my bowl, I was so full by the end -" Xue Yang: ……………just who exactly is supposed to be doing the seducing here?????
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fandom-monium · 3 years
Text
Alive Together - Day 1
Summary: Welcome to the Monsterpocalypse. You’re a lone wanderer trying to survive. Until you meet Joel Dawson and Boy.
WC: 4k
Tag/Warnings: light themes of death and grief?? Cursing but minimal. Slow burn. Enemies to friends to lovers?
AN: MEET CUTE? NO. MEET UGLY.
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(Entry 2#3#)
Hungry. I have nothing else to report today except that I, (Your Name), am starving. Grilled spiders and roasted centipedes are starting to get old.
I've mentioned it before and I'll do it again, but I miss home cooked meals. Even Dad's shoddy attempts at recreating Mom's recipes. The last time I think was… nevermind.
It hurts; I barely remember the last time I had dinner with Dad, much less Mom, flashes of the memories I have left blurring. Probably from the tears. I used to cry at the slightest thought of Mom and then Dad. Now my heart clenches whenever I try because I shouldn't have to try to remember my own family. Believe it or not, it’s progress.
Maybe it's my fault. I hadn't bothered to snag any mementos that reminded me of them before fleeing the bunker, like an album or something. There weren't many personal items that they'd given me, now that I think about it. Too much clutter, the Captain said.
Or maybe it's the lack of consistent stimulus to my brain. I can't read as much as I'd like to, mainly because it's too dangerous to be distracted (constant vigilance is an important virtue in this world, if you hadn’t noticed). Most books that I've stumbled across (literally, I tripped over a hill of hardcovers. Not fun. Very painful) were either tattered or worn beyond comprehension, destroyed by rain or monster attacks.
Speaking of, my stomach grumbled. I need to start hunting before it gets dark... and before I attract another monster to myself. Again.
-(Your Name) (Your Last Name)
Day 1 - First Impressions
You shut the journal as an ominous roar thunders in the distance. Heart in your throat, you’re already on your feet, shoving the book into your pack and gathering the rest of your things. Once you’re certain there’s no trace left of you on the roof, you gaze at the neighborhood below, shielding your eyes as you scan for signs of alerted monsters.
Greenery and ruins go on for miles, unperturbed.
It’s high noon, rays of sunlight seeping through the clouds and warming your exposed skin. A gust of wind brushes your face and hair, and you suppress a smile. It’s not everyday the weather is this nice, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d relish in it.
Good thing you do know better.
You trace your path to the hills. The town is a maze of torn down buildings and overgrowth, winding roads littered with abandoned houses and wrecked vehicles, and, of course, hidden monsters. There’s only a couple hours before nightfall, and you’re far from your destination.
Better start walking. You’ve wasted enough time.
You climb down the side of the dilapidated house, dropping to the ground with a thump. If there’s one thing you’ve learned since the start of the apocalypse, it’s that residential areas harbored the most monsters, aside from the cities. Too many alcoves perfect for nesting. It’s safer away from the old world.
Safer, not safe.
You keep to the shadows, avoiding the open whenever you can despite the barren streets, darting between urban remnants. Your heart eventually settles as you scan your surroundings like anything and everything will pounce on you the second you let your guard down. By the time you cross the residential area and asphalt roads bleed into dry fields (from years of neglect, you somberly note), the sun has crept out from behind the clouds and the sky is clear blue.
You find a barn after hours of trudging through shrubs and your sore feet. It looms at the top of the hill leading to a dense forest, tall enough that as you step into its shadow it blocks out the sun. Walking closer, you tense as you scrutinize the place, eyes combing over the immediate vicinity.
Nothing. Nothing moves or breathes. You don’t see or hear a peep. Not from the barn or the woods beyond. It’s completely isolated from the nearby town, a perfect fort.
Or a nest.
You huff; shit like this has happened one too many times and you’d be a fool if you haven’t learnt your lesson by now. You pull out your javelin and approach with caution, leaves and grass crunching under your boots as you take in the chipped paint and boarded up windows, steadily making your way around the decrepit building. You frown at the clear deterioration, unable to spot any visible breaches.
Reaching the front of the barn, you gaze warily at the lone entrance. Tall doors ajar, old boards are still nailed across the slim gap or hanging precariously. As if someone or something pried them off, busted through.
In or out, you can’t tell.
For a moment, you weigh your options. You doubt the place had anything to offer, pillaged long before you stumbled upon it. Hell, there’s probably a monster nesting somewhere inside, or a bunch of monster eggs.
But you need food, supplies, rest. Are you willing to risk your life on the small chance this rickety barn can provide those things?
You stare down the the opening and it stares back, deceptively innocent. But it’s mocking you, you can hear it. Just daring you to walk away. 
You shuffle on aching feet, making your clothes rub against your sweaty skin.
As if on cue, your stomach growls.
Groaning, you adjust your grip on the spear before ducking inside.
You let your eyes adjust to the dark interior. Light seeps through the rotted ceiling and cracks from the boarded windows, enough that you don’t need a flashlight to see the place is deserted. You glance around the huge room, javelin ready as you wait with bated breath, ears straining to hear over your pounding heartbeat.
Nothing. You don’t hear anything, except the trees rustling outside. Nothing shifts or darts out of sight. No signs of life, not even eggs (that you can see).
It doesn’t mean you're clear, but it’s a start.
Biting your lip, you take a careful step, and another and another, your eyes sweeping the room as you tread over straw and debris. You pause mid-step when you catch a pulley system attached to the ceiling. It’s dark, but you recognize its outline. Frowning, you trace its small, thin woven ropes as they split in different directions against the ceiling and walls, hitting and crossing the floor until they disappear under a thick layer of hay.
You raise your foot, gently kicking away the straw. You step back.
A net. A decent sized one by the width of the patch of hay.
You sigh, shoulders dropping in relief. If you hadn’t been cautious you’d never have noticed it.
You make your rounds quickly as you check for resources. At this point, it’s muscle memory for you as you move through the room with silent purpose, efficient and controlled. You dig through every storage unit, every container, pulling open cabinets and drawers, tearing through the floor with precision as you toss aside rusted tools and empty cans, a pit burning in your stomach. You snarl, throwing down another torn rag. It hits the floor with a thud.
You knew this would happen. You know the chances, but after all this time you still feel the crushing disappointment? You let out a shaky breath, nostrils flaring as you attempt to quell your frustration.
You can practically hear your mother snap at you. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you, (Your Nickname), unless you want to die, her stern voice echoes. You unclench your teeth with a sigh.
It doesn’t take long, your anger simmering down with each exhale, and when you’re sure you’re calm enough, you resume your initial task: scavenging the barn. Is it a waste of time and energy? Yes. Will you find anything useful? Unlikely. Are you going to try anyway?
You head for the stairs to the hayloft. Even if there seems to be nothing left, you need to make sure.
A few minutes later, you're sifting through another trunk when a yelp cuts across the dusty air, followed by the shrill sound of grinding metal. You startle, hissing as you bang your head against the trunk lid. Pushing down the throbbing pain, you snatch your spear and clamber down the stairs, stumbling forward as your eyes darting around the dust drifting in the air. Something barks over you and you look up.
Huh. Did not expect that.
You were prepared for a snarling, limb crushing insect. Or maybe a triple jawed mammal. Even a mega-pig. You’ve seen enough of those and managed.
But a dog? More specifically, a dog caught in the net you barely avoided. It’s tangled in the ropes suspended just above your head, gently swaying. It seems it does not care for the swinging because it starts barking again, louder and more urgent than before.
“Ah, poor doggy,” you croon, lowering your weapon. To your surprise, the dog stops and jerks to face you, its dark eyes gleaming in the shadows. You eye the seemingly calm animal. “Now, how did you get here? Were you following me?”
The dog whines, squirming in a sad attempt to escape. Your lips quirk up. Aside from the occasional bird, you haven’t seen a normal animal in what feels like forever, much less a dog. Most regular animals were consumed by monsters or by people for food.
Food. You haven’t eaten.
You study the dog; its dark brown fur, sleek and short, its body small⎼almost medium sized, with pointed ears and a long snout. And by the way it looks at you, it has some intelligence.
Your stomach grumbles, and the creature cocks its head at you, ears forward.
Shit.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” you grimace at the dog, adjusting your hold before aiming the tip at it. “It’s nothing personal, okay? I’m hungry, and you’re the first thing I’ve seen that hasn’t tried to kill me in a while.”
Which isn’t a lie. Hunting is crazy difficult these days. But you swallow as your eyes meet, its stare unwavering like you aren’t pointing a weapon at his little body. Just one motion and you could end its life painlessly (lucky bastard), but your knuckles go white and you grip falters. Why are you hesitating now?
The dog, as if sensing your battle, barks again, this time more composed than panicked, as if trying to communicate with you. You’re grateful you can’t speak Dog. It’s probably saying something like ‘No, you’re better than this’ or ‘Please don’t do this’ or⎼
“Put him down!”
Or that.
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Dear Aimee,
Guess what?
I got a dog! And he’s the coolest, his name is Boy.
He saved my life from a giant frog in a pool who tried to eat me with his tongue, and then we hung out in his bus! Man, do we make a great team. We found out that we have a ton in common too. I feel like we can talk about anything.  
You gotta see us out here; we’re like this iconic duo. I don’t know, feels like when we’re together, we’re unstoppable.
“Right, Boy? Boy?” Joel glances at his side, doing a double take. The dog’s gone. His shoulders slump, “Of course, the first friend I’ve made outside and he leaves me. Sounds about right.”
He didn’t think he could gain and lose a friend within the span of two days. This has to be some kind of record.
He jerks when he hears Boy’s faint barking, guiding him as he drags himself back to the old barn they just passed. For good reasons. The decaying barn looks like it’s in need of a new contractor and a paint job… or three. And an exterminator.
God, the surface is terrifying.
Gulping down his dread, Joel crouches to peer through the gaping hole in the wall. This must be where Boy came through. “Whatcha got there?”
The barking ceases, and so does Joel’s heart.
You stand in the dark like an apparition, back turned to him so he can’t make out your features. Your attention is fixed on the shadowed lump hanging over you, and while it’s dark and he doesn’t have a good vantage point, Joel’s mouth goes dry as he seeks out Boy.
Boy woofs again, and Joel’s heart drops. You step closer to the lump.
For a split second, he sees a flash of his mother’s face, her tears streaming down her cheeks.
He doesn’t think; no thoughts, head empty. Blood roars in his ears. His hands tremble. But he doesn’t hesitate, ripping the makeshift crossbow from his back as he scrambles under the opening.
“Put him down!”
He’s not entirely sure what he expects. He’s read enough comic books to understand the situation; the hero drops in to save damsel in distress then proceeds to demolish the bad guys. Technically, he has the upper-hand here. Right?
But realization slams into him. It knocks the air out of him, and he forgets to breathe.
He shouldn’t have barged in like an idiot. He isn’t a hero. He’s nothing like the superheroes in comics and movies and graphic novels. He doesn’t have super strength or speed or highly advanced tech and he sure as hell is not a genius. 
What he does have: a freezing problem.
He’s already lost feeling in his hands, and he almost drops the weapon as you look over your shoulder at him.
On the other hand, you have a pretty clear idea before you face your captor (seeing him now, can you even consider him that?). With the apocalypse, governments crumbled with ease along with laws and morals, so it’d make sense for people to disregard them. You’ve met quite a few… characters, and you’ve chalked it up to these main categories; garbage thieves, sleazy scavengers, and shitty thugs.
In short, humans are selfish creatures. Prepare for the worst.
You’ve thrown down, fought dirty, bartered with them all and still managed to come out on top, the scars across your body a constant reminder. Nothing surprises you at this point.
A fumbling boy though? You mask your amusement, raising an eyebrow as you take him in. The guy, tall and disheveled, blocks the only exit out of this godforsaken place, his red jacket rumpled and dusty like he’s fallen one too many times. However, what nearly sends you is, as he steps further into the light, you bite your lip, his eyes round and small lips pressed together as the crossbow quakes in his hands.
Who let this puppy out of their sight?
“Listen, buddy,” You finally speak, making Joel flinch. Your eyes narrow as his fingers jerk on the trigger. That’s not good. “If you’re gonna point that thing at me, you better know how to use it.”
He sucks in air, clearing his throat as his eyes dart between Boy and you. He cringes when his voice comes out octaves higher than he expected, “Let Boy go.”
“’Boy’?” You glance up, your weapon still raised at the squirming little fellow. “Oh, you mean Dinner?”
“You were gonna eat him?”
You shrug. “Maybe. Depends how this goes.”
“Okay,” Joel swallows, a futile attempt to keep his tone even as nausea sprouts in him. You plan to eat Boy? How can someone eat something so cute? “Let him go, and we’ll leave you alone. How ‘bout that?”
Beads of sweat drip down his temple as his breaths come out shuddered. He’s not used to this; he’s gone from being the chef of his colony to making demands, negotiating with a possible psycho.  He never trained for this! Well, he’d never been trained, period.
What if he says the wrong thing and sets you off, hurting Boy in the process? He might faint⎼no⎼he will faint. He doesn’t think his heart can handle losing more people… or animals. How is he supposed to save Boy? His fingers twitch against the trigger.
You don’t miss it.
“I don't know about that,” You reply, studying him. His hands tremble as they clutch the weapon. He may not be a scavenger or a thief, but that just makes him all the more unpredictable. Goons, you’d expect them to shoot first, ask questions later, but the fact this guy is making an effort to talk? You want to know his angle, his intentions.
Whether it’s good or bad.
“I’m hungry. It’s going to be dark soon, and Boy here,” You jerk your head at the canine, “was unlucky enough to fall into this ol’ trap.”
You watch, withholding a sneer as emotions and thoughts flit across Joel’s face like an open book. It seems a lightbulb goes off because he looks back at you, eyes wide and hopeful. “You want food? I have some in my backpack. If I give it to you, you let him go?”
He tries not to squirm, the little courage he has waning as your eyes bore into him.
“…Put the crossbow and the bag down. Slowly.”
“You too.” You tilt your head curiously as Joel stutters, “Your spear⎼I mean, if you could stop pointing it at my dog. Please.”
Your brows shoot up. Since the moment he entered⎼wait⎼floundered in here, he could not have made it more obvious that he has no idea what he’s doing. If it wasn’t the way he carried that exposed him, it was definitely his facial expressions, and if not his face, you can hear it trickle through the cracks in his voice. Yet despite how unfair the situation is for him, he’s trying to cover his terror. Failing miserably but trying. All for this cute, little doggy.
And he said please. You ignore the way it warmed you, his tone so…. genuine.
Manners, sincere or not, in the face of danger? You have to respect that.
“It’s a javelin, actually, but I agree to your terms.” Your grip slackens. He might be a wimp, but you have to give it to him. He’s got balls.
A flicker of relief crosses his face, and you both comply with your instructions. In spite of his obvious fear, you roll your eyes as he unzips his bag unnecessarily slower than you meant him to, throwing you a look.
On second thought, he’s either really brave or really stupid. It’s fifty-fifty at this point.
Joel pulls out an aluminum can. It glints in the light as he holds it up and tosses it to you. You catch it easily, inspecting it in your hands.
“Now will you let my dog go⎼Boy!” His scream tears through the barn.
You’re already composed. Uncoiling like a snake, you seize your spear and swing, all in one motion. He lunges for you, but you’re too far. He hits the ground.
Groaning in pain, he berates himself. He should have known; they had no reason to trust each other, so of course this stranger, this psycho, would betray him. He tries to brush it off, the false sense of security dissipating, the relief replaced with crushing betrayal and horror. 
This is what the surface is like? His chest clenches. He can’t breath, but this isn’t like when he freezes up on a monster. At least, not those monsters. This is worse. So much worse.
The net rips, then a pained grunt. Joel shields his eyes, burying his face in his hands as tears trail down his dirt-smudged cheeks. His heart thunders in his ears as he prepares for the inescapable sound of Boy’s pained yelps, the squelch of metal piercing flesh. He chokes down a sob.
He only knew Boy for less than two days, but within that timespan he bared his soul to the animal. He probably knew him better than his own colony. In the short time they had together, he became his best friend⎼
Okay, ew. What is licking him?
“Boy?” Joel groans, flinching away as the dog bombards him with wet kisses. “Wait, you’re not dead?”
You step into the light, javelin in hand as you snort, “Of course not. Did you think I was gonna kill him?”
Yes. Joel sits up and cradles Boy to his chest, gawking at you.
You glare at him, almost offended. “I’m not a monster.”
No. No you are not.
Decked in a faded blue jacket, you stand relaxed, spear perched over your shoulder (or a jav⎼java-something). Your eyes glint in the sunlight like steel, hard and piercing, with dark circles under them. You watch him with a slight frown. And like him, there’s smudges of dirt on your face and clothes, but you manage to make it look cool and purposeful.
You don’t look like a monster, but you kind of acted like one. Joel is conflicted.
He opens his mouth to respond, but he's not sure what to say in this situation, overwhelmed by a cocktail of emotions that he’s still coming down from. Before he conjures an appropriate response (is there even one?), you're shouldering your backpack and slipping through the gap. Joel rushes to his feet. “Hey, wait!”
You continue up the hill, not bothering to turn to him as you purse your lips. “Oh. You’re still here.”
“Yeah, I’m ‘still here’! You held my dog hostage; kind of hard to get over,” he grumbles, panting as he trudges after you with Boy at his heels. You’re faster than you look. “So⎼uh⎼where you heading?”
“Away.”
He nods almost sage-like, wringing his hands together. “Cool, cool. So mysterious,” He pauses, inhaling deeply. His voice, now deeper and a bit more relaxed, comes in a rush as he asks, “Is there any chance we could go with you?”
You freeze, and Joel almost crashes into your back. You whirl around and suddenly you’re faced to face, but you’re too astonished by his question to care that he’s in your personal bubble.
His breathes come in heaves. His eyes are big and round, brown and bright with… hope?
It occurs to you that this guy, who hasn’t even given you his name, is a loser. A hopeful, naive loser.
And it’s for that reason you come to a decision⎼you’ll entertain him. 
“Where are you going?”
“West,” Joel’s shoulders hunch, his voice self-assured as he adds, “to the coast.”
Yeah... fuck that. 
You turn to walk away. “No.”
“Wait!”
You glower at him, stopping him in his tracks. “Dude, we got what we wanted. I got food, you got your dog. End of transaction.”
Joel stares at you for a moment, like he’s debating how far he can test you. He seems to think better of it as his shoulders sag and he caves, “Fine, I’ll head west without you. I can do it.” The last part he says more to himself before turning on his heel, starting in the direction opposite of you.
You nod. This is good, for the both of you. And safer, you tell yourself as you turn to begin your trek again. You’re two strangers in the apocalypse; you don’t know who he is, where he’s been, and, from your experience, it’s best to travel alone. It’s inconspicuous, efficient and⎼
Where the hell is he going?
You halt, squinting as you watch him hike away from the west coast. “Hey!”
He looks at you over his shoulder, his face surprised but expectant. Hopeful. He reminds you of a puppy being called over by their owner.
He thinks you’re caving into him.
Well, jokes on you, loser. You raise an eyebrow, “You know that’s not West, right?”
“Oh,” Joel’s eyes widen, clearing his throat. Boy woofs and he shoots him a withered look, altering his trajectory. “I knew that.”
“That’s not West either.”
He switches directions again.
You shake your head. “No.“
And again.
“Nope.”
Joel’s face reddens, unable to meet your eyes as he stops trying so he doesn’t further humiliate himself.
You make your way over to him, rolling your eyes. He seems to make you do that a lot. “Okay, how much food you got on you?”
“Enough to last me a week? Why⎼”
That’s all you needed to hear.
“Then it’s settled,” You decide, clapping him on the shoulder. He winces. “You share your rations with me, and I’ll help you get to the West coast.”
He blinks, clearly taken aback as you begin your trek once again, gesturing him to follow you. You feel his eyes on your back. “Really?”
“Really. You are a food source. Also I’m pretty sure you’d die before getting halfway.” You add, unabashed.
He frowns, unsure whether to be grateful or not. He decides on the latter. “Oh…thanks anyway?”
“You're really not from around here, are you?” You pause, looking back at him.
He scratches the back of his neck. “No. Is it that obvious?”
“Painfully. So free advice,” You, with a hand on your hip and tone clipped, gesture up and down at his⎼well⎼everything. “Try not to let anyone know you’re a newb. Might keep you alive.” With that, you start heading West, not bothering to see if he’s comprehended the note you bestowed on him.
Joel glances down at himself before trailing after you. “Good to know.”
AN: I want to make it clear: I would never eat a dog, you would never eat a dog, no one would ever eat. A. Dog. That was a joke for this part 1. I even wrote emphasis on your character’s hesitation. It’s just that this is the apocalypse, so it’s safe to assume that survivors are driven into corners, desperate and have to make some hard choices.
The end dialogue is reference to @teenwolffanclub-me ​TW rewrite bc i love it and them so if you like Dylan O’ Brien and Stiles pls read their shit. <333
This part is a slow starter, but I don’t want to rush this, your intro and your development. But, now that you’ve finally met, hopefully the rest won’t seem any slower than the beginning.
I’ve never wrote for a lone survivor kind of character before. I hope you enjoyed the intro nonetheless!
I think I’ll forgo the 7 parts idea, but that’s a goal.
Part 2 in progress.
Also, how to get a beta reader??
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dusksmote · 3 years
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2020 in perspective...
i originally got into south park in 2010, left the fandom in 2011, then nearly a decade later in december, 2019 i came back again. 
January: butters sketch
i hadn’t been in a serious fandom for years, hadn’t drawn or written anything seriously in years. i went on a trip to denver, colorado, and came back ready to get fucking into it. i started writing the longest single work i’ve done to date, Ecstasy (130k, not yet posted). this piece was the first drawing i did this year, while riding the train home from my internship. a shitty little sketch of butters from the fanfic, with mohawk and glasses.
February: latex tweek
still traditional art only. started getting serious about shading, and drew LATEX TWEEK (also from Ecstasy). Finished the 1st draft of the fanfic this month and went into the editing phase.
March: juggalo stan and kyle
why? did i forget to mention everyone in Ecstasy is a juggalo? long story. finished the current (final?) draft of Ecstasy. 
April: stan and mpreg kyle
STILL doing traditional art. started working on my next fanfic project, a prequel to Ecstasy--BUT FIRST i read @blesspastacraig​‘s fanfic Best Laid Plans and it inspired me to write my oneshot Our Fish Alien (2k, complete). Got my Ao3 account this month and decided to post it with some art. hence, style mpreg art. started incorporating prop elements (hospital bed), but still too spooked to try backgrounds. 
my friend @cola-fiend​ convinced me to make a tumblr and post some sketches, ergo here we are. this eventually lead requesters to ask for more mpreg, which snowballed until i made a fucking discord server for it, but i’m getting ahead of myself.
May: fat kyle
the last time i did digital art was 2015 when my tablet broke, then in may i found out there’s free phone apps for drawing. so my first digital drawing in half a decade was fat kyle and his skinny boytoy 😂 by now i’d scrapped my plans for an Ecstasy prequel and had started writing Eat That Lunch (27k, complete), and wanted the art to look better. i started by drawing the lines traditionally then coloring the picture digitally 😬 yikes
June: crimson dawn
now we’re cooking with gas. i watched a few art tutorials and tried drawing something serious with digital line art. i was working on my tiny fucking iphone 5 screen and this piece took over 35 hours 🤘😔 no backgrounds yet
July: tweek and baby
my first commission! @blesspastacraig​ and i are now collaborators and friends and i got to illustrate some of her fanfictions. this one’s from Algorithm! (which i totally helped inspire >_>) blurry ‘baby’s first’ background in there too. i also started writing the sequel to ETL this month, What They Say About Us (50~k, incomplete), but didn’t publish it until september.
August: boxer tweek
first attempt at a lineless, painting style. did this one for tweek’s birthday. not a great first piece for a new art style, but a very important design shift that’s changed how i color completely. also switched to an ipad instead of my small-ass phone screen phew
September: boys eat at shakey’s
posted WTSAU! i wanted to make this fic look super fucking good and probably put more effort than i should have into all the art. BUT, forcing myself to illustrate it is what’s really helped me gain more artistic skills. this is my first scenic piece with full color background. i also started writing my next big fic, Wayward Son (50~k, not yet posted), based in the same universe as @blesspastacraig​‘s fanfic Hungry. it was supposed to be a oneshot and now it’s 95 pages long dammit!! 😭
October: broflovski passover
resumed online classes and creative progress suffered for it 😔 i still managed to put out a lot of work i’m proud of, like this seder scene from WTSAU chapter 3. full background and 8 characters? pssh, can’t scare me. i showed this drawing to my boss, who named it ‘the confused gentile’. oh stan.
November: gunslinger kyle and stan of many moons
honestly? not sure how i survived this month. but i knew the start of december was gonna be worse so i jumped on style week as soon as they put the prompts out (this was the second one i drew). at this point i enjoy painting backgrounds more than the figures in them.
December: style clubhouse
i drew so much stuff this month it’s hard to pick one thing to represent it all, but--the seventh day of style week has a bit of everything i’ve learned. background. colors. lighting. concept. crazy when you compare it to january.
now i’m back to work on putting out WTSAU chapter 5. after that’s done i’ll pick which fanfic to post next and get cracking on art for that. Wayward Son’s in it’s final pages, so i’ll be picking up a new fanfic project in the coming weeks too. 
overall? 2020, you were a wild south park year, just like 2010. i honestly can’t believe how far i’ve come as an artist considering i spent the first 1/3rd of this year sketching on napkins and shit, and here we are. looking forward to all the improvement in 2021 💚💙
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tony-is-my-daddy · 3 years
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Dream a little dream of me pt2
The weather was bad, it was getting a bit cold at the middle of October now, but Peter and his little students were outside on the playground. He was pushing one of the youngest little boys in the swing who couldn't do it by himself yet, while watching over the rest of the children around him so no one would get hurt. Of course, you wouldn't think a class of fifteen kids was a lot to look after, but honestly, even looking after one was a challenge for some people.
It was nice, though, the kids were slowly starting to go home with their parents, even the little boy who he was swinging, and after a while, it was just him and Morgan. It was strange, Morgan was usually one of the first kids to be taken home.
"Hey princess. Who's coming for you today," he asked as he sat down next to the little girl who sat on a bench, swinging her legs that couldn't reach the ground.
"Eric..."
Peter frowned. "Who's Eric?"
"My new dad. I don't wike him too much."
Oh. "Your mommy has a new boyfriend?"
"Yes he's gunna be my new dad."
"Well, when did you meet him?"
"Last week..."
"That's a very little tiny short time," Peter said, his thumb and index finger almost touching as he showed how small he meant to the girl. "Why don't you wait until you get to know him better? Maybe you will like him."
"But I wanted you to be my new dad..."
His heart skipped a beat at that. "Now now, Morgan, daddy told you not to talk about this, right?"
"Right... sorry."
"It's okay, bub. Just be nice to Eric, okay? You can't be sure what he's like if you don't know him yet."
"Otay."
Just then, someone walked through the gate, a tall, broad man with black hair and brown eyes. He smiled when he spotted Morgan on the bench.
"Hi Morgan! I'm so sorry for being late, it won't happen again, I promise," he said as he walked over to her and Peter. "Hi um I'm sorry, this won't be a regular occasion, traffic was just a nightmare," he explained to Peter this time. "Eric."
"Peter. It's okay, I gladly spend my whole day with this little angel, ain't that right, Morgan?" The little girl giggled as Peter pinched her cheek. "Alright, now go home with Eric, bub."
"Goodbye, Mr. Parker," she said as she jumped off the bench.
"Bye bye Morgan!"
Morgan and Eric walked out and got in a car, leaving Peter alone on the school grounds. He sighed as he looked around, the playground that was a few minutes ago full of screaming children now so lifeless. It was scary and he didn't like being there without the kids, so he went back to his classroom where he collected all of his belongings. He checked his phone before leaving and saw a message from Tony.
Tony: Ready for tonight?
Peter: Not yet, just got out of work
Tony: You're still beautiful
Peter: Don't make me blush
Tony: ;)
It was Friday again, almost a week after their first date, and now they were going on a second. Peter was so excited about having their second date now, since he very much enjoyed their first one. It all still seemed so surreal, him dating Tony Stark, texting him every single day and seeing him occasionally when he came to get Morgan. He loved it, of course, but he wouldn't be surprised if this all were just some kind of fever dream or a bad joke. Though be prayed for it not to be.
When he got home, he laid down for a while, opening up his chat with Tony again as he put something on for background noise on the TV.
Peter: What should I wear?
Tony: ?
Peter: This is a fancy place
Tony: Not that fancy
Peter: Fancier than what a kindergarten teacher is used to
Peter: So what should I wear?
Tony: I'll be wearing a suit and tie, if that helps
Peter: Then we should match
Tony: You're adorable
Peter: I know :)
Tony: Literally everything you wear will look amazing on you because EVERYTHING LOOKS FUCKING AMAZING WHEN YOU WEAR IT
Peter: You say that because you haven't seen me in my lazy sunday attire yet XD
Tony: What does that look like?
Peter: A shirt that's 3 sizes big on me and sweatpants
Peter: And ugly glasses
Tony: I wear ugly glasses too
Tony: But that's even worse since I wear them because I'm old as fuck
Peter: You're only 10 years older than me
Tony: I'd like to point out that you have daddy issues but then that would seem like I'm not glad that you do so I'll just keep quiet
Peter: Shut up and get dressed XD
Tony: Alright, see you in a bit ;)
God, he loved their banter.
During the past week, they really spoke every single day, for the first two days Tony texted him first, and then Peter got brave enough to text first as well. They got to know each other more, they told each other about their traumas and families - Peter about that one aunt that he still had and loved, and Tony about his dad and mom, then his closest friends who he counted as family. Peter now also knew that Tony loved old school rock, cheeseburgers and liked to work on old cars in his free time, that he went to MIT and graduated early with perfect grades. Tony knew about how much Peter loved to cook and that he loved pets, especially cats, and he was really into the 50's and 60's songs, that he was a nerd back in school and he was part of the decathlon team.
So basically, now they knew a shit ton of things about each other, even just after a week. It was crazy, they wouldn't stop talking to each other, it was like they were fifteen years old in love again.
As Peter's mind was wandering back to Tony and to how amazing of a person he was, he slowly began to get ready for their date. He chose one of his two suits (wow, what a great job) and a baby blue tie that looked good with the light grey. He got dressed, gelled his hair back, and he was ready to go. Thankfully, not long after that Tony texted, saying he's just leaving his place. Peter waited until the doorbell rung again and this time, he let Tony in. There was nothing wrong in letting the man look around, right?
"Hey Tones," Peter greeted when he opened his door for the man. "Come on in, I just have to put on my jacket and my shoes and we can go."
Tony walked in and looked around the small kitchen and dining space. He peeked through the archway to the living room as well, then hummed. "Living cozy up here, I see."
"Very," Peter chuckled. "That's what the landlord said when I was looking around the place as well, I assume because the best was to describe a small ass apartment is ‘cozy’." Tony laughed at that.
"Well it might be small but it's very homey. I like it a lot." The older man leaned over to look at the succulents that stood in a perfect line on his windowsill. "I like the plants."
"Oh there's a lot of them in here, most of them I keep in the living room. Wanna check them out?"
"Yeah sure-" he looked at his watch, "oh wow, maybe not now. We're gonna be late for our reservation."
"Oh sorry, yes, let's go," he said as he pulled up the zipper on his jacket.
They went to a modern place which looked super expensive, but Tony assured him that ut wasn't actually. They sat down at a nice little table for two, a romantic candle lit between the two of them at the center of it. Everything looked so nice and Peter was so excited. They ordered their dinner and began eating as soon as the waiter brought it to them. They were both very hungry already.
"How do you like it," Tony asked.
"Oh it's absolutely amazing. How's yours?"
"Good. I think my mamma made it better, though."
Peter's eyes widened. "Your... mamma?"
"Yeah, my mother used to cook a lot of italian dishes that she learned from my grandmother. She always said that italian food was the best kind of food in the world."
"Wow, I didn't know that."
Tony smirked. "You also didn't know I was half italian."
"No way!"
"Yep."
When they got back from the date to Peter's place, it was already quite late, yet it seemed too early to let the man leave just yet. Peter desperately looked around his house to find something, anything, that could make the older man want to stay for a bit more.
"Hey, I have some leftover wine. It's not Chardonnay or anything like that, but... if you wanna stay for a while and drink some then I think... I wouldn't be very opposed to that."
Tony smirked. "Well how can I say no when you're asking so nicely?"
They took of their jackets, shoes and blazers and Peter grabbed two glasses and the bottle on their way to the living room. They sat down on the couch and started drinking. Tony was looking around the place, the stairs behind Peter's desk catching his eyes and he finally looked up to see a loft bedroom.
"You actually sleep up there?"
Peter laughed. "Yeah, I do."
"There's no walls, aren't you scared of falling off?"
"There's fencing up there, Tones. See, all around the flooring."
"And where's your bed?"
"Oh I don't have a bed. I have a mattress on the floor."
"What the fuck?!"
"Yeah, I mean, it didn't seem like a good idea to have that old hardwood flooring hold up not just my weight but also a bed's weight. So I thought a mattress would be enough. It's actually quite nice up there, I have lots of plants."
"Yeah, and if you come home drunk you might break a leg on your way to your... mattress."
"That's why I mever drink until I get drunk."
They discussed Peter's living situations for some time, and when they finally stopped talking for a minute or two, Tony looked at his watch.
"It's late, isn's it," Peter asked.
"Almost midnight."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you here for so long."
"No, it's fine. I didn't really... wanna leave anyway."
Peter smiled, looking away from the older man's eyes shyly. "You know, if it's already so late... and you had a lot of wine now, maybe... it wouldn't be a great idea to drive home."
"Peter Parker, are you asking me to sleep over?"
He glanced up at the older man through his thick lashes. "Would that be okay?"
Tony put the glass half full of wine down on the coffe table and leaned in to capture Peter's lips in a soft kiss. "It would be more than okay," he breathed when they pulled away. Peter grinned from ear to ear and he pulled Tony back in for another kiss by his tie, this one deeper, more passionate than the one before. They ended up making out for about ten minutes on the couch, Peter's arms around Tony's neck and his legs in Tony's lap, the man's arms wrapped around his body and hands stroking his back. It was perfect. Sexy. Until Peter forgot that he still had a glass of wine in his hand and spilled it all over the back of Tony's shirt.
Tony, of course, forgave him, but it definitely killed the vibes. Tony's dress shirt ended up soaking in the sink while the two of them fell asleep, cuddling on Peter's mattress.
After that great second date, Peter invited Tony over on Tuesday the next week to bake a pumpkin pie together. Yes, it was a lame idea for a third date but it was his turn to finally ask Tony out, and he didn't really want to go anywhere, he just wanted to stay in his apartment, bake a pie and maybe cuddle with Tony under a blanket afterwards. Let a man dream!
Tony didn't seem to have any problems with the idea and on Tuesday, after both of their shift was over, he went over to Peter's.
"Hey! So great to see you again," Peter greeted him with a kiss.
"You saw me yesterday night when we FaceTimed," Tony said.
"Yeah, but that was on FaceTime, it's not the same. Come on, get undressed and we can get to it. I hope you're ready for cutting it open because I can't do that."
"Are you serious," Tony chuckled.
"Don't laugh at me! Just help."
No, Peter was obviously not serious. Cutting a pumpkin open was difficult, but he could've done it if he wanted to. But then he wouldn't have seen Tony roll up his sleeves and his biceps flex as he cut the pumpkin open, which would've been a shame. God, the man was so damn hot...
They cut the pumpkin and cooked it for a while for the filling while they made the pie crust together. It was such a great thing to do together, Peter enjoyed it, to be honest, more than he enjoyed their other dates. He loved cooking and spending time with Tony, mixing the two together only made things that much better.
"It says lightly floured hands, Tony," Peter yelled. "You don't have to take a handful of flour!"
"Oh I know what the recipe says, this isn't for the dough. I just thought maybe I could return that you ruined my favorite shirt last weekend." He wiggled his eyebrows while not taking his eyes off Peter.
"Nooo, no no no no, I said I was sorry!" But it was too late. His date threw the handful of flour at him, covering his shirt (he wasn't wearing an apron because he only had one and gave it to Tony, God damn it!) and even a little bit of his neck and chin.
"Yeah, that's what you get," Tony laughed wholeheartedly, his entire body shaking with his genuine laughter. It was adorable, honestly, and if Peter wasn't covered in flour, he would've smiled at how sweet Tony's laughter was.
"You're a meanie! That wine thing was an accident but this wasn't," he said like he meant it, but honestly, he was enjoying it a bit as well.
"Oh, I'm sorry my dear." The older man cupped his face with his floury hands and kissed him. Peter completely forgot about what happened for a minute, but then Tony's hand slipped into his hair, ruffling it so that the flour got everywhere.
They pulled away from the kiss, Tony grinning widely while Peter tried to mask his own smile and look angry. "White looks so good on you, baby."
"Oh yeah? Let's see it on you!" Peter reached into the flour bowl as well and the next thing Tony saw was him blowing the little white particles at him, he had just
enough time to close his eyes before they hit his face. "Aww, so amazing," the younger man laughed, rubbing the flour into his date's beard.
"You're so immature."
"You started this!"
While they fought over who was more childish, constantly throwing more and more flour at each other until there was barely any more left, they almost overcooked the pumpkin and they made no progress with the crust. Tony also told Peter that he was a terrible cook, which started out another playfight between them until they were wrestling on the dirty kitchen tiles, laughing and screaming as they fought for dominance. The older man ended up on top of Peter, straddling his hips while holding one of his wrists in each hand to stop him from fighting. Their laughter soon died off and Tony leaned down to kiss Peter, the kiss tasted like flour, but it didn't matter.
"I forget why I came here now," Tony joked.
"I wanted to bake a nice pie with my boyfriend, but nooo, you just had to ruin it," Peter said, laughing through the sentence and he wouldn't have noticed what he said if it wasn't for the smile on Tony's face changing into pure shock. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I- that was so wrong, I know we've only had two dates so far and we never even talked about where this whole thing was going. I'm sorry for being so forward, I wasn't thinking."
"You really think about me like that?" Tony's head tilted to the side slightly, like an adorable curious puppy's. And Peter would've commented on that if it wasn't for how nervous he felt at that moment. He swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly very dry.
"Well..."
"Because, you know, I've never... felt this way with anyone before." Tony finally let go of his wrists and scooted off his hips to sit on the tile, now Peter sitting up as well to face him.
"Me neither..."
"It's so weird, I mean, we really haven't spent much time together but this whole thing feels so... natural."
"It does, doesn't it?" He felt so relieved. He wasn't the only one feeling that way! "I mean, talking to you is just so easy and I really like it. You make me happy."
"You make me feel like I'm twenty-something again," Tony joked and Peter smiled slightly, pushing at the man's shoulder. "No, seriously now, you make me feel young, happy, whole. I have never ever felt that before with anyone, and you... like, this is literally our third date and look at us!"
Peter laughed out loud now. "Where are we going with all this, Tones?"
"I think... I think it's a bold move, but how about we just become official?"
"You mean like actual boyfriends?"
"Yeah! I mean, what could go wrong? We both want this and we seem to perfectly match!"
"It's kinda early though, aren't you scared?"
"Hella fucking scared. It's like bungee jumping off a cliff. But everyone who's been bungee jumping and didn't die say it was an amazing experience."
"And what if we die?"
"Then... we'll know not to bungee jump again."
Peter chuckled. "So... boyfriends?"
"Boyfriends." He crawled into Tony's lap and kissed him again, this time it lasted longer. Their first kiss as an actual couple, and it happened nowhere else, but on Peter's dirty kitchen tiles while they were both covered in flour and who knows what else. And the pie was long forgotten.
Tony invited Peter over to his house as well. He said he'd seen Peter's multiple times while Peter had never seen his. So Tony drove him over to the Stark Tower and they went all the way up to the penthouse at the top of the huge building. On their way, they ran into Pepper as well, who greeted Peter with a big smile and told him that Tony had said a lot about him already. Peter was happy and Tony was blushing, but no one saw that (Peter did see it).
When they got up to the penthouse, Peter's jaw dropped to the floor. The living room itself was bigger than Peter's whole apartment and probably just the furniture costed more than his rent.
"Wow, this place was probably a chick magnet," he noted as he walked through the living room.
"It was but it doesn't work anymore. Now I just use it to amaze beautiful doe-eyed teachers with it."
"Well, it fucking works. This place looks great, Tony!"
"I'm glad you like it." His boyfriend stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around his middle. "You know, it's definitely bigger than your... cozy apartment. And it has a bed. A king sized one, actually, that can fit the two of us perfectly."
"What are you saying, babe?"
The older man started peppering kisses on Peter's shoulder and up his neck, making him shiver. "Well, you could spend some more time here, you know. It has a nice working area, a big kitchen where you can cook whatever you want, and I have Netfix, Hulu and Disney+. It's a real dream, you know."
"Tony, babe, this is very nice of you but what if Morgan will get confused? I mean, she already wants me to be her dad-"
The kisses stopped. "She does?"
Peter mentally smacked his own head. "Uh... she might've been saying things to me about that ever since you first asked me out."
"Wow. She never told me about that. I mean, she asked about how you were when I told her I met you again, but nothing about... that."
Peter turned around in Tony's arm to face the slightly taller man. "On the first day Eric came to pick her up, she was all gloomy because she said she wanted me to be her new dad. And she once gave me a drawing where he drew Pepper, herself and you and me."
"Well, maybe that's a sign then?"
He frowned. "What kind of sign would that be?"
"If Morgan likes you then we really were meant to be. If everything's going so smoothly then maybe the universe is trying to tell us that we belong together."
Peter smiled, leaning his head against Tony's chest. "I want this all, Tony. I really do. But I'm so scared something will go wrong," he whispered.
Tony pushed his chin up with his fingers to make Peter look into his beautiful dark brown eyes. "Let's not worry about the future just yet. Let yourself fall, baby, I'm here to catch you, okay?" Peter nodded, and Tony pulled him into a sweet, loving kiss.
The kiss turned into making out, and then soon enough, hands were roaming bodies and their kisses grew more and more hungry. Tony pulled Peter upstairs into the master bedroom where they settled on the king sized bed, clothes flying off and touches becoming bolder, until they were completely naked.
And they made love. It was amazing, better than any sex they've had before, it was sweet, sensual, passionate, loving, and their bodies fit together so perfectly. After reaching their climax together, they laid in each other's embrace for a while, breathing heavy as they recovered from such an amazing orgasm. And those three little words were so close to slipping from Peter's mouth, but he wasn't gonna say it. Not just yet. But someday.
Someday...
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Text
I Promise
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Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, John, Azazel, Bobby (Mentioned), Callum (OMC Mentioned), Grace (OFC Mentioned)
Warnings: Weechesters, John’s an ass, Fluff, Angst, Character Death
A/N: Sam is about 3-4 years old and Dean around 7-8 years old in this. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written with 2,454 words. 
Header by: @sorenmarie87​
Beta’d by: @cloverhighfive and @mariekoukie6661
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      No one raised your blood pressure like John Winchester. He was always such an arrogant prick when he dropped his boys off at your house. You kept Dean and Sam as a favor to Bobby, so he could keep John from doing something stupid and because you loved them. They needed some normalcy and love in their chaotic lives.
You had been mentally preparing yourself to deal with him after Bobby had called to tell you the boys were coming your way and just be ready because John was already in a mood. “A mood,” You snorted. “When isn’t he in a mood?” You made one last pass through the house, double-checking you had removed anything the boys could get in. You’d have to go to the store for food, but you didn’t mind taking them with you. They were good kids. 
John’s Impala rumbled down your street, making you groan. Here we go. You give him a moment to park before you open the door in and lean on the frame. “Hi, boys!” You smile and wave at Sam and Dean, climbing out of the car. Sam grins, and all but tackles your legs. “Hi, Ms. Y/N.” Dean smiles as he walks up with his bag over his shoulder. He grabs Sam’s hand and goes inside. You watch them race up the stairs to your bedroom. Probably to jump on your bed. You think to yourself. The trunk of the impala slams, startling you. 
“Princess.” John nods at you, a smirk on his lips. 
“Winchester.” 
“What? I don’t get a smile and peppy hello like my boys do?” He tosses Sam’s bag at you, chuckling as you almost miss it. 
“I like your children, you not so much,” you quip, pulling the strap over your shoulder. 
“I’m hurt, princess,” he says, placing his hand over his heart. “And here I thought you loved me. You’re always so warm and friendly.” You roll your eyes and flip him off. 
“Not your princess, Winchester.” 
“You sure do act like one.” John crosses his arms and leans against the impala, a smug look on his face.
“Excuse me?! What is that supposed to mean?” 
“It means you sit here in your cushy little house, living off your dead husband’s money and letting Bobby do all the dirty work in finding who killed him and your kid.” You push off the doorframe and stomp down the porch stairs to be face to face with the man. Without thinking, you slap him as hard as you can, the sound echoing. 
“First off, get your fucking facts straight! I never asked Bobby to do that. Second, I work my ass off to pay for my shit. I don’t need to forge credit cards or have aliases. Third, don’t you ever mention Callum and Grace. Ever. At least I learned to cope and live a normal life instead of dragging two young boys into the hunting business on a revenge mission. Get the hell off my property.” You don’t look at him as you turn and walk back into your house. Closing the door, you sink to the floor.
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      “Having fun?” You grin as Sam and Dean freeze, pillows poised to hit each other. 
“We’re playing pirates,” Dean tells you, climbing down from your bed. “These are our swords!” His eyes are bright as he explains their game. The boys giggle when you tell them you’ll be the beautiful princess they’re fighting over. 
“You need a cwown, Pwincess Y/N,” Sam tells you. 
“You’re absolutely right, Captain Smelly Feet, and I think I have just the thing!” You walk over to your dresser, opening the locked jewelry box on top and revealing a sparkling tiara. You place it on your head and turn towards the boys. “What do you think?” Dean’s mouth drops open in shock. 
“Where did you get that?” 
“I got to be a princess for a day a long time ago, and they let me keep my crown.” 
“Cool!” Dean jumps back up on the bed. “The princess is mine, Smelly Feet! You can’t have her!” Sam screwed his face up into something that was probably supposed to be mean and scary but just looked adorable to you.
“Noooo! I’ll save you from Captain Gween Toes, Pwincess!” Sam wails Dean with a pillow. Dean pretends to fall on the mattress, holding his side.
“You’ve won this time, Smelly Feet. Remember me, Princess. Bleh.” You giggle at his fake death sound and turn to the 4-year-old standing proudly above his brother.
“You did it, Captain Smelly Feet. You defeated Green Toes and saved me. However, will I repay you?” Sam grins as you pick him up and swing him around. “Oh, I know! How about a kiss?” He squeals when you blow a raspberry against his cheek.
“‘Top! ‘Top!” Sam pushes your face away from his, giggling. 
“Well, I hate to stop all the fun, but we have to go to the store or we’re gonna starve to death.” You gently put Sam down and fall to the floor with your hand on your forehead. “So hungry, not gonna make it.” Dean laughs at your dramatics and whispers something to Sam. Sam nods with a mischievous grin on his face. 
“I’ll save you!” Sam yells, before jumping on top of you. 
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      Sam tugs at your sleeve from the seat in the shopping cart, pulling you down to his level. “Bean likes bacon and eggs and waffles for bweakfast, but Dad never makes them for us. He just buys ceweal because it doesn’t have to be cooked.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes and say something nasty about their father. 
“You know what? I think eggs, bacon, and waffles are great for breakfast.” You right yourself and smile at the small boy. “What do we want for dinner? Dean, what’s something you want?” Dean looks a little startled at your question. Of course, John never asks what the boys want. It’s always a matter of convenience. 
“Can we do burgers?” His eyes light up when you nod your head, and he hugs your waist. “You’re the best.” 
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       Sam sits on the counter, watching you teach Dean how to make burgers. “The first rule of cooking, wash your hands. Did you wash your hands?” 
“Yep, smell.” Dean smiles and holds his hands up to you. You lean in and sniff, the smell of Irish Spring prevalent on his hands. 
“Good job. Sammy, what about you?” Sam smiles and nods his head.
“I helped him,” Dean says proudly. 
“Okay, we’re going to make the sauce before we cook the burgers. I laid everything out for you while you washed your hands. The little cup is mayo and the measuring spoons have sriracha, honey, lemon juice, and garlic in them. Dump all that in and stir it up.” Stepping back, you watch as Dean dumps everything into the glass bowl you had set out before handing Sam the spoon to stir it up. 
“All done!” Sam shouts, tipping the bowl forward for you to inspect their work.
“That’s perfect! You can set that to the side until we finish the rest of it.” You bend down and pull a cast-iron skillet out of the cold oven. “This is your new best friend for cooking, boys. A cast-iron skillet. They’re heavy, and you have to take good care of them, but they will last a long time and give your food good flavor.” 
“And you can hit monsters with it and hurt them!” Dean pipes up, a proud smile on his face. 
“That’s right,” you return his smile, but the fact that he has to know that breaks your heart. Dean hops up onto the counter on your right, and Sam scoots closer on your left to watch. You turn the stove eye on medium-low heat and pour a small amount of oil into the pan. “We have to let the pan and oil heat up before we can start cooking.”  
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      Dean’s eyes are huge as he watches you plate burgers. “They’re beautiful,” he mumbles. 
The boys hop off the counter and help you carry the plates to the table. Sam takes small, careful steps, his little tongue poking out as he concentrates. 
“As much as you love food, Dean, you should be a chef when you grow up.” Dean looks up at you curiously, like the thought had never crossed his mind. It probably hadn’t, all the kid knew was hunting. Damn John. 
“Do you really think I could be a chef?” 
“Of course, I do! You can be anything you want. You’re a smart little boy.” Dean blushes and takes a bite of his burger.
“This is so good! You were right; the fried egg and bacon make it even better than regular burgers!” 
“After we eat, do you guys wanna watch a movie? I have Scooby-Doo.” 
“YES!” The boys both yell excitement, making you laugh.
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      You walk through the house, checking that everything is turned off and locked up. Sam had fallen asleep during their movie, and Dean hadn’t been far behind. You hadn’t wanted to disturb them when they looked so peaceful, so you let them stay in your bed for the night. 
As you make your way back upstairs, you hear glass shattering. “Shit,” you whisper, hurrying to the boys. They’re both still sound asleep. You shake Dean awake and pick Sam up from the bed. “Dean, listen to me, baby. You gotta come with me and be quiet, okay?” He nods, still rubbing at his eyes and trying to wake up. You can hear loud voices and footsteps coming from downstairs. You have to hurry. 
Leading Dean into the spare bedroom you pull a panel away from the wall of the closet. “Dean, go in there.” He follows your orders and you lay Sam down next to him, stroking his hair before you lean over and kiss Dean on the forehead. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”
“Don’t go, Y/N. Hide with us.” Dean’s eyes shine, his little voice trembling. It breaks your heart. 
“Baby, I can’t, that space is too small. Everything’s going to be okay. I love you, Dean and I love Sammy, too. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Dean watches as you close the panel, leaving him and Sam in darkness. He can hear the voices coming from downstairs and each banging footstep sends a shiver through him. “Please be safe. Please be safe.” He whispers to himself over and over, a silent prayer for you. You hadn’t told him to watch out for Sammy, hadn’t ordered him to be brave. You told him how much you loved him and that everything would be okay. A tear slips down Dean’s cheek as he lays down next to Sam and closes his eyes tightly. 
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      “Wanna tell me why you’re in my house?” You swing your arm around the first man you see, holding a knife to his throat. He freezes, calculating his next move. 
He slams all of his weight backward into a wall, knocking the breath out of you but you hang onto the knife. “Stupid bitch,” he spits at you and reaches up to wipe at a trickle of blood on his face. You must have cut him when you hit the wall. You take advantage of him being distracted and launch yourself into him. He stumbles back and falls on his ass, his head bouncing off the floor. You move past him only to be met with a gun to your face. 
“I don’t think so,” a familiar voice says, coming from around the corner. Your stomach drops when yellow eyes meet yours.
“Azazel.” 
“The one and only. It’s been a while, Y/N.” His smile is arrogant, taunting. “Look, I’m sorry about your old man and kid. More so about the kid. I needed her.” You ball your fists at your side, anger rippling through you. “I’m here because a little demon told me you had the Winchester brats.” 
“You’re too late actually. I put them on a bus to Sioux Falls a few hours ago.” You willed yourself to stay calm, to look him in the eyes, and give no indication of a lie. He growls and wraps his hand around your throat. 
“What a pity.” You scream as pain erupts through your body. Blood trickles down the side of your mouth. You defiantly spit in Azazel’s face. 
“Fuck you.”
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       Dean hears your scream and slams his hands against his ears. “No, please no.” Sam rouses and mumbles your name. Dean pulls him into his lap. “Shh, we have to be quiet. Okay, Sammy? It’s going to be okay.” Sam whimpers but nods his head. 
They stay that way for a while, waiting for you to come back for them. Dean silently rocks Sam in his lap, occasionally humming a song to him in the dark crawl space. “You stay here. I’m going to look around.”
“No, Bean, don’t go!” Sam grabs onto Dean’s sleeve. 
“Sammy, stay here. I’ll be back. I swear.” Dean moves the heavy panel and crawls out, the light coming from the window making him squint. He listens at the top of the steps for the voice and footsteps from earlier, but all he hears is silence. The silence scares him more. 
He tiptoes down the stairs, peeking around the corner into the kitchen. You’re there on the floor, not moving. “Y/N?!” Dean shouts and races to you. His hands hover over you, unsure of what to do. “Y/N, please. You promised,” he chokes on the last word, a sob bubbling up. 
“Dean?” You rasp out his name and reach a weak hand up to his face. “It’s okay, baby.” 
“It’s not okay!” He shouts. You guide his head down to lay on your stomach and run your fingers through his hair. 
“You’re gonna grow up and do amazing things, Dean. You are so smart and so good. I love you so much.”  You wince as you try to breathe. Dean can hear how faint your pulse is becoming, how shallow your breaths are. 
“Please, don’t leave me, Y/N. Please,” Dean cries.
“Shh, baby, listen to me. Go in the library, the number for your dad’s motel is there. Call him and then take Sammy to my room and watch Scooby-Doo until he comes. I love you both, Dean so very much. Now go.” He crawls up and kisses your cheek. 
“We love you, too.” He does as he’s told, trying his best to get himself together. 
He dials the number you had written down in a notebook on your desk.
“Hello?”
“Dad? Something’s happened.”
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Tags: @fictionalabyss, @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers, @hobby27
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gordvendomewhore · 4 years
Text
can the preps cook?
what’s up losers
i haven’t made a headcanon post in what feels like forever but lately my wifi has been sucking DICK so i pumped this shit out and whoop now we have a post
this isn’t as lengthy as my preps in quarantine post but i’m still putting a whole “keep reading” thingy
this post is pretty plain and nothing real special, but i hope you enjoy anyway
(i say this everytime but these are based on my fanon interpretations of them!! canonically, none of the preps would know how to cook or even how to cut an apple, so take this with a grain of salt LMAO)
derby:
he can’t, and he won’t.
he has servants cook for him 24/7 so like,,,, what’s even the point of cooking for himself LMAOOO
if derby tried to cook, he wouldn’t burn down the kitchen or anything like that, but he wouldn’t make anything half decent and would then blame everyone around him for his own depressing failure
so it’s best to just,,, not let him into the kitchen at all
more for the other preps’ sake than his
3/10. he would have a better score if he weren’t such a bitch. 
bif:
eh, he’s not bad
he certainly doesn’t cook for fun because “what’s fun about doing poor people activities,” but he knows how to do the basics
if he has someone helping him, he can do more intermediate dishes but again, he doesn’t cook for fun
bif only cooks when he or another prep are hungry and he has absolutely nothing better to do
he doesn’t like cooking big family dishes for things like breakfast or dinner, but he’s not completely opposed to it
5/10, he’s mediocre but not horrible
gord:
gord cannot cook. gord cannot cook. do NOT let him in the kitchen.
he likes to brag that he can do everything and anything, including cooking, but that's only ever resulted in the fire department coming to the academy and crabblesnitch getting a few wads of hush money
but while gord does burn water, he is EXCELLENT at plating dishes and he KNOWS what looks good
honestly his cheese platters are a gift from the GODS
1/10 for cooking, but a solid 11/10 for presentation
parker:
he can’t cook, but he’s not completely useless
parker is what i’ll call a “backseat cooker”
like a backseat driver except in the kitchen
he knows his seasonings, kitchenware, and recipes quite well, but he’s just horrible at actually,,,, putting it all together and making something
so he just hands you your tools and ingredients when you need it and advises you on what to do
he’s very cute kitchen help, and probably wears one of those aprons that says “kiss the cook”
he and bif are a pretty good pair in the kitchen
6.5/10, knows what he’s doing but can’t actually do it. his cuteness makes up for it though.
tad:
tad is a baker. not a cooker.
he’s excellent at baking, and it’s a hobby of his he genuinely likes and enjoys (even though it’s not the stereotypical rich activity)
however that doesn’t mean he magically knows how to cook
like bif, tad knows the basics because being a baker means that he knows his way around the kitchen
but overall he avoids cooking as much as he can (which is easy because surprise surprise! he’s fucking rich and servants cook for him)
tbh cooking probably scares him
“if i wanted oil to pop at me i’d go start a spat with the greasers.”
4/10 for cooking, but a good 8/10 for baking!
justin:
only knows how to make egg dishes.
that’s it.
his knowledge ranges from scrambled eggs to avgolemono and everything in between
if you asked justin to fry a fish, he would curse you and your feeble bloodline and probably finish you off by spitting in your mouth
justin doesn’t cook for fun, and only when someone else asks him to
(but that isn’t very often since the preps get sick of eating eggs 24/7)
(tbh they probably gave justin an intervention about this)
10/10 egg skills but 0/10 overall because he literally CANNOT make anything else
chad:
hey, look what we have! someone who can actually cook!!
i have always PREACHED that chad is a completionist and has TONS of hobbies so of course he cooks!
he’s the only prep that cooks for fun, but he never really cooks to,,, eat yknow??
chad is more into cooking really intricate dishes that look expensive enough to be in a food magazine; basically he cooks for the “glamour” of it
he never really eats his own food, he only ever tastes a lil to see if it’s up to his standard
he just gives his cooking to the other preps and is HELLA smug if they like what he made
chad and gord are a good pair in the kitchen, since chad can make fancy food that gord makes look even fancier
9/10!! he’s good at what he does and he knows it!!!
(smh cocky bitch)
bryce:
he doesn’t know,,, how to cook
the other preps that can’t cook (like derby and gord) have attempted to learn before but just,,,, can’t.
but bryce on the other hand hasn’t had the chance to learn at ALL
honestly he’s terrified of failure so he just doesn’t try
even though he thinks cooking is genuinely interesting
(pssst your insecurities are showing bryce)
the only times he’s in the kitchen is when he’s watching the other boys cook
(he watches like an excited child 🥺)
1/10. he would be good if he tried, but we all know he won’t.
pinky:
pinky knows how to cook. however pinky does not LIKE cooking
her parents forced her to take cooking lessons in order to be a fit housewife in the future for derby, but yeah uhhh
pinky is a lesbian and refuses to be a ‘50s housewife.
so whenever you put her in the kitchen she PURPOSELY causes complete mayhem and chaos
if the preps don’t want to die within the ashes of the harrington house, pinky stays OUT of the kitchen.
-10847302/10. she’s a demon.
(but her actual cooking is decent and is a solid 7/10)
feel free to tell me if you think i’m wrong lmaoo but thanks for reading!! 
my asks are open and i know that there’s a 5% chance anyone will but whoop send me an ask if you want to
but yes yes, again, i hope you enjoyed reading and i hope you have a nice day <3
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reeesea · 3 years
Text
Something Sweet: Part Nine
~something special~
one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine
pairing: minsung, han jisung/lee minho
warning: mild language, brief depiction of anxiety
words: 3.3k
summary:  3RACHA debuts and they take over the world obviously, and minsung get softer somehow
a/n: literally always shook when I come back and someone has liked one of these chapter. But I’m so thankful to anyone whose read this <3
ao3 link
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The dancing trio’s apartment was cleaned and tidied up more than it probably had been in months. The three roommates had luckily found the time to tackle the figurative ocean that was their floor and the piles of clothes, books and shoes that littered it. All in all it was objectively not a large amount of mass but on the minimal square footage they had it made the already tiny space unbearably claustrophobic.  
The living room screen had been flooded up and placed against the wall for the special occasion, allowing the window above Felix's bed to actually stream in light to the rest of the room. Doing a bit of moving around of the furniture had been tiring but it allowed the space to open up and feel a little less like they were stuck living in a small cave, as Hyunjin had put it. Out of all of them Hyunjin had been very invested in the interior design of the room, while Felix and Minho merely humored him, to get the space clean as quick as they could, despite Hyunjins particularities.  
The evening had found them settled to enjoy their newly tidied space with a watch party of 3RACHA’s scheduled debut stage.  
Knock. Knock. Knock. 
“Jinnie, will you get the door by chance.” Minho yelled from the stove. He was busy trying to cook up their rabokki, since a hungry Felix mentioned his craving for comfort food after his audition that morning. 
Getting up, the lanky blonde wandered to the door. “Hyung, were you expecting anyone?” Without an answer he jiggled the knob of their door to coax the door into opening, not bothering to check the peephole as it was nothing more than a literal hole in the door that they had taped over when they moved in. 
“OH hey Hyun-”  Slam.  
A whole Kim Seungmin was standing on the other side of their door, and to say Hyunjin was unprepared to face his long standing university crush of two years is an understatement. 
“HYUNG!!!”
“Yes Jinnie~” 
“Did you just sl-” Minho’s voice was full of a teasing lilt, Felix’s was just simply confused at the loud door slam.
“WERE YOU GOING TO MENTION YOU INVITED KIM SEUNGMIN OVER TO OURS, OR WAS I JUST MEANT TO HAVE HEART ATTACK AND SPEND THE REST OF THE NIGHT A NERVOUS WRECK” 
“Well I invited him over because we are work husbands, but I also had hoped you would actually talk to the boy you've been anonymously pinning over since freshman year” 
“Don't worry Jinnie Suengmin is so nice! And if you're nervous I'll hold your hand.” Felix did cute grabby hands from the couch.
“Lix that kinda defeats the-”
“Hwang Hyunjin, open the door for our guest before I have to kick your cowardly ass.”
Okay Ow. Hurtful! 
Hyunjin knew he was right though and opened the door to a rather alarmed and confused Seungmin.
“Oh hey Hyunjin I thought that was you, I was afraid I had gotten the wrong apartment number.” His smile was so gentle that Hyunjin’s soul may have left his body. 
“Yeah. Nope, I mean yes this is the right place. Come on in! Sorry about slamming it earlier we have some janky door hinges.” Felix giggled and earned him a death glare from the long haired blondie. 
“Oh no problem! I’ve had to deal with my fair share of goofy doors at SU.” Of course Hyunjin nodded, completely understanding, even if he himself had never lived on Seoul University's campus. 
Hyunjin knew Suengmin had spent time as a resident adviser for the dorms. He also knew that he was a business and photography double major, also his current favorite restaurant, cafe, and book. Also not to mention that he was most obviously spending the summer as Minho’s co-worker. Hyunjin had done his fair share of social media stalking to learn more about the boy he had spent a long ass time pining over, as Felix puts it. It definitely wasn't one of his proudest moments, but he couldn't help but admire Seungmin after meeting him during their first year orientation. 
Opportunities to talk to Seungmin were rare, as their majors did not generally intercept plus Hyunjin’s general fear of speaking to the other. It seems Minho, being the attentive hyung he is, found the perfect opportunity for Hyunjin to actually get to know him. Without telling or mentioning it to the now flustered dancer. Damn him. 
“Glad you could make it Seungmo~” 
“God, I told you not to call me that.” Suengmin delivered his usual sarcastic banter toward the older, Felix laughed to himself, quite enjoying watching the drama unfold in front of him. 
“But of course I cant miss a good watch party.”
Although red in the face and ears glowing red from sitting next to Seungmin on their couch, Hyunijin feels light at the atmosphere around him, and smiles fondly toward them. Felix’s whispered “whipped” resulted in a kick to the shins. Minho brought a pot of noodles, rice cakes, cheese, and other toppings to their coffee table. Felix practically let out an inhuman squeal as he moved to grab some of the steaming noodles. 
“Suen-min does aht mean you like thee Racha?”
“Lix chew your food first you fool.” Felix takes a minute to slurp up and finish chewing before restating his questions, but Seungmin responds readily some how understanding the incoherency of the freckled pixie boy.
“Oh Yeah! Vaguely, one of my old friends from high school is Changbin’s brother. So he practically forced me to listen to all their music whenever they released new tracks. I’m really happy for them, but can't say I know much about them as a group other than recognizing a few songs'' 
“Really? That's so cool, I didn't know he had a brother.” 
“We literally met him Felix.” Hyunjin can't help but tease the other for his starstruck state when they first met 3RACHA. 
“He was too distracted by Chan’s smile and Changbin’s biceps to remember that.” Minho smirked.
“Shut it Hyung!” Felix threw a pillow at the older, sending the rest of them into a fit of giggles. 
“You can’t say anything Min-hyung, you're literally Jisung’s boyfriend.”
“I knew it!” Seungmin shouted accusingly. 
“STOP, No god he is not my boyfriend.” 
“Last Friday suggests differently~” Felix ever so casually mentions with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. Seungmin’s eyebrows were raised at his hyung.
“Yeah hyung, you practically never let go of his hand all night.” Hyunjin smirked at his hyung, taking some form of embarrassment revenge on the older.
“Oh my god your kidding! Hyunjinnie you have to tell me everything.” And of course being the whipped man he was, he did, much to Minho’s despair, gladly fueling the other with material to tease thier hyung.
---
“Okay! Everyone! Shut up! ITS STARTING!!!” Even though no one was speaking they all unanimously agreed to comply with Felix’s outburst. The screen showed the hosts speaking from cue cards before a heavy back track flooded the speakers of their small TV. 3RACHA flashed across the screen as did the members' concept images. Felix had already squealed over them earlier in the week when they were posted on instagram (Minho did too but in his room privately). Still the images hit differently as they were broadcasted on television for the whole country and world to see. 
CB97… SpearB… J.One…
Their photos completely embodied their personas and it sent a chill down Minho’s spine in anticipation. The whole world was about to witness the electricity that was 3RACHA performing. 
The scene transitioned into a red lit stage and the three rappers standing in the center of it. The crowd's cheers faded as the beat entered. Heavy bass hitting an addicting rhythm that anyone listening could feel in every part of their chest. And of course because Minho was an unlucky bastard, and Jisung’s rap was first. 
The round cheeked boy with an innocent glint to his eyes and a heart shaped gummy smile was instead replaced with some monster of a man on stage. He hadn't seen them perform since him and Jisung had first met at the Sweet Lotus, and all the memories of J.One and his charismatic flow took over his senses immediately. J.One was on stage in front of him, using every once of his dangerously charming voice to bring in every single viewer’s attention. He uses his tone playfully and masterfully (just to play with his heart apparently, Minho thinks). It wasn't until Jisung ends his verse with a practically growled “zone”, and Chan takes over for the chorus, that Minho realizes he hadn’t been breathing. 
Not that CB97 or SpearB’s verse were going to give him any form of a break either. Chan’s part practically demanded your full attention, practically commanding the viewer to a call to action. Changbins part came in gently but built up to a point where his tone and verse exploded. Booming syllabus matching the booming 808s. The electricity was undeniable. The stage finished all of their voices joining in aggressively and with finality.
 A lone spotlight shone down on them revealing their intense and confident images. Ending fairies full of smirks and cocked eyebrows that left the audience screaming and cheering. 
“Holy shit.” Felix was the first to say anything, but even so they were all left speechless. After their performance of “Zone” no one could deny that they were something big. And Minho had absolutely no doubt in his mind that their three local rapper friends were about to take over the world. The screams from the TV and the cheers after each of their additional songs only solidified it. 
----
“3RACHA WORLD DOMINATION.”
Of course Minho was right, he always was, Jisung definitely knew that by now. But the headlines and the chart topping was all so new and overwhelming to the members it was hard to believe. 3RACHA had exploded practically overnight. Their debut stage had gone viral and hadn't left its place on trending pages in more than a few countries. 
Every day the 3RACHA boys had woken up to more insane news of their accomplishment. Their days are full of constant promo and show recordings for later broadcasts. Sana practically lived in their loft for the week. Their manager’s hours were somehow even longer than theirs and most hours where she was able to sleep it would be on the infamous couch.  
[Lee Minho hyungie]
2:45 pm
We watched your new performance last night!
You guys did amazing
I dont think I’ll ever get tired of listening to the album…
Of course the hectic week of 3RACHA’s debut and all of their new accolades were overwhelming, but Minho’s compliments seem to make Jisung’s heart stutter the most. He would never admit that he had been re-reading all of Minho's messages all week. Their correspondence was lacking due to mainly Jisung’s busy schedule, but the older had kept steady in his messages even if Jisung was largely unable to answer. Minho understood and instead would always send him motivational and supportive statements or goofy selfies of him in various fruit filters, never failing to give Jisung his smile back. 
The week had passed since their debut and Jisung couldn't help but feel light. The three of them had managed to nab some free/rest time for their weekend. Chan was thankfully already taking advantage of it, and had been knocked out asleep in his room since the morning. Changbin was spending some extra time in the complex’s gym, and Sana had finally been given the opportunity to go back to her own apartment to crash. He was so thankful for the small hardworking team he had found himself in. Jisung wanted to make the most of his time as well, and left their apartment for one of his impromptu strolls around the city. Jisung felt light.
----
Minho had taken an earlier shift, trading the weekend dinner wave for the never ending brunch crowd. Thankfully he had gathered a large stack of tips from the rich women tipsy enough from mimosas to slip him a few more percentage points into his pocket. His feet felt heavy from having to stand so long but thankfully he was able to stumble into an empty living room and relax, while the sun still sat comfortably in the sky, basking the room in a warm afternoon light. 
Minho was unwinding peacefully after enjoying his post work shower when his phone rang loudly next to him on the couch. 
[Jisungie is calling]
Jisung never calls him. Worry starts to nip at his insides as he moves to answer the call. 
“Jisung? Hey what's going on?” 
He can’t hear much on the other end but the sound of labored breathing signals that there was a living breathing boy on the other side of the line. 
“Did you mean to call me Sungie?”
“Ye-yes I did. I just needed to call…”Jisung’s voice trailed off, and Minho could hear the boy’s soft hiccups. Worry now rightfully settling to the base of his stomach. He approached the boy on the line gently. 
“Of course, did you need anything?” Jisung took a moment before answering.
“Hyung, I’m scared. There were so many of them outside, and I thought they didn't recognize me at first, but then they started calling my name and kept following me, and I got lost. I think I’m near your place, but i don't want them to find you and I don't wanna go back home. Channie would be so worried an-”
“Hey, hey it's okay baby. Just take a deep breath for me, yeah?” Minho couldn't help but let his protective instinct take over. Jisung was so fragile when he was scared, there isn't anything Minho would do to help him. Jsung was taking steady breaths in and out, and slowly they became more regular. The younger wasn’t crying but Minho didn’t want the other to get anywhere near that state still lost in the city.
“Can you tell me where you are Sung?”
“I-I’m in a convenience store, it's on a corner. I-i think there's a cafe across the street. I think I lost most of them but i'm afraid that there are more.” Minho was already slipping his shoes bringing an extra jacket with him, recognizing the store location. Jisung must mean that the reporters and more aggressive photographers had already tracked down the boys’ location. He lets his angry words for them die in his mouth, opting for a gentler response.
“That's good Sungie, I’m on the way it'll only be a few minutes. Do you want me to stay on the line?”
“Yes please.”
He sounded so small and afraid. It broke Minho’s heart “Okay baby, you wouldn't believe what happened at work today? Wanna hear about that?”
Minho heard something like an affirmative hum from the other side of the line. He kept the one-sided conversation steady so there was never silence. Talking about how Suengmin had somehow been stuck on server duty, and all of his unfortunate run-ins that come from a morning brunch shift. It was easy to keep the conversation light and the focus away from the stress or fear Jisung might be feeling. Minho keeps talking even as he is walking into the convenience store a few blocks from his apartment. 
He finds a startled Jisung practically crouching in on himself in the chip aisle. When Jisung’s eyes finally find him they are wide and stared with the beginnings of tears. Hanging up he holds out his arm, welcoming the other to come closer to him. 
“Hey there stranger, you can come to mine for tonight. That sound okay?” Jisung nods gladly and accepts the jacket Minho handed him, allowing for his obnoxiously orange shirt to be covered into something more inconspicuous. Huddling the sweet boy into his arms, Minho collects their favorite snacks from the shelves and a few ramen packs, and leads them out onto the street, and back to his apartment. The sun setting on the city and the night life awakening, they easily got lost in the crowd.
---
By the time Minho had allowed the worry to die down in his chest, Jisung was curled up in his small bed engulfed in a comforter. Minho had texted an extremely worried Chan about Jisung’s run in with the paparazzi. Jisung had spent a majority of the night not letting go of Minho’s arm, hand, side for even a moment. He remained relatively quiet the rest of the night but Minho was able to pull a few giggles out of the younger. 
Initially Minho was apprehensive about allowing Jisung into their tiny home, but as soon as the boy was in need, Minho’s reservations disappeared. As soon as they walk through the door, Jisungs shoulders relax. 
---
Jisung looked around at the small living room taking in the small bed in the corner and couch, the TV had been left on some mindless program when Minho had rushed to retrieve Jisung. The warm orange light from the setting sun filled the room, adn despite the cramped space and the boys’ overabundance of belongings, Jisung felt warm and at ease. The homey feeling of the apartment was something that he hadn't realized was foreign to him. Sure Jisung felt he had a rather close relationship with his bed back at the loft, but the environment of their place didn't quite compare to the very lived-in apartment he found himself in. 3RACHA had done thier fair share of moving around much to the will of Changbin or his parents, Jisung never minded it though, he was too thankful for their generosity. 
“I like your place Minho-hyung” It was the first time he had spoken since they arrived. Minho flashed him a relieved smile.
“My home is your home now then. Well mine and the other two mongrels' home is yours now too, but they're working late tonight so you're stuck with just me '' Jisung smiled. Minho couldn't help his heart from tugging. 
---
They had spent the night with instant ramen and an over abundance of snacks as they watched videos in Minho’s bed. Jisung fell asleep early, exhausted from his earlier tears and general low energy from the busy week’s drain. Minho moved to make sure Jisung was comfortable, before moving to get washed up for the night. He felt a small fist grab his shirt as he got up. 
“Where are you going?” Jisung had his wide puppy eyes on full display, apparently not asleep at all. 
“Just to wash up Sungie.”
“Will you come back to sleep with me after?” In any other situation the words may have seemed provocative, but with Jisungs sleepy gaze it was only endearing to Minho. Not like Minho would deny him a night in his arms anyway. 
“Of course baby, i'll be right back okay” Jisung let go of his shirt accepting his answer. Minho wasn’t a fool and could feel his heartbeat quicken with being so near to Jisung, but more than anything all he wanted to do was allow the younger to sleep in his arms as comfortably as possible. As soon as Minho rejoined the bed, Jisung had already moved to burrow his head into Minho's chest. If Minho could be even more endeared at the cuddly nature of Jisung, he was fully at the will of him now. 
He was a goner, but that wasn’t news to Minho when it came to his affection for the boy in his arms. Wrapping his arms around the younger's tiny waist he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. 
“Goodnight Jisung” 
I’ll always protect you.
---
one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine
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nokomiss · 4 years
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deadtedkord replied to your post “taking prompts!”
more excellent jaysteph bonding please you're stuff for them is amazing!!
Even in Gotham, it’s hard to get takeout at 4am.  
So after a particularly grueling night fighting crime -- not Arkham-escape bad, but involving the Condiment King teaming up with Mad Hatter for easily one of the grossest in every imaginable way nights Steph could remember -- the troops all ended up at the Cave, fighting over who got into the showers first. The troops in question being Bruce, Damian, Tim, Jason and herself. Steph saw the writing on the wall immediately and booked it up stairs to shower in luxury before Bruce could complain about ketchup in his fancypants rich people showers.
After convincing herself that she couldn’t, actually, just live in the bathroom at Wayne Manor for the rest of her life, Steph reluctantly got out, wondering if she could convince Bruce that installing the same shower at her decidedly less luxurious home was actually a necessary crime fighting expense. The water pressure alone had relieved a few lingering muscle aches she’d been nursing a few days.  
She ransacked various rooms for a new, mustard-free outfit -- she had clothes stashed away somewhere, but everyone knew other people’s clothes are far superior, especially when they were Selina’s yoga pants, which she was never returning because damn they were amazing, Cass’ fuzzy socks and Tim’s softest hoodie.
By the time she returned to the cave, smelling like coconut and feeling like a champ, the boys had managed to clean themselves up and were bickering about food.
“I got Stromboli’s to deliver at 3 last week,” Damian was insisting, even though the Batcomputer clearly showed that they were closed.
“Maybe we could bribe someone at Batburger? They’re open all night,” Tim suggested, sounding doubtful about the prospect.
“There’s food here,” Steph suggested, because she, too, was starving.
Silence for a moment, then Bruce said, in a voice that almost sounded sheepish, “Alfred isn’t here.”
Steph felt a little bad about the smears of ketchup she’d undoubtedly left in the bathroom. “Did he… did he take the kitchen with him?”
“Pennyworth is the only one permitted to use the kitchen,” Damian said loftily while also not looking at anyone directly.
“Yeah, but… we’re hungry,” Steph pointed out.
“They don’t know how to cook,” Tim said, gesturing towards Bruce and Damian. “They’re really bad at it.”
“Like you’re any better,” Damian snapped. “Remember when you set the microwave on fire?”
“I didn’t realize there was still a spoon in the bowl!” The tops of Tim’s ears were turning bright red.
Steph looked at the only person in the room not howling about their own ineptitude in the kitchen. “Please tell me you’re not as useless as they are.”
“I’m insulted that you would think I am,” Jason replied. “I certainly didn’t grow up with a butler.”
Steph sighed, and said, “Wanna go make some food?”
Jason looked at the other three, who were suddenly very focused on writing the night’s mission report. “If it means we’re done with the paperwork, yeah.”
So she climbed the steps to up to the manor for the second time that night, and when she entered the kitchen she suddenly understood the silence and sheepish looks.
“I have seen active crime scenes less disastrous than this kitchen,” Jason said with an awed tone.
“How long has Alfred been gone? A year?” Steph said, staring. “And the question is, is he ever gonna return if he knows this is waiting on him?”
 “Probably he will, but he’ll finally snap and murder them all in a dishes-fueled rage,” Jason said, poking at the mountain of dirty china piled haphazardly in and around the sink.  He poked at a dish. “I’m pretty sure someone ate Spaghetti-Os out of fine china. Is this a real silver spoon?”
The spoon in question had curdled milk clinging to it.
“Okay so ten minutes ago, I would have told you there was no way anything could be grosser than Mad Hatter flopping around in a pool of mayonnaise,” Steph said, “but oh, how I have been proven wrong.”
“How do they even function as human beings?” Jason wondered. “Was it always this bad? I mean, I lived here. I know Bruce is an absolute moron in the kitchen. But…”  He looked around. “Wow.”
“Do you suddenly feel so much better about yourself as a person?” Steph said. “Because I gotta say. Really feeling good about myself right now.”
Jason offered a hand to high five, and Steph did, happily. They rummaged through the pantry side-by-side and found that the staples were still intact, though anything ready-made had been ransacked.  The fridge offered up similar bounty -- takeout leftovers of questionable providence, some wilting produce, and basics.  
“Pancakes?” Steph suggested once she saw the state of the waffle iron -- had someone tried to make a grilled cheese on it? -- and pulled out the dry ingredients. “I’m not willing to eat anything that requires a condiment right now.”  Thankfully maple syrup had not been one of Condiment King’s weapons of choice.
“I’ll make eggs,” Jason said, pulling out a carton. “And there’s some fake bacon of Damian’s.”
“We are a breakfast-making machine,” Steph said. It was true, too -- away from the chaos of crime fighting, she found that working alongside Jason in the kitchen was surprisingly easy. Steph stared at the sink again, and said, “I think that it’s time that certain vigilantes learned the domestic arts.”
“Yeah, we can’t let Alfred come back to this,” Jason said. “He’s too valuable. If he quit--”
“We’d never have his cookies ever again,” Steph said in horror. 
“Maybe we could steal Alfred,” Jason said after a pause. “Like, let nature take its course, then swoop in and take Alfred for our own.”
“Share custody of him,” Steph said, nodding. “We could put him on a rotating schedule, and give him days off, and… I don’t know. Let him join a book club, instead of spending all his time with these disasters.”
They spent a few moments in quiet contemplation of a life where Alfred showed up and made creme brulee at any hour of the day.  Then Steph sighed, giving the pancake batter one last stir before letting it sit and moving to the stove, clearing off several crystal goblets with what looked like coffee dregs in them before finding a griddle.  “There’s only one flaw with our plan.”
“The thing where Alfred loves Bruce like a son and would never abandon him to die alone and hungry in his filthy mansion?” Jason flipped the fake bacon.
“That’s the one,” Steph said, deciding the griddle was hot enough and spooning pancake batter onto it in cute little shapes. She thought that Damian’s should be hearts, and she experimented with bat-shapes for Bruce. 
Jason peered over and saw what she was doing. “I want stars.”
“Of course you do,” Steph said, though she tried to make one as soon as Damian’s hearts were done. It turned out a little wonky, but still recognizable. She was awesome. “Gotta be difficult, right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason replied, cracking eggs into a bowl.  He glanced at the kitchen door. “Are they hiding in the cave in shame?”
“Like, it’s wrong, but the fact that I think they are makes me really happy,” Steph said. “Like, kind of makes up for all those times they acted like I was a moron for not knowing something.”
“Right?” Jason said. 
“I mean, how do you master dozens of different kinds of kung fu, but never once master the grilled cheese? I was making my own grilled cheese in kindergarten!”
“There are only three ingredients,” Jason agreed. “It’s a true embarrassment.”
“We should nominate him for Worst Cooks In America,” Steph said. “I really want to see Bruce on reality television, and that would be comedy gold.”
“Just seeing him get an invitation to be one of the worst of anything would be fucking amazing,” Jason said. “Like, congratulations, sir, you suck at this.”
“You suck so hard we want to feature you on television,” Steph snickered.  She flipped the last of Bruce’s pancakes onto a plate before they burned, and began making Tim’s. She tried to make a coffee mug shape, but it turned out looking like a blob, so she made teddy bears instead.  
“I mean, I kind of get why they’re so terrible at it,” Steph said, “given their upbringings. But I would have literally starved if I hadn’t figured out how to cook early on. Takeout was not an option.”
“Right? Only for special occasions,” Jason said. “The rest of the time, you had to make shit yourself.”
“Exactly,” Steph nodded. They didn’t really talk much about how they were the ones in the family who’d grown up poor, who’d spent a lot of time raising themselves because their parents hadn’t been capable of it. She knew it was why Bruce had compared them so much -- there was a startling amount of similarities between their childhoods, from their mothers’ drug problems to their fathers’ criminal inclinations -- and for once, it felt nice to be the ones with the necessary skills while everyone else floundered. 
They grinned at each other, then put the last of the food onto the plates.  Steph grabbed the maple syrup, and stopped short, staring at the calendar on the fridge. “Four days!”
“What?” Jason said through a mouthful of fake bacon.
“Alfred has only been gone four days,” Steph said, pointing to the note on the fridge, “and he left prepared meals.”  
They gazed in wonder at the chaos around them. 
“He’s going to be back tomorrow,” Jason said suddenly, pointing.  
“Okay, so we feed the troops, then we start Mission: Learn to Do the Damn Dishes,” Steph said. Sleep was for the weak. 
“Yes, ma’am,” Jason said, and followed her to the breakfast nook, setting down Tim and Damian’s plates and going back for the rest. “Wanna tell them now?”
“Let them have a final meal first,” Steph said. “Then we’ll light a fire under them.”
Jason grinned. By the time Bruce, Tim and Damian came out of the Cave, she and Jason had polished off half of their meal, and Steph had to admit that delivering a lecture to Batman about chores was one of the highlights of her week.  Possibly the entire month.
It took until dawn, but Alfred came home to a kitchen that no longer looked like it had witnessed the collapse of civilization.
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thecandywrites · 4 years
Text
Of Heaven and Fire Part 4
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SO. I would officially like to apologize for this part because ANGST because I am a big meanie. But I SWEAR, it’s gonna be ok...eventually. This is gonna have a happy ending, I promise, but the plot- much like a strong wave of the sea, took out my knees and ankles and sent me into a faceplant. And like in Liar Liar when Jim Carey is in the bathroom beating himself up. And is going OW OW OW. That was me, writing this. and that’s probably going to be you reading this. Oh also you know that vine of a guy scaring this boy who looks like he’s like- 9 and he screams like a little girl and then stares death at the person who scared him? just remember that scream for halfway through this chapter. That was my inspiration. 
In case you missed it- Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 
Tagging @probablyclever​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ and @imherefortheforthefanart​ Enjoy. 
You changed your outfit and folded the blanket up and returned it to Brock’s room but he was gone. You knocked on Cugas’ door but he wasn’t there and when you peeked onto the deck, only the night crew were there finishing up their shift as the sun rose over the horizon. 
“Wow, you’re an early riser miss.” Cygla, the night captain, noted as he saw you peek your head up. 
“I am.” You smiled as you came up on deck, your moura cloak turning into a fur coat to keep out the chill in the air as you looked up and noticed the clouds. 
“Oh no,” you groaned in realization as you recognized the cloud formation and even now you coud see certain beings gearing up for something big. 
“Aye, there be a storm brewin’.” He agreed. 
“Yeah, a storm.” You huffed a laugh as you just shook your head. 
“Do you know where the captain is?” You asked him. 
“Probably having breakfast.” He mused. 
You nodded and walked down below deck and walked to the galley where the chef was making both breakfast for the day crew and dinner for the night crew. 
“Goodmorning Miss Yana,” the cook Ms. Avag, Cygla’s wife greeted you cheerfully. 
“Good morning, have you seen the captain?” You asked. 
“Not yet, ya hungry? I got honey cakes today.” She noted as she gestured to a stack of pancakes sweetened with honey. 
“Yeah, I’ll take one,” you nodded before she got a bowl and put one in there with an extra drizzle of honey and a piece of fried steak with some scrambled eggs before she sent you on your way as you carefully walked through the ship- looking for either Cugas or Brock as the day crew were still sleeping as you searched but didn’t see anyone before you felt a pull on your waist and looked down to see the belt pulling you towards the stairs again and decided to follow where it led you.
You found yourself at the stairs to the bottom of the ship where a huge tank of water sat where they would keep the fish once they caught them as Brock was explaining last night’s events to Cugas who was laughing hysterically as Brock was just a flustered mess. 
“You’re not helping!” Brock complained as Cugas wiped the tears from his eyes and stood up straight from being bent over. 
“The woman of your dreams healed you and then slept with you half naked, you’re the only straight man on the planet who would think that’s a problem.” Cugas chuckled as he held his gut. 
“She still hates me though and she’s getting suspicious and I...I don’t know what to do.” Brock complained. 
“Well I mean you took a step in the right direction, you made her a space of her own and took off that barbaric chain, which frankly, I’m still appalled you kept it on her even when she showed you her true self.” Cugas pointed out. 
“I know, I know, I didn’t...I just didn’t realize it or think about it until I saw it.” Brock groaned. 
“Then why the fuck is the shackle still on her?!” Cugas demanded. 
“Because she’ll fly away, I can’t lose her yet.” Brock defended as Cugas groaned in aggravation. 
“Brock, she’s already gone. Her body is here, but her soul and spirit stayed on that mountain. She has rage like a wildfire simmering just underneath her sweet exterior and the only way she’s going to calm that and the only way she’s going to really be here- is if she’s free to choose to be so. There isn’t a room or even a palace big enough that you could build for her that she won’t feel like it’s a cage and she will fight you until she draws her last breath. The fact that we’re sailing to the black waters just so she can try to talk to some water dragons- which is still all kinds of stupid dangerous which she’s putting her life in the line for- just to be free- no one should have to do that. Now that we know what we’re dealing with now we go about fishing so that we won’t ice the boats anymore. In my book- just her figuring that out would be enough to earn her freedom. This is just ridiculous, call this off, free her.” Cugas insisted. 
“No,” Brock argued. 
“And it’s your stubbornness that will lose her for good. It’s a matter of time before her brethren come for her. And when they do, they’ll ask for more than any or all of us are willing to pay and when she leaves, none of us will see her or her kind again. And what would it solve?” Cugas asked. 
“That’s not your problem to fix.” Brock growled. 
“Yeah it will be because when her brethren come for her- it’s your head they’ll ask for and who would you rather lead the clan? Me or your brother Acosh? Who’s still only 11?” Cugas asked. 
“It’s not going to come to that.” Brock insisted. 
“Wanna bet?” Cugas asked just as someone came up behind you and scared the shit out of you, making you scream and jump up and cling to the ceiling just as Brock and Cugas came running up the stairs to see you laughing as you still clung to the ceiling, your wings sprouted from your back, covering your body as your hands and feet became clawed to hang onto the rafters as the poor crewman was knocked a good 20 feet away by your protruding wings as you crawled on the ceiling towards him, asking him if he was ok as he was laughing himself. 
“Are you ok?” You asked him. 
“Yeah, I’m ok, lessoned learned, never sneak up on a moura.” He chuckled as he found his feet as Brock and Cugas got up the stairs and stared at him before they looked up and saw you clinging to the ceiling with your wings out. 
“What happened?” Cugas asked. 
“I was looking for you and just as I found you- he startled me and it must have triggered my angel reflex.” You answered as you tried to get down but it was like you were glued to the ceiling and once you let go, you stayed up there. 
“Well, fuck.” You chuckled as you tried to push off the ceiling to the floor but it was like you were a balloon filled with helium and you bobbed right back up. 
“OK so talk to me- explain what’s going on so we can figure out how to help.” Cugas invited as you tried to figure out how to get down. 
“My angel reflex kicked in, heavenly moura have an ability to turn off gravity’s hold on them and become lighter than the surface air, that’s why they can walk on the clouds like you would walk on the grass. Only heavenly moura are in this reflex all the time and why and how they can stay in the heavens and fly so effortlessly. And up until now, it was believed that mountain moura lost this reflex because we’re half breeds not full bloods. But the problem is- I’ve never experienced this reflex before so I don’t know how to turn it off.” You explained as you struggled against the ceiling like your body was trying to pull through the wood itself and it was incredibly exhausting fighting against it before you had to stop struggling and rest for a bit because the longer you were in this reflex, the stronger the pull became. 
“By the way captain, a storm is brewing out of nowhere.” The crewman informed Cugas. 
“It’s not out of nowhere.” You argued. “It’s a heavenly moura holiday, last night was the beginning of the fourth lunar month, that means every heavenly moura will be coming for the celebration and how they celebrate is they like to fly in a cyclone, problem is- with billions of heavenly moura, flying in a big circle causes hurricanes for those on the surface. If we had left a couple of weeks ago, we’d be back home by now and be out of danger.” You insisted with a look to Brock. 
“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Brock demanded. 
“Because I forgot all about it until I saw it this morning when I was looking for you on the top deck, the hurricanes get downgraded to storms by the time they reach the mountains and the mountain mouras need the rain.” You explained as you felt yourself grow hot with anger as your body started to glow before you heard a singe as you looked and noticed your form singed the wood before you tried to roll over and at least get on your hands and knees so you could crawl on the ceiling as your wings seemed to want to be glued to the ceiling and rafters around you. 
“Fuck these wings are heavy.” You cursed as you struggled to move just a couple of feet before you just collapsed and your face was smooshed against the ceiling, even your hair was splayed out around you like you were laying on the floor. 
“Oof,” you exclaimed as you just laid there. So much for saving some reserves.
“We’ll deal with it when it comes, right now, we need to focus on getting you off the ceiling.” Cugas insisted to keep Brock from arguing further before you got an idea. 
“Brock- get the chain.” You told him. 
“Why?” Brock asked. 
“Just get it, I have an idea.” You urged him before Cugas pushed him towards the stairs. 
“Well go! Do you have to be told twice?” Cugas urged him before he barked orders at the crewman to get him a ladder and once he got the ladder, he told the crewman to tell the first mate his orders while he dealt with this. 
“Ok, so what’s your idea?” Cugas asked as he stood on top of the ladder and got as close as he could get, so that he could reach you and he tried going down the ladder but the force pulling you to the cieling was stronger than his own weight and strength and he didn’t want to hurt your delicate wrists or hands. 
“Well I was going to wait until we got to the black waters to reveal this but if it will get me off the ceiling now, it’s what I’ll do, so, my dad, he’s not entirely human, his mother, my other grandmother- is a siren. I’ve only changed into a siren form once when I was little but if it’ll reset my body by changing form, it’ll turn this off.” You explained as you managed to roll over again, your wings spreading out over the ceiling as you just laid there and waited for Brock to return. 
“So what’s the chain gonna do?” Cugas asked. 
“Luckily the cuff is now my belt, attach the chain, use to pull me down and drag me to the tank for the fish, pull me down enough that you can put a net over me and then, tie an anchor to me or some kind of heavy weight and basically- drown me, my body should change before I die.” You explained. 
“No, absolutely not.” Cugas immediately shook his head no. “There has to be another way.” He insisted. 
“Look, with my other abilities I have a measure of control over them, but this- I don’t. I didn’t even know I had this. It’s the only thing I can think of.” You explained as he sat on top of the ladder as he waited for Brock to get back. 
“Thank you by the way.” You said softly after a moment. 
“For what?” Cugas asked. 
“For fighting for me. I got to hear a little bit of your conversation with Brock, thank you for trying to get him to free me.” You thanked him. 
“You’re welcome, seeing you chained is...well it’s just plain wrong. And every time I look at that thing I get sick and panicky, like it’s on me too.” Cugas explained with a hateful look at the silver belt as you grinned knowingly. All mouras hated enslavement with a passion and were incredibly empathetic. You mused his moura genes were incredibly strong, why else would he love the freedom of the open ocean? 
“By the way do you even know what it is?” You asked curiously before Cugas huffed and breathed in and before he could speak Brock came down the stairs with the chain in hand. 
“Oh good, we got a ladder.” Brock noted in relief before he started to climb it before he reattached the chain, standing on the ladder to do so. 
“Are you going to ask her what her idea is?” Cugas prodded. 
“She’s a moura, mouras are very intelligent, I’m sure it’s a good one.” Brock answered as your heart melted- just a tiny bit before Cugas barked a scornful laugh. 
“Ha! No, Yana, tell Brock your plan, Brock- for the love of all that holy- actually listen to it.” Cugas implored. 
“So what’s your idea?” Brock asked. 
“Ok, so, my dad isn’t entirely human, his mom is a siren, so if you can drag me to the holding tank for the fish and manage to pull me into the water by attaching this chain to something really heavy, I should change and it should turn this angel reflex off.” You explained. 
“That’s an awesome idea, why do you hate it?” Brock asked Cugas who just gave you a meaningful look. 
“How many years has it been since you changed into a siren form?” Cugas asked you. 
“Oh only a few,” You answered dissmissively before you bit your lips anxiously as you wouldn’t look either of them in the eye. 
“How many years exactly?” Cugas pressed. 
“Eleven.” You answered a little sheepishly. 
“So you were seven.” Cugas pointed out. 
“And a half.” You argued. 
“What were the circumstances of your changing?” Cugas pressed. 
“Well, uh, we were swimming in the lake.” You answered vaguely. 
“Really? You touch water and magically you turn into a siren?” Cugas questioned. “Well... not exactly.” You answered. “Look, we’re wasting time, just drag me to the tank and I’ll change it’s as simple as that.” You insisted. 
“No, no it’s not, tell Brock exactly what he has to do to get you to change because I sure as hell ain’t doing it.” Cugas insisted. 
“What do I have to do?” Brock asked. 
“You have to tie me to something heavy and basically...try to drown me.” You finally confessed as Brock’s eyes got wide before he looked at Cugas who was giving him the most emphatic shake of his head ‘no’ and a dangerous look. “Uh, so tell me exactly what happened that you turned when you were seven and a half.” Brock insisted before he sat on the other step. 
“Ok so- funny story- my siblings and myself were swimming in the lake and I got too deep and I wasn’t that good of a swimmer and everyone else was distracted and I started to drown but before I died, I changed and suddenly I was able to breathe water and I had a tail and everything and I scared the literal shit out of my big brother when I swam up to him and grabbed his leg, I had never heard a boy scream like he did.” You answered with a fond smile at the memory. Indeed your big brother had screamed in an octave you thought he had grown out of. 
“That’s not a funny story, you almost could have died!” Cugas chastized you. 
“How did they get you to change back?” Brock asked curiously. 
“My dad had to come and he walked me through it, I basically had to drown in the air as he held me and coaxed me through it.” You answered. 
“Have you been to the lake since?” Cugas asked. 
“Not really no.” You answered. 
“Can you even swim?” Cugas asked. 
“Well, um…” You stuttered as Cugas dragged his hands down his face and took a calming breath as he clenched and then unclenched his own hands before focusing back on Brock. 
“You hear that? You have to drown her to get her to change, are you gonna drown her or are you going to listen to sense and take off that damn shackle and just let her fly free for the god’s sake and when she figures out how she can turn it off, she figures it out. Period, we still have time, we can sail back to the harbor, we’ll make it before this hurricane hits.” Cugas insisted. 
“Not necessarily-” you argued as Cugas looked at you like you grew five heads. 
“If the fleet stays in the eye, it’ll be ok, the eye shouldn’t move too much.” You assured them. 
“Brock please, it’ll work, we’re so close.” You pleaded and Cugas was about to pull his hair out. 
“Ok,” Brock agreed before he grabbed the chain and tried to pull you off the ceiling with his body weight but it was like he weighed a fifth of his real weight and was nearly to the floor by the time you budged from the ceiling as Cugas growled in frustration. 
“Both of you have lost your goddamn minds!” He complained as he got a board and shimmied it behind your back. 
“You’ll break her spine pulling on her like that.” Cugas groused before Brock stopped and wrapped his hands in his shirt and wrapped the chain around his wrapped hands so it wouldn’t cut his hands up as Cugas climbed back up to the ceiling and put a rope behind the board and tied a net around you and the board so you wouldn’t slip away and pulled too, together both of them managed to pull you off the ceiling. 
“How in the world did you manage to get on your hands and knees with a pull like this?” Cugas asked as he and Brock worked together to pull you down and towards the stairs before the first mate Karsu came down and saw what was going on. 
“What the hell?” Karsu asked. 
“Help us drag her to the pool.” Cugas ordered and the three of them managed to get you down the stairs but the lower they went, the stronger it got. 
“It’s like the pull’s getting stronger.” Cugas noted before Karsu called for help as the night crew that were going to bed came and dragged you over the pool as more ropes were pulled over you as the whole night crew managed to pull you until you were above the water. 
“Are you absolutely sure you can do this?” Cugas questioned. 
“As sure as I’ll ever be,” you answered as you looked around. 
“I need that ballast.” You nodded before Cugas’ men got it. 
“Now drop it in. Who’s a good diver?” You asked before everyone looked at Cugas. 
“He’s the best.” Karsu answered. 
“Oh no, this is as much as I’m gonna help, I’m not going to have a hand in actually drowning you.” Cugas insisted before the men paused and looked at each other before Brock just jumped in and grabbed the ropes and chain and swam with all his might before he tied it around the ballast before he had to swim back up to the surface before he ran out of breath, leaving you only a foot under the surface. 
“You fucking piece of shit! I can’t believe you did that!” Cugas yelled at Brock as he punched Brock in the face. “She’s supposed to be the love of your life and you’re killing her! You don’t fucking deserve her!” Cugas spat before he grabbed a knife off of one of his men and dived in, cutting all the ropes just as your wings started to flail in the water, the water itself starting to boil and steam from your wings touching the water as Brock dove back in to stop him as you screamed your last breath, the sound making everyone cover their ears as their eyes had to close because the light emanating from you was too bright to look at before the light faded and Brock and Cugas both looked to see you start to float down, unconscious before your body landed gently onto the bottom of the hold and Cugas, in a fit of rage- stabbed Brock before he dove down to you and held you, tried shaking you and blew his last breath back into you but it was no use- you were gone, he was about to jump to the surface before Brock’s blood wafted in front of your face and your eyes snapped open as you breathed in Brock’s blood causing Cugas to try to swim away before he watched your wings pull into yourself and your body transform into the prettiest mermaid he had ever seen, your eyes now pitch black before you smiled, way too many teeth lining your jaw as you did so before you kissed Cugas sweetly as now it was his turn to freeze at the display of affection. 
“Thank you so much for trying to help.” You thanked him, your voice having an ethereal quality to it as your whole body then lit up with bioluminescence, lighting up the hold beautifully as you gestured for him to go up to the surface. 
“You stabbed me!” Brock yelled at Cugas as Cugas finally made it up to the surface. 
“Yeah but your blood got her to change.” Cugas smiled as he treaded water and watched as you untied the chain from the ballast before you picked it up and swam it to the edge and chucked it out of the hold. 
“Holy shit, even as a siren she’s strong.” Cugas smiled as he just watched as you swam over to Brock who was hanging onto the side as you tried to gently coax him from the side. 
“Come on, time to heal you again.” You giggled as Brock just stared at you again as you held his hand. 
“It worked!” You smiled, your smile literally from ear to ear as Brock just stared in horrified awe at the three rows of very sharp teeth greeted him before you went to his side that was still bleeding before you gently coaxed his hand away from the wound before you took a deep breath and pulled more magic from your core and blew it into his wound as a bioluminescent gel that stuck to the wound as Cugas swam over to Brock and helped him stay afloat because Brock wasn’t the best swimmer himself. 
“How do you keep getting so lucky?” Cugas teased him. 
“You fucking stabbed me!” Brock accused. 
“Because you drowned her.” Cugas answered defensively.
“Yeah but it worked, her idea worked.” Brock argued. 
“I still think we could have done it another way.” Cugas argued as he watched as you coiled yourself around Brock before you pressed your hand over the wound and just hugged Brock, the marks on your body starting to pulse as you did so. 
“What does it feel like?” Cugas asked curiously. 
“Like she’s put ice into it.” Brock answered with a wince as he watched, noticing you were swimming up so he didn’t have to as Cugas had a hold of him and you were managing to keep both of them up. 
“It’s hypnotizing isn’t it.” Cugas whispered in awe. 
“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Brock whispered back before he noticed his own tattoos start to glow and pulse too. 
“Woah,” Cugas breathed before he let go and got a little bit of space before he dove down to get a better look. 
“Hi,” you greeted. 
“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice muffled by the water before you just shook your head and blew a big breath at his head before his head was encased in a huge bubble. 
“Oh this is the most amazing thing to ever happen to me.” Cugas giggled with glee as he was able to stay under water and breathe from the bubble as you giggled. 
“It’s an undiran, for someone who wants to breathe underwater but doesn’t want to change to a merperson, siren or otherwise.” You smiled. 
“So why are his tattoos glowing?” He asked as you had to think of a half truth to tell him since this wouldn’t let you lie completely. 
“Orcs have magic too, I’m calling to it to help heal him, you stabbed his liver, it’s taking quite a bit to heal him, I’m having his own being do half the work.” You explained. 
“Oh, awesome.” Cugas nodded in understanding. 
“You stabbed my liver?!” Brock asked as he glared at Cugas. 
“You drowned her!” Cugas argued back before you uncoiled yourself from Brock to reach out and grab Cugas. 
“It’s ok, it worked, that’s what matters. Please give the orders to stay in the eye of the oncoming storm, I can feel the currents down here, tell them to find the circle current, it’ll keep you around the black waters and in the eye of the storm.” You gently urged him. “Please.” You added. 
“I can’t say no to you.” Cugas complained. 
“Thank you Cugas.” You thanked him sweetly before he came back up to the surface, his undiran popping once it touched the surface as he gave more orders and left you and Brock in the hold as his men left and gave you some privacy. 
“You’ll be ok.” You reassured Brock as you coiled around him again, your tail underneath to gently swim to keep his head above water so he didn’t have to tread water himself as you sat in companionable silence again for a moment. 
“Yana,” Brock suddenly murmured, his voice softer than you had ever heard it before. 
“Hmm?” You asked, craning your head up from where it had been resting on his chest. 
“Please don’t ever ask me to do anything like that again.” Brock requested as his arms seemed to gravitate around you as one seemed to find the back of your hand, his fingers threading into your hair.  
“Afraid that Cugas will succeed in killing you next time?” You tried to tease but the look on his face told you that this wasn’t a matter light enough to joke about. 
“That was really hard for me to do and I took a big leap of faith that you knew yourself better than any of us do. I can’t…” His bottom lip quivered for a moment as his eyes got glassy as emotion choked out his voice. 
“That was really dangerous and we almost lost you. Kids can be physically resilient but mentally fragile and as we age that reverses. I know you’re strong and powerful and you have abilities I can only dream of. But everyone has their limits and this was beyond mine. I knew it was a mistake before I even did it and I don’t blame Cugas for reacting the way he did and frankly if I had lost you, I never would have forgiven myself and no one else would have either. Please, don’t ask me to do anything like that again.” Brock pleaded and you were moved by his words. 
“Ok.” You agreed as you nodded in understanding before he just hugged you and held you while you healed him and this suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world and just as you finished you felt something hit the bottom of the ship as you heard the whole crew start to scream and panic before the tank doors at the bottom of the ship were pried open and you quickly got Brock on top of you as you quickly swam him to the side against the suction of the water pulling you down before a big hand reached inside and grabbed you. 
“Brock!” You called before you were pulled out of the hold and the doors were shut behind you before you dragged to the dark, dark depths.
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missjosie27 · 4 years
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Year 3 Part 7- Keeper of the Keys
Hey, guys. I'm sorry this update took so long. Shit has been well...weird. Hard to explain. However, rest assured I am not abandoning this pic, not by a long shot. Updates just won't be consistently regular as a warning to all my readers. To make up for some lost time, this is a longer chapter and I hope you all enjoy!
To say that Tulip Karasu was eccentric was an understatement. Nevertheless, David had no choice but to play ball for now if he wanted any of the information he sought. He was a bit apprehensive sitting at the Ravenclaw table during dinner, but luckily Andre’s assertion proved to be correct. No one desired to sit near her and therefore they could spend the meal alone and in peace.
Stuffing Dennis into her shirt pocket, the Ravenclaw began to serve herself and cut up her chicken into several tiny pieces before eating. The young Gryffindor was hungry, but he preferred to focus on the matter at hand. Something about this girl was oddly fascinating. He also had many questions to ask.
“So how exactly did you stumble across my brother’s room and how was I not aware of that? Furthermore, since when are multiple people looking for the vaults?”
“One question at a time,” Tulip countered with a smile. “I still need to know why I should work with you, David Grant.”
The use of his full name was another idiosyncratic habit she seemed to demonstrate. That being said, it couldn’t hurt to give her a pitch. Especially since it sounded like she had been working with another person, possibly more than one in searching for the vault. From the looks of it, their progress was better than his in finding the latest one.
“I don’t usually play this card but...I’m the best chance you have at getting inside of a vault. I’m one of the strongest duelists in our year and I’ve broken one curse already.”
“You’re a very determined and talented person, there’s no denying that,” Tulip replied thoughtfully. “But it seems like I’m closer to finding the next vault than you are. Why shouldn’t I just go off on my own?”
“Because if we assist each other, it’ll help us solve the mystery faster,” David explained. “You found my brother’s room, but I doubt you’re any closer to knowing the vault’s location.”
“True. You make logical points. But Dumbledore forbade any student from searching for them this year. What if something goes wrong and you try to pin the blame on me?”
Tulip was testing him, he knew that. She followed rules no more than he did. But clearly this was a person who didn’t trust people easily.
“I don’t rat on my friends,” David said simply. “When I thought Bill might not make prefect, I tried to take the blame from McGonagall. I’d do the same for you.
“Perish the thought of me ever becoming prefect,” Tulip laughed. “However, I am glad that you value the people around you.”
“I’ll put this simply: I don’t care about whatever so-called power the vaults have. I’m only in this for one reason and that’s to find my brother.”
The Ravenclaw girl scanned him up and down, as though he were a mildly intriguing piece of modern art. David felt a bit uncomfortable but said nothing. Finally she spoke again.
“I don’t know that I like you yet, David Grant, but I do trust you.”
Okay that’s a start...I guess
“Then will you tell me who your accomplice was?” he asked her.
“Merula Snyde.”
David immediately spit out the pumpkin juice he’d been consuming causing a few Ravenclaws to look over with mild disgust.
“WHAT?! But why would you team up with her of all people? You seem way too smart to trust Merula.”
Tulip gave him her most serious look yet.
“Merula is a lot smarter than you give her credit for. You may not like her personality, but there’s no denying her skill.”
David scoffed. “Yeah I’ll get back to you on that one. I’ve beaten her so many times in duels I’ve lost count. She’s always trying to one up me but never succeeds.”
“Her greatest weakness is that she believes she’s invincible. But more on that later. The point is we were working together at one point but then we had a falling out. Unfortunately she still has the other key to your brother’s room.”
“Then we have to get it back.”
“Agreed,” Tulip said. “But the question is ‘how’? She’s not going to hand it over willingly.”
“I’ve found over the years that the only way to get Merula Snyde to do anything is by forcing her. Typically after one beats her in a duel.”
“That may work, but this situation is also quite delicate and we don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves from the teachers. Especially if they caught us fighting.”
David agreed with that conclusion. They would need to try another method.
“Then what do you suggest?
Tulip gave another sly smile.
“Leave that to me. I’ll come up with something that will turn Merula on her head.”
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Tulip told him she would need some time to plan and would message him when ready. In the meantime, David kept busy with homework which was significantly heavier this year with two added electives. He also enjoyed the start of Quidditch season given it was the first week of November. Unfortunately, unlike the previous year, things didn't go as swimmingly for Gryffindor this time around. Slytherin edged them 300-260 in the opening match. None was as ecstatic as Merula and she constantly reminded him about it during the week.
“I really hope Tulip comes up with a plan soon,” David muttered one day while sitting in the common room with Rowan and Bill. The two third years were finishing Transfiguration homework while the prefect looked over potions he might expect to find on his OWLs. “If I have to listen to Merula brag about Slytherin’s victory any longer I might just have to learn the silencing charm in order to shut her big mouth.”
Rowan chuckled as he turned the page on Intermediate Transfiguration by Emeric Switch.
“You’ll get your chance at payback soon enough, especially if you intend to get that key.”
“I know...I just wish she’d hurry up. Losing to Merula in anything is unbearable.”
“Be thankful you weren’t directly responsible for the loss,” Bill said to him, indicating the somber figure of his brother slumping in one of the chairs. Charlie had been noticeably quiet since the match, avoiding crowds and shutting himself up in the dormitory most of the time outside of class.
“Is he going to be alright?”
“He’ll get over it,” Bill assured them. “But despite what you may think, Charlie is super competitive when it comes to Quidditch. He hates losing and this was the first time in his career he’s never caught the snitch.”
“Can’t win them all I suppose,” David sighed. “We should have won, though. Skye was flying circles around them again. And that Slytherin beater totally committed a foul before Charlie could seal the deal.”
“It happens. I hate losing to Slytherin too, but a little perspective never hurts. There’s another cursed vault out there we need to find.”
David and Rowan nodded. You could always count on Bill to be level headed when it came to these situations.
“Speaking of, any luck with deciphering the rest of that book?”
“It’s slow going,” Rowan said shaking his head. “I swear I’m going barmy from trying to make out all the symbols. It gets more complicated the deeper you get into the book.”
“Don’t overwork yourself,” Bill said kindly. “The best thing we can do now is getting into that room.”
As it happened, there was more progress on that front. Jae Kim suddenly appeared in front of their group.
“I was told by a certain Tulip Karasu to tell David that she wants you to meet her in the courtyard straight away.”
The three Gryffindors looked at each other with anticipation.
“Did she say anything else?”
Jae shrugged.
“Nope. I’m just passing along the message. If you’ll excuse me, I have orders to fill.”
Bill gave an uneasy expression as the Korean boy walked off.
“I sometimes wonder if I shouldn’t be doing more to prevent him from running that little black market of contraband he has.”
“Jae does plenty to get himself in trouble without your involvement,” David chuckled. “I swear we don’t even need Zonko’s. He supplies half the school with Fanged Frisbees by himself.”
He stood up and brushed off some of the couch lint on his jeans.
“Guess I better see what Tulip wants.”
“Hopefully she’s got a plan,” Rowan said eagerly.
“Yeah...hopefully.”
Despite barely knowing her, David had a feeling that whatever Tulip Karasu wanted, it was bound to be interesting to say the least.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
He made his way down to the specified area where Tulip was waiting just outside the entrance. Unlike her uniform, she wore a blue coat over a thick sweater with a matching beanie hat with a puffball on top combined with a flowy skirt, black tights, and flats. It was a brisk day despite the sunny weather and winter was well on the way.
“Good. You made it,” she greeted him. “Are you ready for my plan?”
“Don’t need Trelawney’s ‘Inner Eye’ to predict you’ve got something cooked up.”
“You’re becoming more perceptive,” Tulip said with a mischievous smirk. “Merula is over there, holding court with her lackeys.”
David gave a small peek, and sure enough the Slytherin girl was there alongside Barnaby and Ismelda. What they were talking about, he couldn’t hear but Merula was clearly animated about something.
“I’d recognize that orange tuft of hair anywhere. So what’s the big plan?”
“Even though they aren’t that bright, Barnaby and Ismelda are still tough and ruthless,” Tulip explained. “We need a diversion to lure them away from her. And luckily, I have the perfect item for the job.”
Out of her coat came a dungbomb, except twice as large and covered with some kind of outer shell.
“I call it the ultimate dungbomb,” she grinned. “Mixed in with some stinksap. I used the hardening charm ‘Duro’ to give it some heft. We toss this into their little circle and they won’t know what hit them.”
“Wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that thing,” David said, eyeing the putried projectile. “So now what? Do we levitate it or something?”
“Follow my lead. We hide behind the fountain until the perfect moment to strike.”
And so they entered the courtyard, tiptoeing along the way, careful not to make too much noise. The wind aided them in this goal and as they drew closer David could make out the conversation the three Slytherins were having.
“...can’t believe this! We’ve searched everywhere! We’re never going to find a cursed vault!”
“We should cast the Cruciatus Curse on Grant on his friends. Torture makes everyone talk,” Ismelda suggested with dark glee.
“Talking to you is torture. You have some serious issues, Ismelda,” Merula responded.
“We should ask Dumbledore. He’s really smart,” Barnaby said thickly.
By now Tulip and David were crouched low behind the fountain, peering over slightly to get a sense of distance from their opponents.
“Dumbledore spent half his welcome speech telling us to stay away from the vaults. Or did you forget that, you nitwit,” Merula chastised.
“We could give him Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. I heard he likes those.”
“Sometimes I wonder if your brain was replaced by a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean.”
“I still say we should use an unforgivable,” Ismelda cut in. “I’d like to cast the killing curse on the next Gryffindor I see.”
That earned a look of derision and disgust from her leader.
“You don’t even know the killing curse.”
“I sat on a bowtruckle once!” Barnaby pipped up.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Ismelda asked, looking at Barnaby as though he had a second head.
“I thought we were talking about killing things.”
“Ugh, I hate you both,” Merula commented, rolling her eyes.
David shook his head behind the fountain.
“Merlin, this is literally too stupid to listen to. Now?”
Tulip nodded.
“Now!”
Using her wand, the Ravenclaw sent the ultimate dungbomb flying into the air towards the Slytherin trio. It exploded upon impact causing a toxic mist of green and yellow to fill the air and all three began to tear up, covering their noses with their arms.
“Dear, Merlin that is awful!” Ismelda cried, coughing into her arm.
“I can’t breathe!” Barnaby said coughing as well. “Let’s get out of here!”
Merula was hacking and wheezing too, but she still had enough oxygen to call after them as they ran.
“Get back here you cowards! It’s just a dungbomb!”
David wasted no time in stepping out of the shadows, Tulip in tow. They both confronted the angry Slytherin, who became irate upon laying her eyes on them.
“I should have known it was you!” Merula shouted, trembling with rage.
“Your powers of perception are truly dizzying,” he said to her in a bored tone.
“Hand the key over to us, Merula. I don’t know how long I can stand your stink,” Tulip demanded.
The look on the Slytherin’s face went from rage to incredulous.
“Us? You betrayed me, started working with Grant and have the audacity to ask me to give you the second key?”
“Actually...yeah.”
Merula’s expression returned to its usual nasty leer.
“Well too bad. I’m not giving you anything. How does it feel knowing I found your brother’s room before you did, Grant?”
“I don’t have time for this, Merula,” David said sternly. “Give us the key, now.”
Tulip then did something unexpected, stepping forward, a note of sympathy in her voice.
“We could use your help. This doesn’t have to turn ugly. Work with us.”
David was surprised at the offer of assistance and wondered where it stemmed from but predictably, Merula turned it down.
“I don’t want to work with you, I want to duel. Specifically you, Grant. Beat me again and the key is yours…” she withdrew her wand from her sleeve. “But I don’t plan on losing to you. Not this time.”
David withdrew his own wand and prepared for battle. In truth, he was looking forward to pop her ego once more.
“You never learn, do you Merula?”
He quickly fired a disarming spell, but she ducked while sending one of her own which missed over his shoulder, causing Tulip to dodge.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
Despite it heading straight for her chest, the Slytherin demonstrated remarkable athleticism by rolling to her side and firing back a retort.
“Flipendo!”
David was forced to copy the same maneuver, scraping his elbow on the stone but managed to avoid the knockback jinx. Wheeling back around he aimed a jelly legs jinx but again it missed due to Merula’s agility.
She’s clearly learned a thing or two since last year
The Slytherin began pressing forward, drawing closer with each curse she fired off, putting David on the defensive retreating from his original spot back towards the wall. Some of the spells he recognized, some he didn’t and he was fairly certain a few were the kind a thirteen year old girl wasn’t supposed to know. All the same, he had to think of something before one of them landed on his person. Then, he remembered her weak spot, the same one as always.
Too aggressive. Too wild with her spells
Indeed while she was driving forward, he could see a manic look in her eye, the kind that someone had when they were determined but unhealthily obsessed. David then came up with an idea. Dropping his stance and his wand into a wide, lazy position, he allowed his opponent to think she was catching him off guard. Sure enough, Merula took the bait.
“Remollio!”
A jet of sickly, yellow light headed straight towards his head. Smiling slightly, he ducked forward into an almost ninety degree angle and sent back a spell of his own.
“Fumo!”
A mass of black smoke issued in front of Merula, blocking her vision and senses. It was all the time he needed to strike the winning blow.
“Depulso!”
The banishing charm smashed into the Slytherin girl sending her flying back and hard onto the ground into a groaning heap, wand dislodged.
Dissipating the smoke, David walked forward, wand aimed and ready in case she tried to cheat or lash back out.
“I win again, Merula. I won’t ask a third time. Give me the key.”
Clutching her shoulder painfully, she rose from the ground, grabbed her wand, and proceeded to chuck a golden key at his feet.
“Fine! Take the stupid key! I already got what I needed from that loser’s room anyway.”
Tulip came up behind him now that the duel was over, picking up the key, sympathy still lurking in her dark brown eyes.
“Merula, please we could still use…”
“My help? Save your breath. I don’t work with traitors!”
Lavender eyes switched over to David and for the first time, he saw that they were on the verge of tears.
“Watch out for this one, Grant. It's only a matter of time before she stabs you in the back.”
Without another word, Merula brushed past them, the sound of combat boots hitting against stone echoing across the courtyard as she ran back towards the dungeons.
David wondered what Tulip’s reaction would be to these thinly veiled accusations but to his slight surprise her sympathetic expression was gone, replaced by her usual mischievous delight.
“Mission accomplished, David Grant. Let’s go to your brother’s room.”
Though satisfied with receiving the key, Merula’s reaction unnerved the teenage Gryffindor. He didn’t bring it up further but there was no doubt Tulip hadn’t told him everything about her history with his chief rival.
At least not yet.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The two teens wasted no time in heading towards Jacob’s room and soon they were standing in front of the dark brown, wooden, door. However, there was one question still burning in the back of David’s mind.
“Tulip?”
“Hm?”
“What did Merula mean when she said she already took what she needed from my brother’s room?”
Tulip shook her head.
“She was lying. We used this room because it was full of valuable information and research but there was nothing worth taking or pointing to the location of the vaults themselves...at least nothing that I saw.”
“Jacob was always pretty savvy at hiding things,” David informed her. “It’s perfectly possible you missed something. Hell, I just found a quill that turned out to be his transfigured notebook. I know this will sound strange, but I haven’t felt this close to him since he disappeared. There are a lot of things I’m still finding out.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” the Ravenclaw teen asked him seriously. “You may not like what you find.”
David didn’t hesitate with his response. Any potential negative revelation about his brother could not outweigh the possible benefits of discovering more about his whereabouts.
“That’s a risk I’ll have to take. I have to see where he did his research.”
Tulip nodded, taking out her key and inserting it into the first part of the lock. She handed him the one they received from Merula.
“Do the honors.”
He did so, unclicking the lock, the golden seal falling to the floor with a metal clank. The door creaked open and the two teens entered the mysterious space. However, it was dark and impossible to see anything.
“I can’t see two feet in front of me,” David said aloud. “Tulip, you there?”
“Yeah. Lumos.”
The sight that greeted them was both unexpected and horrifying. Out of the shadows stepped a tall, bald, sickly pale man cloaked in black robes. His features were gaunt and waxy as though they had been warped or burnt, especially his nose, which was disproportionately smaller. But that was not the most disturbing aspect of this person. Within the skull like head were a pair of deadly, luminous blood red eyes that reeked of menace and murder. There was no mistaking who it was.
“Y-Y-You Know Who! It can’t be!” David cried.
“Run, Grant! RUN!”
Tulip immediately pulled him back before the figure could pull out his wand and slammed the door shut behind them.
Catching their breath from the near heart attack they both suffered, it took a few moments before either one could say anything.
“How is that possible? You Know Who is dead,” he panted.
“Use your common sense, David Grant. That was clearly a boggart. Hogwarts is crawling with them these days.”
Regaining his wits, the Gryffindor realized Tulip was right and mentally smacked himself for being so gullible.
“Merlin, that was embarrassing.”
“Don’t be hard on yourself,” Tulip reasoned. “A lot of grown witches and wizards would have reacted the same way, if not worse.”
She paused before adding. “I am curious, though. Why is your boggart, You Know Who?”
The truth was, David didn’t know the full reason why but before he could explain that to Tulip they were interrupted by another very unpleasant presence.
“Well, well...David Grant and Tulip Karasu...why am I not surprised to find you two here together?” Severus Snape spoke in his usual dangerous, silky tone.
Oh, shit
“Professor I-”
“Silence,” the potions master cut across him. “Your brother was the most disobedient student Hogwarts had seen since James Potter. You may have overtaken him.”
“But we’re allowed to be here, sir. It’s not after hours yet.”
“Do you really believe me to be a naive simpleton, Grant? Stay away from this corridor and give up your search for the vaults, or I will ensure you will share your brother’s fate. Now back to your common rooms, both of you.”
The two teens did not dare argue but before they parted company under Snape’s watchful eye he saw Tulip mouth to him, ‘We’ll talk later.’
They would need to. With Hogwarts' nastiest professor onto them and a boggart taking the form of Voldemort blocking the way, another method of gaining access to the room was needed.
David sighed as his brother’s room went out of view. He really hated roadblocks.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Thankfully, Snape couldn’t be everywhere at once and that included meal times as well as meetings after Transfiguration which the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws shared together. Though both David and Tulip were eager to try and go back to the room they mutually agreed to stay away for the time being lest the head of Slytherin catch them again. The main priority was getting rid of the boggart.
“Professor Sprout used some kind of spell to defeat the boggart that scared Penny earlier in the year,” David mused while he and the Ravenclaw walked together after class one day.
“Well technically we’re supposed to cover boggarts in Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. But we can’t wait for that incompetent buffoon to actually bring it up or teach us for that matter.”
“I swear these gormless prats are more and more useless with each passing year,” David agreed. “Guess it’s time to hit the library.”
“Let’s agree to research there after lessons are done every Friday,” Tulip suggested. “I’m sure there’s a lot we can learn before the holidays come around.”
“Sounds like a plan. I can bring Rowan along too. He’s one of the smartest people I know. Super brainy.”
Tulip suddenly hesitated.
“Actually, I’d prefer it to just be the two of us...for the time being. I can’t really explain it right now. Just trust me.”
As it was with Merula, David didn’t press the issue but he was steadily growing evermore curious about his new partner’s past. Whatever happened between her and the Slytherin teen must have been severe but he sensed there was more to it than that.
Adding to the surrounding mystery was another anonymous message he received one night. He had just come back from dinner with Penny, Tonks, and Diego when Rowan rushed to greet him quite frantically.
“David!”
“Whoa, steady on. What’s up?”
His best friend proceeded to pull out a letter from his robe pocket and hand it to him. The envelope was not addressed and carried no visible distinction.
“I found this on your bed,” he explained. “It just...appeared there. I didn’t open it in case it was private or cursed.”
David stared at the mail for a split second debating his chances. If it was a message from ‘R’ once again he was mostly certain it wasn’t cursed. Such a group would have tried to kill him by now. Then again he also had no idea what they were capable of given the general mystery surrounding them.
Taking his chances, he slit open the envelope, removed the parchment inside and read the contents aloud.
“You are in grave danger. Your investigation into the Cursed Vaults has drawn the attention of a group who is not to be trifled with. Be careful, but remain courageous. I’m depending on you to reach the final vault before the others. I will assist you when I can. I hope the next time I deliver you a message, the circumstances are far less mysterious.
Sincerely,
A Friend’” 
Taking a moment to reread the letter and analyze its contents David looked towards his brainiac friend for a possible explanation. Rowan appeared to be as lost as he was.
“For the record, I have no idea who wrote you that letter. Do you?”
David certainly had no more inkling than the hippogriff by Hagrid’s hut. There were a number of possibilities, which included his brother, an enemy playing tricks, or even the Headmaster himself.
“I’m as lost as you are. I’d say it was a ruse except for the fact none of the Slytherins know how to get into our common room. If anything, it sounds like an ally of some sort.”
“I sure hope so,” Rowan responded with a bit of anxiety. “These anonymous messages are starting to creep me out a bit.”
He paused before asking another question.
“By the way, what’s with this Tulip girl? Why does she insist on working with you alone?”
David genuinely shrugged.
“I wish I knew. Your guess is as good as mine.”
In truth, David had little time to reflect on it at the current moment. Tulip was a vital piece in all of this and he could scarcely afford to scare her off. Whoever the mystery man was that claimed to be on his side, there was no use in dwelling on that either. Aside from his schoolwork, which he was careful to pay close attention to, the only thing that mattered was learning how to get rid of that pesky boggart in his brother’s room in order to properly access it.
Thankfully, that wasn’t too difficult in principle. Within their first round of research the Ravenclaw girl discovered the spell ‘Ridikkilus’ which was the same one Professor Sprout used to disperse the boggart in the Herbology classroom. However, given the risks of using the spell without prior experience and with Snape still looming over their heads, Tulip advised against going back to the room before they were ready. David wanted to head back as soon as possible but he eventually relented as his new partner in crime told him to practice over the holidays while she thought of a plan.
Honestly, she’s always scheming that one
However, with Christmas around the corner, the dreaded return back to West Country loomed over his head and he was not looking forward to the strained, emotionally stunted holiday as was per custom in the Grant household. But on the eve of his departure, he received a distraction of sorts, something quite unexpected.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It was the last Hogsmeade trip of the season before the holidays and David used that time to share a glass of butterbeer with his friends namely Rowan, Ben, Tonks, Penny, and Charlie. The Three Broomsticks was even cozier and warm this time of year and full of festive cheer and decorations, many of which he helped Madam Rosmerta put up before the big customer rush as a ‘thank you’ for giving him the quill. In return, he and his companions received a round of free drinks.
“I tell you what. Life doesn’t get much better than this,” Rowan said, taking a satisfying swig.
“I can’t wait to go home and see my family for Christmas,” Penny beamed. She was snuggled up in a blue coat with a matching beret, leggings, and snow boots. David couldn’t help but notice the rosy glow on her cheeks and how pretty she looked. “My sister is dying to know more about Hogwarts even though I’ve told her so much already.”
“What about you, Dave?” Ben asked genuinely.
David tried to hide the fact that he was secretly conflicted and tried to play it off with his usual sarcasm.
“Well my mom will stress herself needlessly from making the dinner, my dad will read his newspaper and do paperwork, we open some presents followed by an awkward crying session from said mother who tops it off with a bottle of wine….so yeah. Merry Christmas to me.”
The blond boy was unsure how to respond to that as flushed with embarrassment.
“I...uh…”
“Relax, Ben,” Tonks cut in. “Dave knows you didn’t mean anything by it. Besides, I know exactly how to cheer him up.”
She transformed her face into that of a toucan’s beak, something usually never failed to elicit a laugh. But this time the Gryffindor teen didn’t budge.
“Oh come on, David that always works. Show a little festive cheer!”
Before she could stick another butterbeer under his nose the second Weasley brother came back over with another round and a message.
“Drink up you lot. Also David, my brother wants a word with you.”
He raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“For what? Did he mention a reason?”
“Just said it was urgent. He’s over there sitting by himself. Pretty moody by his standards.”
Shrugging, he took the spare butterbeer weaved and ducked his way through the Christmas crowd and found Bill seated at one of the tables meant for two people. Indeed, he had a curious expression on his face.
“Charlie told me you wanted to talk?” he said, taking his chair. “Is everything okay?”
“How are you in the ways of romance, Dave?”
It was a loaded question, one he was not prepared to answer at all. Because the answer was not at all.
“Uh, Bill...I think you may want the tea shop down the street,” he joked referring to Madam Puddifoots. “What’s this about, anyway?”
“I’m obsessed with this girl named Emily Tyler,” the prefect explained and there was a swooning glint in his eyes. “She’s not only beautiful but in Defense Against the Dark Arts she single handedly stupefied an entire swarm of vampire bats.”
“That’s not saying much given the current state of that class,” David joked again, taking a sip from his glass. He did, however, see Bill’s point. He knew of Emily Tyler and many older Gryffindors had the hots for her. She always hung out with the same group of friends chatting away about gossip, makeup, Witch Weekly, and whatever they found interesting that day. She was also quite wealthy on both sides of her family. “So what’s the next step then? Are you going to tell her?”
“You make it sound so simple. But I was actually hoping you could talk to her for me.”
David had never seen Bill this...timid before and it was a bit unsettling. The tall, lanky, long haired Weasley was usually the cool one of their group- collected, confident, the voice of reason and was a favorite among the student body in the way he conducted his prefect duties. To witness him as being so unsure meant this girl meant a lot to him.
“Bill, no offense but you’re asking the wrong bloke. I know less about this stuff than you do. I’ve never even had a girlfriend.”
“Well neither have I. I’ve also never been in love before.”
“And what makes you think...wait you’re in love?” he asked, completely floored.
“Am I? I don’t even know anymore. What’s happening to me?”
It was then the adolescent Gryffindor knew just how important this was to Bill and the least he could do was try and spread some cheer before Christmas. Just as Tonks pointed out. If he could play matchmaker for one of his best friends, what was the harm?
“Don’t worry about a thing mate. I’ll go talk to her. No problem.”
Bill smiled in response, his worried brows relaxing slightly.
“Good. She’s actually right over there.”
He pointed behind him ever so subtly to indicate her presence, and sure enough, there she was hanging out with her usual assortment of friends, holding court at one of the wall booths.
“You sure you want me to do this?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t serious.”
“Then I will,” David replied simply. “I’ll be right back.”
He drained the latter portion of his butterbeer and made his way over through the vast crowd. Upon finally reaching the booth it didn’t take long for the group of girls to look up at him with curious looks as though he were some kind of exotic alien. That certainly didn’t help his nerves but he pressed forward anyway.
“Emily Tyler?”
David didn’t need to ask as he recognized her right away. He could see what the elder Weasley meant. Like Bill, Emily was a fifth year but physically quite mature, and could have passed for two or three years beyond her age. True to word, she was very pretty, piercing brown eyes to go with high cheekbones and a slim, feminine jawline to go along with extensive makeup. Dark brown hair formed a widow’s peak along her forehead and was pulled back into a high ponytail. She also appeared to be quite fond of the color pink as she wore a long sleeved magenta dress complete with thick, pink tights, a cardigan and boots. It was indicative of someone who grew up quite upper class.
Though she did not look annoyed, there was a haughtiness to her expression that was a tad unsettling to the third year cursebreaker.
“That’s my name,” she responded evenly, ignoring the whispers of her posse. “And you’re that cursed vault kid, David Grant. What can I do you for?”
“Well I’m a friend of Bill Weasley’s…”
This didn’t seem to impress her.
“Okay?”
Out with it. She’s not going to wait for the grass to grow
“He fancies you and wants to know how you feel.”
On cue the rest of Emily’s friends began to giggle though she gave no indication as to how she personally felt.
“If I can speak in his favor, he’s a solid bloke. You couldn’t ask for a better friend.”
“He fancies me? I have to say I’m surprised,” Emily finally responded.
“It’s true. Haven’t seen him this frazzled...well ever really.”
“Is this some sort of joke? Because I don’t want to look like an idiot. What did he tell you?”
“Fair warning: I know as much about romance as I do about advanced Arithmancy, don’t hex the messenger,” David told her bluntly.
“Perish the thought. I want to hear this,” Emily said as much to her friends as she did to him to stop them from giggling.
“What else can I say? He thinks you’re amazing, powerful, beautiful, strong. Bill is as cool as any person in this school but he’s a mess over you. And you couldn’t ask to date a finer person.”
There it was. A glowing recommendation and an honest account of his friend’s intentions and feelings. Surely that was enough to win over a girl right?
He thought wrong. A very unpleasant, arrogant smirk crossed Emily Tyler’s face as she began playing with her pink, manicured nails.
“What a prat.”
David did a double take.
“I’m sorry?”
“Don’t get me wrong he’s reasonably handsome but why would anyone date a Weasley?”
Anger surged through David as his right hand turned into a fist around his glass mug. Was she really turning him down for the reasons he thought she was? The resumed giggling from her cronies made it worse.
“May I ask why?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Everyone knows the Weasleys are one the poorest wizarding families in Britain. They have no means, no manners, and no prospects. Why would I lower myself to such a standard?”
“I think you should take that back,” David said with quiet fury.
“And so what if I don’t?” Emily sneered. “Tell your friend thank you for sharing his feelings, it was a good for a laugh but he’s delusional if he ever thought he had a chance with me.”
By now, pure hatred surged through his veins, temper getting the best of him. More from the shock of someone actually insulting Bill, Emily Tyler was now the queen bitch in his eyes. Slamming his mug on the table with tremendous force, causing the four girls to jump with fright.
“I’ll tell you what I think,” he growled. “Bill must be attracted to your looks because your personality is pure rubbish.”
Emily recovered from the shock and shot him a venomous, threatening stare.
“You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“I know enough. You sit over here prattling on like my mother at a book club thinking you’re the greatest thing since Merlin’s first bowel movement. But you’re nothing but a stuck up piece of shite. I’m just glad I can tell Bill before he wastes any more time on you.”
He flipped the glass over, spilling the small amount of butterbeer left inside.
“Get bent...snobbish twit.”
Without wasting another second, he turned and left, still fuming over the audacity of Emily Tyler to call his mate ill mannered and inferior. It was also a highlight into the flaws of his own house. Just because you were bold and confident didn’t make you a good person. So pissed he was, he barely noticed Bill’s reaction when he sat back down at the table.
“Dave?”
“Huh?”
“You look like you’re about to explode. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
Of course, Bill didn’t believe that.
“What happened and what did Emily say?”
On the one hand, David really didn’t want to reveal the full extent of Emily’s denigrating insults. It might shatter his heart given how much he liked her. Then again, it wouldn’t do to have someone he looked up to pining after someone who would sooner rip his heart out and stomp on it than date him. The truth was more important than protecting him from it.
“Bill...I won’t lie to you. It wasn’t good.”
“What do you mean?”
He hated seeing Bill’s confused face and he suspected that what was to follow would be equally as painful.
“Mate, she’s not interested. And she didn’t mince words.”
The eldest Weasley’s expression fell dramatically.
“Oh.”
“You can do better than her,” David tried to reassure him
“But-but she’s the most beautiful girl in our year...this whole school.”
“She’s also mean, arrogant, and generally awful. Bill, she insulted you and your family.”
He didn’t want to go there but there was little other choice than to prevent his friend from continuing his obsession. And he wasn’t fibbing. Bill did deserve better.
“She did?”
“Heard it with my own two ears.”
“But what did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” David emphasized. “And that’s the point. You’re too good for her. And not the other way around.”
“It doesn’t feel that way,” Bill said with the slightest of tremors in his voice.
The third year leaned forward, speaking with the utmost sincerity he could muster.
“Listen to me...you’re one of my best friends. You’ve taught me a lot about dueling, magic, and Hogwarts itself. Everyone I know looks up to you as a person, prefect, and role model….and so do I. Don’t let someone like Emily Tyler change that. Be good to yourself.”
His impassioned speech seemed to finally break through and the Bill Weasley of old shone through.
“Thanks, David...I’m sorry for acting like an idiot. She’s the first girl I really fell for...it’s hard you know?”
He didn’t, not truly since he’d never had a crush on a girl before. But David felt a great deal of sympathy for his friend. Anything that could rattle the cool Bill Weasley could rattle anyone else.
“Of course.”
“Now let’s grab another butterbeer. Next one’s on me.”
“Cheers, mate. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
He and Bill made their way back towards their friend group where Charlie, Rowan, and company were waiting, greeting them warmly. Though the drinks were sweet and the atmosphere quite merry for the upcoming Christmas season, David own’s spirits were far from being satiated. A part of him knew his angry reaction to Emily’s rejection of the eldest Weasley was due to his own misapprehension and unhappiness that plagued him this time of year.
Images of his brother flashed before his mind as though it were a dream sequence.
For all the faith people placed in him, he wished he could take his own advice.
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Chapter 3 - The first meeting
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A/N: Finally! I’m finally getting to post this after days of crying over this. Please forgive me, if the writing’s a bit lousy. I tried my best :(
Summary: Sometimes, falling can be a new beginning. And like wise, loosing something may also be the first step to finding something else. That in which, both you and yoongi were dealing to survive with the ghosts of your past, but when the two of you cross paths, will you be each other’s strengths and get through whatever is holding you back? I’m shit at summaries, please forgive me.
Pairing: Yoongi x reader (ft. Namjoon)
Genre: Angst, romance, slice of life, slow burn, is there fluff? I don’t know, non idol AU
Warnings: None here
Word count: 2k
Chapter 2 - Chapter 4
Namjoon was late. He was extraordinarily late. And Yoongi was bored. Very bored. He was sitting in front of the desk Namjoon usually occupied in his office behind Seokjin’s restaurant. His head leaning over his hand that was resting on the table, and his other hand playing with some papers scattered across it. It was around 10:30 am in the morning and Yoongi had been sitting in front of that desk for about two hours by now. And as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he was getting irritated and impatient. A text from Namjoon exactly half an hour ago told him that the boy was going to make it in the next fifteen minutes, but 30 minutes went by and there’s still no sight of that man.
The weather outside was bleary. An aftermath of a stormy night. The sky was a mixture of greys, whites and some hues of light blue here and there. Cold wind graced the streets of Seoul, while the sun hid behind a canopy of clouds peeking out every now and then as if playing hide and seek with the billions of people that roamed the planet. It was the kind of weather that makes you want to snuggle yourself deeper under your blankets and sleep in. But, as for Yoongi, he found himself awake before he usually does. Actually, to be very honest, he was awakened by the sound of his phone buzzing constantly on the side table. It was Namjoon calling him at ass O’ clock in the morning, because he wanted to see the photos he snapped the other day at the venue. Scowling to himself, he grumbled his way out of the bed and plopped himself at the kitchen counter while still sleepy. Even Jimin was surprised. His roommate was definitely not someone who’d wake up before 9 am. And yet, there Yoongi was. Up and about at 8 am. A whole hour before his usual time. 
A whole hour.
This probably explains why he was a bit extra grumpy when Namjoon did not turn up at the specified time. Yoongi sincerely hoped, the boy didn’t accidentally crash something or set his home on fire. Yes, Namjoon was very capable of that. Stifling a yawn, he continued to poke around on the objects on the table. 
A bare attempt to pass the time.
A bare attempt to keep himself from falling asleep right then and there.
---
It’s been days since you’ve kept to yourself in your apartment. You haven’t really been doing much. The most you’ve willed yourself to do was to laze around the house, watch some TV, eat if hungry (You haven’t been cooking so it’s mostly take out or convenience store food), and maybe if you’re in the mood, you’d lounge around in your balcony. And if not, you’d just lay back in your couch and watch as the sky changed colors outside. Well, to be honest, there isn’t much to do either. You’ve kept your apartment sparse, as if you’re only expecting a temporary stay. Not many visitors either, other than Namjoon who kept on insisting that you have to get out of your house every now and then. 
And of course, you being you paid no heed to his words. It wasn’t that there was something stopping you from going outside, but just that, you found no real reason to go outside. You never really were an outdoor person. You liked the indoors, the warmth, the comfort and safety the four walls around you offered. It was as simple as that. Nothing big, nothing small, just that. But Namjoon being Namjoon, insisted that you need it.
“It’s a necessity!” He emphasised as he accidentally tripped over the coffee table in your living room and knocked himself out on the sofa, “You need it!”
“Not really,” You thought to yourself but didn’t say it out loud. After all Namjoon was really trying hard to help you as best as he can. 
“You need to get out of the house every now and then Y/nie,” He continued, “Staying at home and moping around won’t solve your problems.”
You sighed. You can’t blame him. Ever since your break down at the gallery, Namjoon was being a bit extra worried about you. Checking up on you twice or thrice a day, making sure to stop by your place every now and then, getting you home cooked meals, making sure you get proper sleep etc. The attention felt nice, you know how much Namjoon cares about you. It’s very evident in his every word, every action. But, there’s always a but. You couldn't help but feel like you were a liability, like you were incapable of taking care of yourself without the help of a third person. It wasn’t his fault. You knew your train of thought comes from a place where you’re frustrated with yourself. Unable to move forward, unable to dwell in the past. Stuck at a point/ place you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. As if you were lost in a never ending void. 
Falling
Falling
Falling and
Falling.
The breakdowns happened every now and then. It was nothing new for you. By this point, you’ve learned to live with it, the pain. You’ve learnt to deal with it by yourself. But Namjoon wouldn’t let go. And to be honest, it wasn’t a bad thing.
“Why don’t you come with me to work?” He said, expectantly looking up at you, his dimpled smile decorating his face, “most of my friends are artists or people who are into similar fields. I’m sure you’ll all get along great.” 
“I don’t know Joon…” You said, leaning back into your chair, your hand coming up to rub your temples, “You know how I am in social situations, I get very awkward and meeting new people is always scary.”
“No Y/n, no,” Namjoon nodded, “I promise you, these guys you’re going to meet they’re great, you’ll love them! They’re absolutely hilarious and are basically just a bunch of crackheads. You won’t regret this. You have my word!”
“I’m not so sure Joon…” You whispered, this time staring at the ceiling, your eyes trailing over the white washed walls, the bare minimum furniture and finally on to the photograph that stood on the side of your desk. You immediately turned your eyes away to a more exciting spot on the floor. 
“Try Y/nie,” Was all Namjoon said, “I swear, if you don’t like it, I won’t force you. But, please give it a try.”
You didn’t say anything for a while but continued to stare at the spot on the floor. You then slowly lifted your eyes, back to the photograph, “The last time, when I broke down at the gallery, it kind of overwhelmed me,” You admitted, “I don’t want a repeat of the same scenario and also...The very last time I had any kind of socializing was when I was with him. And after he was gone…”
“I understand Y/n,” Namjoon replied, his voice soft, his hands wrapping around your own, “I really do, after all, the incident affected me as much as it did to you. He was someone you loved, but he was also my best friend. The one and only.”
You instinctively snapped your head to look at him. Namjoon was looking at you, his lips spread in a wistful smile. Sometimes you tend to forget. You two were in this together, you always had been. It was as hard on him as it was on you. Namjoon might fuss about you, sometimes go an extra mile just to make you feel you aren’t alone. But perhaps, his actions come from a place, far lonelier than you anticipated. And just one look at the guy in front of you, you could feel your resolve fade away.
“Okay,” You said, your throat going dry, “Okay, I’ll come with you.”
Namjoon beamed at you, his face lighting up like a thousand suns.
“Thank you,” He said, “Thank you so much.”
---
It was almost 11 when Yoongi decided to ditch Namjoon’s office and head towards Seokjin’s restaurant. He might as well keep himself busy with the elder’s company until Namjoon shows up. For the most part it was like any other day, filled to the brim with customers. There were couples, some families and some teenagers lingering around here and there. A typical restaurant setting one may say. It may be one,  but it always gave Yoongi the sense of a very laid back lounge. 
The scent of coffee and breakfast being served filled the area in a sweet amalgamation of aromas. The warmth in his surroundings wrapped him in a sense of comfort from the discordance of his inner world and gave him peace that soothed his nerves. And subconsciously Yoongi found himself smiling. It was weird how a place that he didn’t have a long history with resonated with him much more than his own home. After looking around for a while, he found the elder seated along with Taehyung and Jungkook in one of the corners of the seating area while sharing a delicious breakfast among themselves. He made his way toward them and sat himself down on one of the free cushions. 
“Yoongi Hyung!” Taehyung and Jungkook perked up the moment they saw the elder nestle himself next to them, “Good morning!”
“Morning,” Yoongi grumbled helping himself to some bacon from the plate in front of him, not even bothering to check whose it was. 
“You look like you had quite a morning,” Jin remarked, noticing the ghastly state of Yoongi’s face to which the later just shrugged.
“Woke up earlier than usual, was supposed to meet Namjoon 3 hours ago but the boy is nowhere to be found.”
“Oh no,” Jin laughed, “Not surprised but I hope he’s still alive.”
“Hyung said something about bringing a friend along,” Jungkook supplied from in front of him, “I think he might’ve been late because of that?”
“Oh yeah,” Jin agreed, “He mentioned something along the same lines to me too.”
“How come he didn’t say anything about this to me and yet I’m the one he called out at some ungodly hours in the morning and left to wait?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow.
“Awwww,” Taehyung cooed, “You look so cute when you sulk hyung.”
“I’m not cute,” Yoongi pouted crossing his arms, “I’m mad, very mad.”
“Very cute,” Jungkook agreed while Jin tried hard to stifle some laughter. 
“Also Yoongi 8’ O clock is not some ungodly hours in the morning,” Jin retorted.
“Shut up,” He scowled, then asked, “Anyway, who’s this person? Someone we know?”
“Not sure,” Jin said, “But apparently she was one of the exhibitors during the gallery week.”
“Oh?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, “ Someone we can recognise then.”
“No shit,” Taehyung and Jungkook bounced from next to Yoongi, their eyes glowing, “How come he didn’t introduce us that day?”
“Was it that artist who drew painted only the bamboo?” Jungkook asked his mouth stuffed with a load of bread and eggs.
“Or!” Taehyung continued, “Was it that really cool dude who used calligraphy as a medium of art?”
“I don’t really know,” Jin dismissed them, “He never mentioned anything but only said that she was a super shy person and super awkward in social situations. So be nice incase he actually brings her here.”
“Great!” Taehyung exclaimed, “We’ll get along plenty!” 
“If that’s the case, you might just scare her off Taehyung,” Yoongi remarked off handedly. 
“I’m offended!” Taehyung pouted, “I’ll be amazing! You just see! We’ll be best friends in no time!”
“Sure, sure.”
Their bickering was soon interrupted by a distant chime of a bell in the background, signalling the entry of new customers. 
“Oh! Namjoon hyung is here!” Jungkook exclaimed turning in the direction of the door. Soon, everyone whipped their heads towards the same. And sure enough, there Namjoon was casually walking toward their direction. His face broke into a sheepish smile upon meeting Yoongi’s gaze. His hand scratching the back of his head. A silent apology for making him wait for almost three hours. Yoongi shot daggers along his way.  And that was when he noticed you, a small petite figure walking timidly along Namjoon’s side. Your hand curling around one of Namjoon’s arms, your eyes nervously darting across the area. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite fathom. Like the whisperings of a memory long forgotten or an old tale lost in the depths of time. And then, somewhere at the back of his mind, an image flashed across his eyes. 
The familiar color of a faint blue swimming in the depths of pitch black.
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tarithenurse · 5 years
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Agent of Hope - 10
Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: All the usual and then add: referenced sexual abuse and torture (both physical and psychological). Not overly graphic, but it’s very angsty. A/N: As mentioned in a note earlier, this got really dark. Please read with caution. On a more happy note: thanks to all who’ve been reblogging and commenting! It means the world to me <3
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10 - A wrong Step
You’re moved often, sometimes by car and other times by train but apart from that, there’s not a lot to actually complain about considering you’re a prisoner of Hydra…and your ex. The food your keepers serve is decent, consisting mainly of water next to some sort of stew or porridge if lucky (stale bread if less fortunate). Not only is there always a relatively soft surface to sleep on, they even provide a musty blanket too which is enough to stay warm enough to prevent getting sick. Sometimes Brock interrogates you, trying to charm or guilt you into spilling the secrets you’ve learned about the Avengers or to explain what you can do, other times it’s one of his co-villains that takes the place of bad cop. They all end up screaming at you, though, because you keep quiet while pretending not to know anything. You talk back to Brock, deny that your actions were based on anything but coincidence and what you’d seen in the news…even when he threatens with letting the others take over for him.
“They won’t be kind,” he promises as he leans uncomfortably close to you, “they’ve got ways to make ya talk.”
Glaring at him, you shrug. “Won’t change what I say.”
“No?” Strong hands grab your shoulders so hard the bones in your joints grind against each other painfully – the man is healing unnaturally fast. “Ya’ll end up singing for us. For me.” The hatred in his smile is replaced by a twisted tenderness. “Ya used to hum when cooking for us, remember? When ya were sad…the one from Dumbo. I always knew when it’d been a bad day. Ya should be rehearsing that one now.”
Gods, you hate his guts. Detest the twinkle in his eyes as he grins even now, thinking he can scare you into submission or weaken you by reminiscing about the time spent together. Fuck you. Those days are gone, and nothing will bring the feelings of happiness back. No matter how desperately Brock tries to use the past as a way of getting under your skin, you won’t forget what has happened since. He has tried every day. The man has talked for ages about the dinners shared, the walks along avenues in the evening, the soft touches that used to leave you sighing with bliss in the mornings of lazy Sundays. Creep.
Forgetting to think, you spit in his face.
The punch leaves you wheezing for air as the room disappears in a haze and you try to hold down the stomach contents. Blinking tears away, you stare emptily at the ceiling, only slowly realizing that you must have been knocked onto the floor.
“Bitch.” The dark shape of Brock blocks the light above you as he kneels over you. The spit is still glistening on his face. “This will cost ya.”
…   Romanoff’s PoV   …
“This is my fault! I should’ve been there!” The stoicism of Happy is crumbling day by day, reaching a new low this afternoon.
Jarvis is good, old fashioned spy-work is better. And still neither have yielded any results yet which is setting all people present at the compound on edge to the point where no one dares speak louder than a careful mumble…especially near Nat.
She hasn’t, despite Sam’s worries, killed anyone or even threatened with hours of torture. However the spy has lost her signature composure, honed through decades of work in the hardest of businesses where there is no room for mistakes or softness. They can only watch as she paces the rooms of the Compound unless she’s tapping away angrily on a keyboard to gain access (legal or not) to mainframes, surveillance systems, anything potentially containing information on [Y/N]’s whereabouts.
“You were with Pepper as you’d been told to,” Stark comforts the distraught Head of Security slash friend, “don’t beat yourself up.”
“But –“
“Shut up!” The groan is louder than Natasha had intended but is as such quite efficient. Running a hand down her face, she tries to calm down. “None of you’ve done any wrong, okay? We knew there was a risk…I knew and still underestimated it. Now there’s nothing we can do about what has happened so let’s focus on what we can do.”
What is left? They’re already using their networks, cashing in favours from old acquaintances on both sides of the law, and running every shred of evidence in all the databases they can think of. Still, the trail is running cold now that it’s been days. Checking the clock above the wall where the date is displayed in bright blue, digital numbers, Natasha feels her guts tighten. Eight days, two hours, and 15 minutes. [Y/N], where are you?
A pling from Clint’s phone isn’t what makes her look. It’s the soft “ooh” as the archer and best friend sits straight, for once abandoning the leftover pizza from the night before.
…   Rumlow’s PoV   …
Bruises litter the skin of [Y/N], itching at his conscience like a mosquito bite.
Brock had used to run his fingers softly over the smooth surface and watch the tiny hairs rise as goosebumps erupted along the path he’d chosen. Little bumps of pleasure that he could smoothen with kisses that inevitably would grow hungry just like her sighs.
Now the sighs are replaced by guttural cries when his hands land on the love of his life. Oh, he still loves her, she just doesn’t see it right now. Doesn’t see why Hydra is important and that his own actions will bring them peace. A better world. A simpler world. [Y/N] will understand eventually, and then the bruises will fade away to leave room for pleasurable shivers.
Tilting her head, the scarred man dries away the salty tears, smearing away they clean paths they had created down her cheeks. “Shh, it’ll be ‘kay, baby,” he coos, pretending not to see how she cringes, “just tell me, okay? Tell me what ya’ve seen.”
The scared woman swallows her sobs before she answers with a slow and hollow voice. “No matter what you do…it won’t change my answer and still you wouldn’t believe me.” She still doesn’t meet his eyes.
“I wanna trust ya, I swear,” Brock promises. He means every single word. “We gonna get through this, we used to be so good together. I want that again…don’t ya?”
But [Y/N] hesitates. Anger flares through the would-be boyfriend so hot that he loses control. Her throat is soft and wiry under his palms even as it begins to spasm at the grip of his fingers. The words coming from her bluing lips don’t pass the barriers of rancor emboldened by the flickers of panic in [Y/E/C] eyes. Only as the orbs roll backwards does he let go, huddling down with an ear to the chest, nose buried in the warmth of the breast as he listens for the frantic heartbeat to regain its strength.
… Reader’s PoV   …
The scream that jolts you awake is raw and desperate, worse than the pain that has been blessedly absent for the longest time since you learned the truth. Until now. Rocking back and forth in the little bunk mixes with the natural roll from the ocean outside the hull of your current prison and soothes the panic as if you were a baby swaddled and safe in its mother’s arms.
Nothing could be further from the truth, though, and you hear the pounding of boots nearing. Breathe. The grey light of dawn blurs the horizon, taunting you with the impossibility of freedom. Breathe. The metal tumbler rolls as the door to your cell is unlocked. Breathe…don’t show him. There’s no squeak of hinges here on the ship, just a shift in the air to tell that the only way in and out has been opened to let in Brock.
“Morning, baby,” he drawls, voice almost perfect now that the last bandages are gone, “bad dreams?”
You know better than to ignore him or to flinch when he sits down and wraps you in an embrace that once would have been kind. It makes you want to scream and fight, to claw at his face even if the difference would be invisible with all the scars, but at least it would be better than the pitiful complacence that’s keeping you alive physically while grinding your soul to dust. And still, the warmth of Brock’s arms are soothing in a twisted sort of way because as long as he’s caring for you, there’s no new pain.
“Why don’tcha tell me what ya saw this time, huh?” His lips are soft now when he kisses your forehead.
I can’t. “It it was ju-ust a nigh-nightmare.” Calm down. Get control of you voice, girl. “Just a nightmare.”
The gentle caress on your back stop as the man sighs deeply. “Baby, I know when ya’re lying.” Strong fingers tangle in your hair and yank so hard your throat is exposed and you have no clear view of Brock’s face. “Where’s the honesty? The trust?”
This time it’s impossible to supress the shiver as he licks a stripe from clavicle to chin. He’s done this before: kisses, licks, touches. None of it wanted and still never crossing the line where you wouldn’t be able to supress it. Maybe that’s the point? To tiptoe the line as a show of power, that he could rape you but chooses not to. Maybe you’re supposed to be grateful, feel like you owe him. I don’t owe him shit. As if Brock can read your mind, he lays you down and settles heavily between your legs, his abdomen crushing against yours.
“Ya know,” he hums to your cleavage as he pulls at your dirty shirt, “the boys really want to get to know ya better…it’s just me stopping them.” He kisses away the fresh tears as his words remind you of what you saw in you vision. “But if ya don’t want to help me out…why should I help ya?”
Your skin crawls at the obvious threat. I could tell him…tell him something. Anything. “Please don’t,” you plead shrilly from fear, “I’ll tell you, I promise! Don’t let them near me!”
There’s a hesitation to Brock’s fondling, inviting you to go on, and you begin to make up a scenario right then and there about how Hydra will keep working in the shadows although all subgroups constantly are on the run from the Avengers, from governments, from a man with a ruined eye. Anyone!
“CIA, FBI,” you babble while trying to think of other agencies in the hopes of pleasing the man who’s staring down at you with renewed intensity, “more…much more…they’ll find some of y-your erm places and kill…kill Hydra people, but capture most alive and th–“
“Stop.” A finger rests on your lips, but you don’t dare to move to get rid of it. “The man with the eye.” Fuck. Breath sticks in your throat as you realize the mistake. “Ya mean Fury.”
“I don’t know!”
But you do and Brock can see it in your eyes. A grin spreads on his face, tugging at the scars until his right eye is almost hidden in the uneven mass of red and pink and tan. Tasha, please.
The redheaded hero isn’t there to save you as Brock claims the prize after having waited so long for you to mess up. No one intervenes as screams are pushed from your lungs with each snap of his hips that breaks down your will to fight together with the dams that kept the horrors contained in the back of your mind. There’s nobody to help you recover afterwards before they drag you into another room where you’re strapped into a chair with a headpiece full of wires to connect with your greased-up skull.
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One-Shot a Day, Day 3: Blizzard. RvB
Day 3: Blizzard. Wash, Tucker, and Junior took their yearly trip to a cabin for Christmas, and while they’re there, a blizzard moves in, trapping them indoors.
Wash, Tucker, and Junior had packed into Tucker’s small car, drove the five hour trip up the mountain, and settled into the cabin they stay in every Christmas break. The trip had been a yearly trip the father and son had taken every year since Junior had been tiny, two or three at oldest, and the blond, former spec-ops soldier had joined them for the first time three years previously after he and the boy’s father had started dating about six months prior.
Tucker pulls in the drive, throwing the car in park and cutting the engine. “Wash, Junior, wake up you two, we’re here.” Tucker opens his door, jogging up to the door, punching in the key code the renter gave him, unlocking the lockbox for the key, and opens the door to the cabin. As he turns around to head back and get some bags, Junior dashes past him, backpack on back and bag in hand, dashing up the stairs to the room he stays in. “I don’t know how he just… wakes up like that.” 
“Yeah, it takes you at least thirty minutes and a cup of coffee for you to have half that energy.” Wash grins down at him, dropping a kiss to his forehead before sliding past him to take their bags to the master bedroom across the hall from Junior's room. Tucker shakes his head, grinning, and walks back out to his car to grab a couple of the grocery bags they had gotten at the store down the mountain. 
"Junior, Wash, will y'all come help me with the groceries?" 
"Coming, dad!" Junior's voice comes from the direction of his room as Wash appears back at the top of the stairs. 
“Do you want to put stuff away while J and I carry it in?”
“Sounds good.” The trio set to work, Wash putting groceries in their appropriate spot as the father and son bring them in, ending their trips in by Wash coming out to carrying in the small Christmas tree they bring, Tucker grabbing the bags that have the wrapped presents, and Junior grabbing the backpack that holds Tucker’s old xbox and games.
“Are you two hungry yet?"
"Yeah!!"
"Sounds good. I'll get started on the pizzas, do you two want to set up the xbox?”
“Yeah! Wash, will you play the racing game with me?”
“Of course, bud. Let’s get it set up and start playing so we’re out of your dad’s way.” The blond drops his voice to a fake whisper, glancing at Tucker and grinning. “You know how he gets when we annoy him while he’s cooking.”
“Yeah, he gets super moody.” The boy grins back at Wash, laughing when his father throws a dish towel at them. 
Tucker gets to work rolling out their canned pizza dough, setting the oven to preheat, and grabbing all the other ingredients, curious as to what his son and boyfriend are quietly discussing in the living room as they carefully set up the game console. The living room grows louder and louder, the two yelling and exclaiming in both excitement and disappointment throughout the various races in the game, and Tucker leans against the counter smiling as he watches the two. 
“Hey, boys, have you noticed it’s starting to snow pretty hard out there?”
“Wow, that looks pretty serious. I thought I saw there was supposed to be some pretty heavy snow while we’re up here.” 
“Yeah, today and tomorrow mostly, it’s supposed to taper off and be fine by the time we head home next week.” Tucker plops down on the couch between the two. “Pizza should be ready in about 25 minutes, so I would suggest playing a couple more rounds and then deciding on what movie or show we’re gunna watch tonight.”
“Can we watch an episode of A Series of Unfortunate Events?”
“Fine with me.” 
After dinner and an episode of the show, Tucker reaches for the remote to hit ‘next episode’, curious again as to what his son and boyfriend are whispering about next to him. “Um… dad?” Junior’s voice is soft, a note of uncertainty in it, instantly setting the father on edge.
“What’s up, bud?” He purposefully keeping his tone light. 
“Can we talk for a minute?” His son glances at Wash, who gives him a small smile and nod of encouragement.
“Of course… What’s going on?” Tucker drops the pretense, eyebrows drawing together in confusion and concern, turning his full attention to his son, wondering why his boyfriend seems to know more about something that’s going on with him than he does.
“Well,” Junior glances at the floor, wiggling around a little, a nervous tick he’s had since he was a small child. “You and Wash have been together for a while now.”
“Yeah...”
“And Wash is moving in when his lease runs out next month.”
“Yeah?” 
“And, well… you’re my dad, but even though you aren’t married, Wash is kinda like my step-dad. And just ‘Wash’ doesn’t seem right anymore, so I wanted to start calling him something else. But I thought you might think you were being replaced. And so I asked Wash what he thought and he said I should talk to you.”
“Shit, J, there’s nothing to be stressed about. Come ‘ere.” Despite his age, the ten-year-old climbs into his father’s lap, curling into his open arms. “I’m so happy that you love Wash this much, and I don’t think I’m being replaced at all. I’m happy for you to start calling Wash something else. Do you have any names picked out?” 
“Well…” Junior glances up at his father, and then back to Wash who gives him another nod. “I was thinking ‘Papa Wash’? You’re dad or daddy so he can’t be either of those cause it would get confusing.”
“And you’re okay with this, babe?” Tucker looks across the couch to his boyfriend, eyebrow raised. 
“I am. J and I talked about it the other day when you worked late.”
“Then I guess you get to spend all week learning to call Wash a new name!” 
“I love you, daddy!” The boy throws his arms around Tucker’s neck, squeezing tight, before throwing himself across the couch to hug the blond. “And I love you, too, Papa Wash!” 
“And I love you, Junior.” 
“Well, I hate to ruin the moment, but we’re in for a lot of now tonight. Look outside, you two.”
“Now that’s a blizzard.” The three stand from the couch, walking over to the window, peering outside, barely able to see past the edge of the porch from the thick snowfall. 
“Let’s get some fires going in the fireplaces in case the power goes out overnight, I don’t want us to wake up freezing and have to start one then like I did the year before you started coming with us, Wash.”
“Good idea, these blizzards are no joke.”
The three set to work, absolutely exhausted by the time there are fires going in the living room and master bedroom, Junior’s room not having a fireplace, but the boy knowing he can sleep in his father and Wash’s room or the living room if it gets too cold in his room. Five hours after their talk, the three go to bed wiped out, but content, and when Junior asks to say goodnight to Wash alone so they can talk for a couple minutes, Tucker smiles brightly as he agrees, heading to their room to change into his pajamas, content and happy with the current calm of his life despite the white-out blizzard raging outside.
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