#I’m hoping to plant some flowers this week too
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Un-Actions, or Restriction of Activities
This is my first post in a series I’ll be making on how to increase biodiversity on a budget! I’m not an expert--just an enthusiast--but I hope something you find here helps!
There’s a good handful of ways you can help increase biodiversity in your yard that don’t require buying things--in fact, these may actually help you save money in the long run! They may seem small and simple, but every bit counts! Whether you can do these in totality, or just limit how often you do these actions, it’ll make a difference.
Not Mowing, or Mowing Less Often
Turf grass lawns are considered a monoculture, meaning they don’t provide much opportunity for insects to find habitat--so few other creatures find them enjoyable either. An expanse of turf grass is, in many ways, a barren wasteland in the eyes of wildlife--too exposed to cross, with few to no opportunities for food or shelter, leaving them exposed to blazing hot sun, freezing cold, or any predators that may be lurking nearby. A place to be avoided. The simple act of letting your grass grow unbothered gives a chance for wildflowers to grow, and for your grass to grow taller--providing more habitat for insects, which then provides more habitat to birds and other creatures that feed on said insects. Wildlife want nothing more than to skirt by unnoticed, so even leaving the grass tall along the edges of a fence or yard can help a little. Even restricting mowing to every other week, or at a higher blade setting, can be a huge help. If HOAs or city ordinances are fussy about lawn length in the front yard, you can likely still keep grass higher in the backyard. Or, you can create a ‘feature’ where grass is allowed to grow long in a specific area. If it looks purposeful, people are more likely to accept it. Not mowing under trees or close to shrubs not only leaves space for wildflowers to grow, but also means you don’t have to deal with mowing over bumpy roots and other difficulties. Cutting different areas at different times can be an option for letting grass grow long in some areas while still having available places for play and entertainment. I’ve seen some people plant flower bulbs when pulling up weeds, so in the future they'll bloom in early spring before mowing is usually necessary. This could be another fun way of adding biodiversity to a lawn without--or before you--begin mowing in spring.
Not worrying about mowing, or doing it less often, saves you in time, money, and energy. You won’t have to buy as much gasoline for your mower, and Saturday afternoons can be free to be enjoyed in other ways aside from being sticky and sweaty and covered in grass stains. In addition, you’ll likely be lowering your own carbon emissions!
If you do have to mow your lawn, I’ve got ways you can use your grass clippings to boost biodiversity later in the post series!
Not using pesticides, herbicides, fungicides, etc.
One of the next-biggest non-actions you can do asides from not mowing is using fewer fewer to no herbicides, fungicides, and pesticides in your yard. This’ll easily allow for more biodiversity. Allowing more insects and a wide array of plants to thrive will feed back into the entire food chain in your area. In addition, these types of chemicals have been tied to algae blooms, death of beneficial insects, harm to birds, fish, and even humans. Soil is supposed to be full of fungi, especially fungal mycelium that essentially acts as a network for plants to communicate, share nutrients, and support each other--fungicide kills that, and typically makes all other lawn problems even worse in a negative feedback loop. It may take awhile to see the benefits of avoiding these chemicals, but once you see it, it really is astounding.
However! I can’t lie and say that there haven’t been points where I needed to use pesticides at some points in my gardening journey. In these cases, try to use products that are organic--like diatomaceous earth, neem oil, etc--and use them accurately, correctly, and sparingly. Follow instructions on how to apply them safely and responsibly--for example, on non-windy days and during times when bees and other pollinators aren’t likely to be out and about. With some pests (read: oleander aphids, in my experience), a simple jetstream of water is enough to force them off the plant where they’ll be too weak to get back. Eventually, you should have a balanced enough ecosystem that no one insect pest causes a major issue with the work you’re doing to boost biodiversity.
If you can bear to, try handling pests manually. Squishing pest bugs in your hand is a pretty foolproof way to get rid of some problems, or spraying them with a mix of soap and water can do the trick on some insects. Alternatively, picking them off your plants and into a bucket of soapy water is also a valid option. You’ve heard of baptism by fire, now get ready for… baptism by soap?
But also! Try reconsidering what you consider a pest! Tomato hornworms are hated by gardeners, for devouring the foliage of beloved tomato, pepper, and potato plants. But killing the tomato and tobacco hornworm means getting rid of sphinx moths, also known as hummingbird or hawk moths! Hawk moths are vital to the survival of many native plants, and are sometimes even the only species that pollinates them. If you can bear to, consider sacrificing a few tomato plants, or growing a few extras, so we can continue having these beautiful moths for years to come. After all, they may not even do significant damage to the plants!
With that in mind, be friendly to your natural pest managers! Lacewings, ladybugs, praying mantises, wasps, birds, bats, and more will help manage pest populations in your environment! Encourage them by planting things they like, providing habitat, and leaving them be to do their work! Avoiding pesticides helps make your garden a livable environment for them, too!
Letting Weeds Grow
Many of the plants we know as 'weeds' are actually secondary succession species and native wildflowers. Milkweed was regarded as a noxious, annoying weed for a long time, and now people are actively trying to plant them after learning about the important role they play in our environments! Weeds are adapted to take over areas that have been cleared out of other plants after a disaster, so they're doing much of the initial work in making a habitat for other creatures. In fact, many of them will simply die back as the environment repairs itself.
An important thing to note is to please make sure that your ‘weeds’ are not invasive species. Work on learning how to identify native and invasive species in your area, and pull out what’s harmful to leave room for what’s good!
Don’t Rake (Or At Least Don’t Bag Your Leaves)
Many insects overwinter in piles of leaves that we often rake away and bag up in the fall and winter. By doing this, we are actively throwing away the biodiversity of our neighborhoods! If you can, leave the leaves where they fall!
If you do need to rake, put the leaves in places wildlife can still access it instead of bagging it up. Move your leaves into garden beds to serve as mulch, or along the edge of fences to rest while keeping egg cases and hiding bugs intact and free to release come spring.
Leave Snags Where They Are
Snags are dead trees/dead branches on living trees. They provide an important wildlife habitat--many birds nest in them, or use them to seek cover from rain, and many insects will also live in snags (making them an additional food source for birds and other creatures). Tree cavities are used as nests by hundreds of bird species in the US, and many mammals use them as well, such as bats, squirrels, raccoons, and sometimes even bears. Some trees form cavities while they’re still alive, but in conifers they’re more likely to form after death. Crevices between the trunk of a dead tree and its peeling bark provide sun protection for bats and amphibians, and leafless branches make great perching areas for birds of prey to hunt from above. The decaying wood is home to insects and fungi, who then feed birds, mammals, amphibians, and reptiles. Do check on the snags regularly to ensure they don’t serve a threat to any nearby structures, but whenever possible, leave them be!
Keep Your Cat Inside
If you have an outdoor cat, consider making the adjustments to have it be an indoor cat. If you have an indoor cat, keep it as an indoor cat. Free ranging cats impact biodiversity through predation, fear effects, competition for resources, disease, and more. Keeping little Mittens inside does a lot more to help than it may seem from the outside.
That’s the end of this post! My next one’s gonna be on things you can add to your space that aren’t directly related to growing plants. For now, I hope this advice helps! Feel free to reply with any questions, success stories, or anything you think I may have forgotten to add in!
#biodiversity#solarpunk#gardening#outdoor gardening#lawn culture#anti lawn culture#environmental stewardship#(i think that counts)#ani rambles#out of queue#the biodiversity saga#I know I said this in the masterpost already but another reminder some people aren't in a position to do all or some or even any of this#i have so far been unsuccessful in convincing my parents to not mow or rake because we live in an HOA neighborhood#but do what you can/are able to! it'll help!
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Garden of Secrets [38] - Gladiolus
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤
Summary: Strength builds in time.
Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of threat.
Word Count: 3100
Series Masterlist
Alright then.
Perhaps you owed Benedict an apology.
Ever since you had walked in on him and Madame Delacroix right after their escapade at her shop, you hadn’t stopped reminding him of his very frequent adventures with different ladies in the ton but in your defense, you had no idea the act was this…
Pleasurable.
Divine, even.
Yet, it raised one simple issue; the marriage bliss kept you too busy to pay attention to anything else. Honestly it didn’t feel like an issue at all to you -or to Benedict you were guessing- but you had lost the complete track of time in the last couple of days and you had to force yourself to think straight.
You put your shift on and walked to grab your dressing gown, your body aching in the most pleasant way and you bit down a smile as the memory of last night flashed through your mind, but then heard Benedict taking a deep breath, rising from his deep slumber.
“Y/N?” he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep and you looked over your shoulder, the sight making your heart skip a beat. He looked absolutely gorgeous, his hair all messy while he ran a hand over his glimmering blue eyes, the sunlight falling on his chiseled chest. You could feel the familiar desire sending sparks through your system but forced yourself to focus, shaking your head slightly.
“Good morning,” you said, dragging your gaze away from him to look around the room for the items of clothing of yours that Benedict had thrown around the room in his haste to get you out of them. “Did I wake you up?”
“No—what are you doing?”
“I’m leaving.”
His head shot up. “What?”
“For the day!” you added quickly and grabbed your corset off the floor. “I’m leaving for the day.”
“Why?”
“Benedict,” you said and motioned between you. “Perhaps it has escaped your notice but we have a problem.”
He tilted his head, confusion etched in his features. “A problem?” he repeated. “What problem?”
You tried to concentrate but it was rather hard when that fire was swirling in your lower stomach, the more you looked at him, the more you wanted to climb back in the bed and—
You cleared your throat, looking up at the ceiling, causing Benedict to look up as well.
“What’s happening?”
“If I look at you I’m going to get back in the bed so I refuse to.”
“How is that a bad thing?” he asked with a grin and you shot him a glance, then looked up at the ceiling again.
“You know, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we have a lovely ceiling.”
“My love, what are you talking about?”
You felt a smile warm your face, then grabbed your dress off the floor as well before turning to him, heaving a sigh.
“First of all, you were right about it being…divine,” you said, then narrowed your eyes. “Wipe that smile off your face.”
He held up his hands, gesturing surrender and you put your clothes on the sofa.
“That being said, do you not think we’re being a bit…fixated?”
“Fixated?”
“When was the last time you painted?”
“A week ago.”
“When was the last time you and I actually communicated with another person more than an hour without rushing to the nearest room?”
“There was the gala—”
“Gordon’s guest room.”
He hissed in a breath. “Right. Good point.”
“And I have a greenhouse,” you told him, putting your hands on your hips. “Ask me when the last time I’ve been there was.”
“…A week ago?”
“A week ago!”
“I mean Mr. Binsted is taking care of—”
Even you could hear the petulant tone in your voice; “It doesn’t matter, it’s my greenhouse!”
“Darling it’s not like it’s going anywhere—”
“Listen,” you cut him off. “I have a greenhouse with very rare plants. And flowers.”
“Mm hm.”
“Not to mention, I have the rarest flower in the world, in the aforementioned greenhouse.”
“I heard a thing or two about that, yeah.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re the love of my life,” you said, making a smile curl his lips, that softness apparent in his gaze again while you pointed at the window, stomping on your foot. “But my greenhouse!”
“Right.”
“It has my favorite flower in there!”
“Hasn’t escaped my notice my love,” he said with a grin, almost humoring you and you nodded your head.
“So that’s what we’re doing today—no, don’t get out of the bed until I’m away,” you stopped him as he swung his legs over the bed and you looked up at the ceiling. “Wait until I leave.”
“Why?”
“Because neither of us can be trusted,” you stated. “So we’re not to cross paths today.”
“The whole day?!” Benedict asked in shock and you flailed your arms.
“To repeat, we cannot be trusted apparently!” you said. “You—you take the studio side of the house and I’ll be in the greenhouse and we are going to be…calm.”
“Calm?”
“Yes, calm,” you said and heaved a deep sigh and turned your gaze to him again. “It’s alright. We can do this, I have faith in us.”
“I don’t.”
“Ben!”
“Shall I lie to you?” he asked with a small laugh and you tilted your head, narrowing your eyes again.
“I’m leaving,” you said. “See you tonight at the ball, not one second before.”
“Darling to repeat, we live in the same house—”
“We’ll meet there!” you said. “I mean it.”
“We’re going in different carriages?”
“Do you not remember what happened the last time we were in the same carriage?”
He gave you that lopsided grin you loved so much, making your stomach do a happy flip.
“Oh trust me, I do remember,” he said and you felt your cheeks burn, then you shook your head slightly and grabbed your clothes off the sofa.
“I’ll see you at the ball,” you said and walked through the door connecting his room to yours, painfully aware of the smile on your face.
*
It was as if you were in a happy dream and if that was the case, you never wanted to wake up. You were sure that it had been hours since you stepped foot into the greenhouse based on the sun, but you could swear it had only been minutes. It wasn’t until you heard a knock on the door that you snapped out of your haze and looked over your shoulder, your hands still in the pot.
“Josie?”
“Wow,” she said, looking around. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”
“No no,” you said, shaking your head and pulled your hands out of the pot to take off your gloves. “Welcome.”
“I mean you mentioned it the other day and I figured…” she said, motioning around. “This is impressive.”
“Look!” you turned around to grab the pot you had been working on and held it up, a bright smile on your face. “It’s a Queen of the Night Tulip!”
“Pretty.”
“And the one to your right is a Ghost Orchid, and—that’s Middlemist Red! My favorite!”
She forced a smile.
“You’re never leaving this place, are you?”
“Never,” you said with a laugh and walked to the next pot, which was a gladiolus flower. Josie took a deep breath.
“So,” she said. “She came to see me.”
“Hm?” you asked, looking at her again. “Who?”
She blinked a couple of times.
“Mother,” she said. “Mother came to see me. Are you alright?”
You could feel your heart dropping to your stomach, your happy mood getting dim like a sudden shadow on a sunny day but you pressed your lips together.
“Yeah,” you said. “Sorry I was just distracted. But none of us told them you were here, how did she…?”
“Must have heard from someone in the ton.”
“What did she say?”
“She uh… remember how she found those letters between me and Bess?”
“And threw them in the fire before father—” a bitter taste appeared in your mouth as you tried to shake off the memory. “Yes?”
“Well as it turns out she didn’t throw all of them in the fire,” she said. “There is one left, and she is threatening to show it to not only uncle but also the whole ton unless I give them money.”
You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning back to the shelf.
“God damn it,” you muttered. “So not only are they using Teddy as a leverage for more money from uncle, they’re also—”
“Using Bess and Andrew,” she finished your sentence for you. “Yes. I don’t care what happens to me if the ton hears, but I can’t see them get hurt Y/N.”
You nodded your head.
“Of course not,” you said, running a hand over your eyes. “No that’s—that’s not going to happen. Did you tell them?”
“They were outside when mother decided to pay the visit,” she said. “I’ll tell them when I get home. I just wanted you to know before anyone else, just in case.”
You heaved a sigh, then walked to pull her into a hug.
“Josie…”
“I’m fine,” she said almost mechanically even though she wrapped her arms around you to hold you tight. “You know me, I can handle mother and father.”
You bit inside your cheek and pulled back to look at her better, holding her hand to squeeze it in an assuring manner.
“I know,” you said, remembering how relieved you felt when Benedict told you the same thing. “But you don’t have to handle them alone.”
She tried to smile and took a shaky breath, then looked around.
“Well alright then,” she said. “Go ahead, tell me all about these flowers.”
*
By the time Josie left it was near evening, and though you had told Benedict you would be taking separate carriages, you were so desperate to talk to him that you had ended up changing your mind. He looked quite surprised to see you waiting for him by the carriage but he knew something was troubling you with one look at your face.
So you had spent the entire road to the ball telling him about what happened.
“Letters?” he asked as he helped you out of the carriage when it stopped in front of the Elwick house. You took his hand and stepped out, then placed your hand on his arm while you walked towards the house.
“Letters,” you said. “Josie eloped very soon after that because—well, you can imagine how mother and father reacted.”
Benedict clenched his jaw. “Unbelievable,” he said. “You know, I was thinking I should talk to your father again and this just proves I must.”
“The last time you talked, you punched him.”
“I don’t have any regrets over that.”
“Neither do I, I’m glad you did,” you said. “That being said, I’m not putting your wellbeing over him getting what he deserves, so no.”
You both entered the house and passed through the foyer, the music getting louder and louder as you approached the ballroom.
“Y/N—”
“No way,” you insisted. “I get that you’re angry at them, and trust me I’m angry as well. Me and Josie, but I told you before. My father is not worth your attention, let alone your fury.”
He reached to hold your hand, running his thumb over your skin as if trying to assure you and you offered him a small smile.
“I’m alright.”
“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?”
You heaved a sigh and shrugged your shoulders, catching the sight of Andrew out of the corner of your eye, Benedict following your gaze.
“Did she tell him?”
“She said she would—I just didn’t think mother would actually go to Josie’s house,” you said. “My parents didn’t even know she was back in the country, so to come up with that plan as soon as they found out she’s here… I knew they were evil, I just didn’t think they’d be that fast.”
Benedict’s head snapped up.
“Wait,” he said. “They didn’t know she was here?”
“No,” you said. “The last they heard, Josie was going to Spain with Andrew and Bess so I figure they still thought she was there. Even I didn’t know she was coming back until she arrived here, there is no way they had an inkling.”
Benedict’s brows furrowed as if he was in deep thought, then he raised your hand to press a kiss on it.
“Just give me one moment my love, I will be back,” he said and strode to Andrew, muttering something to him before Andrew nodded and they both walked away. You frowned in confusion but then someone touched your arm, making you turn to them.
“Lottie!”
“Oh thank God you’re here, you’re going to save me,” Lottie said, linking her arm with yours and pulling you to the foyer, making you let out a small laugh.
“What? What is happening?”
“Tony hasn’t arrived yet and everyone is asking me a lot of questions about the wedding that I don’t even know the answers to,” she said as you followed her through the foyer. “And my mama has been taken hostage by other mamas who want to be invited to the engagement ball that I haven’t even planned yet it seems, so you’re to be my savior. We’re going to the backyard.”
You repressed a laugh. “There might be people there as well, you know.”
“Fewer people who will not be as enthusiastic to ask me questions, I’m hoping.”
You hummed as you both stepped out of the house to the backyard. “If someone does approach, do you want me to threaten them?”
“Goodness no!” she said. “That would be very rude!”
“What if they are approaching you to ask you questions about the engagement ball you haven’t planned yet?”
She thought for a moment, her lips pulling into a pout as if she was torn between decisions.
“Don’t threaten them verbally, just glare at them please?”
“Understood.”
“I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m the happiest lady in the entire world but—” she huffed as you two sat down on a bench. “Everyone has something to ask and nobody leaves us alone anymore Y/N! With Tony, it’s as if everyone swore to…”
“Interrupt you?” you said with a grin and she looked abashed for a moment.
“…Yes.”
“So I’m guessing no other scandalous behavior has taken place?”
“Y/N!”
“Just a question,” you teased her and she heaved a tormented sigh.
“If only,” she sulked. “Everyone seems to watch us closer now that we’re engaged.”
“Tell Anthony patience is a virtue,” you said, trying to stop the smirk on your face and she nodded.
“I have.”
You let out a small laugh. “Lottie, you’re too sweet.”
“Thank you—how about you and Benny?” she asked and you blinked a couple of times, clearing your throat.
“Hm?”
“I mean no one has seen you on a social outing of the ton for almost a week,” she said. “Everyone has a lot of ideas about the reason.”
“Such as?”
“You’d tell me if you were with child, would you not?”
Your eyes widened, your breath getting caught in your throat.
“What?!” you asked. “No—I mean yes I would tell you but no Lottie, that’s not what is happening!”
“Good,” she said. “Because you see, I have many things I wish to shop for before your baby gets here—”
“That baby is nonexistent as we speak, Lottie.”
“And I’d like a pre-warning,” she said like she wasn’t listening and you scoffed.
“So that’s what the ton thinks?”
“Some of them,” she said. “Why haven’t you been attending outings then?”
You shifted your weight, trying to come up with an excuse but thankfully you saw Benedict approaching out of the corner of your eye.
“Oh look, Benedict is here!” you said, motioning at him and he gave you a smile.
“Charlie.”
“Benny, hello!”
“Anthony just arrived, he was looking for you,” Benedict said, pointing back at the house with his thumb and Lottie let out a breath.
“Oh thank God,” she said, standing up. “Benny, have you seen anyone asking him questions about our engagement ball?”
Benedict made a face. “Please stop reminding me you’re engaged to my brother, I’m still not completely alright with that idea.”
You raised your brows and Lottie rolled her eyes.
“You do realize that you will be the best man, do you not?” she asked as if teasing him, making him let out a whine.
“Charlie!”
“I’ll see you inside Y/N.”
“See you inside,” you said with a laugh and watched her walk away. Benedict heaved a sigh and sat beside you.
“So they’re actually going to get married then?”
“Seems like it,” you said, patting him on the arm as if trying to assure him. “Will you be alright?”
“Ask me again later,” Benedict said and stole a look at you. “How about you?”
“I’m alright with them getting married, I don’t know why you’re making it such a big issue—”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said and you paused for a moment, then nodded.
“Sure.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m fine, I just…” you let out a bitter laugh. “It’s rather surprising but it shouldn’t be. It’s just that, I’ve been so happy lately that I almost forgot they were here to cause trouble, does that make sense?”
“It absolutely does,” he said with that soft light in his eyes. “But it is going to be alright, I promise you.”
“What did you and Andrew talk about?” you asked, gazing up at him and he shrugged his shoulders.
“Nothing important, I just asked about your parents.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Benedict.”
“Yes my love?”
“That will not distract me,” you pointed at him while trying very hard to not let it distract you, making him chuckle.
“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” he assured you. “I’m not putting myself or anyone you care about in danger, I swear to you.”
You pursed your lips, then heaved a sigh and turned a little to face the backyard, putting your head on his shoulder. He entwined his fingers with yours, pressing a kiss on top of your head before burying his nose into your hair.
“Let’s stay here for a while?” you asked. “I like being alone with you even when we’re not…you know.”
A small laugh vibrated his chest. “Same here darling.”
You heaved a sigh, then frowned when the thought hit you. “But we’re still going to—”
“Way ahead of you, they have a library on the other side of the house.”
“Good,” you said, a small smirk curling your lips as you stole a look at him. “I happen to be an admirer of books.”
Chapter 39
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SOMETHING... | JTK
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader
Word Count: 10.6K
Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…
A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :)
Playlist
*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist
MINORS DNI
MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth.
The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy.
There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern.
He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all.
Professor Kiszka on the other hand…
When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man.
You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him.
3 Months Ago
The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad.
The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?
Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.
Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last.
Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…
“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone.
“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off.
You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears.
Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”
“Just for you.”
And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare.
The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather.
You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room.
The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway.
You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…
One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room.
It was empty.
The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work.
You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.
You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away.
Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever. A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.
“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway.
You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen.
You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover.
“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond.
He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level.
He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”
“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you.
“-Your favorite?” He asks.
You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry?
“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him.
You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point.
He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?”
You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite.
“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer.
He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.”
He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table.
“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously.
You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process.
“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort.
He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.”
Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.
“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”
He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat.
“You don’t approve?” He scoffs.
“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.”
“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”
You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber.
“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly.
You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart.
He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger.
“Please, call me Jacob.”
You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips.
“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”
You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake.
His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand.
“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…”
You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”
He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings.
“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”
You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.
“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him.
Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite.
Present
In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve.
Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try.
Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress.
You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items.
One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation.
“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so?
“You look like a pirate.” You responded.
A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked.
His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth.
When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.
You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag.
He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there?
This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.
“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”
Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement.
“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago.
“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.
He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…”
You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”
He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”
Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave.
“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.”
The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up.
You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him.
He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you.
You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him.
You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.”
He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.”
You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him.
You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.
A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard.
“Hey.” He prods.
You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands.
“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption.
“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues.
No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…
You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.”
He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.”
Two Hours Later
Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.
The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?
You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction.
You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product.
Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too.
Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance.
Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it.
Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello.
You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.
You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript.
You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old.
You press play and lower the needle onto the music.
Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold.
Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…
You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity.
You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete.
You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important…
The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…
You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar.
The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels.
Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.”
He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass. He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face.
You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily.
“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter.
You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before.
“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”
“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?”
You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you.
He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..”
You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters.
“Oh, dear god.” You sigh.
“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”
“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.”
He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.
“Want to know something funny?” He questions.
You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue.
“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”
You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot.
“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.”
He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.”
Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care?
“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-”
“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”
He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him.
“Did I offend you?” You ask.
“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.”
“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate.
“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...”
You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.
“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.”
He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down.
He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks.
Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you.
No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you.
The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page.
“See this paragraph here?” He questions.
You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement
You need to focus.
You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?”
He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.”
You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost.
“What…? What problem?”
You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist.
He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ”
You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside.
You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible.
“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”
Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from.
“Professor-” You initiate.
“Jacob.” He replies.
“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.”
He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”
You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all…
Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.
You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin.
“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-”
“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”
You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand.
“You… You were?” He searches for the answer.
“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off.
“But?” He inquires.
You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber.
“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.”
Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression.
“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.
You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction.
“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said.
“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you.
You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in.
“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”
“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”
He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.”
You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?”
“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.”
He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.
“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”
“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone
You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared.
“How rough are we talking…” You prod.
The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.”
You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private.
You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before…
Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting.
His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles.
“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”
You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest.
His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language.
He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood.
“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”
“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter.
You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your…
His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.”
“Yes-”
Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck.
His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing.
You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect.
His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you.
He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off.
“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked.
You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from.
“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down.
“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.
He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.
“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?”
You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”
He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”
Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments.
“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice.
He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely.
“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.”
The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on.
He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion.
“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.”
You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own.
His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses.
“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”
His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him.
“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…”
Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease.
His kisses start to graze you closer to your…
He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means.
“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.”
He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm.
“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”
“Good girl.”
Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you.
Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-”
Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to.
His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder.
“Green?” He asks, looking for permission.
You nodded your head ferociously
You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop.
“Words.” He barked.
Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…”
“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.
“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg.
The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again.
He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding.
Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room.
“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”
You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you.
His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks.
“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?”
Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now.
“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”
Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you.
He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity.
“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”
He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once.
He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending. It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more.
You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you.
Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation.
He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end.
Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness…
He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped…
Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen.
A knock at the classroom door.
“Hello?” Someone called out.
There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew.
“Everything okay in here Kiszka?”
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”
#jake kiszka#greta van smut#gvf fic#gvf smut#jake kiskza x reader#jtk x reader#jake gvf#professor fic#gvf#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka fanfic#jake kiszka smut#jake kiszka gvf#jake kiszka series#jake kiszka angst#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet smut
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"You deserve all the flowers."
Relationship: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader
Drabble Summary: Peter brings you flowers every night and you're just not sure why.
Word Count: 740
A/N: what?? what??? a new drabble - a FRESHLY written drabble? i got so excited last night when I finally had the motivation/inspiration to write. this is over on the word count for my usual drabbles but it's under 1k so i think it still counts lmao i hope you enjoy!!
Masterlist
You swore one of these days Peter was going to turn your apartment into a full-blown greenhouse. You didn’t know how it started or why he always showed up with flowers but your kitchen was crowded with vases and it was slowly spilling over into your living room.
And now here Peter, still in his Spider-Man suit, was once again entering your apartment through your fire escape window while gripping another bouquet. He brought you daisies this time. They were very fragrant; their scent filled your bedroom immediately.
"Hi, sweetheart," Peter muttered after he pulled off his mask. "I picked these up for you tonight. I hope they’re okay, I don’t think I’ve gotten you daisies in a while."
You couldn’t help but smile as you took the fresh flowers from him. "Thank you, Peter. They’re lovely," you replied. He had most certainly just gotten you daisies last week but you weren’t going to mention it. That bunch was in your kitchen, blooming and bright.
Peter planted a kiss on your cheek before shuffling aside your open textbooks and flopping on his unofficial official side of your bed. You were just finishing up studying for your college midterms when he came in.
You took in Peter’s exhausted form. He didn’t look too beat up, just a bit tired, which put you at ease. You weren’t a stranger to this situation. Peter would come to your apartment following his patrol, flowers in hand, ready to talk about nothing and everything before you both inevitably drifted off to sleep. But you’d never go to bed before the flowers were taken care of. Even though Peter brought you a plethora of them—so much so you were having to seriously get creative with the vases—each one melted your heart. Each one was special and deserved proper attention.
You cared for them because he cared enough to get them. But you never quite understood why it was so consistent. Did other girls want this many flowers?
"What were you working on?" Peter asked as he flipped through one of your textbooks. You watched his eyes skim the page.
"Philosophy," you answered, but it wasn’t like you had to. "I have a midterm coming up."
"Oh, yeah, we’re at that time of the year," he sighed. "Do you want me to quiz you on anything tonight?"
You shook your head and gently pulled the book from his hands. You closed the cover and shut your notebooks all while still coddling the bouquet of daisies. "Peter, can I ask you something?"
"Sure," he responded, his voice very level. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, of course," you assured him, "I just wanted to ask about the flowers."
He frowned. "The flowers?"
You nodded as you fiddled with the stems of the daisies. "They’re really beautiful and so thoughtful of you, it’s just…"
"What?" Peter gulped. "Do you not like them?"
"No," you insisted, "no, that’s not it at all. I love them so much. But I’m just curious… Why? Why do you bring me flowers every night?"
Your sweet boyfriend let out a sigh of relief at your question. "That’s what that big build-up was for?" He teased.
Your cheeks grew warm. "My apartment is drowning in flowers, Peter."
"There’s still room," he said with a shrug. "But to answer your question I… I guess it gives me something to focus on, a goal to have at the end of the night. It’s not always crazy out there but there’s been some things that have gotten to me and it’s just part of what keeps me going. I gotta protect the great people of this city and I gotta bring you flowers." Peter sighed. "I love you so much, sweetheart, and you deserve all the flowers."
An ache stabbed its way through your chest. Your grip on the flowers tightened as a tear threatened to spill out. Your reaction felt a little dramatic but your boyfriend’s words were just what you needed to hear.
"Oh, honey…" You nearly cried as you leaned over to place a kiss on his lips. He was also almost crying but still happily reciprocated the affection.
Peter sniffled. "I’m sorry I’ve been drowning you in flowers."
You shook your head and let out a breathy laugh. "I don’t mind anymore. Please drown me in flowers forever, babe."
"Forever," Peter repeated with a smile. "Absolutely. Forever. I can do forever."
#peter parker x you#peter parker one shot#peter parker fluff#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm peter x you#spiderman x reader#spiderman one shot#spider man x reader#spider man x you#spider man x y/n#marvel one shot#peter parker drabble#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#mcu fanfiction#mcu fic#writing*
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What about Jaime liking someone who works at/owns a flower shop so he keeps making excuses to come in and get flowers? Richmond is real confused about why he’s giving away so many bouquets all of the sudden
(Ps I love love love your work! I’ve got it so I get an alert whenever you post because of how much I love it!)
this one turned out SO CUTE I hope you like it!
wishing on every one
You know you’re fucked as soon as he walks through the door of your shop.
Then he tells you he’s looking for flowers for his mum who’s visiting him for the first time, and you know you’re extra fucked.
He’s absolutely gorgeous, especially in the soft light streaming through your flower shop windows, framed by the vibrant hues of the plants lining the shelves.
Then he says, “I’m Jamie,” peers at your name tag, and tells you that you have a lovely name. You’re blushing the entire time you lead him around the shop, answering each one of his questions as best you can without stuttering. He cracks jokes, picks out a nice bunch, and leaves you one flower for yourself on his way out.
And then, the next week, he comes back.
Jamie Tartt, AFC Richmond’s star footballer, comes back to your shop and flirts with you again.
Of course you know who he his, you knew the moment he stepped through the door. You live in Richmond after all, and you agree with the great Dani Rojas that here, football is life. It’s just hard to believe that your favorite footballer is back in your tiny little store and maybe sort of kinda definitely flirting with you.
You don’t let it get to your head (much). It’s Jamie Tartt, you’ve seen him on Lust Conquers All. To him, flirting is like breathing. You also don’t tell anyone, although you feel like you’re bursting inside. Your flat mate notes that you’re smiling more and that you always seem to be humming, and could you please maybe be careful when you’re skipping around because she just mopped the floor and doesn’t want you to slip.
But Jamie Tartt keeps coming back; first once a week, then twice, then about every other day. He follows you around as you help him choose flowers for all kinds of occasions, and then he’a gone again, leaving you to wonder which time will be the last.
—
At Nelson Road, things are in chaos.
Ok, maybe chaos is too strong a word. Things are… out of the ordinary.
Well, but things have been out of the ordinary ever since Ted Lasso showed up.
Things are… weird. Yeah, that’s a good word. They’re weird. And “they,” refers to Jamie.
It starts off simple enough. It's Sam’s birthday, so Jamie shows up with some flowers. He heard Sam say they were his favorites, so it makes sense that he’d bring them. No one notices anything.
The next week, he’s brought some for Ms. Welton.
“It’s for all the shit you do that we don’t know about,” he explains. “Didn’t want you to think we didn’t notice.”
Rebecca doesn’t comment on the double negative, just smiles and says, “Thank you, Jamie,” as Keeley sits forward on the couch in a slight state of shock. The Jamie she was with had never done something like that for her romantically, and here he is doing it platonically. Holy shit, he really has changed.
Rebecca also doesn’t take the flowers to mean something they don’t. She knows that the team looks to her with the same respect they would afford an older sister or even a mother (although she is not old enough). Strangely, she doesn’t mind. It makes her feel loved in a way she’s unused to, and the flowers from Jamie hang upside down on her wall so they can be immortalized.
Barely a week after that, he’s gotten some for Keeley. “It’s to make up for the ones I never got you,” he tells her. They’re all bright pink with fluffy petals. Keeley wraps her arms around Jamie with a squeal of delight. Roy grunts angrily, so Jamie pulls out a bunch of dark red and black flowers. “Didn’t leave you out, grandad,” he grins as Roy pretends to hate the bouquet. But even he isn’t cold-hearted enough to hate flowers.
Suddenly, people are getting flowers every other day. It’s become Jamie’s thing. Ted gets some sunflowers when he seems like he’s missing home a little extra. Will gets a bunch of sweet-smelling flowers that Jamie doesn’t know the name of, but he knows that purple one’s lavender because he remembers how you told him it reminded you of growing up. Dani gets a bundle of tulips and it almost makes him pass out from excitement, but luckily Isaac is there to catch him.
Dani is firmly seated on the bench in the locker room and Jan Maas has removed all tulips except one, and now Isaac has the chance to turn to Jamie and ask the question that’s on everyone’s mind.
“What gives, bruv?”
Those three words make Jamie turn bright red, but he shrugs it off with a laugh.
“What, can’t get me best mates flowers?”
“It is a little better than the PS5s,” Richard says. There’s a chorus of agreement, much to the surprise of Coach Beard.
Jamie thinks he’s in the clear and his face isn’t red anymore but then Dani says, “Jamie Tartt, why did you decide to give us flowers and not some other expensive gaming device?” and Jamie knows he’s completely and utterly fucked. He did not think this far. He has no excuse, no lie, so what comes out of his mouth is, “The flower shop girl’s fit,” and then the locker room completely descends into chaos.
The boys are firing questions at Jamie faster than he can even understand them, and Ted’s just laughing at the pure pandemonium. He remembers similar moments when coaching other football teams, American ones, and the good feeling that comes along with “boys being boys,” in the way the phrase was originally intended.
All pertinent information is successfully extracted from Jamie before the team heads home, except your name and which flower shop it is. Colin says that’s the most important bit, but Jamie refuses to tell them more than the fact that your laugh makes the sun shine brighter. Isaac nods thoughtfully and Roy shakes his head, but it’s with a fondness he reserves only for his team.
It could be any shop, really. There are conversations across the parking lot of the best way to figure out which one it is and Jamie’s getting nervous when he hears Ted’s voice call his name.
He turns, and Ted hurries over to where Jamie’s car is parked.
He carefully places a hand on Jamie’s shoulder (softly, unlike the crushing grip of his father) and looks Jamie straight in the eye.
“Jamie, life’s too short to beat around the bush. You like her. I think it would be best if you rose to the occasion and just asked her out. I be-leaf in you, son. You just gotta get clover it and do what you gotta do.”
Jamie doesn’t pick on the flower puns until about the third one. He’s laughing a little bit and Ted is too, all while regarding Jamie with a soft look that Jamie always wished his father would give him. Ted pulls Jamie in for a hug and says, “In all seriousness man, we’re rooting for you.”
Jamie gives him a look, which makes Ted hold up his hands in defense. “Alright, alright, I’m done,” he says. “For now.” Then he winks and headed to meet Coach Beard.
—
It’s the middle of the afternoon when the bell on your door jingles, and you look up from the register hoping to see Jamie.
Instead, you see a middle-aged man with a mustache smiling at you.
He says, “Howdy,” in a way that is so very American, that you can’t help but break into a wide smile.
“Hi!” you reply, “How can I help you?”
“My name’s Ted Lasso,” he says walking toward you. “I coach football here in Richmond.”
You’re still grinning. “I know who you are, Coach Lasso. I’m a big Richmond supporter. Have been since I was a kid.”
“Just Ted is fine,” says Just Ted. “I usually don’t like to introduce myself along with my job title because it makes me seem all uppity, but I thought it might make more sense if I did.”
You scrunch your nose in confusion so Ted says, “You were expecting to see Jamie today, is that right?”
You nod. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Jamie’s coach is in your flower shop and he knows that you like him and he’s probably going to tell you you can never see Jamie again because that’s the only logical reason he’s here, right? Maybe Jamie’s been skipping practice to be here with you and that all has to end now because football is life and you of all people should know that. Shit.
Ted must be able to see the panic on your face because he shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry darlin’, it ain’t anything bad. I’m only here to let you know that boy’s got it down bad for you.”
Wait, what?
“Oh,” you reply.
“Yeah, oh,” Ted chuckles. “Why’d you think he was here all the time?”
“I- I don’t know,” you say. “He flirts with everyone. I’m nothing extra special.”
Ted shakes his head again. “There’s where you’re wrong. You’re somethin’ extra special. Did you know I found you based on the way Jamie talked about you alone? He didn’t even give your name, but I’ve been in here once or twice myself and I must say, he was right when he said the sun shines a little brighter when you smile. I figured it had to be you the moment he said that.”
You’re smiling again. Jamie said that about you? To his coach?
Ted’s talking again. “Listen,” he says, a little more serious, “Jamie’s like a son to me. And sometimes dads need to give their sons a little push so they can get rid of their training wheels and just go for it, you know what I mean?”
You’re at a loss but Ted just grins. “I got here exactly three minutes before the boys take a break for lunch, which means that Jamie should be in here-” the bell at the door jingles “-right about now.”
“Coach?” Jamie asks, looking very adorable and very confused. “What’re you doing here?”
Ted shrugs. “Sometimes dads gotta take things into their own hands. Give you a little extra boost, as it were. Figured you’d be in here forever before you got the guts to make a move and by then Nelson Road would be completely overrun by flowers. Not that that’s a bad thing,” he says with a glance to you. “Anyway. I’ll be on my merry little way. Beard’s saving me a seat at our favorite lunch spot.”
Ted waves a two finger goodbye and pats Jamie on the shoulder as he heads out the door, bell ringing behind him.
“So,” you say, making your way around the counter over to Jamie.
“So…” he replies, looking down at you.
You take his hand. “Heard from a reliable source that you have a crush on me.”
Jamie grins. “Ain’t a crush babe, I’m a grown lad. Think it’s somethin’ a little more real.”
“Uh huh,” you say, smiling back at him. “Well it just so happens that I also have a crush on you as well as a thirty-minute lunch break that starts right about now…”
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt#ted lasso
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{She Gets The Flowers, Right?} Reader x Lucien {Pt.2}
Welp. Here we are. Didn't know this was gonna happen. I had ZERO INTENTIONS of writing a part two but I basically got cyber bullied into making another so here ya go fuckers. Someone literally threatened to stop taking their meds so to whoever that was I hope you get to keep your kidney! Enjoy! This part is inspired by this song.
Word Count: 6,111
Warnings: ANGST (yall thought you’re gonna get a happy ending? HAHAHAH) Some pretty negative self talk.
Tagging: @bubybubsters @cyrygher @thelov3lybookworm @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @anuttellaa @lookingforamissingpage @thehighlordishere @crazylokonugget
Summary: In the days and weeks that follow your downfall with Lucien, he has no fucking clue how to go about life without you. He can’t cope. And he desperately wants to fix everything with you.
~~~~~~~
LUCIEN’S POV
I have made the biggest mistake of my entire life. I thought that would be reserved for not being able to protect Jesminda. No. This… this is… I don’t even know.
I’m just standing on the sidewalk, staring at our- her home. At the rustic, auburn door we painted. At its brass knob, at the rusty, creaking hinges that would ring through the house when someone came in. At the little potted plant in the corner, the vines spilling out of it.
I’ll never be back here again.
I’ll never get to hear her laugh.
I’ll never get to taste her new recipes.
I will never be able to take all that I said back. That is the most haunting feeling of it all.
I’m an awful person. After all she’s done for me. After saving my life– on more than one occasion– I went and did nothing in return. I gave her nothing for her endless kindness. All I was capable of doing was destroying the one person in my life who has given me everything I’ve ever wanted.
Unconditionally. She always loved me unconditionally. How could I have been so blind and naive to it? How did I never see it?
Gods every single time she made me something to eat, a recipe to try… she was basically shoving the bond in my face, hoping I would see it. And I never ever considered it. I was so lost in Elain. Lost in the fact that I finally had feelings for someone after Jesminda… Not once did I think it could be Yn.
I don’t deserve her. I never did. I was a bitter, rotten shell of a man when she met me. She dragged me by the arms to her house to fix me. She thought I was worthy of being saved when my own father thought the opposite. Yn put me back together. She made me who I am. And this is the thanks I give her?
Elain has said all of ten sentences to me in the past year. I haven’t been able to do anything but replay every single one of them in my head. A thousand times– a hundred thousand times. I wish I couldn’t. It’s exhausting. Constantly thinking of her. But I don’t have a choice.
I like the feeling of being able to feel again. But at the cost of Yn? At the complete sacrifice of all I’ve known for the past century? My rock? My best friend? Nothing is worth more.
But it is far too late to do anything about it. I’ve lost her.
I want her back.
Yn did things to me that no one else could. She just seemed to know when things were wrong. She always knows what to say, when to say it, and how. She never tells you what you want to hear, it’s always what you need. She is the most well rounded person I’ve ever met. She’s never afraid to feel her emotions.
I envy that skill.
I’ve always hid my feelings deep down. It took years to decipher them again. But it was Yn who made me do it. She always fought for me, fought me for me. Yn never let me do it alone. Refused to, actually. Was there every step of the way and never told me I was taking too long or wasting her time.
I get it now.
And there is nothing I can do. I have nowhere to go. Tears scald my eyes as I trudge down the little path that we beat into the grass. Day in and day out.
I remember when we picked this place. We had only been in Velaris for a week or two when we stumbled across it. It was run down and needed a new roof. As a thank you for keeping Feyre safe on our journey across the Courts, Rhysand gifted it to us. Complete with a new roof, new furniture, a new kitchen for Yn to cook in. And he let us be. Well, let her be. I still had my debts to pay off.
And then I met Elain and… fuck. Everything went to shit after that.
There is no way of processing all of these emotions at once. These very real feelings I still have for Elain. And these all-of-a-sudden very fucking real feelings I now have for Yn. It’s how I imagine imploding feels like. My body wants to cave into itself and never fold back out.
I pray to the Cauldron that I do self destruct. This feeling, a mixture between irrational rage and betrayal… I don’t wish it upon another living soul. And Gods know I’d sell mine to change everything I’ve just done.
I don’t even know how I ended up at the Town House. All of a sudden I was just standing in front of it. I normally resent coming here, but for some reason I was relieved to see the bricks and busted up cobblestone sidewalk. Maybe no one would be here; Rhys was more often than not at the River House with Feyre and Nyx, indulging in the life of parenthood. Nesta and Cassian were probably somewhere in the House of Wind with Elain, Mor at Rita’s, Amren with Varian, and who the hell knows where Azriel is.
I can’t wait to be alone to scream.
Fuck, the door is locked. Of course the door is locked, no one’s here. It takes every bit of control in my shiver-ridden body to not rip the door off its hinges. And it takes even more control to not collapse against the door and break down for the whole street to see.
The lock clicks and the door opens.
I force myself to appear relaxed. I wipe my tears and brush away my loose strands of hair. No use. My face is probably as red as the burning self hatred inside my twisted heart.
“What are you doing here Lucien?” The High Lord asks.
I gulp. Of all the people, it had to be him? At least it’s not Azriel, I think. I might hate him more than I hate myself. For actually getting Elain’s attention. Yn was right, I am selfish. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were in.”
“Did you leave something?” I don’t move, and I stay deathly still. Rhys looks me head to toe, and I know he can scent me from a mile away. “Lucien, what the fuck did you do?”
“Stay the fuck out of my head,” I snarled, pointing a finger at his chest.
“I don’t need to read your thoughts. Your face says it all.” Rhys crosses his arms over his chest, “Look, we’ve all told you that Elain is hard to reach these days. She isn’t worth-”
“This… this doesn’t have anything to do with Elain.” I lied. He seemed to know it. “Can I just come in?”
Rhys just steps aside, shutting the door behind me. “I don’t really have time for-”
“I fucked up.”
“Clearly.”
“Rhysand,” I said. So full of disgust. He looked at me with a blank expression. One I have seen too many times to not know what comes next. I eased up my tone. “Is anyone else here?”
“No,” he answers, moving around me and heading into a study on the other side of the living room.
I can’t help but think of how we all gathered in that living room a few months ago for Solstice. Exchanging gifts and drinks and smiles and stories. I vividly remember making Yn laugh so hard she tipped her head over the arm of the couch, sending her wine tumbling to the ground. The stain still on the small rug almost makes me smile, and it almost makes me burst into tears.
“I ruined everything in my life. Yn’s gone.” I could feel the air freeze around me. “Not like, gone gone but she’s… I don’t think I’ll ever be seeing her again.”
“So this is because of Elain.”
I bit my tongue so hard I thought I’d bite it off completely. But I sighed, the tears coming with it. “Yes.” A really long pause. “She told me I’m-”
“You’re Yn’s mate?”
“Yes.”
“And you never knew because you were so focused on Elain.”
“Is that supposed to be a question?”
“It was, but you just gave me your answer,” Rhys sat. “Do you want me to keep guessing or are you going to tell me what happened?”
I took the biggest breath I could, steading my words. “I missed the opening of her restaurant because I was with Elain.”
Rhysand looked at me with such revulsion that I thought he might put me through a wall. Those wicked, violet eyes could’ve boiled my bones. For a split second I wished he would. I could tell he wanted to say something, but I don’t think there were enough words in the world for how much of an awful person I was.
“There are things in this world that we sacrifice in this world Lucien,” Rhys said.
Hesitantly, “I know.”
“And Yn gave up the biggest of them all. She shut her mouth to let you be happy. She did what I did for Feyre until she realized what situation she was in. You are one spineless bastard for doing anything but giving your life to her.”
“I know.”
“Have you any idea what you’ve done to her? She gave you everything you could ever ask for. From the moment the two of you stepped in my Court I could tell she only had eyes for you. When you are in the room you’re the only one she looks at. How could you have not known?”
“I don’t know…”
“Yes, you do.”
I plunged my nails into my palms. “For Cauldron's sake Rhysand of course I know.”
“Then why did you continue to ignore Yn?”
“Because I couldn’t ever let myself think a female like her would like such a broken, dismantled and lost soul like mine.” Rhysand stared at me. “When Yn pulled me from the border to fix me, she spent every waking moment of her life stringing my mind and body into one piece. If I let myself think for even a second that it was anything other than kindness, I would’ve gone mad.”
“Would it have been so terrible to love her?”
“I’ve always loved her. I just never thought I’d be allowed to love her the way she loves me.”
“Because of Elain?”
“Because of Elain.”
Rhys blew out a breath, sitting down on the corner of his desk. “So, let me see if I have all of this correct. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for Yn because you thought you were unworthy. Instead, you sabotaged both of your happiness for Elain simply because she was your mate and you just wanted to feel something?”
“It sounds so much more fucked when you say it outloud.” I rubbed my hands over my tired, burning eyes. “And it’s not just because she’s my mate, Rhys. I genuinely like her. She’s… she has the potential to be so sweet. I’ve seen glimpses of it, heard stories from Feyre and Nesta. Why won’t she let me see?”
“You are still clueless, aren’t you?” He scoffed. “Here you are, a ruined man because you drove away your best friend, and you’re still worried about someone who doesn’t want you. Pathetic. You are a selfish son of a bitch.”
“I can’t just ignore Elain. It’s impossible to think of anything else but her and how I can help her.”
“Lucien,” Rhysand stopped me from going on another tangent. “Maybe start considering that she doesn’t want you.”
“What?” My lip trembled. “N-No she… we have a bond. It’s there she just needs time. I’m her mate, she’ll want one eventually.”
“Just like Yn will want one?” His eyes were as viscous as the tone of his voice. “You are doing the same thing to Yn that Elain is doing to you. You understand how that feels. Now imagine that Elain was the one you found on the border of the Spring Court and you spent decades nursing her mind back into her body. Recreating her personality and passions. Wouldn’t you be a little fucking irate if she started showing interest in another male after all you did for her?”
I froze.
This was so much deeper than I ever thought it could be. But I could see it. Bringing Elain back to herself all for it to be thrown away by another male. Azriel filled that roll, and I was filled with raw fury at the mere thought of that happening.
“So now you see what Yn has been dealing with. And Gods, Lucien, she has been dealing with it for a long while. What you did was wrong, unjust, and unfair. And for you to be with Elain on the day of her grand opening, where all of us just were, is… that may be unforgivable.”
“I don’t deserve to be forgiven for what I’ve just done…”
My shoulder hunch, and my chest cracks. I am a bleeding mess of tears. I can barely stand as I openly sob in front of Rhys. I’m surprised when he shoves a chair under me instead of letting me crumble to the floor in my self induced agony. And I’m even more surprised when he puts a hand on my shoulder.
It’s Yn. It’s always been Yn. There is nothing in this world that can compare to her or her kindness or her love. What a fool I have been to not take the hand that was given me. What a selfish, self-serving waste of a man I have been to her.
I can’t take it. I have to have her back. I have to fix this. I have to. I have to. I have to.
I stand.
“Woah, what are you doing?” Rhys tried to get me to sit down.
“Yn- I have to fix this with Yn-”
“No,” Rhys slams me back into the chair. “You are not going to march back over there.”
“I have to,” I yelled. “I can’t let her kick me out without her knowing that I’m sorry. That I’ll do anything she wants me to to win her back. I can’t be without her, I need her.”
“She kicked you out?” I nodded. “You’re not going anywhere. She clearly doesn’t want to see you. Nothing you could say to her would suffice. Especially right now. She needs time. She needs space. If I find out that you go back to your- her house, I’ll drop you back in the Spring Court, do you understand me?”
I nod viciously.
“Good,” Rhys let out a heavy breath. “You can have your old room back. Nothing in it but a few storage boxes. Everything is otherwise untouched.”
Great. My old memories to haunt me. Just what I needed. For a very short week we stayed here. Yn’s room was right across from mine. Just another reminder of everything that’s happened between now and then.
I slump in the seat, letting tears trickle down my nose and onto my knee. Watching them evaporate and dry, just for the material to be soaked again. “I’m so sorry Yn…”
I heard Rhys whirl around, and I could feel the tension across the room. He probably thinks I’m mad. I might as well be.
More footsteps sounded than people in the house and Cassian walked in the room. Luckily I was facing away from him. “Don’t tell me he’s a part of our special detachment.”
I rolled my eyes. Cassian, ever the charming.
“No, he’s… well, he’ll be living here for a little while.”
“Do I wanna know?”
“It’s none of your business,” I snapped. No one spoke. I sighed for what felt like the billionth time today. “Sorry.”
“What happened?” Cassian asked, coming to stand next to me, his body reeking of sweat and dirt. All I had to do was lift my head and I think he understood enough. That or Rhys told him. “I won’t say anything cause I’ll probably just make it worse.”
“Probably,” Rhys nodded.
“Probably.” My eyes burned, so did my skin. “I have to get all my stuff out tomorrow. She told me to.”
“Then you’ll do it tomorrow. Not tonight, tomorrow. Respect her wishes, or I will make you.”
“I heard you the first time.”
“We’ll be back,” Rhys grabbed a few things from his desk then ushered Cassian out the door. “Don’t do anything. Just stay here.”
It could’ve been twenty minutes or two hours until I finally moved upstairs. Forcing myself to not go to Yn’s room was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. All the conversations we had, all the plans we made. It’s where she first got the idea of her restaurant. She literally had a dream and made it a reality.
I’d be lying if I said I told her how proud of her I was. I never have. Why have I never told her that? Could I really have been that caught up in Elain that… Wow. It’s funny how you only realize after the fact.
My bed caught me as I collapsed into it, tucking my knees into my chest. I am such a loser. Pathetic. Just like Rhys said. My heart would burn up and die at this rate. It was a mystery how I hadn’t burst into flames yet.
There are so many things I need, and Yn takes the top of the list. She had always been everything I needed. When I needed comfort, I went to Yn. When I needed solutions, I went to Yn. When I needed answers, to be heard, to be validated, to be loved… who was I supposed to go to now? Definitely not Rhys or Cassian, and certainly not Elain.
Maybe for the first time ever I wanted nothing to do with Elain. I didn’t want to see her. I couldn’t care less if I ever saw her again. Her presence in my life has done nothing but tear my other relationships apart.
She’s the reason I’m here in this mess.
_____
At some ridiculous hour of the night– morning? Is that the sun?– I heard the door open. I shot up, then deflated down. I wasn’t in my bed. I wasn’t at home. And that wasn’t Yn walking in the door.
Every thought and emotion rushed back into my head, creating an endless tangle of thoughts. The next more horrid and self destructive than the last. I deserve it.
Missing the opening of her restaurant, Latibule–an ancient word for refuge or safe place–was the biggest mistake of my life. I will never be able to make that up to her. I turned her biggest accomplishment into a slimy, diseased memory. I ruined what was supposed to be the best night of her life.
I’ve let her down in a way I’ll never be able to repair.
Even Rhys and Feyre were there last night. And I wasn’t. Nesta and Cassian. Azriel, Amren, Mor… they were all there, supporting her. And I was with Elain. She probably wanted to go, and I was there, holding her back.
I need to get out of this room before it crushes me whole.
I could see the sun just barely peeking over the Sidra when I stepped outside, cloak wrapped tightly around my head and shoulders to keep out the early morning bite.
There wasn’t a soul around, Velaris still blissfully asleep besides this one small corner store that sold hot tea and pastries all hours of the day. Rustling in my pocket was just enough for a peach turnover and a cherry blossom tea.
The bell chimed above the door as I walked in, knocking my boots against the step to not track dirt in.
“Early start to the day, Luc?” Ms. Immy smiled from behind the counter, polishing a few mugs before moving to come to the display case, packed full of delicious goods, savory and sweet.
“Unfortunately,” I sighed. “Couldn’t really sleep.”
“Well I am glad to have you in, the usual?”
“That would be great, Ms. Immy.”
The lovely owner of the bakery was Ms. Immy. One of the older members of the Night Court but as wise as they come. She’s the kindest, most gentle fae to roam Prythian. With her soft, sage green eyes and long, slender ears adorn with piercings, Ms. Immy was by far one of my favorites here.
The kettles whistled behind her as she dipped a tea bag into my mug. Ms. Immy always had designated mugs for her regular customers. Mine was made of green clay, mostly green with a white oval on the front with two lines of flowers. In the center of it all was a simple fox. She once told me that I had the spirit of one of those extinct creatures in the human lands. That I was reserved, and at my core I fiercely protected those I cared about.
If only I had been able to protect Yn from myself.
Her mug had been one crafted of the moon and the stars. With all the constellations of the Gods being lifted into the air by the magic of the Cauldron. Ms. Immy had told her it was a visual representation that Yn was a great reminder of the past to the current world. That she was lost art that was to never be forgotten.
There is nothing I want more than for the rest of the world to be loved as fiercely as she had loved me.
“Here is your tea, Lucien,” Ms. Immy set the mug on the counter, pushing up the glass case and plucking a peach turnover out. “And for you as well.”
“Thank you,” I tried to smile. I stared at the blackberry tart next to the peach turnovers. Yn’s go-to. It made my blood run cold.
I put the coins in her hand before I could begin to cry again and scooted out the door as another person was coming in.
The table and chairs outside were hard and covered in a light mist. It creaked as I sat, just as it always did. I should've sat anywhere else, but my body naturally drifted to this exact spot. It had a good view of the street so Yn and I could watch the people walk by. Pretending we know every bit of their personal lives and beyond. Make up extravagant stories and adventures for the most boring looking individuals in hopes they may one day get to go on them in another lifetime.
Gods she is everywhere. She’s in the tavern across the street, in the stones on the ground that we used to kick on our walks. She’s in the sunrise, the same color of her heated cheeks filling the sky. There is no escaping what used to be my whole world.
Silently, I let a few tears roll down my cheeks. I ought to be ashamed of showing so much emotion in public, but for some reason I can’t find the will to care.
The door chimes and footsteps go back down the street. The door chimes again.
“My fox boy,” Ms. Immy says so softly I almost don’t hear it over the roar in my ears. “What troubles you so badly you can’t sleep?”
I bite my lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises. “I don’t know how to fix something that I’ve done.”
“You missed the opening of Yn’s restaurant.” She says.
I nod. “How did you know?”
“Because I did not see you there, fox boy.”
“She kicked me out, Ms. Immy. I deserved it, every bit of what she said was true.”
“I think that is true, Lucien,” Ms. Immy came and sat in Yn’s spot, folding her hands in her lap, letting out a breath of air as she extended her old, feeble legs. “Nobody is happy with what you’ve done but-”
“I didn’t mean to blow her off Ms. Immy I just-”
“But,” she cuts me off with a pointed look. “I think you are a very lost soul. For the first time in your life you are truly free. No High Lord to obey, no throne to fight for, no war to fight in. Just a High Lord to serve and to respect. You have everything you could ask for, and yet you have no idea what to do with it.”
She’s right. She’s always right. “I want to fix it. I have to.”
“I am afraid that may not be what the spirit of the Gods wants.” Why is it that I get called fox boy and Yn get’s called something as majestic as ‘spirit of the Gods’? “If those are her wishes, you are going to respect them. Eternally.”
“I will go mad. If I don’t have her by my side for the rest of my life I will go mad.”
“So you share a bond with her as well?” She asks.
“I don’t know. All I do is that I haven’t stopped crying and shaking at every reminder of her. No matter how small. Life without her in it is meaningless to me. Afterall, she is the one who gave it back to me.”
“And a good job she did, fox boy,” Ms. Immy smiled softly. “You are a good male who has been blinded by instincts. While it is not your fault, it has become your problem. And by the looks of you, it seems like it has become quite the ordeal.”
My shoulders dropped as I put my head in my palms. I breathed. “I don’t know how to function without her. She has been there, every day of my life, for nearly seventy years, Ms. Immy. We did everything together. Our mornings were spent as one, our evenings, all the restaurant planning and-and brunches here with you-”
“Breathe, Lucien-”
“How am I supposed to just pack up my things today and move on? H-How am I supposed to just carry on as if she never existed in my life? The thought of not being able to see her every day makes me want to peel the skin off my flesh.”
Ms. Immy looked at me, the hard lines in her face becoming more defined. “Listen to me very carefully, fox boy. What’s done is done. You cannot go back in time and take back what you said. The worst of it is over. Now comes the long process of trying to piece your life together. Whether Yn will be able to help you will depend on what you decide to do in the next several days. If you follow her wishes of moving out and staying clear, there could be a chance in the future. But, if you neglect her wishes, as you had neglected her to lead you to this moment, then there is no hope.”
If you neglect her wishes, as you had neglected her to lead you to this moment, then there is no hope… Words have never stunned me quite as forcefully as Ms. Immy’s had. The true gravity of the situation has set in, if it hadn’t already. One wrong move and she’s gone. For good.
“There is a reason why you are my little fox, Lucien,” Ms. Immy stood, taking my cold mug that I hadn’t touched. “They were intelligent, cunning creatures, just as you are. Do not let your instincts guide you to a decision. Let your heart and the facts do it for you.”
“The facts? What facts?”
“The fact that you have screwed up. The fact that Yn has made a decision for you since you were incapable of doing it yourself. It is truth, and it hurts, but it has to for change to come.” And then she went inside.
I sat with those final words for far longer than I anticipated. It was long enough for people to begin leaving their homes, the streets beginning to fill with people.
Yn would be out of the house by now, opening for the restaurant’s breakfast hours. I could go now. Or I could stay here and try to blend into the hundreds of faces passing in and out. But I need to move. Yn might come in for her apple cider and blackberry tart. If I saw her right now I’d surely do something stupid.
As I walked, the clouds blocked out the sun and it began to drizzle. The drizzle turned into a steady rain, then a downpour. I was soaked through my cloak and boots, water seeping in and out with every step. My hair stuck to the back of my neck.
I kept my head down as I walked, afraid of being recognized. If Ms. Immy had been there to not see me at Latibule, who else?
The cobblestone ended and mud replaced it. I knew where I was.
The old, beaten path dared me to go up to the house. It beckoned me. From here, at the bottom of the hill, I could see several boxes stacked up outside the door, the disposable brown material soaked through with the rain. She was serious…
Some part of me– the extremely selfish part– has been secretly hoping that she’ll tell me she made a mistake and that she wants me back. But I think those boxes are a not-so-gentle-shove in the opposite direction.
The key in my pocket might as well have been the key to another universe, because when I opened the door it was like I entered a whole new world. One without me in it. All the pictures of us, all the paintings Feyre had done for us, were off the walls. All the plants and trinkets and decorations I gifter here were piled in the corner for me to collect.
How could so much damage have been done in just a few hours?
One by one, I packed away the things into the soggy boxes. I moved from room to room. Silently. Hoping this was all a dream only to be launched back into reality with every memory that surfaced. Every possession I had given her in the last seventy years was piled here for me to take.
She wanted no trace of me here. And I didn’t blame her. I don’t want any trace of me either.
I must’ve stayed there for hours– crying, packing, reliving moments I had long forgotten only to cry again– because it was close to sunset now. Every trace of me was packed up; all those pictures, all those trinkets, all my clothes and bathing goods… everything I owned fit into these boxes. Everything except for the one person I didn’t want to do life without.
But Rhys and Ms. Immy are right. If I try to do something now, to get her back, I’ll ruin any real chance. That is something I can’t afford.
To an immortal, a few months or years equivalates to just a few minutes of human life. But if it takes years for Yn to accept me back in her life…
Besides the clothes and membranes from the Autumn and Spring Courts, I discard everything. I will tear myself to bits if I don’t get rid of them. Will I regret it down the road, probably, but I can’t have them.
The two boxes and bag of clothes I carry from her house to the Town House are water logged and falling apart. It’s a miracle they didn’t unravel completely. Just add more humiliation to a High Lords son dragging boxes and bags through the street. I deserve all the stare’s and hushed questions.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for the sights of Rhys and Cassian helping me carry them up the stairs.
“I don’t know how you’re feeling but-”
“Don’t,” I pleaded. “Just… just don’t. I don’t want your pity, Cassian.”
“I am probably the last person besides Azriel who would pity you, Lucien. And I had no intentions to belittle you for what you did. I was going to offer you a spot in my training ring if you ever needed an escape.”
His kindness shocked me. I can’t say I know the Illyrian well, but this gesture spoke a lot to his character. So I sighed, of course I thought he was going to be hostile to me. Everyone should. “Oh.”
“Training starts at eight and goes to one. Come well fed and in something warm. The top of the House is colder.”
Neither of us said anything else as he left me to unpack.
______
Some weeks later I had taken Cassian up on his offer. Him and Nesta were great at kicking my ass and telling me about it. This side of both of them was far different than the ones I had seen. Here, Cassian wasn’t a prick. He was an instructor, teaching me how to defend my life and my honor. Nesta was… less Nesat. She channeled this otherworldly presence and became one with her weapon.
Me on the other hand… it was far more difficult. Fighting and battle wasn’t rooted in my blood like it was for Cassian. It was much harder for me to get it but I sorta did. Sorta.
“Just keep working on that footwork and it’ll help with the sword placement. If you’re solid by the end of the week, I’ll put a real one in your hands,” Cassian grinned, chucking me my practice weapon.
It brought a quick smile to my face. As fast as it was there it was gone. Like most these days.
When I got home, I rifled through my closet. Brown and green and cream colored shirts after another. Where was that Night Court Blue one I had gotten a long time ago? I could’ve sworn I plucked it from the pile on the floor- no, that was a towel. I was planning on wearing it to dinner at the River House tonight for Mor’s birthday.
Oh, Yn has it. I had given it to her to wear for a meeting with a realtor when looking at properties. She had tucked it into this black leather skirt.
I’ll swing by on my way to the party to get it. Mor always liked the color on me, and said it brought out the fire in my hair. She’ll appreciate the gesture.
After a shower and some other outfit choices, I can’t help but want that blue shirt. I’ll just go get it.
Through the falling leaves, I make my way down the street, across it, and to the meadow. There are six or seven houses with smoke billowing out of their chimneys. But there, right in the distance, is her house. She’ll be at her restaurant tonight so I know I’m safe.
I scurry up the path, still worried about being seen for some reason.
Has it been easy these past couple weeks? No. I haven’t been able to think of anything but her. Or dream of anything but her. It’s awful. Not her, but the fact that somehow, someway, she is still everywhere I am. In those memories in the darkest part of the night. The darkest part of my mind reserved for her and her only.
I hadn’t dared to go visit Elain. I don’t feel the need anymore. Which is relieving and frightening at the same time. It’s like there is a gaping hole in my heart that nothing will fill. Not even training. It proves a good secondary distraction, but nothing can suppress the primary guilt I feel every waking–
What is that smell? I stopped just shy of the door, key in hand. It wants to smell like the rest of the smoke and ash wafting into the air from the nearby cabins, but it’s… more alive? What if she left the stove on? Or a candle? There are hints of woods mixed into it, but not the type of woodsy scent from pine or maple logs.
I jam the key in as fast as I can to unlock the door. What if she left the fireplace burning or had an electrical fire or-
In the span of five seconds, three things happened. One: Yn was here. And she looked so beautiful. Her eyes are bright and full of color. Two: she was being held by someone, his hands on her cheeks. Three: boiling rage shot through when I realized who it was.
Eris.
~~~~~~~~~
Part 3
#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#lucien x you#lucien x reader#lucien acotar#lucien vanserra#acotar#acotar fandom
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J. Hughes - As Sure As It Gets
✄————————————
Jack Hughes x Reader
Requested✨
Word Count: 4.6k
Warning(s): none? Angst? Miscommunication?
This was proofread once and written during a nasty headache.
—————————————
“Jack, you’re my best friend.. and I know that..” I had to pause to find the right words. Jack was home for the summer. Home with his family, and I stupidly thought I couldn’t hide my feelings any longer.
“Your best friend?” Jack smirked, leaning into my side, where he’d been for the past hour, binging comedy sitcoms with me. He was practically laying on me, but I never minded. Jack was always a space invader. The best kind, in my opinion. Cuddly and gentle.
“Yeah.” My heart hurt to hear the excitement in his tone when he repeated my words. Maybe best friends was all he wanted to be.
“What’s up?” Jack pressed on, knowing by the tone in my voice that there was more.
“Jack-“ I sighed, glancing down at my lap, where I had been playing with Jack’s hands, occasionally running my fingers over the bracelet I made for him a week ago. The one he never took off. Because it was a symbol of our friendship.
When I didn’t continue, Jack gently moved one of his hands from my own to rest on my thigh.
“I’m listening.”
“Did you ever think about us.. as maybe more than friends?” I knew he had when we were little. Because when we were little, Jack was obsessed with me. Always running across the street with dandelions or flowers from his mother’s garden to knock on my door and give them to me. I used to love the flowers, but Jack had to stop that eventually when Ellen’s plants kept dying. At one point, little Jack, as mischievous as he was, stole his mother’s wedding band to propose to me. Granted we were only kids, and those feelings meant nothing, because they weren’t romantic. But Jack used to think I was the prettiest girl in the room.
“What?” Jack giggled, and I was too caught up in the fact that he was laughing to acknowledge the nervous sound in his voice. “No. Why? We’re best friends.” Jack squeezed my thigh. “Silly.”
Silly. Just like my delusional hope that he felt the same way. My heart shattered. Tears sprung to my eyes, but I tried my best to wipe them away without disturbing the boy pressed into my side. I stared down the tv, as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. Jack and I never bothered to look at one another. But at one point I did notice the way his hand raised to his face. No doubt biting one of his nails, which was a nervous habit he had. Had I made him uncomfortable?
When I got the confidence to speak again, I carefully rubbed a hand through his hair to gain his attention. My eyes were no doubt red from holding back tears, but in the dark, Jack would have been none the wiser. He tilted his head back to look at me.
“Yeah?”
“I should get going..” I was slow to slip out from beneath him. Jack’s lips immediately pulled into a frown. I never left the Hughes house this early.
“You have to stay. The episode’s not even over.”
“Sorry, Jack. I’m just too tired. Ask Lu to watch it with you.”
“Lukey’s boring.” Jack’s small whine of complaint would have been amusing if not for the pulsing pain in my chest. I forced out a laugh nonetheless and started to make my way over to the door. It was only then that Jack completely sat up and stared me down, a sad look in his eyes that I didn’t completely understand. I slipped my shoes on and eyed him in the silence.
“You’re really leaving?”
“Yes, Jack.”
“But we were gonna do milkshakes.” The disappointment in his tone frustrated me. The last thing I wanted to do was be around him.
“We’ll do ‘em some other time, Jack.” I sighed, shaking my head and grabbing my purse. A few tears finally slipped down my cheeks.
“Did I do something?” I heard Jack stand up, and I immediately reached for the door, opening it.
“No.. no Jack. Goodnight.”
Perhaps it was a harsh way to leave him. We hadn’t spoken for a week. An insufferably long week. I pushed him aside when he asked about hanging out. I told him I wasnt home when he asked to come over. I told him I didn’t have time when he offered to take me out. And each time he texted, I’d cry. I’d remember how he wanted nothing more than a friendship, and my heart would break all over again.
“He can have anybody. I should have known it was just in my head.” Eventually the sadness became overshadowed by anger. Frustration in myself for ever letting my feelings get as far as they had.
“I could have sworn he had a thing for you.” Madison muttered as she leaned against the cafe table we were seated at. The one I took Jack to frequently before I decided to ignore his existence.
“Apparently not.” I snapped softly. “He’s just like that.. that’s just the way Jack is. He’s touchy and sweet- and cuddly, and he probably did the same thing with Ty before he left.” My voice could barely balance itself, overwhelmed with emotion as I felt tears well up in my eyes. What hurt the most was knowing Jack probably wasn’t even phased by the fact that we weren’t talking much, or seeing each other. He probably just assumed everything was fine. This was one of those things I couldn’t see Jack about. I couldn’t cry on his shoulder about a broken heart, because he was the one who broke it. And he didn’t even know.
“Maybe you just need to find another guy. I mean, you’ve never known anybody as deeply as you knew Jack. Maybe a contender might help. And you have shit to look forward to! Like your birthday coming up! Did you make plans?”
“Not really…”
“We should do something!”
“I don’t know.”
“We could go out for drinks and get you laid. I think that’s a flawless plan.”
“What about Jack?”
“Think of it as the beginning of you forgetting about him.”
“I’ll think about it.” I wouldn’t. I knew for a fact the Hughes would want to do something, and as hard as it was to think about Jack, I’d still rather spend my night with a family who cared about me, than a man looking to get lucky.
——————
“Hey, mom?”
Ellen smiled at the sound of her son’s voice. Filling that silence she grew used to over the years of her boys being gone. She looked up from the magazine in her hands, taking in the usual disheveled appearance of her middle child. She wasn’t oblivious to the change in his behaviors as of recent, but seeing as he wasn’t going to be an open book about it, she never asked more than once.
“What’s up?”
“Can I talk to you, just real quick?”
“Yeah, hun. What’s-“
“It has to be fast. I’m up to play Quinn in ping pong next.” Ellen smiled at her son. He always thought he was slick, finding excuses to make their emotional conversations brief. To act like whatever was on his mind, wasn’t truly that bothersome.
“Pop a squat sweet pea.” Jack quickly plopped down in the deck chair across from Ellen. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed, leaning back and getting comfortable. Too comfortable for the supposed “short” conversation they were going to have. “What’s going on?”
“Do you know..” Jack’s hands fell into his lap, fidgeting with them aimlessly. “How to apologize for something.. when you don’t know what you did wrong?”
Ellen’s brow furrowed, and she closed the magazine in her hands.
“Who’s mad at you?”
“Uh.. nobody. I was just- asking.”
“Is it one of your brothers?”
“No.. it’s just- the other night, at the house when I had-“
“Did you upset her? What did you say?”
Ellen knew it was me before he even said my name.
“I didn’t say anything.” Jack brought his hand up to his face, resting his cheek on his fist and propping his elbow up on the arm of the chair. “She asked me if I ever thought of us as more than friends.”
“What’s wrong with that? You like her, don’t you?” Jack shrugged, a deep frown tugging at the corners of his quivering lips. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Ellen cooed, slowly leaning forward.
“I told her no.”
“What?” She set her magazine aside. “Why?”
“Because she’ll end up hating me!” Jack began to wipe at the tears forming in his eyes. Ellen stared him down in disbelief.
“How many years have you guys been friends? She’s put up with you this long.”
“But it’s different.. if we get into a relationship and she decides she hates me, it’ll ruin our friendship.” Jack choked on a breath of air and sighed. “She’s my best friend, mom. What if I ruin it?” Ellen slowly stood up and closed the short distance between herself and her son. She reached out to him, and sighed when Jack fell forward, his forehead pressed into her stomach as his arms wrapped around her legs.
“Sometimes I wish you’d just tell me these things before you work yourself up this much over them.” Ellen whispered as she ran one of her hands through Jack’s hair. “Jack, I don’t think you could possibly ruin anything between you two. I raised you to be a kind and respectful person. You’ve never hurt a girl before, have you?” He shook his head, a quiet sniffle catching the attention of his mother, who moved the hand rubbing his back to carefully guide his head away from her body. She tilted his chin upwards. “And even if something happens and you two decide to stay friends, I doubt she’ll just walk away.”
“She won’t spend time with me now.” Jack whispered, trying to stop himself from breathing as hard as he was, while his mother wiped the tears from his cheeks.
“Because she’s hurt, Jack.”
“‘Cause I hurt her.” Ellen could see the tears forming again.
“You can fix it honey, I promise. It’s not too late to figure it out.”
——————
“It’s refreshing to get out of the house. Jack’s been such a let down lately.” Quinn griped as he turned down the next street. I didn’t know why I turned Madison down to go out. I dreaded seeing Jack, but spending the day with Quinn helped me ease into the idea of spending an evening around him.
“Thanks for the birthday celebration today.” I spoke with a small smile.
“No problem. I enjoyed it. Especially that cake you dropped.”
“I didn’t drop it!”
“Yes you did! You’re lucky the thing had a lid, or we would have been eating cake off the concrete.”
“Bold of you to assume I was eating concrete cake.”
“You like the gift though, yeah?” Quinn swiftly switched the conversation on me, and I chuckled softly.
“It’s perfect, considering I’ve only been asking for Canucks gear for a year now.” I teased, tugging at the sides of the Canucks beanie I wore on my head.
“I’ll take it back.” Quinn threatened as he pulled into the driveway of the Hughes’ household. My gaze drifted to the house, and my smile slowly faltered.
“Mom’s been cooking all day. She even got our dad to help.” Quinn turned the car off and quickly climbed out. I hesitated, and he must have taken that as a hint, seeing as he opened the door for me when he got around to my side. I had no choice but to slip out of the car and follow him to the front door. I could smell the food the second Quinn pulled the door open. We both inhaled at the same time, an excited look taking over Quinn’s features. His usual dark and brooding demeanor completely gone.
“Mom! I got her!” Quinn called, and I gently shoved his shoulder.
“I’m not a package.” I scolded.
“Trust me, I know. Nobody would pay for you.”
“Hey! Don’t be mean!” Luke piped up as soon as he stepped into the entryway to greet us. “I’d pay for you.” I assumed Luke was trying to be kind, but it hadn’t come out the way he wanted it to, which left us three laughing softly.
“Glad to know. At least I’d have one supporter if my first profession doesn’t work out.” I held my arms out, and Luke was quick to hug me.
“That’s nasty.” Quinn commented, seeing as I put a visual in his head that he certainly didn’t want. “Go talk to Jack about that.” It was a thoughtless quip. One he knew better than to speak after his mother informed him of the situation, but one he hadn’t thought twice about saying because he said similar things all the time. I cringed, and Luke gave me an extra squeeze. I had no clue that either of these boys knew of my situation with Jack. When Luke pulled away, Ellen was standing in the doorway waiting for her turn. We lunged at each other the second we made eye contact, Ellen pulling me into one of the tightest hugs I’d ever received.
“Oh how I missed you!” She laughed softly. “Jim did too, believe it or not.” It was my turn to laugh.
“Where’s he at?” I questioned as we pulled apart.
“In the kitchen with Jack.” My heart sank. I hadn’t been as prepared as I thought I was. “Come on!” Ellen grabbed my hand and led me off down the hall. I drew in a deep breath, soothed by the smell of her cooking, and quickly stressed by the sight of Jack when I stepped into the kitchen with the woman.
“Hey! Birthday girl’s finally here!” Jim shouted, abandoning the pan on the stove to hug me. I laughed at his excitement.
“Jim! I told you to stir that!” Ellen left my side to rush toward the pan. Jim pulled away from me to look back at his wife.
“I just wanted to say hi.”
“I got it, now.” Ellen waved him off, and I found myself giggling at them before my gaze trailed toward Jack, seated at the table with a hopeful smile on his face.
“Hey!” I had to remind myself that he hadn’t really been affected by my confession. That the joy in his tone was from the fact that this was the first time we’d seen each other in a good week and a half. I couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Jack’s hope was merely a cover for how worried he was that our friendship was already falling apart. He was trying to look excited while mentally he berated himself over missing his chance with me.
“Hey, J.” I prayed for a distraction, and thankfully it presented itself when Luke came rushing into the room to grab my arm.
“You have to pick our movie tonight.”
“It’s my turn!” Quinn shouted from the living room.
Jim scoffed and leaned against the counter.
“Quinn and I will compromise on something. We’ve spent the whole day together, I practically know him like the back of my hand now.” I joked softly. “Go tell your brother to calm down.” Luke nodded and slipped back out of the room. I turned to look back at Jim and Ellen.
“Happy birthday.” Jack’s voice made me cringe. I forced a smile and looked toward him to nod, but my brow furrowed when I noticed the falseness in his smile, fidgeting with his hands.
“Dinner will be ready soon, if you kids wanna go sit in the living room and find that movie.” Ellen suggested.
“Got a time estimate on that?” I watched her head whip back in my direction, smiles painting our lips.
“Ten minutes,” she answered with a chuckle. I nodded and swiftly left to find Quinn and Luke in the living room.
“Quinn, hand over the remote.” I held my hand out, and watched Quinn roll his eyes before placing the tv remote in my hand.
“We’ll pick something together.”
“Oh no! It’s your birthday. Nobody wants what I want.” I chuckled at Quinn’s dramatic acting.
“You hit the nail on the head, Q.” I teased, only to earn a glare from him. We spent the next ten minutes arguing over a movie before Ellen called us into the kitchen again. There was a swift prayer said over the food, and Ellen began preparing plates before guiding everybody into the living room. Usually we ate at the table, but seeing as it was a special occasion, Ellen was lenient.
I plopped down on the couch beside Quinn, Luke quickly invading my space on the other side. I’d admit it felt weird, because Jack always sat beside me, but I tried not to think much of it. Until he came into the room and sat in the arm chair diagonal to the couch. We spared each other cautious glances, and Jack flashed me a hopeful smile. He was off. I couldn’t understand why.
“So,” Ellen spoke when she walked into the living room, sitting on the floor and resting her plate in her lap. “Tell me what you and Quinn did today.”
“She dragged me around until my feet hurt.”
I lightly slapped Quinn’s shoulder, and shot a glare at Luke when he laughed.
“We went to Starbucks first. Then we went to the mall and ran around for a bit. I went ahead and bought a new dress for this fund raiser I have going on next month.”
“I pitched in on that.” Quinn chimed in.
“Yes. He technically got me two things.”
“Yeah, but the beanie didn’t cost much.” He reasoned, and I shrugged.
“Anyways,” I smiled. “We stopped at Walmart after and got a small cake to share-“
“That she dropped.”
“On accident!” Luke started laughing once again, and I shot him another dirty glare. Jim seemed just as amused, and I almost expected Jack to laugh too, but when I looked in his direction, he didn’t seem to be paying much attention, merely picking at his food and occasionally looking up. I may have been heartbroken over the fact that he didn’t like me the way I did him, but I hated to see him so off. I hated that I hadn’t been able to spend my birthday with Jack, like we did every year prior.
“It was still good.” I spoke, slightly distracted by my conflicting thoughts about Jack.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Quinn still decided to play difficult.
“Seems like you two had a great day. Jim went out to do some last minute present shopping while I cooked today.” Ellen’s husband looked up at her with wide eyes.
“Damn mom,” Quinn laughed, “throwin’ dad under the bus.”
“More like ran me over.” Jim chimed in, earning a gentle nudge from Ellen.
“You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”
“We always do, hun.” Ellen reasoned, and she wasn’t wrong. The Hughes family always made me feel loved and special. Anybody would have been lucky to be as close to them as I was.
We conversed and discussed various things while we ate, until plates were set aside and conversation slowed. “Alright. I’ll take plates into the kitchen. You guys get the presents out.” Ellen instructed, and I watched everybody stand up and disperse. Everybody except for Jack. I eyed him for a moment, the way he brought his hand to his mouth to bite one of his nails. That spaced out look in his eyes. We started out good. He smiled at me. He greeted me. I pushed him off again…
“You good?” I finally asked.
“Fine.” Jack answered in a flat tone.
“Jack-“ I immediately stopped when Luke returned with his father. Luke held a small bag, and Jim held two wrapped boxes. When Ellen came back, with Quinn, she had a bag in her own hands. Everybody got situated in their spots again after the presents were set on the coffee table.
“Jack, honey, did you get anything?”
The middle boy looked toward his mother, shaking his head.
“I forgot.”
“That’s such a lie! You got her something like two months ago! You haven’t shut up about it since.” Luke was on the receiving end of a hard glare from Jack before the middle brother got up and stepped out of the room.
“I’ll grab it. You guys go ahead and start.” He spoke.
“Open mine first.” Luke suggested, and I nodded. Opening presents always went by quickly with the Hughes. Luke got me a Polaroid camera and a few packs of extra film. Something I never asked for, but was certainly elated to get. A gift that I was excited to use over the summer. Ellen had informed me that her mother had helped with her gift, which happened to be my very own Grandma Hughes blanket. With three little logos in the bottom, being the teams the boys play for, and my name embroidered in cursive on the other corner. Jim had gotten me a mug and tried to tie it in with his wife’s gift. I assured him the mug would be put to good use, and that I loved it. When it came down to Jack, Ellen called for him. We waited for a while before she let out a sigh.
“I’ll go find him.”
“Let me do it.” I slowly stood up from the couch. Ellen smiled at me and nodded. I didn’t expect my birthday to go by as smoothly as it did, but I knew there was tension between Jack and I. We just needed to talk. When I got up to his bedroom, I gently knocked on the door before pushing the cracked door open. Jack was on his bed, staring down at a little box and twisting a lock of hair between his fingers.
“Jack?” I must have startled him, hearing the gasp he drew in as he looked up at me. He looked teary eyed.
“I’m fine.” He insisted before I asked, his hand falling away from his hair. “I got this for you.” He held out the box, but it was the last thing I was interested in when my best friend looked absolutely heartbroken. I took the box from his hand and set it down on his nightstand.
“What’s going on?” I sat down on the edge of his bed. “Just a bad day?”
“A bad week.” I bit down on my bottom lip. I knew it was my fault. “I missed you.” He looked down at his bed.
“I’m sorry Jack.. I should have made time to spend with you.”
“It’s okay.” He sniffled. “You were upset.. it’s my fault. I ruined it.” I raised a brow.
“What did you ruin, Jack?”
“Our friendship.”
“Jack it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have asked you that question anyway. If anything it’s on me.. and if you don’t feel the same, it’s fine-“
“I like you too.” Jack’s voice came out in a whisper.
“You don’t have to lie now.” I felt the tears spring to my eyes, looking away.
“No I mean it. I do. I was afraid- in the beginning.. I got scared. I didn’t wanna lose you. I’ve liked you for- for forever. But I was afraid it would ruin our friendship.” I tensed when I felt Jack’s hand rest on my thigh. “I wanna be with you so bad.”
I looked back at him, my brow knitted together in disbelief. “Are you sure?” I wiped the tears from my eyes.
“So sure.” Jack looked up at me, and the silence was almost deafening. “I’m sorry I messed this whole thing up.” His eyes trailed back down to the bed, but I was quick to cup his jaw in my hand, bringing his attention back to myself.
“You didn’t mess anything up, Jack.” I insisted. “Just added a few pages to a chapter that could have ended a week ago.” I joked gently.
“I guess so.”
“Oh, stop that.” I gently rubbed his cheek with my thumb. “We’re on the same page now. There’s nothing to worry about.” I shimmied up the length of his bed and leaned back against the headboard. “Come here.” I patted the space next to myself, and Jack quickly moved up to sit beside me. I grabbed the small box from his nightstand and rested it in my lap. He still seemed a bit upset, but I had no doubt he was only beating himself up. He glanced down at the small box in my lap.
“I can return it if you don’t like it.” He spoke softly, but the last thing I wanted to do was return a gift from the boy who just confessed his love for me.
“You know I never return a Jack Hughes birthday gift.” I reminded him as I slowly tore the colorful wrapping paper off. I tried to fight the excitement in my chest when I felt the velvet on the box. It was jewelry.
Jack leaned into my side, one of his hands resting gently against the side of my thigh while I lifted the box and slowly opened it. My heart raced. I gasped. I sat up so quickly that Jack’s teeth chattered when my shoulder hit the underside of his jaw.
“Oh my god!”
“You like it?” Jack asked as he rubbed his face. I turned to look at him.
“It’s beautiful! Jack you have to put it on!” I quickly removed the cushion the necklace sat on. A dainty silver chain with an equally dainty heart charm on it. Something tiny, but elegant in its own manner. I removed the necklace from the cushion and handed it over to him.
“Where’d you find it?” I asked while he worked on undoing the clasp.
“New Jersey. My mom helped me find it for you when she visited last.” He wrapped the necklace around my neck, and I had trouble containing my smile. Once he got the clasp redone, I reached up to run my fingers across the chain.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t like it when I got it.. ‘cause it looked like something for a couple-“ I turned back in Jack’s direction and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a hug.
“God it’s a good thing we like each other then, huh?” Jack’s silence made me slowly pull away.
“Huh?”
“Because it’s a thing for a couple.” I reminded him of his previous words, and it seemed to take Jack a moment to understand before a smile parted his lips.
“We can do that?”
“Absolutely we can.” I allowed my arms to hang lazily over his shoulders.
“Man, I was so nervous.. I thought you’d change your mind or- god I don’t know..”
“Jack.” I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I have loved you for years now. My mind was made up a long time ago.” His big smile was such a contrast to the frown from before.
“You’re sure?”
“Ask me one more time, Hughes.” I whispered.
“You’re sure?”
I slowly leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“As sure as it gets, lovely.”
✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾
#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#jack hughes#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes blurb#quinn hughes#luke hughes
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Flower Shop
Richie Jerimovich x F!Reader
For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: Flower Shop
A/N: This is NOT the same reader as my other Richie fics. I've decided to compile those fics into their own multichap because I've gotten some Bear fic ideas outside of that little universe I've created. ALSO, huge shout out to @kind-wolf for this idea!!!! Seriously sparked so much inspiration, thank you x 10000000 I hope you enjoy :)
Warnings: Cursing, arguing, light angst, mentions of harassment, and someone being drunk and disorderly.
The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth
“We’re across from that stupid fuckin’ flower shop.” Richie spoke into the phone. “Yes, that one.” He was staring out the window at the shop he mentioned, annoyance growing as he stared out. “No, I don’t know if they’ve got white roses, look, will you just tell me when my meat delivery is gonna be here, I gotta fuckin’ feed people.” Richie had slammed his hand down on the table like the person on the other line could see his frustration. Before the conversion continued, Richie saw movement where he was staring across the street. “I gotta go, just deliver the fuckin’ meat.”
As you stepped outside of your flower shop, dragging to large potted plants to sit alongside the front door, you heard the familiar bell of the shop across the street. At first the noise went unnoticed, the first few weeks it was just part of the Chicago hustle and bustle but two months in, you began to notice it because it usually meant that someone was about to start yelling at you.
“I thought I told you that putting that shit out on the street causes distractions and traffic!” The man yelled out to you.
Right on schedule was the thought in your head as you huffed and stood up to yell back.
“I thought I told you to mind your fuckin’ business, beef boy!” You usually had discourse like this on a daily basis but between the early start you had and the exhaustion from pulling these plants out of the back storage room, you were a little more rowdy today.
“Beef boy?” He scoffed. “Stop blocking the sidewalk, you–you–flower fuck!” He tripped up on what to call you there and it made you smile.
“T-t-t- today, Junior!” You mocked him back.
“Are you making fun of me by quoting Billy fucking Madison?!”
The cars of traffic were moving on the roads in front of you, the audacity they had interrupting your heated discussion. But nonetheless, you weren’t going to let it stop you from going back and forth.
“Why are you such a fuckin’ jagoff?!” You called back out at him.
The comment made the slightest smirk grow on Richie’s face, you were too far to notice it which he was grateful for but hearing the word that he called people so often out of someone else’s mouth was amusing.
“I don’t know, why don’t you look in the mirror and tell me why you’re such a jagoff!” He lifted his hand up and pointed his finger, throwing it at you as he spoke.
“Wow.” You started clapping. “Great comeback, what are we 10? I know you are what am I?” You called out in a immature tone.
“I’m gonna go back inside and work because some of us put our blood sweat and tears into our jobs, while other people sit up on their bouqueted pedestals and fuck over us hard workers!”
You had no idea what he was saying, what he meant by it but that was also a pretty normal and everyday occurrence so you didn’t think twice about it and just yelled out before going back inside your flower shop.
“Go fuck yourself, beef boy!”
These things happened pretty often, not everyday but often enough that your comebacks got funnier, they got more detailed, more pointed, on both sides. When you went out to water the plants on display in front of the store and Richie went out for a smoke break you yelled across at each other. When you both were at the window looking at the rain clouds forming or the rain drops falling, you’d throw middle fingers up and mouth profanities at each other. When you’d stay late and look across the street to see Richie there at the restaurant late, you’d stare at each other, give mean looks and turn the lights off to work in the back offices at your shop.
It was strangely something enjoyable, for both of you. It was a way to get out so much frustration and build up tension that had accrued in the days. It wasn’t healthy, and you knew that but you weren’t exactly looking for the textbook solution to your problems these days.
As you stood outside, past closing time, sweeping up the dead leaves and fallen petals from the day, Richie was out for what was likely his 5th smoke break of the day. It was late, and you both tended to keep it down when curfew hours hit, out of respect for the block, not each other. As you moved along your storefront, you heard a voice that wasn’t familiar.
“Yo, can I please get some flowers, my girl’s mad at me and I need something to bring home.” The voice was slurred, the person sounded drunk. You looked up and saw the person who had stumbled up to your store.
“I can give you a mix of stuff for $10.” You weren’t in the mood to cause problems so you thought this would be a good compromise. A bouquet like that would normally be double so you thought this was the perfect meet in the middle deal.
“Nah, I don’t got any money. Just let me go in and grab something small, no biggie, alright?” The man started to push by and tried to get in the door that you had already locked.
“We’re closed, I can go grab something for you, and you can give me $10 for it, that’s it.” Your voice was firm as you stepped in front of the door.
“C’mon!” The guy whined.
“Alright, new plan. No flowers, and you get the fuck out of here.” There was no whine in your tone, you weren’t playing games which is why the push you gave the guy was more aggressive than your initial block.
While the push worked to get him away from the door, the man didn’t leave.
“Pretty sure she told you to get the fuck out of here.”
That sentence was said by someone else and it made both you and the man turn to look at where the hardened voice was coming from. You saw the man from across the street, now much closer on your side of the street, on your sidewalk. He looked different closer up, you could see the features of his face better, despite it being late at night you could see things that the space hid. The bags under his eyes, the roughness of his stubbled beard, the wrinkles in his forehead and eyes, he was worn, he had been through a lot, you could tell. You also could tell that he had been used to these type of run ins, or you so assumed as you looked at the gun in his hand that wasn’t being threatened yet, but was ready in the case it needed to be.
“But my flowers…” The man stumbled slightly as he spoke.
“They’re her flowers, not yours. Go home, get the fuck out of here.” Richie stepped forward, using his body to show force and slightly raising the gun to let the man know it was there.
And it worked. The man left, drunk and defeated, leaving you and Richie on the sidewalk in front of your shop.
“I had it handled.” The glare you had was still on the man walking away and when he got out of your view, you turned to the person still next to you.
“Most people just say thank you.” He scoffed as he put the gun in his back waistband.
“You have a history of showing up armed and ready to shoot someone?” You raised your eyebrow and leaned on the broom handle.
“No, I just–do you have to argue everything?” He was frustrated.
“I just assumed that was our thing.” Your shoulders shrugged so nonchalantly.
Richie let out a laugh and shook his head as he took a step off the curb and was now standing on the asphalt of the street, slowly making his way back over to the restaurant. “I’d buy yourself a piece, get yourself familiar with it, this block can get hot sometimes.”
“Who says I’m not familiar?” You called out to him with a smirk on your face.
“My mistake.” He lifted his hands up in surrender with a similar smirk to your own before turning around fully to step onto his side of the street.
“Hey, beef boy!” The humor in your voice was being held back by a thin thread as you smiled through your words.
Richie turned around, his hand on the door handle ready to enter back into the restaurant as he stared at you. For the first time ever, you weren’t going to yell profanities at eachother, give rude gestures or annoyed looked. For the first time you smiled at him and truly had no sarcastic attitude in what the next two words out of your mouth would be.
“Thank you!”
#The Bear#The bear fx#the bear fanfiction#the bear fanfic#richie jerimovich#richie fuckin jerimovich#richie jerimovich x f!reader#richie jerimovich x reader
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Hello there 👋😊 I love your hcs so much!! 💕💕 I hope it's ok if i ask for another one. If you don't mind, I'd love to read one about Tetchou with an insecure s/o, like reader feels insecure about their look and can't believe someone as pretty as Tetchou would fall for them. 😞👉🏻👈🏻
If it's ok the same for Jouno 💕💕
Agh! Thank you so much for the sweet words! ~(>_<~) This request is so wholesome (Time to turn it into pure ANGST, with comfort of course, hehe). I’ll do both Tecchou and Jouno just for you, my dear! Please don’t ever feel bad for requesting, I’m here to fulfill your every request! Now, without further ado…
⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ
Love's Reassuring Embrace
Slight Angst —> Comfort
TW: Mentions of body dysmorphia, Self Doubt
Ft. Tecchou, Jouno
⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ
Tecchou
Let’s get one thing straight, Tecchou adores you.
When he looks at you, all he sees is perfection.
Therefore, he is honestly confused every time you made a negative remark about yourself.
He’d often listen to you point out insecurities about yourself; your looks, your voice, or your behavior. All things that he loves so much about you.
Tecchou will do anything and everything to make you feel like the most gorgeous person in the world.
Wether it be with gifts; Chocolates, Flowers, Plushies, etc.
Praises and compliments on a daily basis.
Or just a simple shoulder to cry on when you’re feeling down.
He’d stay up late at night holding you as you let out all of your pent up frustrations and insecurities, he’d listen to you confess the feeling of not being good enough for him, the way you felt he was too good for you…that he deserved someone better.
He’d hold you tightly, whispering sweet reassuring words into your ear as his soft fingers caressed your hair.
He would tell you how beautiful you are, how you are every single bit worthy of him and much more.
The way your voice was like music to his ears, the way your smile was brighter than the sun itself.
He kissed you softly, wanting to take away your doubts with every kiss he planted on your delicate skin.
In his eyes…you were the picture of perfection…
Jouno
Guys. He’s blind- don’t even worry, he can’t even see you/ j.
Jouno can be unintentionally harsh with his words.
He’d sometimes call you dumb or slow when you couldn’t figure something out.
He didn’t seem to worry much about what he said since he usually talked to everyone that way, and they never seemed to feel offended by his words. (Plus, he never really meant it in a mean/serious way).
At first, you didn’t really mind his passive comments, but over time…negative thoughts started consuming your mind.
It started off small, some self doubt developed into you fully doubting your own knowledge which developed into you judging your own looks, your face, your body, your relationship…
You started to rethink why Jouno even got in a relationship with you, Was it purely out of pity? Just for his own amusement?.
In your mind; you didn’t deserve him, he was way too handsome and skilled to be with someone like you…
Jouno started to notice a change in your demeanor; you seemed less confident, didn’t speak your mind as much, and you seemed to be spending more time looking at yourself in the mirror.
He felt slightly confused but thought you were just having a rough week.
And that’s when he heard it, the soft sounds of you muttering curses about the things you hated about yourself, his sensitive ears heard all the negative things you said about your looks, your height, your voice…your relationship.
Jouno walked in, his expression showed one full of sorrow as he wore a frown.
He quickly hugged you, feeling the way your heartbeat quickened as you started to cry into his chest.
He held you in his arms as he asked why you would say such things about yourself.
His voice was delicate, afraid that if he said anything in a stern voice, you’d break.
You explained how you felt about his harsh comments, how you felt insecure about your own looks…and how you wondered why someone as perfect as him would be with someone as imperfect as you…
It felt like a ton of bricks had just hit him, he immediately apologized, he promised to be more careful with his words in the future.
His voice was soft and full of regret as he whispered affirmations into your ear, about how amazing you were, how he truly didn’t deserve you, how you were more than enough… how your relationship was the best thing that had ever happened to him…
⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ
It got a little dark on Jouno’s part, I tried my best to make it as realistic as possible
I loved writing this though! I hope you all enjoyed these head-canons
And as always, Love you all! <3
#bsd tecchou#tecchou x reader#bsd jouno#jouno x reader#bsd x reader#bsd headcanons#bsd#anime#ansgt#comfort
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2:21 ー DENJI. take all of my soul, I'm not afraid to share.
where on earth is he? you glanced sharply at the top right corner of your phone, forgoing your fourth attempt to watch the same tiktok. it was well-past midnight and your boyfriend still wasn’t home yet.
you checked your messages again.
hey when are you coming home? sent 23:14
baby? sent 23:24
he hadn’t even read them.
you sighed anxiously with a light buzz of irritation. denji couldn’t be giving you the silent treatment over what happened. if anything, you were the one who should be giving him the silent treatment. you glanced in the direction of max, the calathea orbifolia that was your pride and joy before denji let the apartment get too cold while you were visiting your parents for a week. then you came home today ー or rather, yesterday ー to your pride and joy’s leaves flopped over. needless to say you snapped.
now max’s beautiful leaves were gone, the stems cut to soil length in hopes he’d grow back just the same as before.
your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen even though his shift had long since ended.
your upset from earlier now gave way to worry. this was denji. the same denji who woke you up when you were sleeping on the couch to ask if ‘we’re still good?’ before he crawled under your blankets and fell asleep on your chest. he couldn’t be ignoring you, not even if you were upset with one another. and that’s why i’m freaking out. you finally caved and hit the phone icon yet all you received was his voicemail instantly.
you sighed again, shaking your head. “he’s probably at aki’s.” you murmured, not sure who you were trying to convince more. you would sleep in the living room on the couch, just in case. not that you thought you’d get much sleep.
it was almost too coincidental in that moment, however, that the doorknob made the familiar sounds of being unlocked before the door burst open.
relief and anger swept over you all at once as you saw your boyfriend in the flesh, sweaty and breathing hard. “where the hell have you been?!” you whispered loudly, trying not to alert your neighbors. “you’ve had me worried half to-”
“before you get mad,” denji held out a hand, the other behind his back as he leaned against the door frame in loud pants. “my phone died so i couldn’t call or text and i thought about trying to text you from some random person’s phone but i couldn’t remember your number-” the blond took a frantic breath. “but i was tryin’ to find one of those 24 hour supermarkets but of course we live in a part of town where there ain’t none and-”
you waved your hands frantically, “denji, denji, denji breathe!”
it took a few large breaths before denji finally looked like he wasn’t ready to pass out. “okay,” you finally began. “why were you trying to find a 24 hour supermarket?”
brown eyes glanced over his shoulder with a light grimace, an internal battle clear on his face. ultimately, the side of truth won as denji finally took his hidden arm from behind his back and held up a small bouquet.
the wrapping itself was paper that was clearly ripped out of a notebook and the flowers? they were haphazardly different lengths, some stems poking straight out of the wrap. they were wildflowers, dandelions and cosmoses you recognized right away for some but the others unrecognizable blooms. some looked worse for wear, a few downright had no petals probably lost in denji’s sprint homeー yet all looked 100% hand-picked.
“i was tryin’ to be romantic when i apologized but i couldn’t get any of those fancy bouquets. i kinda had to improvise.” denji sheepishly explained as you gingerly took the arrangement from his fingers, not wanting it to fall apart. “i’m sorry about mack.”
“max.” you corrected without missing a beat despite your throat feeling tight and eyes feeling wet.
“yeah max.” denji continued seamlessly as if he hadn’t butchered your plant’s name in the first place. “i’m sorry, i know how much he meant to you and i’ll help grow him back even if he’s a pain in the ass about the humidity and drainage and needs distilled water instead of tap like a little princess.” denji blanched at his own words. “not that he’s a pain in the ass. i won’t even complain the entire time he’s in recovery!”
“you’re such a goofball” you laughed before hugging your boyfriend tightly; it was the only way you’d stop yourself from crying. “god, i love you so much.” you kissed the juncture between his shoulder and neck, you kissed his chin before you kissed his lips once, twice, three times. you loved this man, no matter how much of menace he could be, you were sure you loved him before you even knew him.
you loved his messy hair in the morning,
you loved his snide comments that swore you loved max more than him,
and you loved the dreamy look in his eyes and dopey smile on his face in this moment especially.
“i love you more” denji grinned widely.
“no, you don’t get to do that when you’re apologizing to me”
“then you’re not mad anymore?”
“not if you keep your promise to help take care of max”
“i don’t have to sleep by myself?”
“no, no you do not.”
(despite denji’s urge to pick you up and swing you around, you refused. you wanted to put your bouquet in some water first.)
a timestamp piece for @cafedanslanuit who accurately guessed my haikyuu!! crush. if you’re interested in gettin’ one, there are 3 slots still open (hint he is on one of these two teams: karasuno/nekoma). anyway, i really enjoyed making this one. csm is finally out and episode 1 was perfect. the va for denji is doing such a great job for his first main role. denji needs so much love man, for everything he takes he gives thrice as much as a lover that’s what i feel
#look she's writing#timestamp#chainsaw man x reader#csm x reader#denji x reader#timestamp fics are so therapeutic tbh#they're short so there's no big pressure around it#kinda like a warm up before doing your main exercise
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sunflower
summary: you begin to recieve flowers from an anonymous source.
originally posted: sept. 22, 2019 (wtf I was posting fics damn near every day)
You open your locker to pack up for the day and go home, and there they are.
Sunflowers.
Yesterday it was roses, last week it was daisies. It was a sweet gesture, until you found a bouquet of sunflowers on your desk with your name on the tag. This person was in your class, and knew where your desk was, and who YOU were. Curiosity peaked, you meet up at Miles and Ganke’s dorm to discuss.
“So now I have like, 3 bouquets of flowers and petals all over my locker and I really need to know who it is-”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down [Y/N],” Ganke interrupted. “Are you saying you have a secret admirer?” You nodded, frantically. You’d only met Miles and Ganke the previous week, but, for some reason, you felt you could tell them a whole lot.
“I need you to help narrow down who could be giving me all these damn plants, because I’m running out of space in my vase at home,” you frowned. Miles smiles to himself at the thought of you taking the flowers home and caring for them. “They’re obviously in my homeroom, since they know where my desk is at, right? Miles, who’s in our homeroom?”
Startled out of his thoughts, Miles finally speaks after having been silent this entire time.
“Uh, there’s me and you, Andre, Miranda, and… That’s all I know.”
Sighing in frustration, you plop down on Ganke’s bed next to where Miles sat.
Impishly elbowing your arm, Miles, asks, “Is there anyone you want it to be?” Not catching onto the joke, you actually answer. “Hmm. I hope whoever it is is like, really sweet and artistic. I like artsy types.” Miles feels a glimmer of hope at that. “You’re mad corny,” he laughs.
The next day, you find more sunflowers and daisies in the holes of your locker, but there was something else there, too.
Stuck to one of the bigger sunflowers was a baby-blue sticky note, your name written in a bubbly font and decorated with neon patterns. Cute.
Miles opened his locker next to yours.
“More flowers?” he asked. You smiled and showed him the sticky note. “Look, they drew this, too! Isn’t that cute?” Miles smirks a little, though you don’t know why.
—
It was a Friday, so you texted Miles that you were coming over to hang out. Before you even ring the doorbell, he opens the door to let you in, beaming.
“Hey [Y/N], pizza’s here already. Don’t just stand there, now!” After greeting his parents, you both head to Miles’ room with the box of pizza. Of course, his Bluetooth speaker was blasting Swae Lee. You still had the sticky note in-hand as you sat on his bed, taking a slice of pizza.
“You good, Gonzalo? You been mad quiet lately.” Snapping out of his gaze at the mention of his middle name, Miles replies, “I’m fine, I’m fine. No need to use my government name.” Looking up, you notice a pop of color on Miles’ desk. It was piled with sketchbooks containing elaborate designs that looked like they belonged on a mural.
“Those are nice,” you tell him, pointing at the pile of drawings. “Thanks, made em myself, you know.” Miles internally facepalms himself. They’re on your desk, of course she knows they’re yours!
You get up from the bed to get a closer look at Miles’ designs. The circular lettering and neon color palette look… familiar. Then you take the sticky note out of your back pocket. A sheepish grin creeps onto your face as everything starts to make sense.
“Miles, you been giving me all those flowers?” Smiling playfully, he gives you a big shrug that said, ‘I’ve been caught, so yeah.’ You suck your teeth in feigned annoyance and hit Miles with a pillow. You both descend into uproarious laughter as you continue hitting him. “I really hate you, bro!”
“What, I’m the artsy type!” Miles jokingly exclaims, earning him another smack with the pillow. The two of you flop back down on his bed, exhausted from all the laughing.
“Did you buy all those flowers yourself?” you finally ask. Miles replies, “Yeah, man! 20 bucks each,” and you snort a little.
“All that for a prank-?”
“It wasn’t a prank.” Miles’ tone is somber, now. He isn’t grinning anymore. You don’t understand.
“What does that mean,” you prod further. He turns his head to look you directly in the eye. “Well… I kinda like you. Just a little. So I got you flowers.” You continue staring at him, at which he says, “…sorry?” You sit up, and so does Miles.
“You’re so fucking stupid,” you tell him as you pull him into a suffocating hug. “Wanna go out sometime?”
Miles chokes out a muffled, “Yes!”
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Hello tunblr user that I have NEVER spoken to before
Can I pretty please request dragon!zhongli doing dragon!Zhongli things
Like hoarding shiny things, and having a tail and hating random plants and squid 😭😭😭😭 idk I’m just hoping that something in this magically inspires your brain BUT feel free to ignore me
(I also really wanted to initiate ur ask box lol)
~ 🌷 anon <3
Why hello there tumblr user who i have also never spoken to! i hope this is uh,,, acceptable.
it was so hard to find a title for this oml
"my natural form...?"
zhongli x gn!reader
genre: fluff, pure unfiltered fluffiness, such fluff, many fluffitude
word count: 500-ish
tags: retail addict zhong bc we love to see it, possessive zhong, zhong hates fish zhong, protective zhong (hes a cutie patootie guys omgomomgomgomgogmogmHDKAJH), venti makes a cameo/reader is a traveller but not tHE traveller bc THEYRE MINORS I REFUSE TO WRITE THAT. thats kinda it
tw/cw: possessive dragon boi, it lowkey seems like lightly toxic behaviour but i think thats it
a/n: i wrote a little smol bit of this every night this week so its maybe a bit disjointed but whatever. this was fun to write ty tulip bb. zhongli is the cutest im so sOFT FOR THIS MAN AAAA. also send me asks, ples, pls, plsssssssss, pls.
dragon!zhongli who will buy pretty things without even realising that he quite literally has a retail addiction. will put things in random places in your house then get really confused when you move them. he keeps closely monitored stock of everything.
“darling, have you seen my golden vase anywhere”
“which golden vase?”
“the one i purchased last week, at the market”
“i put flowers in it, it’s in the kitchen”
“okay, okay, good”
“you seem awfully worried about it”
“i am not, i simply… wished to know where it was… is all.”
“i see.”
dragon!zhongli who is lowkey possessive over you but refuses to admit it, also he feels that jealousy is not a good shade on him. But he’s a dragon, and you’re his most prized treasure, so it is only natural to him to protect you, right? it can’t be helped. he's got a really good sense of smell, so he can always tell who you’ve been around in the past few hours, but won’t tell you because he's afraid it’ll freak you out.
(side note: he totally loves your scent and will compliment you on it all the time, like he’ll bury his head in your neck to calm himself down omg)
“my dear, who was with you earlier?”
“the guild had me teleport to mondstadt for a commission, why?”
“nothing my love, i simply- nevermind”
you look him in the eyes doubtfully
“tell.”
“alright. you were with the anemo archon, yes?”
“i was. i was sent out to windrise to fight some hilichurls, i ran into him and he helped me defeat them, why?”
“nothing, darling. the hilichurls didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“when has a hilichurl ever hurt me?”
“it is difficult to argue with that logic.”
dragon!zhongli who despite literally creating the harbour, refuses to go near the markets. he cannot stand the smell of the seafood that the merchants sell, so despite trying to “blend in” whilst in his mortal form, he will rarely be sighted outside the innermost parts of the city.
“li’”
“yes, dear?”
“shall we take a stroll by the harbour? i have a free hour this afternoon and we should spend some time together. i haven’t spent much time with you this week, and i've missed you.”
“i have missed you too, love, however i think that-”
“you think?”
“i think that it is rather cold, down by the harbour. Shall we go to the teahouse instead?”
dragon!zhongli who is unconsciously protective of you in his sleep. he will wrap his tail around your form when cuddling, as a literal natural response. puts it around your waist and between your arms whilst spooning you so you can hug it like a teddy bear whilst he puts little kisses on your shoulders as you doze off. tells you the stories of years gone by as you sleep to vent his worries.
“li’”
“darling?”
“tell a story”
“must i?”
“yes, you must!”
“very well my dear, close your eyes.”
#zhongli#zhongli headcanons#zhongli x reader#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#cael is talking to 🌷 anon :0
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Fly Me to the Moon
A perfect first date with Roy Kent, despite not feeling well.
Roy Kent x Reader
1.5k words
Warnings: mentions of allergies, nothing but fluffy fluff
Of course your allergies were acting up. That made sense. It was only your first official date with Roy Kent, after you’d spent two weeks trying to sync up your schedules, so of course your allergies chose today to go into overdrive. There was no way you could put things off again; you were worried he’d think you weren’t interested, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
You’d been mad about him since you first met at Keeley’s party, where she gleefully introduced the two of you. At the end of the night, you’d exchanged phone numbers, with Roy cheekily asking if you’d be alright if he didn’t wait three days to call you. He called just as you were walking into your flat after the party, asking if you’d like to go out sometime. While the two of you tried to figure out when you were both available, you texted every day, and he even popped by your work a couple of times to say hello and bring you lunch, much to the excitement of your coworkers.
And now you laid on your bed, head aching and nose stuffed up, wondering how you were going to get through this afternoon. You didn’t want to take medication, that made you drowsy. So, you’d just have to suck it up.
You quickly got up and finished putting on your makeup, hoping to conceal some of the puffiness in your eyes. After that was hair and putting on the dress you’d had hanging up for several days now. As you chugged a giant glass of water, hoping it would somehow make your allergies disappear, your phone buzzed, letting you know that Roy was out front.
The lift was, as always, far too slow as it descended to the ground floor. As soon as the lift opened, you walked as quickly as you could out the front doors, eyes scanning the street for that giant black car you remembered from the party. It was a bit of a shock when you saw Roy standing on the sidewalk, his black ensemble contrasting with the bright bouquet of flowers he held.
“My niece told me to bring flowers. She said ladies love getting flowers on dates.” He handed them to you and planted a light kiss on your cheek, a tingly feeling lingering long after his lips left your skin. “If you don’t like them, you can blame her. She’s eight. What does she know about fucking dating?”
Keeley had warned you about this; Roy rambled when he was nervous. You instantly found it endearing.
“They’re lovely,” you assured him. “Your niece is very wise.”
Roy slipped his hand effortlessly into yours, giving it a squeeze as he led the way to his car. “She is.”
Your eyes flickered down to your hands, then up to his face. “Tell me about her.”
For most of the drive, Roy talked about his niece, Phoebe. Your heart melted at the way his face completely lit up when he spoke about all the time they spent together, clearly the best of friends. You had the feeling he didn’t always get to talk like this.
“You like space, right?” Roy’s question popped up out of nowhere.
“Space?” you repeated, not quite sure what he meant.
He nodded. “You, erm, mentioned in it one of your texts. That you wanted to be an astronomer or some shit when you were a kid?”
You were amazed that he remembered “Oh, yeah.” You let out a breathy chuckle. “Then I found out that you have to be good at maths for that, so I changed my mind. So now I’m more of a casual fan of space.”
Roy smirked. “Good, I got it right. I sort of picked the location for our date as soon as you told me about that.”
A pleased blush covered your face; you were pretty sure you’d talked about that maybe two days into texting one another. He’d been planning this for two weeks. He’d been thinking of you for two weeks.
The mystery location turned out to be the local observatory, a place you were a smidge embarrassed to admit you hadn’t been before.
“Well, I’m glad to introduce you to it,” Roy quipped as he took your hand again, leading you to the entrance. “Been here a few times with Pheebs, she loves it.” He passed the ticket booth and went straight to the entrance, where an employee scanned the tickets on his phone. “Bought these as soon as we set the date,” he informed you with a shrug. But you could see the excitement that shone in his eyes as you entered the building.
He kept your hand in his as he led you from exhibit to exhibit, pointing out his favorite things and listening intently to the comments you made and the facts that you shared, your old love of astronomy coming back to you as you prayed he ignored your sniffling. Some people gawked and waved at him; he gave curt nods of acknowledgement, but otherwise kept his attention on you, making you feel like the most important person in the world.
When he checked his phone, your heart stopped for the briefest moment, worried that maybe he wasn’t having as much fun as you were. Instead, he smiled at you, the way he’d been doing all afternoon.
“Did you want to see the planetarium show? They change it out every couple of months, I haven’t seen this one yet. It’s starting in a few minutes.”
You gave him a teasing nudge with your shoulder. “You sure Phoebe won’t mind if you saw it without her?”
Roy shrugged and pulled you towards the planetarium doors. “She’ll fucking get over it.”
If you were being very honest, you didn’t watch much of the show. You knew you saw stars and galaxies and planets, but the only thing you could really focus on was Roy and the way the lights danced across his bearded face. Your heart fluttered when he glanced at you in turn, quirking his eyebrow playfully each time your eyes met. About halfway through the show, he brought your still intertwined hands to his lips and pressed a featherlight kiss to your knuckles, making butterflies appear in your knotted stomach.
“Where to next?” you asked as the two of you left the planetarium, squeezing his hand.
Roy’s smile turned coy. “Phases of the moon,” he announced, gesturing towards the small room off to the side.
The two of you walked inside, and you were a bit relieved to find that it was empty, allowing you to be alone with Roy for the first time all day. Despite the fact that he mostly ignored the way people stared at him, you wanted a moment where he was just yours.
On the walls were images depicting each phase of the moon: new Moon, waxing crescent, first quarter, waxing gibbous, full Moon, waning gibbous, third quarter and waning crescent. Projected on the ceiling above the two of you was a moon changing phases, showing how it progressed during its cycle.
Your heart skipped a beat when you realized how dark the room was, and how close Roy stood to you. His eyes were on the ceiling, watching the changing phases. He perked up as it neared the end of the cycle.
“Full moon,” he murmured.
Before you could respond, Roy leaned down and softly pressed his lips to yours, letting his free hand gently cup your face. As your lips moved slowly in response to his, you remembered a late-night text you had sent him about a week ago:
A kiss under a full moon is probably the most romantic thing I could imagine.
Sure enough, he shot you a wide smile once you’d parted. “There. First kiss under a full moon.”
You shook your head in disbelief. “Roy Kent, you hopeless romantic.”
“Promise you won’t fucking tell anyone,” he teased. As if to bribe you, he ducked his head and kissed you again, a slower, deeper kiss now.
You’d keep all of this man’s secrets if it meant feeling his lips against yours over and over again.
Fiercely blushing, the two of you stepped back out of the exhibit, with you wondering if everyone could sense that you had just kissed Roy Kent.
His hand gripped yours tightly as he led you back to the entrance. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Great. I know a place that makes the best kebabs.”
Seemingly as soon as you stepped outside, rain began falling over the two of you, wet and heavy. You tried to keep your footsteps brisk as you crossed the parking lot that seemed much bigger than it had earlier in the afternoon.
Great, you thought. I’m puffy and stuffed up and now I’m wet. Great. Real attractive.
But then you noticed that Roy was gazing down at you, his eyes filled with adoration and tenderness. His smile went all soft when your eyes locked.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he breathed.
And right there, in the middle of a soaking wet parking lot, with your nose stuffed up and your aching head begging you to take an aspirin, you tugged him close to you, determined to get another kiss.
#he's here he's there he's every fucking where#roy kent#roy kent x reader#roy kent fanfiction#roy kent imagine#roy kent fic#roy kent fluff#roy kent fanfic#ted lasso#ted lasso imagine#ted lasso fanfic#ted lasso fic#ted lasso fluff
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you're so quick with these asks omg it's so admirable!! i was wondering if i could get a klaus x reader where reader is extremely sensitive and klaus yells at them one day and they go off crying and klaus feels terrible and does everything he can to make it up to them?
Forgive me?
Klaus was having an awful day. Witches had been attacking the Mikaelsons all week and he ended up being abducted and tortured before killing each and every last witch.
He stormed up the stairs past my room, i could see him covered in blood, clearly still in some sort of pain so i went to help. I opened his door and slowly approached him as he sat with his head in his hands
“hey, you okay?” i asked softly reaching out to touch his arm
“just go away y/n.” he replied gruffly
“you’re still hurt, i can i help-“
“i said go away!” he spoke a little louder his hands gripping my arms to the point where it began to hurt
“Klaus i’m just trying to hel-“
“I DON’T WANT YOUR HELP! so get out.” his face was centimetres away from mine, his eyes gold and veins beneath them, i could feel the tears welling in my eyes and i glanced down at where he was still grabbing me. He did too and noticed the red marks on my skin, he instantly let go and looked back at me. I quickly left the room and went back to my own locking the door behind me and curling into my bed.
i tried to sniff back the tears as i rubbed my arms down and hugged myself to try fall asleep. I could hear Klaus smashing things a few doors down but decided it was best to stay out his way.
i avoided him from that day afraid to push him off the edge with his temper. It was rare that he would show his temper when i was around, he knew it upset me so i normally stayed out the way.
it had been nearly a week, i spoke to him a little when he made small talk or i was talking to Rebekah and he joined the conversation. He didn’t seem particularly bothered that we weren’t talking which just made me feel worse, would he notice if i didn’t acknowledge him altogether?
So i didn’t for a week and a half before he said anything
“is this still about that night? honestly y/n don’t you think it’s getting a little pathetic? i’m over it already, you should be to” his eyes rolled and his arms were crossed as though he were a moody child. I decided against saying anything and simply walked back upstairs. i heard him sigh before his footsteps became distant
The next morning there was a box outside my bedroom door, i took it and opened it on my bed, inside was a necklace, it was clearly expensive, never even touched i reluctantly and felt how heavy it was further proving its worth. I sighed and put the lid back on the box and walked down to Klaus’s room, i put it by his door and went out for the day.
As soon as i got in i could feel his presence, his eyes were on me as i entered my room to find it filled with flowers, bouquets of roses,peonies tulips and growing sunflowers by the window. I felt the air rush beside me and two hands were on my shoulders
“do you like it?” he asked, the hope in his voice made me wanna hug him but he didn’t understand that although it’s an excellent surprise or present, but it’s not an apology
“it’s lovely Klaus but…i don’t want your gifts or your money” his warmth left me and he took a step back
“what do you want then!? A bloody parade??” his tone was harsh and demanding making my eyes drop to the floor
“i didn’t mean to say it like that” he whispered trying to catch my eye but u just walked into the plant infested room
This continued for a few days before eventually i woke up without an ‘apology gift’. I went about my day and everything was normal until i got back to the compound
there were fairy lights everywhere and i could smell something cooking, i put my bag down quietly and wondered to the dining room, the table was set for two places and soft jazz music in the background
i walked a little further to the kitchen to see Klaus dishing up whatever he had made. i leaned against the doorframe and watched the domestic scene play out, his body swaying a little to the music while he rushed about to find which bottle of wine he wanted. Once he had position the plates on one of his arms and the wine glasses in another and the bottle nearly slipping as he tried to hold it against himself, he looked up to see me fighting a laugh
“how long have you been there” he said as a blush crawled up his neck
“not long why? afraid i’d see you dancing?” he gave a nervous laugh and walked towards the next room, i move out his way as he put everything down where it needed to be
“planning a date?” i asked with a tilt of my head, a small pang of jealousy hit me as i swallowed it down
“um..kind of…no?…it’s an apology dinner..date…thing…” i smiled a little as i watched him play with his hands
“an apology?” i asked and he nodded pulling my seat out which i took with a ‘thank you’. He sat in his chair and picked up his fork, we both got halfway through our meals before he said anything
“i’m sorry” he spoke quietly and took a sip of his drink to avoid eye contact
“for?”
“yelling…and…and grabbing you. And then being or talking aggressively”
“and trying to buy my forgiveness?”
“well that actually seemed like a good idea at the time but i suppose i’m sorry for that too”
we looked at each other for a minute before i broke into a smile and took another bite of my food
“i forgive you but only because you look cute in your apron” he looked down and noticed he was still wearing it. His hands rubbed his face as he laughed
“bloody hell” he groaned and i laughed
“i’m serious you look adorable i mean just A-dor-a-ble”
#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson one shot#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus michaelson#klaus mikealson fanfiction#the originals#klaus m#klaus mikaelson x y/n#niklaus imagines#niklaus mikaelson#the vampire diares imagine#klaus mikaelson fluff#tvd klaus#klaus mikaelson headcanon#kol mikaelson#the vampire diaries#hope mikaelson#klaus mikaelson yandere#klaus mikealson smut#rebekah mikaelson#elijah mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x yn#tvd universe#klaus mikealson x reader#tvdedit#tvd smut#tvd#soft!klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x oc
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Hi I hope your having a good day!
I was wondering if for the tmnt bros (all 4, 2003) what would happen if say they had a shy sorta insecure S/O and they had sorta planned a date with S/O mentioning that they had a surprise planned for their BF. Fast forward to later the the turtle kinda forgot due to having a mission after finishing it they and their bros need to get something from his room, Where they'd find the S/O in lingerie, on their bed, covered in flower petals and even candles the same color of their turtle boyfriend's mask and they say something flirty before opening their eyes seeing all the bros there instead of just their boyfriend, get super flustered and accidentally knock a candle down almost causing a fire, and while trying to cover themself just face plants onto the floor getting a nosebleed in the process and a slight concussion.
afterwards poor S/O cant look at the other turtles for about a week and and their not even mad just feeling a bit humiliated and saying stuff like "yeah it was a dumb idea anyways, probably wont do it again in the future" Though they do kinda find it a little funny later on about how badly it went
Thank you for your writings! I really enjoy them
Awe! I’m glad you do!! It makes me giddy to see that people genuinely enjoy my writings!! <3 Also I love this idea! I’d actually die if this ever happened to me ngl 💀
Seduction Disaster!
🐢💙❤️2003 TMNT x Reader💜🧡🐢
Word Count: 1606
CW: Gender-neutral reader, a bit of a crack-fic, DW there’s some fluff involved too! A tad bit spicy(?), all characters are over the age of 18, in their early 20s! Enjoy!
T/N - Turtle Name
B/N - Brother Name
Oh, it was a stupid idea, a REALLY stupid idea. To say you regretted it, would be an understatement… In your defense you just wanted to give your boyfriend something nice! It took you a long while, but you had finally built up some confidence to finally impress your boyfriend and maybe try and give him a night to remember. Oh did you not intend THIS to be the night to remember.
Your boyfriend was out on a mission, one that took longer than expected, but it gave you enough time to put your plan into motion! You bought the candles, bought the roses and you got your lingerie. Alright everything was going well, just according to plan… You warned Splinter not to go into T/N’s room, to which he complied and just stayed in the dojo to meditate. Great. That was great for you, so you suited up slipped into your lingerie and checked yourself out in his mirror to make sure everything was good and fitted perfectly. DAMN, did you look good! This made you even more confident in all of this and got everything else set and ready to go!
Finally, the guys arrived back home, T/N groaning as he flopped onto the couch tiredly, not even remembering at the time that you had something planned for him in his bedroom. He was exhausted and a little brain dead at the moment, so when one of his brothers asked if they could grab something from his room that they left in there, he nonchalantly gave them the go-ahead, not thinking much about it.
You were laid out on the bed, awaiting his arrival, your eyes closed as you took deep breaths to ready yourself. Once you heard the door open, you started with, “Welcome home ba—” once you opened your eyes, you were greeted with the wrong turtle, and your heart dropped. And honestly, B/N was staring at you with a look of horror and shock. You let out a shriek as you rushed to cover yourself, ultimately failing as you slipped out of the bed and landed on your face, a little too hard. You barely noticed the blanket catch on fire as B/N panicked and called for T/N’s help, to which he bolted in and panicked.
Yeah… Not a fun time to say the least. Donnie ended up having to patch you up, help you with your bleeding nose and made sure you didn’t fall asleep because of your concussion. You were so embarrassed, you couldn’t even look into B/N’s eyes for a while, or any of T/N’s brothers eyes for that matter…
🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢
💙 Leo didn’t realize that you had something planned for him until the moment he heard your shrieks come from his bedroom and Donnie’s panicked yells for Leo brought him back to his senses. You planned something for him, and he completely forgot. He hurried to his room, freezing when he saw you face-first onto the ground and his blanket on fire.
💙 Luckily, Donnie was quick to put out the fire while Leo was by your side in an instant. Mikey and Raph rushed to the room to check things out while Leo covered your body while making sure you were okay. He could not forgive himself for this for a LONG while, not when he saw your face when he pulled you off the ground. After Donnie made sure you were okay, and was quick to move on with the situation, he left you alone with Leo.
💙 He comforted you the rest of the night, holding you close and kissing your face softly as he murmured soft little apologies. He’d make it up to you, and he swore that he would. He became EXTRA protective of you too, and was always sure to check his bedroom first before his brothers went in, he even set a ground-rule not to go into his bedroom until he’s made sure nothing’s going on in there. Yeah maybe he’s going a little far, but it’s appreciated.
🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢
❤️ He didn’t see it coming, but he sure did hear it, that shriek he knew rather well, and Mikey’s yelling of, “WOAH! I DID NOT NEED TO SEE THAT!” Raph bolted to his room without a second thought, and oh the sight that greeted him, you face first on the ground and Mikey standing there, frozen and panicking. “WELL DON’T JUST STAND THERE SHELL BRAIN! HELP ME PUT OUT THE FIRE!” Raph yelled at Mikey as the two worked on putting out the fire first, soon Leo joining in once he heard the commotion.
❤️ Once he knew it was done, he chased out his brothers before hurrying to your side, eyes wide and panicked, “Dollface! You okay?!” He sat you up as you had tears of embarrassment rolling down your eyes and a bleeding nose. He was quick to sit you back on his bed as he grabbed an extra blanket. After he’s carefully wrapped you, he scoops you up and hurries to find Donnie, “Hey brainiac! Need some help here!” Donnie rolled his eyes before he was greeted by the sight of your bruised forehead and bleeding nose. Biting back the sarcastic remark, he was quick to take care of you.
❤️ After you were all taken care of, Raph took you back to his room, laid you on the bed, put out all the candles, before curling up beside you. He swore to himself he’d never let this happen again. And boy, did he make sure it didn’t not only that, he became like your bodyguard, actually scratch that, he was more of your guarddog. When you were recovering, he made sure to do everything you asked and never left your side. If anybody tried to check in, he was quick to tell them to buzz off. It was your guys time, nobody was interrupting it this time.
🐢💜Donatello💜🐢
💜 Donnie relaxed against the couch, the TV playing mindless nonsense as he just gave his brain a break from the rough mission. When he was about to doze off, Leo would tell him he was heading to his lab, to which he didn’t think much of until he heard a loud shriek and Leo yelling apologies, causing alarm for everyone. Donnie was fast on his feet and bolted to his lab, seeing the scene, he panicked. First of all, you’re hurt, second… FLAMMABLE ITEMS IN HIS LAB!!!
💜 He panicked, but was quick, he took a blanket and covered you first before yelling to Leo, “Help me put out the flames!” To which, the both of them did, Raph and Mikey soon joining while Splinter would wait outside the lab, worried. Once everything was said and done, Donnie gently scooped you up and headed to his little examination table, gently laying you down as you whined out in pain. He didn’t take too long to take care of you, cleaning up your nose and stopping the bleeding, before keeping a close eye on you because of the concussion.
💜 He would be so sweet and gentle with you, whispering small reassuring things as he took care of you. He always shushed you when you tried to apologize about the whole thing, I mean, it was both of your guys fault, Donnie not remembering, and you not thinking of that possibility. Donnie felt at fault for the most part for it, because if he remembered this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Either way, he would cuddle with you the whole night, watching a movie to help distract you both from that disaster.
🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢
🧡 Mikey got up and actually ended up microwaving some pizza, as he felt pretty damn hungry. While he was doing that, staring intently at the microwave, he heard Raph call out to him about needing something back from him and that he was checking his room. Mikey gave him the go-ahead and continued to wait, until he heard Raph scream and you shriek from his bedroom.
🧡 This man has never moved so fast in his life, Donnie and Leo right on his tail as they stumble into his room. Raph was panicking over you, unsure of what to do, meanwhile the main concern for Leo and Donnie was the fire! Those two worked on it while Mikey was by your side in an instant, in this situation he couldn’t even joke to try and distract you and make you feel better, he just wrapped you up in his arms and held you close.
🧡 Once the whole fiasco was taken care of and Donnie fixed you up, Mikey was trying so hard to cheer you up and keep your mind off of what just happened. He even sacrificed his last slice of pizza to you, before getting all cozy with you. He was very doting that night, making sure you were okay, because honestly he was never this worried. You ended up sleeping in his arms that night with him holding you in a protective manner.
Yeah… You were never doing that again, despite being spoiled by your partner and taken care of after everything was said and done, you’d rather not face the embarrassment of his brother walking in on you again when you’re in such a vulnerable position meant for T/N. It will never happen again, ESPECIALLY not with candles, if T/N wants candles he will be lighting them up himself.
Luckily now you can finally look B/N in the eyes after everything and laugh it off while feeling yourself die inside after everything. Mistakes were made, and you certainly learned from that whole experience.
#sprite writes#fanfic#tmnt x reader#tmnt#tmnt 2003#tmnt 2k3#tmnt 2003 x reader#2003 leo#2003 raph#2003 donnie#2003 mikey#leonardo x reader#raphael x reader#donatello x reader#michelangelo x reader#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt raphael x reader#tmnt donatello x reader#tmnt michelangelo x reader#leo x reader#raph x reader#donnie x reader#mikey x reader
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Arthur(Merlin) x reader - in the snow
Hi! If you still write for BBC Merlin would you be able to write an Arthur x Merlin sister Reader? With the dialogue “Can you use magic?” “I feel unsafe answering that.” (from your 2024 prompt list). Thank you if you do write it! <3 - Anon💜
A/N: I realised I had spelled Gaius wrong after finishing this, but I’m really lazy and don’t wanna correct it 😂😭
You had no real interest in following your brothers footsteps to work for the royal family, you didn’t want to work for anybody else.
You were happy living on your own, away from the world with your house and your dog, your horse, your flowers.
You loved the way you lived.
And yes, every so often the knights would come to pick up your money you had to pay for your land, but since you grew your own food and sold your crafts in towns and villages it didn’t matter all that much to you.
Today was the day that they came to collect your payment, so you made sure to stay home.
Kneeling down in your garden, you were working on your flowers, carefully tidying them up and trimming them down.
You heard a bark, and you looked up.
“Rufus?”
Standing up, you brushed your hands on the cloth and looked to the dirt path where a few horses were coming down.
You grinned brightly when you saw a familiar face.
“Merlin!”
You quickly set everything down and made your way over, the moment your brother got down from his horse your crushed him into a hug.
“Hi!” You beamed.
Merlin laughed quietly, hugging you back.
“Hey, this place looks amazing.”
You pulled away, grinning proudly at him.
“I take pride in my work.”
You turned around to the knights and the prince that was with him, offering him a bow.
It was swift, elegant, you held a hand behind your back and one over your stomach as you leant down, lowering your head.
“Sire, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m (Y/N), I do hope my brother doesn’t give you too much trouble.”
“Nothing I can’t handle, thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”
You stood up, gesturing to the home.
“Rufus is no harm, I’m sure Sir Lancelot knows that.”
The knight smiled softly at you.
“It’s good to see you again.”
“You as well, I’ve got that tea you asked me for, would you like me to make you some?”
“Yes please, honestly you could open a tea shop because you make the best tea.”
You laughed a little bit, leading them all inside.
Only those three came inside, the other knights waited outside for them.
You sat them at a table, bringing over some bread you had made, and you made them all some tea, setting their cups down in front of them.
“Make yourselves at home, I’ll be right back.”
You went into your room, bringing up a floorboard to gather the money you owed before returning and handing it over.
Then you turned to Arthur.
“May I ask what brings you by sire? Normally this is not a matter for a Prince.”
“Merlin had been begging me for weeks to come, i guess it was curiosity to finally meet his sister. You’ve done wonderful things with this land. It was rundown the last I saw.”
“Thank you, the home itself was in good shape, it was a simple matter of getting some men from the village nearby to help clear it then set everything else up.”
Arthur nodded his head.
“How is it going? Have you been selling those crafts?” Merlin asked.
“Oh yes! People love them! They’re very helpful as well, especially for the farmers and the bakers, plant based baskets are easier to replace rather wood, and harder to break.”
Merlin nodded his head.
“You make things out of plants?”
“Yes sire, it is easier to get ahold of around here, they’re easier to work with as well. Especially Ivy. It is easy to manipulate the way it grows, and you can cut some away with the rest coming back.”
That was what caught his attention first, how compared to Merlin you were calmer, you were respectful to everybody even though you didn’t know them, and your craft.
Then there was your house, minimum decorations, just basic things you would need.
But outside was covered in flowers of all colours, the great wolfhound you rescued wondering in and out, and the horse outside just happily grazing in her paddock.
Arthur found himself coming back when he could, pretending to buy things that they needed in Camelot.
It was an excuse to see you, and he could try get there at least once a week since it was only a few hours there and back.
Arthur had to admit he was concerned when it drew to winter, because winter was harsh, and he couldn’t see how you would be able to survive there during the brutal winter.
“She’ll be fine, she always is. She knows how to get survive.” Merlin said.
“Merlin we are looking at the worst winter we’ve seen in years. It’s not even winter and we’re already getting snow. Your sister will be isolated out there for months if this carried on.”
Merlin paused what he was doing for a moment before he carried on.
“She won’t come here.”
“Excuse me?”
“(Y/N), if you ask her to come she won’t come.”
“Why?”
“Because she likes her own space, she doesn’t like crowded places like this and wouldn’t be able to live here for that long, a week or so would be fine.”
Arthur didn’t say anything, he carried on reading the book that was sat on the table in front of him.
“She’s also coming next week, to visit Guis.”
Arthur snapped his head up.
“Really?”
Merlin smirked a little, lowering his head as he carried on working.
“Yes sire.”
Arthur threw the book at Merlin who just barely dodged it and he left the room.
You arrived a few days later, staying mostly with Guis or Merlin if you could.
Arthur finally managed to find you while he was heading back inside the castle, you were stood outside with Rufus catching snowballs you threw.
He made his way outside, standing next to you.
“It’s far too cold to be outside.”
You turned around, offering him a smile.
“It’s nothing I’m not sure to this time of year, I was actually thinking about taking a walk. Do you know any good trails?”
“There is one, it’s possibly the safest. I’ll accompany you if you don’t mind? If anything happens to you I won’t hear the end of it from Merlin.”
You laughed softly at him.
“Yes fine by me sire.”
“Right, come wait inside.”
You followed him, and waited in the hallway.
It took a short while for him to come back, and he held out a thicker more elegant cloak out for you.
“Wear this.”
“Sire I can’t, that’s much to rich for somebody like me.”
“(Y/N) put the cloak on, and call me Arthur.”
You didn’t want to disobey him, so you put it on and he led you outside.
You could see that a few people walked the trail, but not many, and you two held light conversation as you walked.
It was nice for him to not have to act so important, and you were talking to him just like a normal person, as if you two were from the same town or village.
You enjoyed stopping to look at simple things, animals in the snow, the way the sunlight gleamed on the snow making it sparkle.
Arthur was just entranced by you, and how you just seemed so happy.
“You’re always so happy when I see you, why?”
“What is there to not be happy about? I have a home, a brother, a mother, I have friends, food. There is always something to be happy about.”
Arthur hummed a little, nodding his head.
“You wouldn’t want more in life?”
“Not when I already have everything. You don’t need to be rich to be happy, as long as you find something or someone that makes you happy it’s alright.”
Arthur glanced at you, and he smiled a little.
“That’s a very different take in the world.”
You beamed brightly at him, kneeling down to make another snowball for Rufus.
“Hey, look out!”
Arthur went to grab you but it was too late, you slipped down the hill, and he was rushing as fast as he could behind you.
When he reached the bottom he knelt down.
“Hey, hey (Y/N)?”
You grumbled a little, lifting your head to look at him.
“Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“My leg.”
Arthur nodded, looking down at your leg, gently touching it and you winced in pain.
“Here, come on, let’s move you up.”
Arthur helped you up, and you guys slowly walked along the bottom of the hill to try and find a way back up.
After a while you had to stop, so he took his cloak off and laid it on the snow and sat you down.
Rufus laid next to you letting out a whine.
“I’ll try find a way, I’ll be right back.”
You nodded your head, watching him leave.
You knew there wasn’t going to be one, a hill like that there wasn’t going to be a way back up that wasn’t covered in snow.
Making sure it was safe, you held out your hand, whispering something under your breath, and a small trail in the snow fell away, creating a path up.
You ran a hand over your dogs head, scratching behind his ears.
Arthur wasn’t gone long, and he came back, shaking his head.
“I couldn’t find one, I’m sorry.”
He knelt next to you, looking at your leg again.
“I did find some sticks though, do you have anything in that bag to help me make a splint?”
“Oh, of course.”
Opening it, you pulled out your scarf, handing it over to him.
“It’s not the best, but it should help. We’ll sit here and rest, then keep going. I think there’s a storm coming in.”
“I think I saw a path just over there, could you look?”
Arthur looked at where you were pointing.
“Yeah, of course.”
He got up, checking.
He made sure it was stable before grabbing you, helping you up it, then he crouched down.
“Get on.”
“I can’t do that, a Prince can’t be seen carrying someone like me.”
“I don’t care, you’re hurt, get on.”
You sighed, climbing on his back and he stood up, making his way back where you guys had come from.
“I’ll take you to Guis, hopefully you leg isn’t that bad.”
You nodded, resting your chin on his shoulder.
“How did you see the path, I didn’t see it.”
“Maybe in the panic you missed it? Or it blended in the with snow?”
“No, no it definitely wasn’t there.”
Arthur went quiet for a few moment.
“There’s only one thing I can think off.”
“What’s that Arthur?”
He paused walking, crouching down to set you on the ground before turning around to look at you.
“Can you use magic?”
You tried not to react.
“I feel unsafe answering that.”
“(Y/N), can you use magic?
“If I say yes you’ll have me killed, if I say no you’re not going to believe me, and have me killed. I’m sorry but I can’t answer.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes a little bit, and he spun around to a noise behind him but there was nothing.
Turning back around his cloak and yours were on the ground, and you and Rufus were both gone, leaving not even a footprint in the snow
#bbc Merlin#bbc merlin x reader#bbc Merlin x you#bbc Merlin imagine#arthur pendragon imagine#arthur pendragon#arthur pendragon x reader#Arthur pendragon x you
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