#also had so much fun filling up the two bookcases
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is very much bare but i like this also this Kiczen cc is so good omgg cc creators are godsent i wanted to make a white and graysish-blue interior and m satisfied
#also had so much fun filling up the two bookcases#also i refreshed my cc folder as in deleted and copies in again and for some reason a lot of cc finally activated??? idk why they didn’t#ts4#work before but fortunately do now :)#i’m not using any cas cc so my laptop can handle the builds so please excuse my man in the corner#my builds
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oooo new idea for thief! daniel au— reader goes to some masquerade type gala/ball at a family friends house for an event and there’s obviously some nice pieces of art there so daniel sneaks into said gala to steal shit and reader is like trying to stop danny from stealing all night so she’s kinda following him around but he’s just having fun messing w her and making her flustered.. maybe ends with them fucking in one of the guest rooms 🫢
-👾 anon
I finally found the time to write this lmao but you know I loveeee this au, also I changed the idea a little bit lmao
People everywhere, ballgowns and tuxedos filled the hallways and every room imaginable. The masks covered their eyes or if they felt like, their entire faces. You wandered the house, politely smiling as you made your way up the staircase and into the library.
It was the only room unoccupied asides from the bedrooms. You shut the door quietly behind you when you stepped in. The mood peeked through the stained glass, the patterns reflected into the floor; two shadows along with it.
Yours and someone else.
Your blood runs cold for a moment but then it hits you.
“What are you doing here.. again?” You ask, finally turning to face the person. The man smiles, “would you believed me if I said I missed you?” Daniel asks and you resisted the urge to smile.
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“It’s the truth,” his knuckles slid down the curve of your jaw, his thumb pinching at your cheek softly. You took a step back, turning to walk towards the large window, Daniel’s footsteps following yours. “Is that why you’re in here all alone?” You ask the man, his hand reaching up to undo the knot that kept your mask in place.
The mask dropped to the floor with a small thud and his hand reaches for your arm, turning you to face him. “Where is it?” He asks and your brows furrow, your eyes studying his face; no mask, as if he wanted you to know it was him all along.
“Where is..” You ask and he glances down, what he was looking for was right in front of him.
Daniel’s fingers dragged across the necklace you had on, the diamonds laid flat against your skin. “Do you know how much this is worth?” He mumbles against your skin when he leans in to kiss your neck softly. Instinctively, your head tilts to one side, giving him the space he wanted and needed.
“It’s a family heirloom,” you tell him and you can feel him reaching around to unclasp the chain. “It’s worth millions.” He holds the necklace up, admiring it.
“That old thing?” Your words earn you a chuckle, “so naive, so caught up in your own world,” he says, leaning in to kiss you.
“You can’t keep doing this,” you whisper to him, letting yourself be pulled by the bookcase by Daniel. He’s got you between him and the shelves, “do what? I'm not doing anything you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t..” “What?” He asks, “say it.”
Daniel pulls your leg up, your heel digging into the back of his thigh. Your eyes find his, your hand reaching up to rest on the back of his neck. Your forehead pressed to his, “I thought so.” He says, smiling.
It was hot, heavy, rushed. You had limited time, someone could walk in at any point but you didn’t care; neither of you did.
Daniel was all you could focus on; his hands, his touch, his lips, the way he felt in you.
He kissed you once more, letting you fix your dress when he was done. “I’ll come see you another time.” He says, pulling on the strings on the mask, putting the knot back in place.
“You can’t do that.” You turn to face him, he smiles at you. “I’ll see you another time.” He says; a statement, not a question.
And with that, you stepped out of the library. “Y/n, darling.” Your grandmother calls for you when she sees you, “I have been looking for you everywhere, what were you doing in there?”
“Oh.. I needed a moment alone.” You fib and she doesn’t quite believe you but nonetheless, she moves on. “Where is your necklace? Your neck looks bare.”
Your brows furrow, a hand coming up to touch where the diamonds previous sat. “I put them in my bedroom.”
You lie once more, the diamonds long gone in the hands of your secret lover.
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FALLOUT 4 HEADCANON MASTERPOST
two and a half years ago (👀) I posted a list of headcanons right around when I started playing around with the ideas in my fallout WIP
I've decided they ( 1 + 2 ) need to be updated and added to especially after Death Shroud gave me so many great ideas/things I want to steal. Added break to save you dash my loves <3
I will keep adding to this lmao
SECTIONS:
Post #1 Revisions
Post #2 Revisions
Death Shroud Stuff I'm Kidnapping
Misc Stuff From Asks, Mods, and My Brain (AKA THE LONGEST SECTION)
From #1 (Link Here)
We are keeping chair bound Murphy
I may or may not be recanting my gangly tall 'n thin Hancock HC. I oscillate wildly between wanting him to be Eldritch God™ tall and "gimme uppies! :3" short. He may end up being both. His height will be whatever is funniest for the bit.
oh yeah Sarah Lyons got merc-ed B)
We are still kicking with Kellogg in Nicky's skull but with the added angsty-ness brought in by Death Shroud. Oh the plot! Oh how it hurts so good! Kellogg wanting to find someway to punish the SoleSu(s) and Nick for picking through his memories? Ugh! Give me it all.
We are cutting Billy and the Fridge. I don't want to deal with the nightmare plot holes it will bring up and Quincy will already have enough BS. Plus the more I think about it the less I like the whole quest and its placement. Fuck! Maybe he'll be referenced in Publick Occurrences? I don't care! We're loosey goosey bay-be!
- 10. can stay. I have no issues with them and nothing funny to add
From #2 (Link Here)
Now I can bring up my beloved Vault-Tec Rep. Him in the Death Shroud? Perfect. Beautiful. Stunning. I no longer have to call him Paul Eiding as a very direct nod to his VO. Our Beloved David Dwecker is married to Sheffield and they have a house in Sanctuary filled with Nuka-Cola memorabilia (for Sheffield) and collectable plates (the kind grandmothers display for our lovely Rep). They have a little sitting area set up in the carport where they hangout, smoke, and dance together to Diamond City Radio. I need this for my mental health okay?
Shaun being Autistic is something I really want to explore. I truly forget who I first saw say this but it is not an original idea by any means. I also think the poor thing would have some level of trauma from everything so exploring that is gonna be fun! (no it will not oh my god I'm going to dredge up all my childhood issues.)
OHHHH CHRISTMAS. YULETIDE. FEAST OF ST. NICHOLAS. I find the "Seth Patrick" bit SO funny in Death Shroud so that is staying but also I feel like the feast of St. Nicholas got jokingly flipped into a celebration of Nick Valentine (Same with Valentine's Day) and people are beginning to forget the correct version. Nick tolerates it with an eye roll and a wry joke about people needing to read their history books but secretly finds the whole thing funny. Ellie has a santa suit for Nick to don during "his" holiday. Also the school children in Diamond City send Nick "Valentines" on valentines day and he displays them on his corkboard.
Music. My god the Johnny Guitar bit had me by the throat during Death Shroud. Expand those music libraries! Before you know it I'm gonna give Travis a rolling ladder attached to bookcases upon bookcases of records and holotapes. I want to hear people complain about how many Andrews Sisters records survived and God why won't Travis stop playing them!
The Flavor of Goodneighbor needs to be so complex. Like a good pasta sauce. I better be so overcome by the layers and smells and textures. Better Goodneighbor and Better Third Rail are really good starts but I'm expanding the shit out of both of them I think. I want to feel like Goodneighbor truly is dangerous to be in. Being able to cross most of the town in one sprint burst isn't cutting it Bethany Esda! Make it truly baffling how Hancock knows so much about the happenings in his town.
- 8. are about the BoS and I stand by them. You will get to meet my Lone Wanderer and learn about the hierarchies a little better. I redesigned the Orders and added one I think? I have to re-sort those notes lmao. Also the piloting thing is like MAJORLY important to me because the frequency of vertibird crashes in game pissed me off to no end.
From Death Shroud (@chadfallout76podcast THANK YOU)
Danse is just... Like That now. I can't wait to explore his character before and after Blind Betrayal especially because he will not be leaving the Brotherhood and he will still be Like That. [spoiler warning ;) for my story lol] I can't wait for the beautiful moments that will be born of it.
I actually kind of love some of the plot points in Death Shroud like the Mob Family wars? Staying 100%. Same with Ma and Boss Lombardo and some of the other families.
As is Charlie but I refuse to let him die. I got very attached to Charlie and his death was so perfect but this time he gets to stay alive dammit.
Magnolia sending Magnolia flowers with her letters? Genius
Vault-Tec Rep (David my beloved) being the saddest, wettest cat of a man imaginable when he's in Goodneighbor? Also fucking genius.
"Fish-lips" Malone being part of the same family as Skinny has me so excited for more mob family bullshit.
Ruffino's and the Black Rose is being transplanted somewhere and maybe might be near the Combat Zone. New den of sin anyone?
Obviously I'm not going to attempt to pull apart the fabric of reality in-canon but my god Death Shroud was fun <3
Some new Misc HCs
Diamond City is bigger and more populated, kind of in the same vein as the Goodneighbor HC. I haven't found a mod layout I like so I might end up redesigning it (Please kill me)
This is an old one from an ask! Hancock will help work the bar at the Third Rail occasionally. He's a notorious show off and his cocktails are mainly just straight liquor but he entertains the hell out of people when he dives over the bar to take orders and bother Whitechapel Charlie. There are major losses on nights he bartends due to the fact he forgets (sometimes purposefully) to take payment. Regulars know to put the cash in the tip jar so Whitechapel can collect it at the end of the night.
Another thing I'm keeping from an ancient ask, Danse wants kids. Badly. And the crushing blow of being sterile really fucks with him for a while. but he eventually comes to terms with it. He's also still touchy (as in he's always touching his partner) per that ask because I think that's cute.
I'm just going through old asks now lmao. Nick and Ellie dance together like the true father-daughter pair they are
I forgot who drew this but I once saw someone pair Sturges and Ellie together and that is the cutest damn thing so it stays.
MacReady got the Lone Wanderer's Grognak magazine as a gift for letting them into Little Lamplight and it's one of his prized possessions.
Macready and the Lone Wanderer's reunion is very cute my dudes.
More general slice of life stuff like fishing on the mainland and boats, more things to do in general, transportation, cool amputees, and other shit listed in this post I reblogged YEARS ago
OH Travis and Scarlett get married <3
Danny Sullivan skips town after taking the fun way down from the mayor's office and travels with some cross country caravans before coming back to work in Diamond City. YES HE LIVES!
Holy fuck i forgot I had this mod but the Institute projects the sky up on their ugly concrete dome because this mod fucks hard
Just the general vibe of raiders employing children and stringing more dead mutilated bodies about. There are mods for that and let me tell you they make the raider camps horrifying. No I will not be linking them. But they are available on Nexus should you want them.
Okay I'm changing the layout of everything apparently: Including but not limited to the Railroad HQ, The Prydwen, Vault 111, etc. Fuck game design I guess lmao. I like XFreakish's Railroad Redone and NordKitten's A Sensible Prydwen Overhaul for in game and basically plan to build off of them.
The asks: Hancock bartending, Danse wanting kids and being into physical affection, Nick and Ellie Dancing + MacReady and the LW's Grognak (same ask)
#fallout 4#fo4#fo4 headcanons#headcanons#fo4 headcanon#death shroud#nick valentine#john hancock#paladin danse#fo4 companions#rj maccready#sole survivor#Jericho Writes
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Christmas Sniffles: Chapter 5
Summary: Right around the holidays, Peter 1 gets sick.
MJ didn't have to worry too much. Even with Peter 1's super hearing, the kid slept through pretty much every bump, crunch, and squeak. He even managed to sleep through Three's off-key version of 'All I Want for Christmas is You'. Though, he did groan a little on the high note.
As it neared dinner time, Peter 2 gently shook the youngest awake. "Peter? . . . Peter."
"Mmm." The youngest blinked awake. "Hm?"
"Time to get up bud."
Peter 1 sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What?"
"It's time for dinner."
Peter 3 stepped over to the couch. "Nice mohawk Pete."
The youngest Peter grinned. "Three!"
The middle brother wrapped One in a hug. "Hey Bug. Sorry you're not feeling the best."
Peter 1 eagerly returned the hug. "I'm feeling a little better."
"You still feel pretty warm." The middle Peter adjusted his hold on the youngest so he could press his fingers to the youngest's forehead.
Peter 2 chuckled when he saw Peter 1 squirm away from the touch and claim he was fine. "Wehe both know that's not entirely true Bug. You're getting there, but you're not quite yet."
Peter 3 gently ruffled One's hair. "So that means we become overprotective caregivers who spoil you."
The youngest blushed at the added attention. He was never one to take care from others very well. Thankfully, he was saved by MJ and Gwen entering the room with a tray of soup bowls.
"The kitchen is a mess right now so I thought it would be fun to eat out here," MJ explained.
Two sheepishly looked at the stack of boxes in front the fireplace. "Not much better out here I'm afraid."
"We also wanted to bug Peter 1," Gwen replied as she sat on One's other side. "You two have had him most of the evening."
Peter 3 playfully pulled Peter 1 closer. "No! I just got him!"
"Be gentle you two. He's still not 100% so you can't be too rough," MJ warned.
One's face was a solid mass of red. "Hey!"
Two wrapped an arm around MJ. "Come on, let's eat first. Then you two can fight over him."
"No! Don't fight over me!" One whined.
"Someone's hangry." Three ruffled the youngest's hair again then reached forward to grab a bowl of soup and place it in the youngest's hands.
"Dig in everybody!" MJ encouraged.
Dinner soon became a whirlwind of conversation as the small group enjoyed their meal. Throughout the process, the two older Peters strategically waited until One's hands were filled before doing things he would try to fight them on. Peter 2 reheated the pad in his Stegasorus toy, Peter 3 wrapped him in blankets, and the older two took turns occasionally pinching his cheeks on the way to fill up his water cup.
Of course, Peter 1 was a blushy mess from all of the extra attention. On top of that, MJ and Gwen fretted over him too, making the youngest Peter even more flustered. "I'm not a baby, I can take care of myself."
Two stood and turned to MJ. "Why don't Three and I take over the kitchen while you guys get started on decorating the Christmas tree?"
"Thank you honey." MJ gave him a kiss then turned to Peter 1. "And you stay put. I have a job I need you to do."
Peter 1 squirmed free of Three's impromptu hug. "What do you need?"
MJ walked over to the bookcase and came back with a box of small clear ornaments and some glitter and glue. "It's simple. You'll take the ornament, coat the bottom in glue, glitter, then set it upside down in the box to dry. Once they're dry, we'll decorate them."
One let out a relieved breath. "I can do that."
Two tugged the middle brother's arm. "Come on Three. We've got work to do."
Three pouted a little, but followed Two into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Peter 1 was set up to decorate the ornaments while the two ladies decorated the Christmas tree. Of course, his movements were still weak and shaky, but he tried his hardest to make the ornaments as evenly coated as possible. He was just thankful to have a job he could do that got him semi out of couch restrictions.
Once One finished the last one, he took a breath. "Hey MJ, I finished."
The older woman admired the ornaments. "Thank you Peter. These are going to look great on the tree."
Gwen placed another ornament on the tree. "How long will they take to dry?"
"Shouldn't be too long." MJ set the box aside. "The instructions said half an hour should be enough."
One scrubbed his face.
"Do you need a rest sweetheart?"
The youngest sat up straighter. "No, I'm okay." He stretched. "Just stretching."
The older two women shared a look but didn't push the youngest. Instead, MJ gave him some paper and scissors. "Want to help me with a surprise?"
"Sure?"
MJ sat beside him. "It's for my Peter."
"Oh?"
Our first Christmas together, we couldn't afford a tree. So on Christmas Eve, we cut out a bunch of snowflakes and hung them around our apartment. Since this is our first Christmas with a big family, I wanted to surprise him by covering the living room with snowflakes."
A smile grew on Peter 1's face. His brother and his wife were really cute sometimes.
"I made most of them, but I need a few more. Can I count on you?"
The smile on Peter 1's face grew as he took the paper and scissors. "Yes, yohou can count on me."
"Thank you sweetie, and remember." MJ leaned close to whisper in One's ear. "It's our secret."
Peter 1 gave her a giggle and a thumbs up. MJ then turned to Gwen who added a wink and a finger to her lips.
After MJ and Gwen went back to decorating, One did his best to make the snowflakes, but he hated how tired he started to feel. He had literally taken a nap that was several hours long and now he was tired again. Sickness could be a jerk sometimes.
There were several times he had to jerk himself awake before someone noticed his dozing. Peter 2 almost caught him when he poked his head back in to see how things were going. Two had eyed him suspiciously, but just like MJ and Gwen, he had quietly left the youngest to his work. One didn't need any more sleep; he needed something to do.
As he tried to do one last snowflake, he felt his eye lids getting heavier and heavier until he unintentionally drifted off to sleep. The scissors and unfinished flake were gently pulled from his hands . . . Or did he leg them go? He just hoped MJ hid them before Two saw.
As he slept, he kept hearing muffled voices moving all around him. The blanket around him kept flying up to brush itself against his face until it was eventually able to lift him up into the air. He curled up and felt himself get firmly carried across the sky.
Peter 1 floated for a minute before a movement beside him jerked him awake.
"Shh, it's okay Bug," a voice soothed. "It's just me."
" . . . Three?"
"Hey Pete." The middle Peter smiled. "Welcome back."
"What . . . what happened?"
"You crashed again Bug. MJ said she turned around and you were out."
Peter 1 groaned then coughed. "I hate being sick. All I do is sleep."
"Hey, that's what your body needs right now. Nothing wrong with that."
Frustrated tears formed in the corners of One's eyes. "I need to do something. I feel useless if I can't!"
Three gently grabbed his younger brother's face and forced him to look up at him. "You are many things Peter Benjamin Parker, but useless is not one of them."
Peter 1 looked away.
"Hey now. Would you say that same thing to Peter 2 and I if we got sick?"
The youngest shook his head. "No . . . but that's different!"
"Different how?"
"Because . . . Because . . ."
Peter 3 raised an eyebrow.
Peter 1 sighed. "Because it's me."
The middle Peter motioned for his brother to continue.
"It's always me. . .I'm the one who gets nightmares, I'm the one who gets injured, and of course I'm the one who gets sick. . . I'm just a magnet for trouble."
"A regular walking talking whumpee huh?"
"Yeah."
"Hey." Three squeezed One's hand. "You've been through a lot recently. Everything about you is adjusting. You're on your own for the first time, you've got to balance school and a job on top of an apartment, and you're reworking on Spiderman. That's a lot to heap on yourself."
Peter 1 kept quiet as he listened to Three.
"You're not going to have it all together Pete. There's always going to be an obstacle to over come. And trust me when I say it's not always you. I was sick just last week from a cold I caught from Gwen and it messed me up big time."
The smallest of grins appeared on One's face. "Thank you."
"There it is." Three kissed his forehead. "It's okay to feel useless and frustrated, but just don't forget how truly wonderful you are."
"Even when I'm sick?"
"I don't care if you start spewing your guts all over me." Three gently tapped One's nose. "You'll still be the most wonderful little brother and I will still love you . . . right after I'm done scrubbing myself off with bleach."
One chuckled. "Ehew."
"Ihim juhust glad it's this cold stuhuff ahand not the puky stuhuff. Ihi will gladly take snot over vohomit ahany day."
One playfully pushed at his older brother.
"Wahatch ihit. Santa can still take ahaway your presehents."
One stuck his tongue at Three. "Nuh-uhuh!"
Peter 3 leaned closer. "Yeah-huh!"
"Hohow doho yohou knohow? Yohou're nohot Sahanta."
"I work vehery closely wihith the big man. So watch it."
One's giggles started to get more sleep drunk sounding the longer he was awake.
"And that," Peter 3 replied. "Is the sign it's time for bed."
" . . . Could . . . Could you stay?"
"Of course bud." Three climbed in next to Peter 1. "I was planning too when you woke up."
One's eyes widened as he realized he was in the guest room again and not the couch. "Wait . . . I thought I was . . ."
Three kissed his brother's cheek before settling in. "Don't think too hard about it. Night Pete."
"B-but . . ."
Three's eyes were already closed.
One let it go with a sigh, then curled into his brother's hold before drifting off to sleep. "Love you Three. Thank you."
Peter Three cracked an eye open and smiled at his brother. "Love you too Pete."
He wrapped the youngest's in a hug before joining his brother in the land of sleep.
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Good Ending/Reunion AU
(daddy issuesn't AU)
Chapter 7
Wholesome father son bonding time (trust me bro)
AU by: @future--ghost
Name and Help by: @iheardasimplesong
(you know the deal)
"F-Father! I can walk on my own, you don't need to drag me!" Dark Choco faltered. "I know you can but I can explain, the situation will be easier to explain if it looks like I made you come here!" Dark Cacao explained "I also thought it'd be fun to drag you around..." He muttered. "That's understandable, but I'd appreciate a warning beforehand." His father argued. "I could but I find it fun to suprise you." Dark Cacao insisted. "Why?!" He raised his voice. "Well, I guess it's because you falter, and you get a tad bit flustered (not in the weird way), and from what i can tell and remember you let your guard down a little." Dark Cacao confirmed. "I- What? Who cares??? You look like a king dragging along some random cookie for no reason." Dark Choco blinked several times. "Doesn't matter, what does matter though is getting you to the Citadel before you change your mind so..." Dark Cacao picked up his pace so they'd reach the Citadel quicker. "I am already regretting agreeing to this!" Dark Choco said loudly.
[small time skip]
So here he was, in the Citadel which he ever so dreaded stepping foot in ever since the incident. The place where he grew up, Dark Choco knew this place like the back of his hand, secret entrances, places to hide, etc. He could easily leave right now, his father had left the room to go get something. Thank the witches his father actually listened to him for once and chose to go through an entrance where they wouldn't be seen. That's why he was left in a room. A room with a table and two chairs next to a window, a bookcase, shelves on the walls, and etc.
Why was he even staying? He could leave any second and he wouldn't be seen. But then there is his father, who would probably be very disappointed if he did. Also it's best to face your discomfort and figure out more about a potential threat if possible. The sound of footsteps approaching then interrupted Dark Choco's thoughts. He needed to hide, even if it was most likely his father it's best to stay hidden on case of a watcher. He observed his surroundings, the best spot to hide would be the ceiling beams. They were quite sturdily built and he wasn't wearing all that much armor so he there was no risk of it breaking. Quickly, Dark Choco jumped to the ceiling beam and hid within the shadows. The door opened and shut. It was of course his father, he expected this but it's best to prepare. "Dark Chocolate. Come out from your hiding place. I'd like to have a chat." His father asserted. He came down from the ceiling beams softly and stared his father in the eyes. "How did you even...-" Dark Cacao, perplexed by his son's ability to get to such an elevated place so quickly. "Doesn't matter, take a seat. I have a few questions for you, boy." Dark Cacao's eyed narrowed. His father took a seat in one of the chairs from that table, then motioned him to sit as well. He took a seat on the chair across his father. He felt like something was off, his father seemed much more serious than before when he was just teasing him. "Get on with your questions." He said, clearly annoyed by his father. "Hmph, patience, boy." Dark Cacao displeased. "Why did you join the side of Dark Enchantress Cookie?" "... because she knew me. She said I'd be useful and I trusted her." Dark Choco muttered. "Do you know then? Who she was before Dark Enchantress Cookie." Dark Cacao looked at his son, hoping for him to say no. "I am aware that Dark Enchantress was White Lily Cookie." He looked down and quietly took a deep breath. Silence filled the room, Dark Cacao looked to side with a pained expression on his face. Almost like he was concerned about the next question he was going to ask. The room was still. There was no noise besides the faint noise of the howling wind coming from outside the covered window. It was almost peaceful, until a heavy question broke the silence. "Do you regret what you did? Do you regret attempted to kill me and joining my sworn enemy? Do you regret attempting to destroy our kingdom?" Dark Cacao stared into his soul with those eyes he does when extremely serious about something. The narrowed pupils and the shadow looming over his face. It always made Dark Choco uncomfortable. "... I-" Thoughts swirled around his head. He regretted what he had done! Of course he did! But he had spent so long telling himself he didn't he just had this lingering part of him that he didn't regret what he had done. "I wouldn't like to admit it." His expression because colder. "You imply that you do have regrets about it though, I'll wait until you can give me a straight answer. Until then, next question." His father was reaching to grab something. Dark Choco felt like something was wrong, really wrong. The atmosphere ever since he came in was off and he noticed his father brought something in, he just couldn't figure it out. Something bad was about to happen and he knew it. His father pulled up a sword, not his sword or any sword he owned. This wasn't just any sword. Just then, Dark Choco got up. "I won't attack you. I want to know the deal with this sword. The gem in the middle is strange, at times it will have a faint glow. Some say they hear whispering coming from it. So tell me boy, explain this strange weapon."
#cookie run#cookie run au#cookie run kingdom#cookie run kingdom au#crk#crk au#dark cacao#dark cacao au#dark cacao cookie#dark cacao cookie au#dark choco#dark choco au#dark choco cookie au#dark cacao kingdom#dark choco cookie#reunion au#daddy issuesn't au#good ending au
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this was supposed to be a silly little short thing. it then went on a little longer. idk what it is about friday nights yall, but lemme tell you - it is a different type of exhausted lamao.
BUT who says you cant still chill with friends.
also, yes, i wanted all the foods i wrote in this thing lamao
welcome back to teacher au haha.
Plans
“Any plans for the evening?” Étienne asks as Edward parks the car in front of his apartment. The weekend has finally crawled over and finally, they will both have two days of rest, before chaos descends on them once more on Monday.
“Not really. I need to figure out supper and then most likely pass out in front of the television. You?”
Étienne chuckles at Edward’s comment. To think that once, not too long ago, Friday nights had been synonymous with going out and having fun. Now, he’s too tired from his hectic week to even think about going out. “Much of the same, really. I wasn’t even going to bother with figuring out supper and was going to order pizza.” He pauses as he fiddles with the strap of one of his many bags. He’s ever so grateful that Edward has been giving him lifts for the past few months. He doesn’t have to jostle people around with his multitude of bags and the commute is much shorter. “Wanna join me?” He asks, suddenly. He likes spending time with Edward and even though he’s perfectly well aware that Edward is seeing someone, there’s nothing wrong with hanging out with a friend.
“I don’t want to impose, really.”
Étienne dismisses him with a well-placed eye roll, “Please, after all the lifts you’ve given me, this is the least I can do. Come on, my treat.”
“Are you sure? I’m not the best of company on a Friday night.”
“I don’t mind, really. We can commiserate about our shitty week and problematic students. I have good craft beer I can take out. I am also an exhausted teacher, so no worries. However, if you really don’t want to stay for whatever reason, it’s fine. I won’t pressure you and I understand wanting to crash alone in a dark corner after a full week of teaching.”
Edward thinks about it for a moment. The good thing about having teacher friends is that they also understand just how drained one can be from teaching. Still, the idea of going home and having to do anything and do it alone sounds less appealing. He figures he doesn’t have to stay late and finally agrees, as he parks the car.
“Also, fair warning, the apartment is a little messy. I do my cleaning on Saturdays.” Étienne tells him as they walk to his front door.
“It can’t be any worse than mine.”
Edward realises that this will be the first time that he’s going over at Étienne’s, and he does genuinely wonder what his friend’s place looks like. He’s curious, sure, but it also means that they’ve levelled up on their friendship scale. Teaching can sometimes be a lonely job, if only because he’s rarely available and often times too tired to do much of anything. Bonding with other exhausted teachers and turning them into friends has been fortuitous in such cases. Still, he’s happy that he and Étienne have become friends and despite his fatigue, he’s happy for the change of pace for the evening.
As it turns out, Étienne’s apartment is small but cozy. After shucking his shoes and getting rid of his jacket, Edward gets the grand tour of the place. The living room has a coffee table loaded with books and a few sketchbooks strewn left and right, precariously perched one on top of the other. There’s a basket full of clean laundry that needs to get attended and an ironing board just a way away. A potted plant waits by the windowsill, a watering can next to it and in the far corner, there’s a television flanked by two bookcases filled with books, CDs and DVDs alike.
The living room and kitchen are one big open space and so one leads to the other, separated only by furniture. The kitchen table seems to have a second life as a worktable of sorts and there’s a laptop surrounded by school projects on one end, while the other remains clear of debris of any type.
The chaos is familiar, if only because his own apartment looks similar and so he continues following Étienne through the grand tour, until they return to the kitchen-living room and his friend presents him with a menu.
“Let me know if there’s anything that strikes your fancy.”
Edward sighs and hands the menu back, “Just get whatever you were going to get. I literally don’t care. I’ve made 1076 decisions today. As long as it’s edible, I really, really don’t care.”
“Yeah, but what if I get something you don’t like?” Étienne retorts and Edward groans.
“Listen. It can be pineapple pizza and it’ll be fine, honest.”
Étienne laughs and takes back the menu, “Well, see, had you done that you would have near killed me. I’m deadly allergic to pineapple.”
Edward looks at him as though clearly not believing him and Étienne takes out his Epi-pen from the kitchen drawer. “Now, tell me, is there anything you don’t like or are allergic to?” Étienne asks again.
“I have no food allergies that I know of. What were you thinking of ordering? I’ll let you know if there’s anything about it that I don’t like. How’s that?” It’s a compromise and Étienne doesn’t need to know that he’ll agree with whatever his friend will tell him, unless it’s really off the wall.
“Fine; I was going to get half olive and half bacon. I was also thinking of getting a few sides, if only so I can have leftovers. This place makes really good mozzarella sticks and onion rings, are those okay?”
Edward nods and Étienne calls up the pizzeria to place the order.
--
They eat out of paper plates, since Étienne had forgotten to start his dishwasher that morning. The food, as it turns out, is quite good even if Edward isn’t sure if it’s made better by the company and his hunger. He’d tried to pay for it, but Étienne had been faster and had insisted, saying that it was the least he could do, because Edward drove him to and from work nearly every day. Edward had countered, saying that Étienne made him coffee every morning and gave him gas money often, but his friend had been stubborn about it regardless.
“Y’know, these onion rings are pretty good.” Edward says as he picks one up and eats it whole. “There’s a place back home that makes really good ones. Kind of reminds me of them,” There’s a small, fond if nostalgic smile that comes to Edward’s face.
“D’you go back home often?” Étienne asks, breaking him from his thoughts.
“Yeah, as much as I can. I try to go at least twice, sometimes three times, but tickets are expensive and sometimes, you want to travel elsewhere…” He sighs and toys with another onion ring, “I used to go every Christmas, but now that I’m with someone we alternate. One year we go to Edmonton and the other we stay here.”
“That’s fair; y’know, this is gonna sound lame as all else, but I’ve always wanted to travel to all the provinces and territories. What’s Edmonton like”’ Étienne’s smile is a little embarrassed but Edward is quick to reassure him that no, it’s not lame.
“It’s a city like any other city; it has its fair share of stupidity, but – it has its own vibe as well. There’s a lot to do, if you give it a chance. We have so many festivals – and not just in the summer! There are unique shops and some really good ice cream places. The River Valley deserves its own special mention and you can bike all around – well, maybe not all around all around, but there’s a good bike path system as well.” Edward gets more and more animated as he talks about his home, a sparkle coming to his eyes as he mentions the architecture, the must see places and his own favourites.
It sounds like a place Étienne would like to visit, if only because Edward makes it sound so lovely and alive, even if it has its own particularities and drawbacks. Then again, which place doesn’t?
“Edmonton may have just been considerably bumped up on my list of places to visit now,” Étienne says as he skewers another onion ring with his fork.
Edward looks ever so pleased, “Yeah?” He asks and Étienne nods.
They fall silent for a moment after that, content to eat and drink in companionable silence.
“D’you miss it? – Edmonton?” Étienne asks and then clarifies.
Edward ponders it for a moment, toying with his fork. “On bad days, I miss it more than usual. Edmonton is my home – it’s where I grew up. It has its problems, but it’s not all bad and has a lot of potential. I like going back and I like seeing how it improves. My friends and family are there. Every time I go back, it’s like finding a favourite sweater you thought you’d lost. Does that make sense?”
Étienne nods, “Would you go back? Move back permanently?”
Again, Edward pauses and thinks about it, “Ideally, if it was super easy to do; yes. But for as much as we enjoy complaining about the education system here, believe it or not the one back in Alberta is its own special hell and in some cases, even more fucked up. So – there’s that. I also don’t want to start over with the job. I may have come here on a whim following a lover, and even if that relationship didn’t last, I got used to living here. Came to like it as well. Plus, now I’m still seeing someone, so it complicates things. Maybe one day; until then, I’ll visit as much as I can.”
When they finish eating, Edward helps Étienne clear the table, before they continue their conversation in the living room. It’s not the first time he’s noticed it, but it’s always so easy talking with Étienne. He always seems so very interested in what he’s saying. They end up talking some more about Edmonton and Étienne presses him for photos of the places he mentions. Edward thinks his friend is humouring him, but when Étienne himself takes out his own phone to look up a place he had mentioned, Edward takes out his phone to show his friend.
It’s an easy evening and the hours melt into one another, until it’s later than anticipated and Edward is fighting to stay awake.
“I should let you go,” Étienne jokes after Edward stifles a yawn once more. “I’m boring you to sleep.”
“You’re not boring, honest, but it’s been a week.” Edward gives an apologetic smile and stretches, before getting up. “However, it is late and I don’t want to keep you up. You look ready to pass out yourself.”
Étienne looks mock offended for a moment, before he too yawns and then they both dissolve into bouts of laughter. They shuffle back to the door and Étienne hands Edward his jacket while he puts his shoes back on.
“Thanks for stopping by; this was really nice.”
Edward agrees with a soft smile, “Next time, you should come over time mine.”
“Sounds like a plan!”
FIN
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33
Has anyone ever made fun of your taste in music? Maybe?
What’s your favorite season of the year? Autumn.
Do you have pop-tarts in your house right now? Nope.
Is anyone’s birthday coming up? Kinda. My daughter is beginning of April.
Does someone owe you over twenty dollars? No.
Do you remember who you liked in grade eight? No I don't.
When was the last time you burned any part of your body? Not badly but today I burnt my finger on a frying pan.
Have you ever overflown a bathtub? No.
Are you dressing up for Halloween this year? I might.
Have you ever called somebody dollface? No.
If I gave you ten dollars, what would you spend it on? A cold brew.
Have you ever thrown food at a stranger in a movie theater? Nope.
What are you most excited about right now? Taking my Grandma out for dinner on Saturday.
Does / did either of your parents serve in the military? No. My mom's brother and father did.
Are you somewhat of a perfectionist? Not really.
Do you like sour candy? Yes.
Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? I just asked my boyfriend and we discussed it. Iceland!
Do you have Verizon? No.
What do you do to stay awake when you’re tired? Coffee.
Are all nighters something you have grown used to? Absolutely not. Those days are behind me lol!
Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? I don't drive.
Do you wear your shoes around the house? Nope.
Is there ever a time that you enjoy cold showers? Nooo.
What clothes are you most comfortable in? Baggy sweater/tshirt and sweatpants. I'm a SAHM so I live in that attire.
Is there anybody you’re not ashamed to tell anything to? My boyfriend and one of my best friends.
What has changed most about you in the past year? Two really bad things have happened to me in the last year. I think what changed is that I've become a stronger person than I ever dreamed possible. I'm also feeling very confident in my abilities as a mom.
Are you good at painting nails? Nope.
Smoothies or slushies? Smoothies.
Are you good at filling silence in awkward situations? No.
Ignoring nutrition, could you live off veggies for the rest of your life? No. I like carbs.
Elaborate on a way you have volunteered? I've not done much of that.
Do you use a full length mirror daily? No. Special occasions only. We have one tucked away behind my daughter's bookcase.
Can you walk in heels, or do you feel awkward in them? I don't feel awkward.
Any TV shows you sit down weekly to watch? Nooo not anymore.
Does anybody know about your sex life other than your partners? Not really? I'm sure I've discussed it with girlfriends.
Even if you don’t like politics, do you still have opinions on the issues? Yes!
Are you one to sneak food into movie theaters? I have done it but don't anymore.
Will you tell someone if there’s something in their teeth? Yes.
Do you ever actually make your bed? I do not.
Do you make an effort to eat healthy? I've been making more of an effort lately. We're 1.5 months into 2024 and I'm kinda keeping up with my resolutions.
How are things between the person you like / love / are with? Wonderful! We're doing really well lately.
Where did you sleep last night? In my bed.
The last time you kissed someone, what color of shirt were they wearing? Black.
What kind of booze did you last take shots of? Whiskey.
What’s something you want to purchase next time you’re at the mall? Books for my daughter, always.
Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? Yes.
If you could see any musician live, front row, who would you choose? Paul McCartney.
If you had to choose between a million dollars or to be able to change a regret? Money.
Are you taller than your mom? Yes.
Have you ever been around someone who was high? I was a stoner for several years. Definitely yes.
Do you prefer to take your showers at night or in the morning? Afternoon.
Think back to June. Were you in a relationship? Yup.
What’s so special about what you’re wearing? Nothing at all.
Do you have any ‘naughty’ photos on your phone? Yes.
Could you handle living with a male roommate? My boyfriend lol.
What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? Going for a walk with my daughter.
Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? He's beside me changing the water in one of our fishtanks.
Do you think anyone has feelings for you? I know they do.
What do you miss the most about your past? I've lost a lot of loved ones. I miss them being alive.
When is the next time you will kiss someone? Later tonight.
Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yes.
Plan on getting drunk or high tonight? No.
In the past week, have you cried hysterically? Yes.
Do you think you’ll actually live a happy life with somebody? For sure.
Are you on birth control? No.
Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? No.
Last time you were really happy? One month ago.
Do you tend to fall for players? Nope.
Why aren’t you in ‘love’ with your last ex? Ancient history.
Have you ever asked a boy for advice? All the time.
Are you wrapped in a blanket? Nope.
Did you get a full 8 hours of sleep last night? I think so.
Have you spoken to your mother today? Father? Both of them have passed away. I lost my mom just a month ago. It still truly doesn't feel real. I talked to her every single day.
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writing asks 19 and 23
Hi Fable! Thanks for the asks!
19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?
Oh gosh! I will actually be embarrassing with this but...I can't remember not writing. It's always called to me, I think. So I remember being very young writing spy stories about characters called Veronica and Klyde. Considering it's been over two decades since I touched those characters or those stories, I still remember them very vividly LOL.
My journey writing fanfic also started very young. I was writing very...um...questionable things when I was 13. And I also remember being very paranoid that, like, I would be caught by websites so I made up very elaborate backstories for my Writer Self. And instead of having a very generic username like silverdragon3 I had an actual people name that was not my name hoping that would throw them off my trail!
Clearly I was meant to be a writer, because my imagination was WILD.
All through my teen years I wrote Harry Potter fanfiction, but I was also on a Twilight RPG site essentially writing collaborative stories involving original characters. I was always, always writing!
I stopped writing in late 2012 for a number of reasons. Burnout being one, but also feeling disheartened from some interactions. I came back to it in 2015 writing for the Marvel Universe (Steve/Tony for life) and I eventually made my way back to Snarry in 2019.
Coming back to writing was such a blessing and I had such a good mindset about it. How I was writing for me and no one else. I was having fun with it. Tearing away all expectations I had of myself and my work. And it was so liberating!
I'm afraid my natural tendencies towards perfectionism and overthinking have crept back in and have hindered me a lot. My work is probably better for it, but I'm not sure all of the stress is worth it so....I need to learn how to balance better and have a healthier relationship to writing.
There are so many stories I still want to tell and so much I want to do still! And I want to create things that are quality, and things other people will enjoy...but taking care of myself first and foremost while I'm at it! I think I'll always struggle with that, but it's worth trying to do better!
23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.
My home setup is very nice! I have a small wooden desk (with green accents!) and a wooden chair with a green cushion. There's a nice black footrest under the desk (my feet are so happy!) I have a laptop stand that my macbook sits on, a circular pink mousepad, a vertical ergonomic mouse, and a nice ergonomic keyboard (my hands are also happy.) I have a small Taurus trinket tray that my 3 astrology dice sit in (planet, signs, houses) and two candles sit beside it: a Harry and a Snape candle from an etsy shop! There is also a wooden desktop bookcase filled with books that are pretty and/or reference books (floriography, philosophy, mythology, astrology, tarot, poetry, etc.) Two figurines are in front of the bookcase of women holding bouquets (one holds pink, the other yellow.)
The woods and the greens are all different but I think it all flows together anyway!
On the wall above my desk is a circular stone image of the Hogwarts crest. Behind where I sit are several other bookshelves filled to the brim with books. My desk sits near the living room and the kitchen and the bar dividing the room has stacks and stacks of books on it! (Basically: books, books, everywhere!)
We have Philips Hue lights all over our apartment, so I can set the lighting to whatever suits me: however dim or bright I want! Warm lighting, cool lighting. Pink lights, blue lights! Whatever mood I like for the work I need to do.
When I sit down to write, I usually have a cup of coffee and light one of my candles. My Harry candle is very sweet and the Snape candle is more musky. I generally work in silence (because I'm easily distracted) but sometimes I'll pull an ambient noise video up on my ipad and have it sitting by me while I work (so I can enjoy the visuals and the noise!)
When I'm in a good groove I'm a speed-demon when I type, so lotsa click-clacking! In the not so groovy times I gulp down my coffee and fidget in my chair (because I can't sit still to save my life.)
Oh, and because my partner likes the COLD I'm often also buried beneath a lot of blankets.
I was hoping to paint a more romantic image but it's really just my tiny desk in my apartment that is crammed with books and me flopping all over the place and begging the deities for some ability to focus, lol!
Weird Questions for Writers
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Mine
Part Two of Better Alone requested by @xoxoloverb
Matt Murdock x female!reader:
words: 1.8k+
theme: slight angst, smut
warnings:18+, language, sexual situations, unprotected sex,
It has been weeks since you’d last seen Matt. No longer are you being woken up by the sounds of him coming into your apartment in the middle of the night. After the last time, it was like he disappeared from your life completely. A part of you hated the fact that you let it slip how much Matt had grown to mean to you. But at the same time, you knew that you couldn't keep it in any longer.
But staying away from Matt also sadly meant that you were staying away from Foggy and Karen. It was like you'd slipped away from all their lives in a matter of days. You and Foggy have been friends since you were kids and it was becoming harder to leave him out of the loop.
So you tried to force yourself to move on. But this was the second date this week that ended with you feeling you'd wasted two hours of your life. You had never been happier than you were now to see your apartment building as you walked side by side with your date.
"I had a really good time tonight," He spoke, looking down towards you with a smile. It wasn't his fault that you weren't into it. A small part of you knew deep down that getting Matt out of your system was going to be hard.
"Me too," You forced a smile, the lie falling easy from your lips. "Thank you,"
You felt him moving towards you, his face slowly coming closer, and a part of you felt panic. But before you could react, his mouth was pressed to yours. You felt frozen for a second before stepping back and smiling up towards him.
"Have a good night," You rushed out in a panic and ran into your apartment building. The moment you were inside you felt pressure leave you. A heaviness came to you knowing that you were going to your dark and empty apartment - alone. "Finishing off that bottle of whiskey."
You unlocked your door and walked inside, but the moment you walked in, something felt different. The air felt thick and tense as you closed the door behind you. But as your eyes looked around - nothing seemed out of place. You set your things down at the small table beside your front door, along with kicking off your shoes.
You stood there for a moment before reaching over and flicking on the light. When the room lit up into light it was when you saw him. A small scream left your lips as you jumped back in shock. He sat in the chair at the far side of your living room beside your bookcase. He was dressed in all black, his normal uniform, minus the mask.
"Matthew! Fuck," You screamed, your hand raising towards your chest over your racing heart. "How in the hell did you get in here?"
"Balcony. Thought I told you to lock that." His voice filled the room and seemed to have you falter back for a moment. But there was a bit of anger in his voice. Matt's lips were pressed into a fine line.
"What are you doing here?" You asked, walking further into your apartment.
Being in your apartment brought Matt's senses back on you. But everything was faint. The moment you walked closer to him it was like a wave rushing over him.
Ever since a few weeks ago he couldn't fully keep himself away. No matter what, his mind always wandered back to you. So during his patrols, he would find himself at the building across the street, sitting, waiting, and listening. Nothing had pissed him off more than seeing you go off into the night with other men. But seeing the man tonight touch you and kiss you sent him over the edge.
Your eyes fell over him and felt the tension from before only growing thicker the closer you stood before him. Matt groaned slightly as he could smell the other man on you, it was faint, but still there.
"Have fun tonight?" Matt's eyes moved towards where he thought your face to be, their hardened gaze not going unmissed by you. You scoffed and shook your head.
"Watching me?"
Matt slowly stood up and walked towards you, soon towering over you. You felt your throat tighten slightly as you looked at him.
"You didn't answer my question," Matt's voice dropped down slightly. "Did you have fun?"
"What does it matter? You don't care, you wanna be alone, remember?"
Matt's hand reached up and fisted through your hair and pulling it back. You gasped as you felt his body press against yours, your hand moving along his stomach and gripping at his shirt. He bent his head down till his lips were hovered over yours - teasing your in what you wanted most. Your breath came out harsh and could feel heat travel through your body. It was a need.
"You told me that you didn't want me." You spoke angrily, but Matt could hear your heart. He could smell the need on your skin. "You told me that you were better off alone."
"Oh, sweetheart." Matt's lips turned up slightly in a smirk.
The moment his lips were pressed against yours in a heated kiss you felt frozen for a moment. But it didn't take long for your reaction, kissing with the same passion as he was giving. Your teeth knocked against his as the two of you fought for dominance in the kiss. Matt nipped lightly at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp, and let his tongue slip between your lips with ease.
Your hands moved beneath his shirt and scrapped your nails down along his skin causing Matt to hiss against your lips. Slowly he led you back towards your bedroom, the two of you knocking into things and sending things to the floor. But it was the last thing on your mind as you felt Matt's lips against your neck.
His hands gripped your waist tightly and pushed you down onto the bed, your breath leaving your lungs as you stared up towards him in amazement. Matt's chest rose and fell with every heavy and labored breath he took. He removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor before hovering over your body. Matt's hands moved down along your thighs before ripping away the underwear you were wearing beneath your dress.
Both of your hands frantically moved against each other. Your pushed Matt onto his back and straddled along his waist, your hands traveling over his chest. Matt closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of your hands against his skin. It was like for that moment the two of you were one to him. But his eyes snapped open the moment he felt your hands at his waist. The unmistakable sound of his pants being unbuckled and zipper drew down.
He could feel his cock throb and knowing your touch was so close only made him nearly lose his mind. His cock pulsed with each second. You bent your head down and kissed right below his belly button, making a curse leave his lips, his fists tightening beside him. The feeling of your tongue on his skin nearly had him losing his mind.
He spoke your name in a rushed and harsh moan. Your lips turned up in a smirk before you continued to remove his pants. They fell to the floor in a flop leaving Matt in only his tight black boxer briefs. You moaned when you saw the bulge pressing at the front of his briefs.
Quickly you removed the rest of your clothes and the moment you came back to the bed, Matt grabbed at you and moved you beneath him. His lips connected with yours in another fiery kiss. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders with your hands moving along your neck and back. Your fingers gripped through his hair and pulled on it slightly, causing him to growl against your lips.
"You are mine," He spoke darkly against your lips with his hands moving between your legs. You gasped as his long fingers moved against your slit. Your hips pressed up against his movement, drawing out small whimpers and cries from you. Matt listened carefully to every sigh, breath, and cry that you made.
"M-Matt...please...I need you, no teasing." You panted, your hand moving down to push down the band of his underwear.
It seemed for a moment the passion simmered down for a moment. Matt slowed down and pressed his forehead against yours and sighed as he felt you wrapped around him, feeling every inch of you as he thrust in slowly.
"Fuck," Matt moaned drawing out the word, his head falling to your shoulder as you pulsed around him. His hand moved down and grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading your wider for him, allowing him to sink deeper.
You were so wet around him he was able to move in and out of you faster with each thrust. Your moans grew louder with each thrust as Matt moved against you, your hips tilting up to meet every thrust.
"Oh...Matt...so good." You moaned in his ear. That drove him even more drawn out every moan and cry as he pulled back and fucked into your deeper.
Matt's body was pressed tightly against yours as he heard the higher pitch in your voice. With how tight you grew around him, Matt knew that you were close.
"Come on, baby...give it to me." Matt moaned, his voice deep. "...you feel so good...so fucking tight..."
Your voice grew in volume before you came hard around him, your arms tightening around his body and pulling him closer. Matt pressed his forehead against yours with his movements becoming more erratic as he drew closer to his climax. He chanted your name softly like a prayer before pressing his hips tightly against you.
The two of you stayed entangled together with your harshed breaths filling the room along with the scent of sweat and sex.
"T-That..." You swallowed loudly, "W-Where..."
"I was an idiot," Matt spoke quickly "It took knowing others were trying to be yours to know that I couldn't stand that."
Matt caught the quick intake of breath.
"...Matt..."
He sighed heavily feeling a heaviness settle in his chest.
"I have such hard and deep feelings for you, it's like you're in my skin and I can't get you out." You paused as your fingers moved through his hair. "But I don't want you out."
The corner of his lips turned up before he pressed his lips back against yours, the kiss soft and tender.
"I really want to try with you," Matt spoke, "If I didn't miss my chance."
"You didn't," You whispered
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock#matt murdock oneshot#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock fanfiction#matt murdock smut#daredevil x reader#daredevil x y/n#daredevil x you#daredevil imagine#daredevil x female reader#daredevil oneshot#daredevil fanfiction#daredevil fanfic#daredevil
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House Warming - Bucky Barnes
Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count: 2.6 k
Warnings: fluff with a lil angst
A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta for the dividers! xoxox
Masterlist
It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.
“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”
“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.
The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.
From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.
“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.
“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.
“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?
“They add character.”
“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”
“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”
The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.
He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.
And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.
One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.
It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.
Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.
“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.
“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”
After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.
“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.
“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.
“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”
He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”
“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”
“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”
“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.
Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.
When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.
Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”
The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”
You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”
“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”
He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”
When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit indeed.”
He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”
You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”
He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.
“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”
You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”
Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.
That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.
The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.
He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.
“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.
Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.
“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”
You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.
You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.
The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”
Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.
Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”
You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”
“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”
“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.
“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.
“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”
He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.
You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.
“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff
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𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
pairing: leo valdez x gn reader
summary: five ways he says i love you through his actions
warnings: implied nudity and s*x, discusses food and eating and nothing else, i think. oh, and maybe some typos
category: headcanons
love letters/notes
leo is a busy boy
he's always picking up new projects so he can spend all day in his workshop or the forges with his siblings
when you guys live together, he leaves small notes on the refrigerator for you
they're always short, saying simple things like "i love you" and "i miss you already"
for the love letters, he'll leave them in random places for you to find
if you're a big reader, i can see him hiding it between the pages of your book
one day, you pick up your book to read, and the note falls on your lap
it's a love letter written on a piece of blueprint paper; there’s a little bit of oil smudged on the side of it
he got distracted while he was working on something because you were the only thing he could think about
his love letters never fail to make your heart flutter
sometimes they make you cry
he's quite sentimental
leo always tells you he does better writing down his feelings than he is saying it out loud because he can organize his thoughts better
you know that leo has a hard time with that because of how he grew up
when you guys have an argument, which isn't very often, he writes his feelings down on paper
he's always quick to apologize if he did something wrong, and the notes help him form the apology that you deserve, and you're quick to forgive him
once, you were super angry after an argument, so you locked yourself in your shared bedroom
you needed to calm yourself down
the both of you much too angry and stubborn to make a compromise
as your recollecting yourself, 40 minutes in, a folded piece of paper slips from under the door
the letter has teardrop stains, and the ink is slightly smudged
on the paper, it's all his thoughts written out in the best way he can explain them
after reading what he wrote, you quickly deemed that whatever you were fighting about was silly, and you guys made up
you love his spontaneous notes so much that you do them back
you guys have a game of who can find the most creative hiding spot for your notes
one time you found one tapped to the inside of the toilet cover
you found it hilarious
you throw folded post-its with messages in his tool belt
he finds them during the day while he's working on something
after you joined in on the fun, he scatters notes in random places, and every few days, you find a new message hidden somewhere randomly
they're just so sweet; there’s never a time where they don't make you smile
gifts
this is a given
it's not a leo headcanon if gift-giving isn't included
he would make you things like roses from scrap metal to literal furniture
if you have a lot of jewelry, he will make you a cute jewelry box
if you're a big book reader, he'll make you bookcases to support your book collection
he's always giving you little trinkets that he made with leftover materials from projects
he loves making things for you and gets upset when you decide to buy something from ikea instead of asking him
"babe, why would you buy that? I could have just made it for you!"
when he's on his way from returning on his quest, sometimes he'll find something that reminds him of you in a store, and he'll buy it
when he has the money for it, he'd buy you a star :(
says that he spent even more money to buy an extra bright star
because "you're the sun in my universe"
brb gonna cry
also, he'd gift you a bond bracelet
you know, those bracelets where every time you tap on it, it makes the other person's bracelet vibrate
the both of you get anxious when one of you goes on quests, so the bracelets bring the other person who's at home comfort
because when you tap back, at least he knows you're alive and vice versa
one of the best gifts you've ever received from him was your engagement ring
he made it himself
he took so much care and effort into making it
imagine leo forging your wedding ring himself??? i'm in spain with no s
he was so nervous that you wouldn't like the style, so he had piper casually bring it up to you
piper was so nonchalant about it that you didn't even think twice about the question
the ring has the prettiest gemstone or diamond (whatever you prefer)
you cried so hard when he told you he made it himself that you couldn't even say yes to his proposal clearly
he makes both of your wedding bands too
he carves a saying that's dear to the both of you on the inside
this is nothing to do with anything but imagine when you guys have kids, he makes animals out of pipe cleaners for them i'm gonna cry, brb pt 2
overall, whether he makes the present himself or not, he puts a lot of effort and care into it
every gift has a meaning and a place dear to your heart
cooking for you
leo is canoningly a good cook
he loves cooking for you
and you love eating what he makes
he's usually busy on the weekdays, so he cooks on the weekends
you guys always joke that he'd be the cutest househusband
you got him an apron for Christmas as a joke gift one year, and he wears it all the time
there's something so charming about him wearing an apron with a funny saying like "Mr. Good Lookin is Cookin" or with like a ripped out shirtless guy in front of it
you giggle every time you see him wearing it
oh, no matter how many times you've seen it, it's still so bizarre when he takes out hot trays from the oven with his BARE hands
everything he makes tastes amazing
he makes all kinds of food and is always trying something new
if you tell him what you’re craving, he’ll cook it for you
once he woke you up to ask if you wanted ribs… it was 3 am but like, of course, you wanted some
unless you're vegetarian or vegan, sorry, HAHA
often though, he does make Mexican food
it reminds him of when his mom was alive
he always has some story to share
every time he makes caldo de pollo (chicken soup), he always talks about how his mother would make it in the summer and that when he was little, he would always complain about eating hot soup in hot weather
you know he doesn't notice his constant telling of this story, but you don't mind
it's so bittersweet when he talks about his mom
through the cooking of his traditional food, you feel closer to him and his late mother
the memories he shares with you makes your eyes sting with tears
especially when leo says how much he wishes that esperanza could have met you
sorry, that was a little emo
also, leo usually wakes up earlier than you
he knows you're a sleepyhead, so he'll cook breakfast for you
so that when you're running around in the morning trying to get dressed and your things together
you never leave the house hungry because there's always a tupperware filled with breakfast, and if he has enough time, he'll fix you something to take for lunch too
if you come home late from work or school, he'll make dinner even if he's tired to surprise you
so many times you've come home from a shitty day at work or school, and the small table where you guys eat your meals is all set up with your favorite food
leo greets you by peeking his head into the hallway from the kitchen, tossed curls, cheerful brown eyes, and a bright grin
"I hope you're hungry," he says, despite knowing that you are hungry
and then you guys talk and laugh together over a delicious meal
compliments
leo's really observant
he notices when you’re in a bad mood, even if you try not to show it
he also notices when you change little things about your appearance
if you get a haircut or you get your nails done, he'll comment on it right away
especially outfits
if you buy something new, he'll complement it
imagine standing in front of the mirror, looking at yourself in your new outfit
leo comes behind you, his hands coming around your waist
he'll pepper kisses on your neck, a soft hum leaving his lips as he meets your eyes in the mirror
"is this new, mi amor?" he asks, hands running up your sides
once you affirm that it is a new dress or shirt, he'll smile and tell you how beautiful you look in it
maybe says he'd rather see it off of you wink wink
there's never a day where he doesn't compliment you
he thinks you're the prettiest person in the world
you've caught him staring at you lovingly plenty of times
he's just asking himself how did he manage to get someone as beautiful and amazing as you
you always squirm under his gaze and playfully ask what is he looking at
"you're so pretty, mi amor. I can't help it."
AHHH!!!!
alongside the endearment of mi amor, he'd always call you bonita and hermosa
you're so sweet to him, and he can't help but tell you how much you mean to him every chance he gets
surprises
leo is an acts of service kind of guy
i think he'll spontaneously do things to make you happy
if you've been busy studying for finals or just beat up from a day at work
he'll draw you a bath
or he'll cut up some fruit for you and leave it at your desk
he randomly buys you flowers
he never needs an occasion to buy your flowers
it'll be a regular tuesday, leo just happened to walk past a store with flowers displayed in the front, and he thought about how bright your smile would be if he showed up with a bouquet
I feel like he's pretty introverted, enjoys being at home with you
the both of you are pretty broke for a while, so a lot of dates were at home
leo made the most of it
you guys will have nice dinners at home
he'll set the table nicely, set the mood with candles
he'll redecorate the space so well you feel like you're at an actual restaurant
and of course, his food is amazing
breakfast in bed is another thing he'd do for you unsolicited
especially if you guys had a looong night wink wink
you're woken up by his still groggy voice, fluttering kisses on your cheeks
you open your eyes to see he's set a tray with your favorite breakfast on top of the bed
the two of you will eat breakfast together, which usually leads to you staying in bed for the rest of the day
just enjoying the warm cocoon your sheets create around the both of you
overall, he's super observant and caring, and he goes the extra mile to make sure you're happy because he knows you do the same
anyways, does anyone know where I can get a leo?
masterlists
taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @Slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky
#my writing#leo valdez#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez x you#heroes of olympus#heroes of olympus fanfic#heroes of olympus fanfiction#leo valdez imagine#leo valdez one shot#leo valdez fanfic#leo valdez fluff#leo valdez drabble#leo valdez headcanon
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17+32, Catherine and Henry (Northanger Abbey)?
War AU + Pregnancy fic
My anon, are you sure about this? Because this sounds hella angsty and if Catherine and Henry are anything, it's not angsty!
So I'm really sorry for completely ruining your desire for angst here.
*
Catherine goes to war in maternity leave.
Not literally, don't be ridiculous. She's an English teacher; what on earth would she be doing in a war zone? (She did once fancy herself a member of the Royal Navy but she had been 13 and mostly inspired by going on a high ropes adventure course on a school trip. The craze had not lasted.)
No, maternity leave is simultaneously boring and freeing. Since she started as a teacher, she's never had so much free time to just think. Henry's around some of the time, of course, but he has sermons to write and parishoners to see and tedious parish council meetings to chair. She flits in with cups of tea (waddles, really, at this point) and homemade cake that they at least pretend to like. (Sometimes she likes to give in to all the stereotypes of a vicar's wife. It makes her feel strangely cosy.) But when she isn't baking, she's at war.
At war on the internet. With the dog over her feet and a cup of tea at her side.
It started with a fun looking show on Netflix. Henry pointed it out to her one evening. "It's aimed at people who really loved Twilight when they were teengers and now lead depressingly generic lives in suburbia. People like you," he added pointedly.
Catherine narrowed her eyes and didn't let on that she'd already seen the trailer. "You're going to make fun of it."
"I mean... yes... obviously, but also, I really want to see whether the Dawn Angel gets together with the..." He squinted at the summary on his phone. "Immortal Night Demon or with her high school ex-boyfriend turned firefighter, Jordan. Golly, tough choice there, right? It's going to be compelling drama - breathtaking fight scenes, symbolic dark and light imagery, the epic highs and lows of high school football. You name it!"
They binged the whole thing in two days. Henry's next sermon, on the possibility of redemption even for demons and the devil himself, had been written in a fever dream by both of them at 2am after staying up far too late on Saturday arguing over the fate of the Night Demon and other related topics.
Old Mrs. Evans was heard to mutter sourly to her daughter Carys after the service, "That'll put the cat among the pigeons, that will alright. Too much Milton, not enough St Paul!"
"I always find Milton very inspiring!" Catherine replied bravely and loyally, as she helped them to a cup of tea in the church hall. She smiled at Carys, whom she'd taught Paradise Lost to at A Level a couple of years earlier. "St Paul too, of course," she added quickly, quailing under the mother's righteous glare. "Very inspiring."
But without marking or admin or driving to and from the high school in the large town half an hour away and without groups of teenagers to debate books with on a daily basis, Catherine found herself bored.
So she booted up her tumblr once again, abandoned since teaching had taken over her life and spending time with her wonderful, clever, funny, loving husband had seemed more interesting than scrolling aimlessly through social media, and discovered to her gleeful pleasure that fandom had not changed much and neither had she.
Or so she thought. Nowadays, she realises, everyone is moralising. The prevailing view seems to be that teenage girls in fandom aren't capable of distinguishing fact from fiction, that if they want a fictional heroine to rule hell with a sexy demon overlord at her side that must mean that that's what they want in real life. That the only moral thing to do here would be to marry the nice but boring guy who's been there for ever.
Catherine is an English teacher married to a vicar. If anyone knows anything about morality and fiction, it's her. This is all sounding very similar to the male critical outrage at women's novels in the 18th century. It seems nothing ever changes except that this time it's girls doing it to each other. Catherine writes several essays explaining all of this. She gets sent death threats and called an abuse apologist.
"It's so strange," she muses to Henry, as they eat homemade Thai curry in front of the aga.
"What is?" he replies. (She's told him everything, of course.) "The teenagers sending you anonymous death threats on tumblr? Because-"
"Nah, that's just standard for tumblr. I mean, it's so strange that anyone would want Griselda to be with Jordan. He's just so... normal and not in a good way. Just always going on about football and how great he was in high school. He really peaked then and he's a firefighter so that should make him brave but he never seems to actually do any fire fighting. He just talks about it as if we're meant to be impressed. We all know a Jordan and nobody wants to date him."
She'd know. Her first boyfriend had been a Jordan. They'd dated for five minutes. (Literally five minutes. Then she'd realised she'd been asked out and not to do a singing gig. Thorpy had been so subtle as to be unintelligible. Then she'd run for the hills, more disappointed in not having her vocal talents finally recognised than in being asked out by such a bore.)
"So a literal demon is a better bet?" Henry asks. "Just asking for clarification. Next year's Halloween costume depend on it."
"He's interesting and sexy and treats Griselda as an equal. What more do you want?"
"Well, speaking as a clergyman...." Henry begins with faux pomposity as he often does, his expression very fond.
She leaves him to do the washing up and lecture the dog. (She frequently hears him discussing doctrinal issues with the dog from the other room. It's adorable. She wonders if he'll be like this with the baby too. She can't wait.)
Back in her study, she boots the kitten off her chair and settles down for a long evening of defending a fictional relationship against antis, maybe reading a bit of a 52 chapter fanfiction where the Night Demon owns a tattoo parlour in New York City, and continuing to work a little on her new scheme of work for Year 9 when she eventually returns to work. It has the working title of "Sexy villains through history and why we should stan them".
She might need to edit that before she pitches it to her Head of Department.
There's a wonderful smell coming from downstairs: Henry is spontaneously baking apple cake. If she glances behind her computer monitor to the window, the graveyard looms dark and comforting in the autumn night, illuminated just by one of the outside lights on the old church. On a cushion by the bookcase, the kitten is lightly snoring and twitches in her sleep. She feels the baby shift slightly within her.
Shipping wars and the thrill of being so engaged in a fandom once more might fill a current space in her life, but goodness, she knows the difference between fact and fiction! Why would she want anything other than what she already has? Life is good.
#northanger abbey#jane austen#fanfiction#henry tilney#catherine morland#henry x catherine#i am strangely overcome by emotions at this sickly sweet and fluffy slice of life for modern married Henry and Catherine#I LOVE THEM SO MUCH#and sorry not sorry for the fandom meta#i actually love how modern AU Northanger Abbey just has to be about fandom#and attitudes towards certain kinds of YA fiction#and it just blows my mind that anyone doing a modern NA might think it was about anything ese#*else#rose writes
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meeting the zoldycks pt. 1
part 7 of Cathexis
a/n: we’re finally here~ splitting this up into 2 parts to make it more readable.
wc: 2.2k
Cathexis
Pangs of pain from your leg jostled you awake to a foreign room. With your instincts kicking in, you tried moving only to realize your right leg was in a hard cast and the events that led to your injury replayed in your head ending with the feel of Illumi’s strong arms carrying you to his car.
Your eyes examined the dimly lit but well-furbished room for a hint that would dispel the growing fear in your chest regarding your whereabouts only to watch a Zoldyck butler come in with a tray of medical supplies that included a syringe needle.
Before you could utter a word, the young female butler set down the tray and rushed out of the room.
Anxious, you dragged your body to the edge of the bed and ignored the growing ache in your leg. Just when you were about to set your legs over the edge, purple bruising on your arm caught your eye and halted your progress. Darting your eyes up to the syringe needle the butler brought in, your mind pieced together everything and the realization you’d been sedated broke your composure.
Like clockwork, the door opened to reveal Illumi who entered the room and closed the door behind him. He approached your bed and trailed his impassive eyes over your form, lingering on your casted leg, before breaking the silence.
“How do you feel?”
“How long have I been here?” Your voice was hoarse from disuse but that didn’t stop the questions spilling from your lips. “Why am I here? What happened to bodies? Where’s my phone?”
Illumi’s eyes narrowed the slightest before repeating his question but you disregarded his question yet again.
“I need to get out of here. Ruo Wen is prob—”
Illumi’s bloodlust cut you off as the air in the room seemed to thicken and your surroundings blurred until all you could focus on was the man before you. Beads of cold sweat dotted your skin as fear coursed through your veins in the presence of such malicious Ren. You were trembling like a leaf when Illumi spoke once again.
“How. Do. You. Feel?”
You opened you mouth to speak but nothing came out as your eyes remained fixed on Illumi’s. As if he was pleased with your shaken state of mind, the bloodlust receded and your vision and breathing returned to normal.
“…F-fine! I’m fine…can I go now?” You sputtered, still reeling from the malice that’d permeated the air seconds ago.
Illumi quirked his head. “Not in this state. Your leg needs to heal completely.”
“I can recover at home just as easily.”
Illumi’s face twisted into an eerie smile. “After your little incident, I don’t think I can trust you being on your own—at least not like this.” His eyes trailed to your injured leg and your face flushed in embarrassment at the reminder of your defeat against Saul’s men.
“It was your fault he came for me.” You muttered, avoiding Illumi’s haunting gaze.
“I know. That’s why I took the job to kill him.” He replied absent-mindedly.
“So, you weren’t tracking me?” You cringed at how the question sounded but one look at Illumi’s oblivious face eased your embarrassment.
“No, I knew you were in Meteor City and, after reading up on his recent movements, I figured he would try to harm you.”
You were quiet as Illumi’s words sunk in. Despite the twisted reasoning behind it, you had to admit he’d saved your life and you were grateful. Besides, he was right regarding your current state; you wouldn’t be able to work with your leg in a cast. If you stayed at the Zoldyck mansion, you wouldn’t have to worry about medical bills, treatment, food, or running into your parent’s if they happened to drop by your condo.
“I’ll stay here until my leg heals but—”
“I’ll be sure to compensate you for your injuries and for the time you won’t be working.” Illumi dug into his pocket and fished out your phone before handing it to you. “Your boss called you a couple days ago.”
Scrolling through your missed calls, you looked up to ask the question you’d first asked him only to see Illumi closing the door behind him. The curse on your lips died when a notification from your bank confirmed the deposit of your compensation and you lied back down with a sigh before closing your eyes and going back to sleep.
It was a week after the incident when boredom lured you out of your room with the help of the crutches Canary brought you. While Illumi was on a mission, Canary had been the one tending to your needs and providing her companionship while you recovered. You quickly grew fond of the younger girl and appreciated her friendly personality. However, you couldn’t suppress your hunter instinct any longer and decided to roam the mansion in search for intel on Illumi and the Zoldycks.
As you hobbled down the hallways of the mansion, you noticed they were as dimly lit as your room with only a few lamps adorning the stone walls. You couldn’t help but chuckle how much the home reflected the ominous reputation of its inhabitants.
The possibility of running into one of the Zoldycks was one that you welcomed regardless of how dangerous it seemed. You needed to know more about the other family members—particularly Silva and Zeno—and what better way than to do it face to face.
Just when your arms began to ache after wandering for what seemed like an hour, a flash of white hair from the corner of your eyes caught your attention and you found yourself face to face with the third son, Killua Zoldyck.
You froze, unsure of what to say to the boy, but spoke when he turned around to head in the opposite direction.
“Wait! Do you know where I can rest?” Holding your breath until he turned, you plastered a pained smile on your face and leaned against the wall. “I think I overdid it.”
He was entirely different from Illumi. Where Illumi was inscrutable, you could see a myriad of emotions on Killua’s face that ranged from surprise, confusion, and finally concession. With an exasperated sigh, he closed the distance between you.
“There’s a small library nearby. Follow me.” His tone was harsh but he walked slowly enough for you to keep up with him.
The library was brighter than the hallways, with a large window letting sunlight stream in. It was fairly large with several bookcases filled with books, a couples of lounge chairs, a table, and a lit fireplace. The room was almost cozy and you let out a sigh of relief when you collapsed on the comfortable chair. Killua took your crutches and leaned them against your armrest before taking a seat in the adjacent to you.
“Thank you…” Debating whether or not to call him by his name, you trailed off only for Killua to interject.
“Killua.” He sounded hesitant but curious, nonetheless. “You’re my brother’s fiancé aren’t you.”
“Y/N L/N. I’m not his fiancé yet. I still have a couple months left of freedom.” Adding the last bit to feel out the nature of his relationship with Illumi, you were pleased to hear the chortle that escaped the Killua.
“Guess I’m not the only one who finds Illumi suffocating.” The sadness in his eyes betrayed his joking tone and you wondered just how suffocating Illumi’s presence was to his younger brother. “So how did you get hurt?”
You told him about Rivero’s death, your job in Meteor City, and the encounter with Saul and his men ending in their deaths at the hand of Illumi. Killua was quick to point out Illumi as the root cause of your accident and you quickly found yourself warming up to him.
“Illumi will kill anyone who interferes with his plans. He also likes to control those around him.”
“So I’ve noticed.” You said and rubbed the back of your neck where Illumi’s needle had once been embedded. “Sounds like you don’t agree with his ways.”
Killua visibly tensed and you wondered if you went too far. Just when you were going to backtrack, Killua’s body deflated in defeat before scanning the room for intruders despite being the only two people present.
“Illumi and my father expect me to be an assassin for the rest of my life but I don’t want to keep killing people.” Killua admitted, fidgeting with the material of his shorts.
“And what do you want to do?”
Killua’s eyes widened as they met yours and you couldn’t help but feel for the younger boy. “I…I want to have fun.”
You reached over and placed your hand over his. “Then you should go and have fun. This is our only life so we should do the things we want to do—not what other’s want us to do.”
“Then why don’t you try to break off things with Illumi. If it’s contract-based then there should be ways to null it.”
Watching Killua wrack his brain for ways to break off your betrothal caused a surge of warmth to spread across your chest. He was nothing like Illumi or the rumors that circulated regarding the Zoldycks and you felt grateful to have met him first. With your mind clouded by emotions, you let your guard down even more and opened your mouth to tell Killua about your plan.
“Actually, my parents and I are—”
The door swung open to reveal an old man with white hair. You raised your guard and shut your mouth as Zeno Zoldyck shuffled over to you and Killua. With the opportunity to find out more about the Zoldycks and your marriage deal before you, the corners of your mouth rose to mimic a shy smile and you lowered your gaze.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Zoldyck.”
You looked up to find him sitting next to Killua as he regarded you before smirking. “I’m sure you are.”
He saw behind your smile and sugar-coated words but you continued the façade to avoid a confrontation you weren’t ready for. “Thank you for allowing me to recover in your home, Mr. Zoldyck, and I apologize for the inconvenience.”
“Call me Zeno,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Mr. Zoldyck is my son. As for your stay, it’s no inconvenience, after all, this will be your home soon enough.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth. You felt helpless in front of the man responsible for your betrothal and the urge to leave the mansion returned.
“How has your recovery been?”
“Huh?”
The question brought you back from your thoughts and you found Zeno studying your face the way Illumi did only you could see a twinge of genuine interest in his eyes.
“Oh, it’s been going well. My leg is almost completely healed thanks to Canary’s care.”
Zeno smiled at the mention of the young butler. “It’s good to hear Canary has served you well.”
“Did Illumi ask you for Canary?” Killua interjected but Zeno merely chuckled and shook his head.
“No, I offered her up when I heard what happened to Y/N.” Zeno then turned to you. “You see, Canary is under my supervision and, as your grandfather’s granddaughter, I wanted to make sure you were cared for.”
Zeno’s words caught you off guard. You’d always assumed Zeno hated your deceased grandfather for the large debt, so finding out that he personally sent one of his butlers to attend you was a revelation you hadn’t expected.
“Were you close with my grandfather?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t have lent him so much money if we weren’t” The old man laughed while you tried to make sense of the information you’d been given.
“I just assumed you held a grudge against him for the massive amount of debt.” You admitted, hoping Zeno would disclose more.
“Perhaps at one point I did, but he was a good friend despite his poor money management skills. Illumi told me he got into debt with other people and that you and your parents are paying off that debt.”
Your throat closed at the mention of the “other debt” lie you’d told Illumi. It wasn’t that you weren’t prepared to recount the lie to Zeno or the other Zoldycks but the way he said it, made you doubt it’s effectiveness.
Gone was the geniality on Zeno’s face as his eyes searched for a chink in your armor that he could exploit. Knowing you were on thin ice, you played off your surprise as embarrassment over the large amounts of debt your late grandfather owed others which seemed to get Zeno off your tail.
Killua saved you by changing the topic to your work experience as a hunter and you were more than happy to oblige with tales of your jobs from the most difficult, interesting, and just flat out weird. Killua seemed to enjoy your tales while Zeno would nod occasionally to show he was listening but never commented. Eventually, Killua asked about the Hunter Exam but just then a knock on the door interrupted you and the door swung open to reveal Gotoh, one of the butlers you were familiar with, who informed Zeno that dinner was being served.
“You should join us, Y/N.” Zeno declared and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion. “My son and his wife would like to meet you.”
#illumi x reader#illumi fanfic#illumi x you#hxh#hxh fanfic#illumi x y/n#hxh x reader#hxh x you#illumi#illumi zoldyck#hunter x hunter#hxh x y/n#killua#killua zoldyck#zeno zoldyck#ongoing fic#slow burn#navs.hxh#navs.cathexis
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A Special Kind of Attention (Ahkmenrah x Reader)
Description: The young Prince, who you are in the employ of, enjoys playing pranks and generally tormenting you.
Notes: pretty heavily implied male reader, but its still gender neutral! if you ever wanted to dom ahk, heres your chance to live vicariously through your imagination. ahk has some major bde in this fic
WC: 3.6k
*- this is a reference to a wellknown myth at the time. basically, its saying he should stick cum up his ass (and thus label himself a bottom)
+
No matter how much sweat had gathered on the back of his sun-burned neck, he comforted himself with the fact that this would be, in the end, very much worth the work. Below his clinging hands, the bag sloshed with well water. He had passed by you earlier in the morning, as you stood guard outside the city gates, your attention unwavering from your duty. The sight of you followed by a well brought an idea into his head, and he decided seeing you drenched in water would be a fun activity.
He'd done worse before, to be fair––always to you, never to any of the other soldiers, and certainly not any civilians. By now you must've grown some deep seated resentment for him, but you never let it show. That was part of the fun––seeing just how far he could go before you lost it.
Keeping his back pressed to the wall of the entrance, he snuck up behind you, careful to keep slow so the swishing water didn't give him away. With one great heave, he moved to the tips of his toes and dunked the bag over your head, sprinting off with maniac laughter as you shouted, yanking the bag off just to see him disappear. From a distance he watched how your skin glistened, and how he could very nearly see through your clothes.
Unbeknownst to you but known to him, you would see each other later tonight––the soldiers were being rotated again, meaning the soldiers by the Nile were to protect the palace, and the palace soldiers would take over observation of the outer markets. Ahk grinned to himself, imagining you looking over dinner. It wasn't often that he got to see your behavior in front of the Pharaoh, but each time was such a treat, watching you keep perfect posture and composure as he teased you any way he could imagine.
That night, he eyed you from his seat at the long dining table. You were positioned in front of the entrance of the hall, opposite another soldier, whose name he didn't care to remember. As always you kept your chin high, eyes trained on a distant wall.
He stared for as long as he could, and when at last your own gaze wavered to meet his, he winked, biting his lip with a smile. You turned away immediately, flushed with warmth.
"You're quiet this evening," said the Pharaoh, his attention directed to Ahk, who turned with wide, surprised eyes.
"Apologies," Ahk said as he returned to his dinner. "I did a lot of studying today, so my mind is a little... flighty, right now."
"I didn't see you in the library," Kamun said, raising a single, accusatory brow.
"I went to Osiris' temple to practice my handwriting," Ahk returned curtly, a quick and succinct statement that was as effective as it was fake.
"Good man," his father said with a smile. "Taking initiative. Why don't you ever do that, Kamun?"
Kamun, the eldest brother, seethed in his spot but said nothing. He was the least charismatic of the four brothers and also the most dedicated, which was an unfortunate combination for a man as prideful as him. All the work he did was brushed away, always dulled out by his younger brothers' accomplishments, yet he very rarely mentioned his own anger in front of his parents. No, most of the time it came out when Ahk was alone.
That was how you found him after dinner; his face shoved against the coarse wall, arm twisted painfully high behind him. Kamun had a knee in his back, keeping him pinned there.
"Admit it was a lie, brother," the elder hissed, readjusting his grip on Ahk's head to bang it harder against the stone.
"Go stick a head of lettuce up your ass*," Ahk said, laughing at his own joke until Kamun knocked his head against the wall again, a hollow thud coming from his skull.
You cleared your throat and both their struggling ceased, the two parting from each other.
"Good evening, my Princes," you said quietly, stepping nearer till you faced them both. The muscles in the back of your hand rippled as you strengthened your hold on your spear.
"Hello," Ahk said dully as Kamun stormed off, his hands balled into fists even when he disappeared around the corner of the hall.
You watched as Ahk rubbed at his sore arm, massaging away the strain.
"You know, he wouldn't do that if you weren't such an asshole to him," you said offhand, looking down at his injury with an unimpressed expression.
"Why are you nice to me then?"
"If I wasn't, I would get my head chopped off," you reminded him.
"Oh," he grumbled. "Right."
"I'm sure you don't need an escort to your room. Good night," you said, turning to leave before a hand grasped your upper arm, whirling you back around.
"He knocked my head pretty hard," he said with a dazed, shit-eating grin you knew all too well. "Might need some help."
You very nearly groaned audibly, but you managed to keep it behind your lips. He was just trying to get a rise out of you, was all––besides, this wouldn't take long, and you would be able to retire to your quarters, which had recently been moved into the palace. You comforted yourself with that thought as you silently walked down the halls.
Ahk being shorter than you did little to make you feel less humiliated. Actually, it only worked to make you feel worse, being bossed around by someone both younger and smaller than you. You supposed that was how most people felt when children were made Pharaoh.
"So," Ahk began, his hands behind his back, "how's your day gone?"
"Someone threw a bag of water over my head that disturbed several of the market stalls, and many merchants got angry. So we had a tussle outside the city," you recounted blandly, your eyes straight ahead despite the wealth of expressions coming from the man beside you.
"Sounds like someone made your day interesting," he said along with a smile, neither of which you replied to in any way.
By the time you made it to the double doors of Ahk's bedroom, your grip on your spear was so tight you were surprised it hadn't snapped in half yet. You helped him open the doors, weapon still in hand, and kept the doors open as he stepped inside.
"Good night, m-"
"It's still early, why don't you join me?" He asked, tilting his chin upwards with a cocky look in his eye.
"I really should -"
"Come," he ordered, beckoning you over.
Again you bit the inside of your cheek, and followed him in, letting the door slowly swing shut behind you.
"You want to know something I admire about you?" Ahk said as he wandered into his room, leaving you in the middle while he searched his bookcase.
"What's that, sir?" You asked, despite not wanting to know in the slightest.
"You've got quite the resolve," he said, turning back to you with two chalices and one jug. "Haven't seen it break yet."
"Well, I was trained in Thebes, sir. They're thorough with their teachings."
The prince handed one of the cups to you, pouring red wine that sloshed and bubbled as it landed in the goblet. He filled his own glass before setting away the jug. With that he clinked his cup against yours, the empty tink ringing in the silence. He drew a long sip, his eyes trained on yours, and remaining so even as he lowered his cup.
"Tell me about your family," the Prince said.
"I'm not sure how that's relevant to anything."
"Come now, you know all about my family--"
Who doesn't, you thought.
"––and I think it's only fair I know something about yours."
"Do you ask this of all your soldiers?" You asked as you took another sip of red wine.
"Just the handsome ones," he replied, stepping closer with a cheeky, lopsided grin.
"I don't think I need to remind you that you shouldn't be fraternizing with your employees," you said flatly.
"Mm, you're good at deflecting questions, aren't you?"
"I'm good at staying focused."
"Still... what's going on with your family that you're ever so reluctant to share anything about them?" He asked, taking another step towards you, that you now combated by taking a step backwards.
"... my sister got deported recently," you said, breaking from his gaze to look to the floor beside you. "I don't have any family besides her."
"I thought you were an Egyptian citizen?"
"I am. She isn't. She was born down south, a few years before I was born here, in Memphis. Our parents died a little while back but they would've been deported too."
"She is older than you though, isn't she? I'm sure she can take care of herself," Ahk said as he swirled his cup.
"Yes. I know."
For politeness's sake you stayed a moment longer, took another swig from your cup, before setting it aside.
"If you don't need me, I should be getting back t––"
"Oh, but I do need you," he said, stepping closer, "if you don't mind."
You stumbled as your back hit the closed door behind you, feet fumbling to regain what balance you'd lost.
"Of course... sir," you said in a monotone voice, keeping your rushing adrenaline below the knot in your throat.
The younger prince had always been a bit eccentric––stories from your coworkers and various palace dwellers had told you so. He generally did whatever he wanted, but his parents doted on him dearly, and he got away with just about everything. While it seemed a little unfair to not do the same for the eldest child, you did notice that while both siblings were passionate, Kamun was passionate in a more violent way, while Ahkmen was passionate in an undeniably flirtatious way. In the short amount of time you'd spent guarding the corridor for Ahk's room, you'd seen three different people sneaking out of his room multiple times. You had a responsibility not to become one of them.
Ahkmen circled you, stopping in front of a floor-length mirror that casted his reflection perfectly.
"My manservant got sores from work yesterday, so I sent him home early. But," he met his own gaze, "these clothes are near impossible to take off without help from another. Do you mind?"
Though the expression on your face remained a mute, dull expression, you could feel the flame burning in your cheeks. Your heartbeat pounded even in the ends of your fingers, wrapped around your spear.
"... no. Of course, my prince," you said, your voice strikingly low and rough.
A pleased smile stretched across his lips as you approached, setting your spear aside against a wall. To be fair, he did genuinely need help––the beaded collar on his shoulders was latched far behind his back, and if he tried to reach it, he might tear the sleeves or break the collar. You reached for the tiny latch, pulling and releasing the two you found.
"There's one more, bit further down," he said, still watching his own reflection. You caught your own eyes peering over his shoulder, their dark sternness piercingly depressing beside the Prince's golden colors.
With a deep breath you pushed aside his long cape, calloused fingers reaching for the last latch. You accidentally brushed against the skin of his back, hot against your cold hands, which he certainly felt judging by the way his posture straightened and he sucked in a sharp breath.
"There," you said, stepping away. "Done."
"Thank you, dear," he said as he reached up, sliding the collar off his shoulders, his cape drifting off with it.
Sleeves soon followed and the whole of his chest was bared, graced by dark freckles and the golden bands still circling his thin wrists. You watched, unaware of your own staring, as he began to tug at his belt, pulling it off his hips. His skirt sagged, exposing his hips carelessly in front of you. Something as little as a deep breath had you shaking ever so slightly.
"Is that it, my Prince?"
"Here," he said, handing you his collar, and the attached cape and sleeves.
Golden fabric piled onto your arms, soon followed by his belt, golden wristbands, and the crown on his head. It was a good deal heavier than you would've imagined, and you wondered if it ever hurt.
Your thoughts on the crown were ripped away from you, leaving your mind a blank, empty expanse the moment his skirt fell to the floor. If he noticed your stupor, he didn't say anything. Instead he simply gathered up the cloth and handed it to you, padding nude to his desk, upon which he opened a box made especially for his gold wristbands. He pulled them off, leaving him blank of identification.
As he turned, he finally caught your eye, but couldn't keep it for long. Your eyes darted back to the ground, wide with the morbid feeling stewing in your head and chest. He chuckled.
"You can set those in my wardrobe," he said, stepping towards his bed and kneeling upon it.
You dutifully obeyed, trying to get a grasp on your shaky breathing before you had to turn and face him again. Folding and taking care of clothes was absolutely not one of your skills, but you tried your best, and eventually returned to stand in front of the kneeling Prince.
He wasn't terribly muscular, more lean, but you could still see thin muscles peeking through the dark skin. Along his clavicle were two freckles––similarly, long eyelashes led to the freckles lining his cheekbones, still dusted with an earlier blush. There was no denying he was a handsome man, though that was no excuse to give into such urges. You could hardly admit to your own desires, much less act on them, which kept you from moving at all.
"A little while ago you informed me that you have no partner," he said softly, still looking you directly in the eyes.
"Yes."
"Is that still so?"
"Yes," you said. "I like to keep to myself."
A touch against your exposed thigh had you jerking backwards, a strangled grunt coming halfway out your mouth.
"No one will have to know," he murmured, dragging his touch up your sensitive skin, long untouched for most of your waking years.
Your first instinct was to pull away, which you did do at first, but the flat expanse of his palm pressing on your thigh had you rooted to the spot. Most everything in you froze, shock and surprise filling your head. Still, you tried to keep a calm expression, and gave little away.
"Is this what you wanted?" You asked.
His grin just widened, teeth digging into his bottom lip and pulling till it released, soft and red.
"Why am I your victim in all your... hijinks?"
"Well," he chuckled, "you're awfully pretty, and you won't pay any attention to me if I don't."
Seeing as you weren't struggling, he took to pulling on your belt, shifting back on the bed to make space for you. Your lack of movement was no invitation, but he must've taken it as such. One harsh tug had you stumbling forward, balancing yourself with one knee on the mattress, your hands open to catch yourself.
"Sir, I am not permitted –"
"Shhhhh," he hummed, his hand moving lightning fast to catch you by your chin, pulling you closer yet till your noses nearly touched. "Your Prince asks this of you."
The slightest movement from him––eyes fluttering shut, neck craning forward––and he was kissing you, plump lips moving as soft as rose petals against you. Warmth gathered everywhere, growing in your breath, in your moving lips, building and building till the tension became nearly too much. You tried to move backwards, oversensitive and overstimulated. But the Prince wouldn't let you––he simply held you tighter, dug his hands into your hair, and pulled you forward so forcefully you landed on top of him, your weight meeting his heat.
That heat was recognizable even through the material of your skirt, pressing against your hip. As unfortunate as it was, you could feel your own excitement growing within you, sending warmth to your face and your thighs.
"Fuck," you mumbled, mostly to yourself, when Ahk finally let you breathe.
"What?" He asked softly, petting your hair as he did his best to keep you close to him. His legs wrapped around you, the hand on your cheek keeping you facing him.
"I told myself I wouldn't do this," you said, still quiet and gruff.
"So you expected this?"
"I knew it was a possibility," you said flatly.
"Good," he said with a smile you couldn't quite understand. "That means you're prepared for this."
Before you could ask what he meant, his feet were pushing your skirt down your hips, the white linen quickly dropping to the floor. You didn't do the knot as tight as you should've this morning.
"Ahkmen ––"
"Mm, I like that," he said, grinning sly as ever. Your expression contorted with confusion, so he continued with, "I like when you say my name."
Very rarely did you ever refer to any of the royal family by their first name. Technically you could call the Pharaoh by his Horus name, but simply calling them by their status had always been easier than remembering names.
Your shock once more worked to your demise, or at least the demise of your self respect. The young prince flipped you over while you were unaware of yourself, pinning you to the bed with his hips sat on yours, directing your hands to circle his waist as he kissed you deep once more. A muffled grunt came from you, fingers instinctively digging into him.
I'm being seduced by a Prince, you thought miserably. I feel like I should be happier about this.
"I want you to use your mouth on me," he mumbled between rough kisses, taking what pleasure he wanted from you. "Wanna see what that quiet tongue can do."
He reached down to stroke his own length pressed against your stomach, leaking and hard from the tension he'd grown. Your breath caught in your throat again, unable to dislodge itself as you stared, mesmerized by the pulse of his chest and hum of his soft moans.
"Can you do that for me?" He asked as he began to grind against you.
Holy fuck, you thought, wide eyes taking in his entirety. You could finish from his begging alone.
You gripped his hips, and in one, swift movement he was beneath you, his hand returning to touch himself. Before he could properly do so you batted his hand away, stalking down the bed till your face rested above his twitching hips. You kept his eye the whole time.
Wet already began to seep to the edge of your tongue, waiting for you to finally meet his cock. The arrogant young prince had you right where he wanted you, where you had tried so hard to avoid, and where he now kept you of your own free will.
The flat of your tongue ran a long stripe up him, drawing from him a long, relieved sigh. His head fell back, one of his knees kinking upwards. You watched his reactions carefully, kissing wet spots all up and down, catching whatever dripped down. On the prominent veins you sucked a little harder, making him hiss and his back arch upwards. Every movement he made you lapped up like you were starved.
Fingers soon dug into your hair, pulling and tugging whenever you graced his sensitive spots. Soon, ready for his lack of control, you wrapped your lips around the head, gently pulling and sucking with your tongue as you began to sink deeper.
"Fuck," he said emphatically, running his fingers through the locks of your hair before tugging hard.
Soon his cock nudged the back of your throat, stopping there as you tried to swallow him down. Twice you tried unsuccessfully, but as you calmed yourself, you could feel him thrust deeper yet into you, forcing into the back of your mouth and cutting of your breath. You moaned, albeit quite muffled, from the sensation. The hand on the back of your head kept you in place as he thrusted upwards, moans tumbling from his mouth as he used you.
Caught in his hold, you did your best not to gag, dutifully swallowing around him and breathing when you could. He grew steadily faster, with less rhythm and more force shoving into you. Your hands gripped his hips to hold yourself up better, but even as you tried to pull away, tears stinging your eyes, he kept you there, locked away in the throes of his own pleasure.
Your nose remained pressed to his hip as he came, a long, sweet trail of moans following what spurted into the back of your throat. With no give to pull yourself off and no possible way to open your mouth further, you swallowed what you were given.
The burning pull on your hair soon released as well, allowing you to sit up and away from the young Prince. He was still panting, his gaze cast lazily upwards, and hands gathering in his own messy hair.
"I got a little carried away there," he mumbled, his eyes slowly closing. "I apologize for that."
"Don't worry," you said as you grabbed his hips, pulling him close to you and flipping him over. By pulling him up on his knees, you shoved his head onto the mattress, the force of it drawing a gasp from him. "You'll make up for it."
#ahkmenrah x reader#Ahkmenrah#Night at the Museum#rami malek#rami malek character#ahkmenrah x male reader#ahkmenrah x female reader
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Video Killed the Radio Star- Chapter 8 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
A/N: Hello!!! After a very very very long hiatus, school is over and I am ready to write again. I'm sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, but I did indeed get burnt out this semester and I just needed some time to recover. I also got sick with COVID-19, so I'm sorry that chapter 8 took so long to write. As regards to the things in my ask box, I will be answering them as soon as I post this chapter today. I will be working over the Summer, but I promise to write over the Summer. Thank you all for being kind and I hope that this chapter or two nerds being nerds makes up for some of it... a little at least? Also the text will be italicized
Warnings: One? Curse word? Fluff and texting?
Plot: Spencer and you fight against all judgement and ignore the growing feelings the two of you have for each other. Spencer sends you a text.
Word Count: 2.1K
Spencer had come and gone, and now your couch carried the faint smell of peppermint and old books. The moon peered through your living room window as you poured steaming water into a mug, the smell of peppermint making your stomach flip pleasantly. Your mind wandered dangerously, thinking about how sweet Spencer’s laugh sounded when you nitpicked something the Doctor had said.
Thinking about how he stood in front of your bookcase and how bright his smile became seeing The Nightingale and the Rose amongst the masses, his fingers brushing the spine for a second before he let out a soft ‘oh’. You shook your head from side to side gently, trying to shake the recent memories from your brain as you took a short sip of your tea.
You couldn’t help but feel dirty thinking about Spencer. If you were just thinking about him you would’ve felt better, but you weren’t thinking about Spencer necessarily. You were thinking about how soft his hands felt in the split second the two of you reached for the remote. You were thinking about how he used that same hand to push back his hair from his eyes, how the dying sunlight outside reached his eyes, and how he looked when he lingered for a second too long at the door.
That wasn’t right. You weren’t supposed to think about him like that, you didn’t want to. Every lingering thought was shoved into the back of your mind in a forceful act of rebellion. You needed to remain grounded, you couldn’t let yourself get carried away. He was your friend and he was going to remain your friend, just a friend.
The peppermint tea felt thick as it went down your throat, a soft chime bringing you back to reality. Your hand shot over to your phone, feeling desperate for any kind of distraction. Your mother had texted you a simple ‘Hi’ and you felt your shoulders relax instantly. You hit the call button.
___
Spencer stood in the middle of a park, he wasn’t there for a case or to play chess, he was just there-- sitting on a red blanket. His head raised to the sky as a breeze shook through his hair sweetly. He heard a gentle and familiar laugh beside him, his head snapping away from the blue sky to look at you. “What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing,”
Spencer frowned, sitting up on his elbows, eyes locked onto yours, silently interrogating you. You waved him off with a smile, “Fine,” you said, leaning your head into the palm of your hand. “I never get to see you like this, so free.”
“I’m always free, thank you very much,” Spencer taunted uncharacteristically as he felt your hand shove into his shoulder with a gentle jab.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” soft wind blew your hair into your face and Spencer could already feel his hand moving to push the hair out of your eyes, “You’re always worrying about work or a case or something else, sometimes it feels like you’re running a thousand miles a minute and I can’t catch up, but sometimes it’s nice to just see you be still for a while.”
Spencer felt pleasant shivers pass through his spine, opening up his mouth to whisper something sweet to say to you, but the words never got the chance to leave his throat as he woke up in his dark bedroom.
His eyelids fluttered gently, begging him to fall back asleep against his will. Spencer forced his eyes open, turning his head to the side to look at the time glowing on the digital clock that sat upon his nightstand. Four in the morning.
Spencer felt his face grow warm as he laid awake in bed, thinking about you. Your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your hands. Spencer didn’t like to touch people, being a slight germaphobe, he tried to avoid touching other people as much as possible. So why was he so comfortable with it in a dream? He didn’t believe that dreams reflected the subconscious, but sometimes he ignored that gnawing feeling inside his brain and believed in dream analysis.
This was one of those times. He knew that if he mentioned anything to Derek, he would make fun of him, and then he would tell Penelope and then everyone would know. So maybe this was something he was going to keep to himself. He wordlessly decided that he wouldn’t tell anyone, it felt wrong to tell anyone. You were hurting. Recovering.
Besides, if he said something-- if he reacted to it, wouldn’t that make this feeling grow? He bit his lip, rolled over on his other side, closed his eyes, and tried to resume the dream he had just woken up from.
__
A lump filled Spencer’s throat as he stepped through the elevator, coffee’s in hand. He wasn’t the best at lying about things and he worked with profilers. Literal people that could look at him and dissect his brain without him saying a word. Usually, he had the upper hand, usually, he didn’t feel so different. He had no reason to feel so strange, he was just happy, was it so strange that he felt happy? When Prentiss’s eyes fell on him, he decided yes.
The team didn’t always say something when they noticed something was off with Spencer, but most of the time they made a habit to say some teasing remark in passing. Spencer wasn’t sensitive, nor was he immune to throwing out some special one-liners of his own, he was just skittish about receiving them.
“Spencer,” Emily’s voice cut through the room, snapping Spencer’s head up from his coffee. “You seem,” she paused “Weird.”
“Weird? Reid?” Derek chuckled softly, eyes meeting Spencer’s for a quick second.
“Yep, always weird.”
“Yeah, okay, he’s being weird,”
Spencer took a long sip of his coffee, his fingertips gripping the cup a little tighter in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. He had no reason to feel weird, no reason at all. It’s not like his dream was real. It had just been so long since Spencer had liked someone as much as he liked you. That wasn’t the right way to think about it; he simply had a crush on you. That was all it was, a crush.
“I just had a good night,” he muttered nervously into the lid of his cup.
“Yeah, with a cute little miss thing that lives in Richmond.”
“Richmond?” mused Emily with a smile.
Spencer frowned at Derek, “Who even told you that? Was it Penelope, because she told me she wouldn’t tell,”
“When she says that, she means she won’t tell Hotch, but she’ll most likely always tell me.”
Emily waved her hand from side to side, “Wait go back,” she pointed at Spencer “Did you have a date yesterday?”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“No, it wasn’t a date. It was coffee. We drank coffee and talked.” Spencer argued quickly, making him seem guilty in a matter of seconds.
“Can she even do anything with that boot on?” Emily teased, earning a laugh from Derek.
“Come on, Prentiss. Reid only makes moves on girls in the middle of a case, not after.”
“That was once!”
“So you made a move on her then?” Emily implored gently, letting the interrogative teasing be cut short.
“No, we went back to her apartment to watch a show, and then I went home,” Spencer answered, trying to let his nerves settle down, when he said it out loud it sounded like it was nothing. It sounded silly. Derek and Emily shot each other a glance, shared a smile, and then both mouthed a simple ‘okay’, before going their separate ways.
Spencer knew that Emily was probably running over to whisper something to Rossi or J.J and Derek was probably heading over to Penelope to tell her what just happened. He could care less, he needed to work, and they all needed to work judging by the way Hotch walked into his office.
__
You had woken up near noon to a text that simply read; Hello.(: It was short, sweet, and from Spencer. To be fair, he had mentioned that he wasn’t the best with texting people, so the fact that he sent you a text said something.
You didn’t want to seem too eager as you texted Hey, did you have lunch yet?
You set the phone down, trying to get over the initial feeling of embarrassment that caused your cheeks to flush, remembering in a second that you were a nerd. You couldn’t text people for shit and as you stared at the message you had just sent Spencer it showed.
You sat up, sliding off to the edge of the bed, hand reaching for the phone as another chime made your heart burst. No, I spent lunch on a plane to Georgia.
Georgia?
Chime.
We got another case and the whole team is running on coffee.
Eat something soon.
Chime.
Can’t ignore a demand like that.
Good, don’t.
Chime.
Text me later?
Absolutely (:
You pressed your lips together, fighting back the growing smile on your lips as you left your phone on your bed, today already seemed promising.
Being out yesterday made you realize how much you missed being outside, the only downside was it took forever for you to get anywhere. So, you called your mom out for lunch. You found the slow walking easier to deal with when you were talking to someone else and she was worried about you, so it was a win-win.
The restaurant was crowded, crowded areas usually made you feel nervous like you were being watched. Being watched wasn’t so bad, being kidnapped was worse, and being physically abused was worse than being kidnapped. So you could deal with some crowds.
Certain things kept catching you by surprise, like the way slow-moving cars rolling down the street made you tense up, and the way you clenched your jaw as the waitress’s name tag shined ‘Heather’.
Your mother was kind enough to reach over the table to hold your hand in hers, a smile brightening her eyes effortlessly, “You look lovely today,”
You let out a small sigh and shrugged “I had a good morning,”
“Really?” she repeated, smile growing wider.
“Yeah,” you squeezed her hand gently “I went out for coffee yesterday with Spencer, too.”
“The F.B.I agent, Spencer?” You nodded quickly, hand leaving hers as you looked through the menu. “Was this a date?”
“Mom,” your eyes peered up at her, lips turned down into a gentle frown “I just went through something very traumatic, I don’t think it was a date.”
“What was it then?”
“A friend, being nice to another friend.” You replied quickly, trying to move your focus back onto the menu in your hands. You heard a small sound from your mother that reassembled an ‘okay’ before she went silent, but you could tell she was burning with questions.
You didn’t blame her, you never got out much but when you did, she was the first one to know. You had mentioned over the phone last night that the two of you were friends and he was helping you through so of the tougher things that recovery involved, but she seemed to ignore that then. You had yet to mention the addictive tendencies you were feeling, the yearning for a release, an outlet of some kind. You knew it would break her heart, so you kept quiet.
“I like him,”
“Mom,” you scolded with a smile, setting down the menu. “You met him once.”
“And he made a good impression,”
“You left the room!”
“I can read body language,”
“Okay, mom,” You scoffed as you took a sip of your water.
“All I’m saying is,” she put her hands together “Recovering doesn’t mean you have to ignore every opportunity that comes your way because you don’t think it’s the right time.” She met your eyes and let out a tiny laugh, “I know you and you won’t let anything happen if you feel like it’s not the right time, sometimes it’s not a bad thing to let things happen. Romantic things or otherwise.”
You opened your mouth to say something but instead, you let out a tiny sigh, nodding slowly. She didn’t need to know how miserable the night made you, how suffocating a day alone was for you, so you nodded. After all, maybe she was right, she was your mother.
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#CM Spoilers#Spencer CM#spencer reid x reader#Dr Reid#dr spencer reid x reader#Spencer Reid cm#CM#Criminal Minds#Criminal Minds Fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#Spencer reid x reader#Spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer Reid#spencer x you#mgg#Matthew Gray Gubler#reid#reid imagines#Video Killed the radio star
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Snow White (Ms Venablex reader)
i made this 4am lol..google translate yk? Here is pt 2
————
“What are you still doing here?", The sharp voice of Ms. Venable made you startled.
You must be really tired if you didn't hear her coming with her cane.
You turned to her uncertainly.
"I couldn't sleep and had a cup of water .. I'm sorry Ms. Venable .."
Ms. Venable lifted her chin and came up to you. The click of her cane was the only sound that filled the hallway at that moment.
"It's 4 am Y / N .." she said when she was standing in front of you.
You didn't know exactly what she was trying to say, so you just nodded.
"I'm sorry .." you repeated, looking away.
"I'll take you to your room .." she said firmly.
"You really don't have to-" you started, but she was already walking past you in the direction of your room and ignoring you.
It wasn't that you didn't want to. The problem was, you acted like an idiot around her.
Reluctantly you trotted after her.
"So .." Ms. Venable began.
"Why could not you sleep?"
"Actually, it's nothing .." you mumbled.
"But?" She asked, looking at you sideways.
"It's the silence that bothers me .." you whispered.
"Before the apocalypse, I lived in a very rainy area. And it feels weird to fall asleep without hearing the rain pounding against my window .."
"I see .." she said simply.
"But as I said, actually it's nothing. I've been living like this for almost 19 months .. while almost the whole world is no longer alive .. So it's okay .." you added.
"You don't have to apologize .." she started.
"Just because Hell is out there doesn't mean Heaven is in here .."
You nodded.
You and Ms. Venable were silent the rest of the way, but the silence was in no way uncomfortable.
Ms. Venable stopped in front of your room.
"I can come in with you if you want .." she said casually, looking down at her cane.
"You really don't have to .. go to bed and be happy that you can sleep ..", you smiled at her.
"To be honest, I can't sleep either .." she said, narrowing her eyes.
"Oh .." you exclaimed.
"Then come in ..".
You opened your room door and went ahead.
Behind you you heard Ms. Venable follow you and close the door.
It wasn't the first time Ms. Venable was in your room.
Like many rooms, yours had a fireplace that served as heating.
You sat down on the sofa across from the fireplace and Ms. Venable sat down next to you.
Not a word was spoken. You and Ms. Venable just sat and stared into the fire.
And that was okay.
Ms. Venable's mind was on the reason she couldn't sleep.
Tomorrow's day, Halloween.
As much as she loathed and hated all these people, she was by no means a murderer. No matter how condescending she'd been to her employees, no matter how cold she'd been, murder was a whole other league.
Worse was the thought of the anti-christ sitting in her outpost waiting for whatever.
Ms. Venable hated him.
But she hated herself much more for letting him humiliate her so.
Worst of all, you saw her like that ...
You were after her the one for the interview.
————————
Ms Venable left the room with her dress half open.
"Ms Venable I-", your voice faltered.
Her jaw dropped when she heard your voice behind her.
She stopped and closed her eyes, it was all a disaster.
Behind her she heard your quick steps as you walked towards her.
"What did he do to you?", Your voice was trembling.
She turned and looked down at you. Tears glittered in your eyes.
And when she saw the way you looked at her she couldn't stop more tears from running down her face.
You reached out your hand to wipe it away.
"Miss Y / L / N .." bellowed a voice behind you.
You winced and quickly lowered your hand before turning to Michael Langdon.
————————
Ms. Venable was brought back to the present when your body fell into her lap.
"Y / N ..", she exclaimed in shock and lowered her eyes to see that you had fallen asleep.
At this point, her body stiffened under you.
It felt kind of weird how you lay there and Ms Venable couldn't tell if she liked it or hated it.
But she didn't want to wake you up, which is why she didn't move at first.
And while she watched you sleep in her lap, she couldn't help but feel guilty.
You too would die tomorrow because of her. And somehow she didn't want that, because you didn't deserve it.
She reached out her hand and started combing through your hair.
You were the only one who hadn't complained about the circumstances of the outpost.
---------------
When you came into the room for dinner on the first evening, you sat between Timothy and Coco.
You looked curiously at the small cube on your plate.
"What is that?" You asked without any disgust in your voice. It was curiosity.
"It is not possible for us to cook properly .." explained Timothy.
"And that's why these cubes exist, they contain everything you need to be full and to eat healthily .."
"Fascinating .." you mumbled and poked the cube with your fork.
"Fascinating .." Ms Venable repeated quietly at the end of the table as she watched you.
"With these dice you could have helped so many people who were starving ..." you said.
The others seemed to be making fun of why you blushed. You didn't even notice the brown eyes staring at you.
----------------
Ms. Venable smiled when she remembered it.
"Fascinating ...", she repeated your words again.
Unlike the others, you were grateful; thankful for your own room, thankful for the clothes, thankful for the warmth, and also thankful for the cubes, ...
just grateful to be alive.
And even when the sun wasn't shining, you had become the sun of Outpost 3.
-------------------
Mallory gave you 4 more books to put on the shelves.
Coco came into the library, followed by Mr. Gallant.
"I don't understand why you always help the Grays ..", Coco sighed and let himself fall on the sofa.
"I don't know how it is with you, but a parents taught me to clear away my stuff myself .." you answered annoyed.
You didn't really like Coco, she always treated Mallory like shit, even though she did so much for Coco.
"We didn't pay $ 500 million to clean up now .." said Mr. Gallant, sitting next to Coco.
You shook your head blankly. What was the meaning of money now?
The tactful knock of Ms. Venable's cane made your head wander towards the door.
You did not go unnoticed how the bodies of the other people in the room stiffened at the noise.
You never really understood why everyone was so afraid of her.
Sure, the way she treated others wasn't exactly moral and how proud she walked despite her disability was a bit intimidating, but still she was only human.
And somehow you found her attitude interesting and you made it your business to find out what was behind the rock-hard shell that she showed everyone.
"Ms Venable ..", you were happy when she entered the room.
She raised her eyes to you and raised an eyebrow, which made you blush.
"What are you doing up there?" She asked, giving you a disapproving look.
'Up there,' meant the ladder that leaned against the bookcase so you could help Mallory sort the books.
"Uhm..I-" you stuttered.
"Yes?" She asked sharply, making Coco and Mr. Gallant giggle.
"I don't know what's so funny about that .." she hissed and stared at the two who immediately fell silent.
"I help Mallory sorting the books .. I had nothing to do and wanted to help her .. We're almost done anyway .." you said and her attention was directed back to you.
"Didn't I explain that the Grays serve the Purples and not the other way around ..?"
"You did, but-"
"Your place is not with them, you wear purple .. Or do you want to wear gray from today? I don't think anyone would have a problem if we had another servant from today .."
"But that's bullshit .." you snapped.
"For my whole life I was told that all people are worth the same, no matter how rich, no matter what gender, no matter what skin color. And I am sure that you were brought up under these standards, Ms. Venable. And only because the world is dying, social skills and sociability do not have to die with it .. "
When the words left your mouth, you immediately regretted it. Your eyes widened and you clapped your hand over your mouth.
Ms. Venable's eyes sparkled with anger.
"You'd better watch your loose mouth, Miss Y / L / N .." she began quietly.
"Or you end up like Stu ..."
That was the last thing she said before she left the room and the tapping of her cane continued to recede.
----------------------------------------
Ms. Venable knew the way she sat here wasn't right.
But she knew she could never be this close to you again and that was why she couldn't leave.
She had never met anyone as selfless as you were.
You seemed like the only one at the outpost who wasn't n place in the sanctuary argued.
And Ms. Venable also knew that it wasn't easy for you, even though you were always so nice to everyone.
How many times had she stood at your door and heard you cry?
You too had lost family, friends and everything else, but you were afraid of looking ungrateful, which is why you didn't show your grief to anyone, but she heard you. And every time she just wanted to open your door and make it stop.
The idea of you curling up on your bed and sobbing inside made her sick.
But she knew it wasn't right. At least she felt like she was crossing a line when comforting you.
----------------------------
„What I miss most is the weight of full shopping bags in my hand .." said Coco and made you snort at the statement.
"What do you miss most Y / N?" She asked when she noticed your reaction.
It was evening, you didn't know exactly what day (Thursday? Friday?) And everyone was sitting in the library talking about their lives before the apocalypse and what they would miss most.
You thought about it for a moment. There was so much that you missed: your family, your friends, your job, ...
"I miss breathing .." you said.
"Breathe?" Dinah asked and grinned.
You blushed when you saw their amused faces.
"Yes .. so breathing real air, we have been breathing artificial oxygen for a year, because the air outside is supposed to be contaminated .. And I would like to breathe fresh air again .."
Your gaze fell on Ms. Venable when you noticed her watching you.
"Uhm .. what are you missing, Ms. Venable ..?" You asked her.
"Me?" She asked in surprise.
You nodded.
She looked away from you and looked into the fireplace. She was kind of embarrassed, but she didn't miss anything.
She liked being in charge of Outpost 3. And it was a nice feeling to be feared.
She had her own rules in this outpost: the Victorian dress code, the separation of the Grays and the Purples, and the lack of modern technology.
And she loved being the dictator of this outpost and everyone played by her rules.
"Family .." she said curtly without looking up from the fire.
You were surprised to hear that she had a family and you wanted to ask her about it.
Ms. Venable got up and left the room, your eyes fixed on her.
"Did you know she has a family?" Whispered Mr. Gallant.
You just shook your head.
Ms. Venable had never spoken about her life before the apocalypse as if she hadn't lived properly before.
---------------------------------
You turned in her lap.
Ms. Venable instinctively lowered her gaze back to you.
There was no way she wanted you to wake up.
Again she remembered that she was going to kill you tomorrow.
You weren't allowed to die, you were too sweet, too innocent.
You were too important. Too important to her.
And Ms. Venable couldn't admit to herself that she was in love with you. From the first moment she saw you, a confused and crying mess with endless feelings of guilt for leaving your family behind, ever since she was in love with you and she wanted you to be hers.
But she had never felt this way before.
Ms. Venable was completely alien to any feelings of love and affection.
And how should she pass something like that on if she had never found out herself?
Her fingers traveled over your face and landed on your lips.
You woke up at the feeling and immediately opened your eyes.
Ms Venable immediately withdrew her hand as she stared into your sleepy eyes and wanted to jump up, but you were still on top of her.
"Ms Venable .." you whispered confused and sat up in her lap.
"I am sorry..".
She mumbled and picked up her cane.
"No ..", you cut her off and put your hand on her left hand, which was resting on the stick.
"It's okay.."
She slowly raised her right hand and brushed your hair back from your face.
Her brown eyes stared up at you as her hand lingered on your cheek.
There was a moment's hesitation before you leaned over and pressed your lips to hers.
At that moment, you were so scared that she would push you away and yell at you in disgust.
But she didn't, because she too was afraid, but much more of what she was feeling at the moment.
She just sat there, hand frozen on your cheek, her lips sealed with yours.
You are weak, Wilhemina
You shouldn't be here
That's wrong
Stop it!
The voice in her head screamed at her, but Ms. Venable ignored it. You would die anyway, it didn't matter what she did now anyway.
"I love you ..." she whispered against your lips.
"What?", You withdrew and looked at her in disbelief.
In the light of the fireplace you recognized the tear streaks that adorned her face. Like then you reached out your hand to wipe away her tears, but you hesitated because you were unsure whether you could touch her.
When she noticed this, she took your hand and placed it on her cheek.
"I love you, Y / N .." she said aloud this time.
"Oh Ms Venable..I-" you started but she put her hand on your mouth.
"You're not allergic to apples, are you?"
#wilhemina venable#wilhemina venable x reader#american horror story#sarah paulson#sarah paulson x reader#michael langdon#cordelia goode x reader#billie dean howard x reader#apocalypse#ally mayfair richards x reader#sally mckenna x reader
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