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luveline · 5 months

Note

Hi babe! Not sure how you feel about writing ab parents so feel free to ignore, but had an idea for kbd au if Steve’s parents tried to contact him/get into their lives and he’s all like stay away from my kids

kisses before dinner —steve has a tense relationship with his parents. mom!reader, 1.5k

The girls haven't seen their grandparents for… a while.

Steve's dad always has something to say about his life. How he's thrown everything away being a stay at home dad, or how idiotic it was to stay with you. The latter was enough for Steve to want to cut contact initially, but you convinced him not to do it on your behalf.

Steve, pretty much everyone we knew thought I was baby trapping you, you'd said.

Well, he'd said, attempting to lighten the mood, little do they know I baby trapped you.

Damn. Wanna do it again?

So it was funny. His parents didn't like you but they hardly liked him, he didn't mind —he was so fucking angry because who the fuck did they think they were, how could they look at you and not love you, you, in what world was it possible?— and he put up with their passive aggressive Christmas cards and their sparing visits, but then his mom took it too far.

He can remember it word for word. “Beth, honey,” his mom had said, her nose stuck in its permanent wrinkle, “why are you eating it like that? What do your friends at school think?”

“Mom, don't,” Steve had butt in. Beth didn't even go to school at that point.

“She's such a weird kid,” she said, shaking her head.

Some could argue it was fond or that she didn't mean anything by it, Bethie is very unique sometimes, but Beth turned her face to her dad with crestfallen eyes, as heartbroken as Steve had ever seen her before, and asked, “I'm weird?”

Steve doesn't remember the last time he spoke to his mom. A year ago at least.

He does miss her. But he doesn't really know her, never has, and he'd choose Beth over her without a thought. It would take a hundredth of a millisecond to decide.

That's why seeing her is a shock. He's going to see her, they live in the same town —you bumped into her a few weeks ago and had to give her the rundown. Everyone's okay. Yeah, we had another baby, she's doing great.

Steve had blown up at her. The girls had never seen him that angry in their lives and they haven't seen it since, and the gap is impassable.

Or so he thinks.

“Steve!” He tenses up. “Steve, honey!”

He can't decide what to do. He can't exactly run away; Bethie and Dove sit knee to knee in the shopping cart, Avery has her hand in his pocket, and Wren is strapped to his chest. Running would leave at least one girl behind, and where would he go? The frozen food aisle?

“Oh, it's grandma,” Avery says. “She looks… old.”

“She is old,” he says, turning reluctantly on the spot to watch his mother rush past a stack of cans of carrots. “She's ancient.”

“Steve, baby.” His mom stops in front of him, more flustered than he knew she could get back, struggling to maintain a sense of casualness. “How are you? Girls? It's been so long.”

Steve doesn't have an inkling of an idea of what to say. He's not mad anymore, but he knows she'll never change, and he knows that your family is a hundred times happier without worrying what grandma and grandpa think of you. “We're perfect,” he says.

“And this is baby Wren?”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, this is Wren.”

She's only three months old but she has a good weight to her, and she's brilliantly healthy. She blinks at the woman in front of her without recognition, her dark lashes a thick hedging. She's a beautiful baby.

“She looks like you again, Steve.”

“Yeah, my girl's good at having babies, but she hasn't mastered the mixing process,” he jokes without thinking. Love for you falls off the tongue.

His mother has the sense to make herself laugh. “Where is Y/N?” she asks.

“Mom went back to get milk!” Avery says.

“Yeah? And how are you, sweetie?”

Steve clears his throat. He understands what she's trying to do, but he remembers Beth's crushed face and he can't abide this shit again. I believed you when you said I wasn't good enough, he'd said, he'd shouted, his voice hoarse with it as you’d wrapped a hand around his wrist arm, but I will not let you do it to them. It's not happening, mom, I won't let it. You don’t get to say that to her.

“Steven…”

“Mom, we have to get going.”

“I said I was sorry,” she says.

“But you weren't.”

“Steve–” She doesn't look a thing like her son beside the similar way they begin to cry, that frown, “Please, I know I'm not perfect, we don't have to pretend I've– I'll hold my tongue. I just want to see my grandkids. I've never even held her.”

Steve covers the back of Wren's head with his hand, her baby hair soft as down. The girls are being remarkably quiet, beside Dove, who's whispering, “Who is that?” to Bethie in her clumsy toddler drawl.

“That's gran'ma,” she whispers back.

Steve's mom is, at the end of the day, their grandma. And she sucks and she doesn't deserve anymore chances, and the girls are better off without her for the majority, but…

Steve screws his eyes shut. Don't make me regret this, he thinks.

“I just want to speak to them,” she says.

“Alright,” he says quietly, covering Wren's ear. “Alright, mom, fine, but this is it. This is your chance. If you ever upset or insult one of my kids again, we're done. We will never, ever speak again. You won't see them, and you won't see me. I'm serious.”

“I'm sorry,” she says again.

“Fine.” He pulls the strap off of Wren's harness and shushes her gently as she protests, lifting her out of his arms into his mom's. She doesn't have time to decide if she's ready. This is how it's going to be. “Her head.”

“I know how to hold a baby,” she says.

You come around the aisle slowly, a little wince to your step, some residual tightness in your hips as you recover postpartum, but the frown you wear slips into surprise. “Terri?”

You save Steve and take the reins, suffering a conversation on your pregnancy, birth, and Wren's first weeks of life as Steve takes a breath. His heart races, adrenaline and a sticky, icky feeling in his chest as he watches his mom. He doesn't know if he's doing the right thing. His arms ache to steal Wren back.

It ends in an invitation for dinner. Whenever you're free, whatever you want, Steve's mom offers.

He's glad to see the back of her.

You put the milk carton in the cart and touch his elbow. “You okay?” He hums. Your hand moves up to his face, cupping his cheek. “She makes you so mad, babe. Do you need a second?”

“I think I'm pissed because…” He glances down at Wren, who's happier now she's in familiar hands. “I didn't realise she was a shitty mom. I knew we didn't get along, the same with my dad, but I didn't know…” He sighs.

“It's okay,” you say, giving him a gentle squeeze before Dove demands you pick her up. You do it unthinkingly, and that's why he's mad.

“I know what a good mother looks like,” he says. “I know how hard it is. And I know she didn't even try.”

You're all sympathy, looking like you wanna wrap him up in a cuddle in the middle of the grocery store. “You deserved better. It makes me angry too.”

“Are we going to dinner?” Beth asks.

“What, with grandma?” Avery asks.

“Not right now,” Steve says.

“Good,” Dove says decidedly, wrapping her arms around your neck to hug you, squishing your cheeks together. “Cocoa?”

“Cocoa? You want hot cocoa?” you ask, pleased.

It breaks his heart thinking about himself as a kid. He knows there weren't any moments like this, no soft touches or sweet treats that weren't begged for. You don't even think about saying no.

“And marshmallows,” you croon, rubbing the little space between her shoulders. “And we'll have to get a cinnamon roll too, for your sister. How does that sound, Beth?”

Beth doesn't like hot cocoa but she loves cinnamon rolls these days, and she nods her head exuberantly. As quick as that, the girls forget their grandma's interruption, and Steve tries his best to put it out of his mind. Family is messy, and it's harder now he has to make decisions for all of them, but he has you. His support beam, his sweetheart, you put Dove on your hip and sew your arm loosely through his. Tonight he'll talk your ear off about things you know already. You'll listen without complaint, stroking his hair back from his forehead if you have a free hand. His family growing up wasn't worth calling a family half the time, just three people connected by blood and a shared house, but the family he has today takes the cake. There's no competition.

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staytinyville · 7 months

Text

Stay Alive (5)

BTS ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

NOT BETA READ (If you would like to be my beta reader feel free to DM me :)

You nearly choked on your food as you tried your best to swallow what was in your mouth. You had come to learn that the personal nurses to the patients in the underground could spend as much time as they wanted with the patient. It was more for the notes they needed to take should anything happen with those they were taking care of.

From what you were able to tell, you thought Jungkook didn’t need that much time with you seeing as you felt he was a stable man. He was perfectly healthy which left you to question why he was there in the first place. However you figure it had to do with his DNA because according to the labs that he had to do they all called for his saliva to be tested. It made you grimace to think about how much the poor had to spit.

“Try some.” Jungkook sat in front of you at the desk in his room. He turned it into a table after you suggested you have lunch with him. He had shoved some tteokbokki in front of you, which resulted in you pulling back from the fork.

“I'm fine, Jungkook.” You laughed, pushing the man’s hand back to his face. “Enjoy your lunch.”

“Can I have some of yours?” He asked, eyes sparkling as they took in your bowl filled with noodles.

“It's just ramyeon.” You laughed lightly.

“It's my favorite.” The boy grinned at you.

You huffed at the boy’s charm, but gave in. “Alright then.” You held out your chopsticks, trying to put some noodles on Jungkook’s plate without making a mess with the broth. However the boy leaned over to take the food right off your chopsticks, which made you blush. You smiled though, giggling at the way his cheeks puffed up from trying to take all the noodles in at once.

As you moved to set your bowl back down, another pair of chopsticks came into view as they let go of the rice cakes that were on them. “Kook. I said I didn't need any.” You sighed, looking up at him.

“I took some of yours though.” He said grinning. “So you need to eat the same amount.” You laughed at his logic, but chose to enjoy the food Jungkook had given you.

“Jungkook, I got some bulgogi by accident and wanted to know if you want it-oh.” You both turned to the person who had opened the door.

The man was tall and had broad shoulders that you caught sight of first. As you took in his looks, you noticed how plump his lips were. You almost felt jealous of them. He had longer hair that reached his neck and covered his ears. It made him look like a fluffy alpaca.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.” The man spoke softly, holding onto a bowl with both hands.

“It's alright, Hyung.” Jungkook called as he stood up to get closer to the man. “This is (Y/N)! My new nurse.” The boy sweetly introduced you, making you bow your head.

“Hello. My name is Jin.” He bowed at his waist, looking back up to you.

“(Y/N).” You subconsciously said, smiling at him. His eyes seemed to have soften as they took in your look, entrapped by the way your aura seemed to be calm.

“I'll take your bulgogi.” The older man was interrupted as the youngest of the group took the bowl from him.

You tsked, frowning as you watched the boy who only looked at you with wide eyes. “Jungkook.” You lightly scolded. “Tell him thank you.”

“Thank you, Hyung.” Jungkook bashfully said, pouting at being scolded by you.

“No problem.” Jin softly told the boy. His eyes wandered back to you as he tried to figure you out.

He remembers the conversation he had with the other boys about you. It seemed the two youngest had taken a liking to you, while Hobi said you were an open book. However the eldest explained that while you were sincere, there was something blocking Hobi from looking into the kind of life you live.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” You asked when you noticed he kept looking at you.

“No.” He shook his head just like Hoseok had. “Not at all. You're just—different.” He told you.

With how the last week had gone for you, you started to wonder what it was really like to live here. You have been told on multiple occasions that the nurses here were not the kindest, however with the way these boys have spoken to you it made you question just how bad things actually might have been.

“So I've been told.” You told Jin with a small smile. “All of the other patients have told me the same thing.”

“You've met the others?” The boy questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“Just Tae and Hobi.” Jungkook answered for you, making sure to swallow the bulgogi he had eaten. “They said they liked her.”

A laugh bubbled from your throat, feeling bashful at the boy's statement. “Well be sure to tell them I like them too.” You told him.

“Not more than me?” Jungkook asked, eyes large as they looked at you hopefully.

“Are you making me pick favorites?” You playfully scolded, shaking you head at Jungkook’s question.

“Don't make her do that, Jungkook.” Jin actually scolded the boy.

“Sorry.” He pouted. “But she was mine first.” His pout deepend more as he looked at you.

“She doesn't belong to anyone.” Jin let out a deep breath, as if he was teaching something important to the boy.

“How kind of you, Jin.” You smiled at him. You stopped yourself, realizing that you were being informal with him. “I hope you don't mind me calling you that.” You quickly said.

“Not at all.” Jin shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“I'm going to put this stuff outside.” You gestured to the tray of lunch you shared with Jungkook. “I'll be back.”

You gave Jin a grateful smile as he opened the door for you, bowing his head as you walked out. When you were gone, the older boy turned to the younger one with his arms crossed as he sighed deeply.

“That's the woman you've been talking about?” The man asked. He looked at the boy he considered a brother, frowning as he thought all about what Jungkook had said about you.

The way Jungkook told everyone about made it seem like you were heaven sent. Taehyung had happily backed up the youngest member, explaining how you loved his magic tricks. Hobi however had explained that while you were an honest person and everything about you was sincere, there was something you were hiding.

“Jungkook, I don't want you to get your hopes up.” Jin spoke up.

“But she's different.” The boy pouted. “I've never felt like that before. She makes everything we've lived in the past 10 years seem like it was a fever dream.” Jin pursed his lips as he watched Jungkook have a dreamy look on his face.

“Yes but Hobi told me there are things about her he can't find.” Jin tried to explain. “He's skeptical about her intentions.”

“Well my gut feeling is telling me she's perfect.” Jungkook stuck to his words. “Taehyung agrees too.”

“Taehyung is still learning about his abilities.” Jin claimed. “He's a far way from seeing people for what they truly are.”

Each one of them were able to sense certain things about a person and from what Jin gathered, you were an honest person. It did bring him joy to know there was someone out there who had such a kind energy surrounding them. However they had been there for so long they could never know who was real and who wasn’t.

Usually Hobi would be the one to tell them if the person was worth the time and not once have they found someone who would want to help them. You were also the first person who seemed to be an enigma to the most powerful of them all. It left Jin unsettled as the oldest of the group. He wanted to protect them all, but he also knew how much they wanted to find something to pull them back to the land of hopefulness.

“Hi. I'm back.” Jin’s eyes softened at the smile you had on your face when speaking to them. “Jungkook says there is an artificial green house that doubles as a park. Would you like to join us, Jin?”

The boy's eyebrows raised when you turned to him, his lips twitching upwards. “No.” Jin politely shook his head. “I should be going back to my room. It was nice meeting you, (Y/N).” He bowed his head, moving around you to the door.

“You as well, Jin.” You called, waving your hand. “I hope you have a good day.”

The man paused at the door, breath getting stuck in his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time some had said those words to him. Couldn’t think about the last time someone sounded so sincere with him. Jin always felt he had some sort of obligation over taking care of all his members as the oldest. He didn’t rest until he knew they were all properly taken care of. He might not have been the leader but his position as elder was held in the same regard. He felt paternal over all of them, especially the younger ones.

When he learned there was someone worming their way into their hearts, he wanted to make sure they would be safe. He understood now what Jungkook meant when he spoke about you. At your words he felt as though something had struck his heart and not in a bad way.

“I guess so.”

Series Masterlist

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mamamittens · 1 year

Text

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 6)

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Crew & Reader-Insert

Main|First|Previous

Warnings: References to past drugging and implied violence/offscreen death. Platonic Yandere behavior is still present, but more in the background for this chapter.

If yandere content in any way disturbs you, please do block the tag "oh sweet child of mine" as well as the appropriate variations of "yandere one piece". Do not tolerate this behavior in real life.

Stay safe and have fun.

Hopefully the next update will be a bit longer before we get to the actual plot of this whole storyline. If you have any desired character interactions among the Whitebeard Crew before the fruit incident, please let me know cause I've only got about one more update in me before that otherwise.

Word Count: 1,520

On the third day Marco apparently forgave Twin-Blade for his ‘tea transgression’—not that you did—and decided it was alright for him to meet you properly.

Twin-Blade, despite his reputation as a commander and chef on the Moby Dick, was probably the biggest goofball you’ve ever met. Undeniably charming in a practiced way that felt almost natural until he slipped up and revealed he was actually a bit of a dweeb. And very concerned about your food intake. Something about not being a healthy weight for his liking. Truthfully, you just… weren’t comfortable eating too much food after drinking what you thought was innocent tea. So anytime you did eat and he happened to be keeping an eye on you, you ate less as a precaution.

Marco noticed and had taken to smacking Twin-Blade’s head when he spent too long looking in your direction. Though certainly too old for it, he whined and cried to his nearest brother for Marco’s cruelty. Once he even tried to console himself by hugging you but your expression of distaste just made him cry for real. You’d feel bad but…

He did drug your tea once. Once is more than enough in your book.

On the fifth day you’d been tentatively allowed to eat in the mess hall with the rest of the crew as opposed to in the kitchens under Marco’s unnervingly attentive eye. He still visibly preened when you addressed him and had yet to correct you about anyone else’s title—you suspect as a bragging point but thinking too hard on the matter weirded you out.

Regardless, you found yourself grateful that you didn’t eat near Fire Fist. The way the young man shoveled food into his mouth and aggressively went to stab anyone reaching too close to his plate was horrifying. The meat and potatoes stood no chance under his ravenous appetite despite having a plate three times as stacked as anyone else. There was pie for dessert as well, and usually you’d be all for it, but Twin-Blade seemed keen to know your reaction to the treat. Almost as glutenous as Fire Fist, the man seated next to you was trying to cajole his opposing seat mate for his dessert.

Large and with many braids in his pitch-black beard and hair, he laughed every time he was denied in good nature. His dark eyes met yours and he grinned cheerfully.

“Zehahahaha~! You going to eat that?” He pointed to the still untouched plate of cherry pie. You grimaced, glancing at Twin-Blade from several tables over.

“I think Twin-Blade would cry if I didn’t…” You paused for only a moment before sliding the dessert to the pirate. “Have at it.”

He cackled loudly but didn’t think twice about eating the slice.

“Zehahahaha! Now that’s cold to our poor commander! What did he do to you, marine?” He winked, polishing off the plate with clear satisfaction.

You looked at Twin-Blade, his expression crestfallen as he laid his head onto Flintlock Pistol’s shoulder. The immaculately dressed man seemed to roll his eyes and give you a dry look. Clearly blaming you for his current predicament. You smiled back.

“He knows what he did.”

You didn’t want to be here. The least they could do was let you have small victories to yourself. Fire Fist suddenly shoved himself in beside you, arm resting over your shoulder as he scooped up what little you hadn’t eaten yet.

“He really is sorry, you know.” Fire Fist murmured between bites, catching you as your nose wrinkled in distaste.

“It’s the principle of the matter, Fire Fist.” You huffed, finding yourself awkward crammed between Fire Fist’s too hot body and the man that liked cherry pie a lot.

A heavy hand thumped you back as he laughed.

“Zehahahaha! Let them give Commander Thatch a hard time for a bit. I think he’s enjoying having an excuse to be dramatic for once.” He laughed. “I’m Teach, by the way! Zehahaha!”

He was an awful jolly sort of pirate, wasn’t he?

“And call me Ace already! Marco’s been so mean lately about you only using his name. What’d he do to earn that, anyhow?”

You huffed, cheeks hot as you grumbled.

“… he’s a very pretty bird.”

That sent the entire table into a fit of laughter. Fire Fist choked on his own laughter.

“W-Would you forgive him if he wore cat ears?” Fire Fist cackled.

You couldn’t help but glance at the man in question. Cat ears, huh?

You stopped breathing, your lips pressed together in a firm line as you fought against the sheer ridiculousness of the image that appeared in your head.

They’re pirates!

They kidnapped you!

You are a marine on a Yonko ship!

Wearing cat ears to make up for drugging your tea means nothing!

…

…Would he wear it on his head or the top of his pompadour?

Your body shook, sounds of concern growing around you as you covered your face. Desperate to hide the wide grin at the mental image. The worst part is that you’re not convinced that he wouldn’t do it by now either.

“H-Hey, it’s alright! I-I’m sorry?!” Ace whispered desperately, rubbing your back.

You snorted, giggling breathlessly as your glasses fogged up. Tears in your eyes as you laughed uncontrollably. Distantly, you wondered if this is what a mental breakdown felt like. The stress from your situation finally cracking you like an egg. Not quite round the bend for crazy town, you shook your head.

“I-It wouldn’t h-help! Ahah~snck!” You whispered breathlessly, smacking Ace’s hands away as you tried to bury your face in your arms. Anytime you managed to regain control it was ruined by looking at Ace’s beaming grin. “S-Stop looking at me like tha-aat~! Snck-gh~!”

“I don’t know… you seem to think it’s pretty funny~” Ace cooed as you shook your head.

“Ssshuut up! Shut up!” You cried out, wiping your eyes and gasping for air. After several more moments you finally manged to calm down. Only to look at Ace with a wobbly smile. “Do you think he’d wear it on his pompadour?”

Ace froze. His face growing red as he glanced at Twin-Blade and back at you several times.

Finally, he cracked, sending you both into hysterics again.

“See! Look, Izooouu! They are laughing at me!” You heard Twin-Blade cry out from across the room as you collapsed against Ace’s side. The logia user wheezing with tears in his eyes.

Not even Whitebeard joining in with his own laughter could ruin the moment.

You hadn’t laughed this hard in ages. All your marine comrades either too distant, busy, or dicks to joke around with.

You snagged a newspaper to hide your face better. Foggy glasses obscuring the headline about a ‘crackdown of justice’ in Paradise with brutal and swift executions.

Distantly, you wondered if your superiors had some sort of plan to rescue you or if they’d given up. It wasn’t just any crew that had you, after all.

--*--

“I’m afraid that right now we can’t afford to directly confront Whitebeard, I’m sorry—” Sengoku was cut off by a fist driving into the wall of his office. He glared at the younger man, knuckles white before he relaxed. Taking a deep breath before continuing. “I understand your frustration. But they can’t drift at sea forever. Eventually they’ll have to dock. We can stage a rescue once we have better intelligence on their movements. You are dismissed.”

The chair was violently thrown back as the man stormed out, teeth clenched as he hissed out a bitter acknowledgement.

The temperature of his office took quite some time to right itself despite the open door and windows.

Sengoku looked over at the Ensign’s file again and sighed before closing it shut and putting it away.

He hoped that the young marine was alright. While Whitebeard had a much more… benevolent reputation, he was still a pirate. And the marine had quite the impressive devil fruit to exploit. He almost asked Garp to retrieve them but didn’t want to risk a powered-up Yonko crew retaliating against his old friend—even if Garp would find it a fun sport. Who knew what kind of things Whitebeard would be capable of with his devil fruit even more powerful? He shuddered to think about it. Let alone the many other devil fruits on the Yonko crew.

He'd just have to have faith that a more subtle approach would work. They couldn’t risk putting out a ‘alive only’ bounty to rescue the marine. Too many questions. And if the other Yonko get word before they are safely secured with their originally planned partner, it could throw the entire Grand Line into chaos. Sengoku shuddered to think of what things Charlotte Linlin or Kaido could be capable of with more power. At least Whitebeard hasn’t seen fit to take over an entire country.

Sengoku would just take what he could get at this point… and look for faster, quiet solutions to his problem before a loose canon burns through the Grand Line to solve it himself.

#yandere whitebeard crew #platonic yandere #reader insert #oh sweet child of mine #I love Thatch #and I bully him relentlessly in all my works 🥰#sorry not sorry #he's just getting a little razzed before things really go downhill #yandere one piece

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godkeis · 1 year

Note

hello! Can I req Dazai (and anyone else u wish!) caring for a sick s/o? I’ve recently gotten sick and oh my gosh I have been horrific and need some fluff 😮‍💨 remember to take care of urself and to keep hydrated!!

CARING FOR SICK S/O

genre: fluff, slight angst | headcanons

character: dazai osamu

warnings: none

author's note: oh dear 🥺 please do get a lot of rest! make sure to also drink lots of water and eat healthy foods, wishing for you fast recovery 🙏🏻

reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated! 🫶🏻

Knowing how keen Dazai is when it comes to observing anything literally, you won’t be able to hide the fact that you’re feeling a lot much more horrible the moment he laid his eyes on you

“Oh, my dear belladona! Please don’t move, you’ll break yourself!”

“Dazai, it’s just a fever.”

“No! Fever is one of the many causes of death in the world! C’mere I am taking you home and you’re resting.”

Despite Dazai’s usual playfulness, he’s keeping inside the whirling emotion of worry; the least thing he wants to see is his precious person and the love of his life looking weak and pale in front of him; Man cannot stand the fact that you’re feeling horrible yet, still wanted to proceed with your daily routine

Once home, he’ll have you lay down on his mattress and will check your temperature using the back of his hand pressed against your forehead

“Oh my, you’re burning up”

“Dazai, it’s just a fever you don’t have to wo–”

“Or does my belladonna wants to be strapped in bed so you won’t be able to move?” he’ll tease you with the most annoying grin plastered on his face; of course, he’s not Dazai without messing with you

With that, you won’t have a choice but to let him take care of you; he may not look like it but Dazai exactly knows what to do

We all know that Dazai likes to order people around to do things for him but this is an exemption; he’ll pick everything up from medicine to food for you personally

He’ll get the best porridge in Yokohama City and will make sure that it is warm enough to your liking; he’s also the type to spoonfeed you if you can’t eat by yourself and that will include him getting a few bites of the said soup meal and your scolding that he’ll catch the fever too if you share the same spoon

Meds will follow and he’ll make sure that you take it on time; seeing you struggle with swallowing the pill makes his face grimace because it must be painful for you; he silently wishes that he get the fever instead of you because he cannot see the fact that you’re struggling so much even with just drinking water

“Rest now, love. I’ll be here right by your side.”

A suicide advocate never lies to his words, he says and he means that; the moment you close your eyes to get rest, he never left your side

He’s sitting beside you, reading the book heaven knows how many times he finished while constantly checking your temperature every hour and changing the cold towel on your forehead

He’ll intertwine his fingers in your hand to warm your skin when he saw you shiverring

Pushing the futon to shield your body from the vibrating air, he’ll place a gentle peck on your cheeks and smile

“Recover well, my lovely belladonna.”

The following day, he’ll persuade you to take off from your school or work to get proper rest and he’ll also seize this chance to get away from the paperwork he left at the agency that Kunikida is probably working on right now with a huge “you’re so dead to me, Dazai” written on his face

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valkeakuulas · 6 months

Note

❤ Fives/Rex

To the people who see the black heart, I was informed other ways that the heart is NOT meant to be black but red, so there'll be no angst when it comes to these two. Not on my watch!

I've also tried something a little different with this. ... This also came out a bit of crack-y.

** ** ** ** ❤️ first kiss / realization

It had been an accident.

("It really was, stop rolling your eyes, Echo!")

They had been called back to the orbit half a cycle ago, meaning Fives was still more sleepwalking than actually awake when he made his way to the commissary. The path had been beaten so deep into his hind-brain that he managed to get himself a tray of food, find an empty seat, and actually sit down...

... right next to a droopy Rex.

"Fives," he greeted, tired, and it was his voice that startled Fives back to the awake world.

"S-sir," Fives stuttered, flushing a little, but Rex waved him off.

"It's alright, I'm too tired to care about decorum right now. Have you and Echo been at the medbay already?" Rex asked instead, picking listlessly at his food, a lovely brown-grey mush with a healthy dollop of something... yellow?

"Echo's still stuck there, they found some weird rash on his lower back they wanted to inspect a bit more," Fives explained, picking his spoon and bravely taking a bit of his mush.

Next to him, Rex grimaced a little. "Sounds bad."

"Nah, First Aid was on duty. Echo's just pleased that he can be topless around him," Fives replied, forgetting that perhaps Echo didn't want their Captain to hear about him preening at a cute medic.

("You told him that?")

("Yeah, what about it?")

("Fives!")

Rex actually snorted at that, a little grin tilting a corner of his mouth, and Fives felt his heart skip a beat. Seeing the Captain smile despite the dark bruises beneath his eyes and the paleness of his skin really warmed Fives from head to toe. Even the brown-grey mush tasted a lot better than it had just a second ago.

Looking at Rex's tray, he realised that the other man had no drink with him.

"You need some water?" Fives asked, pointing at the empty spot on the tray.

Blinking, Rex looked down. "Huh. I swore I had some with me..." he muttered, the grin turning into a frown.

No, noo frowns, Fives cried mentally and quickly got up to his feet. "I'll get you water," he informed and before Rex could resist, Fives was marching towards the drink station.

His tired brain felt mighty pleased when he returned to Rex two minutes later, carefully holding a cup full of water.

"There you go, some nice cool water to quench your thirst," Fives declared with a grin as he placed his bounty on Rex's tray, and Rex was shaking his head but with a fond smile.

"Thank you, Fives," he said, picking up the cup and taking a sip.

"Anytime, Captain," Fives replied, feeling giddy as he got a second smile.

It was then that his sleepy but now happy-sleepy brain decided to screw Fives over because the next thing he knew, Fives was pressing a kiss on Rex's cheek, feeling the stubble covering it brushing against his lips.

Everything that happened after that took five seconds, max:

Someone choked in on their mush, hacking loudly.

Rex froze, water dripping on him when he forgot to swallow.

And Fives? Fives straightened himself like he'd been electrocuted.

"Uh..."

Slowly, Rex turned towards Fives, his eyes wide in shock but had Fives not been 0.2 seconds away from freaking out, he might've noticed a shimmer of hopefulness in them.

But the moment the five seconds hit its mark, Fives spun around and all but fled from the commissary, boots thudding against the metallic floors.

A second later, another set of boots hit the floor, pounding after the fleeing ARC trooper.

The two plates of brown-grey mush were left cooling down on their plates.

("Oh, so it's okay for you to laugh at me? Not cool, vod, so not cool.")

("You kind of deserve it, Fives. Escaping like that before a man can even say anything.")

("You're my boyfriend, shouldn't you be on my side?")

("I'm always on your side. Even when your sleepy brain decides it's OK to plant a kiss on the cheek of the man who's been crushing at you for months now.")

("Eww, you two knock that out, I don't want to see my vod and Captain necking like a pair of rathars in love.")

#come-chaos #asks #Fives #Captain Rex #Star Wars: The Clone Wars #fanfiction #OTP #clone shipping #valkeakuulas writes AKA butchers English grammar #Echo

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puppy-coded · 2 years

Text

cat!{e.m.}

✰ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: light swearing

✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

✰ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1350 words

Eddie had come home from work only to hear a faint ‘meow’ from under the trailer. He all but crawled under it to get the cat he knew was under it. He was so excited when he was finally able to get the cat.

He was especially excited to show you, hoping you were a cat person.

He held the cat to his face and kept moving so the cat would face him. “Okay, Cat, be as cute as possible. I’m gonna show you to my girlfriend and we both need a ‘yes’ on this one,” He whispered to it.

The cat very vaguely ‘nodded’ and he went into the trailer.

“Hey babe! Look who I found under the trailer.” He said loudly, causing you to pick your head up from your book.

You stared at him from your spot on the couch before answering. “... Dustin?”

“What? No- Why?” Eddie faltered, trying to figure out what you were trying to connect.

“Kids obsessed,” You shrugged.

“No. I found a cat.” Eddie told you.

You shot up, throwing your book down without a bookmark. “Oh my goodness gracious a cat!” You said happily, going over to your boyfriend to pet it.

Eddie smiled proudly. “Yeah, cute isn’t she?”

“How do you know it’s a she? Did you check?” You asked.

Eddie grimaced at the thought. “No, it’s just the vibe I got. What do you want me to call the cat? It?” He asked with a fake laugh.

“Let’s take it to the vet just to make sure first of all and to see if there’s a missing cat poster.” You suggested, grabbing a jacket and Eddie’s keys.

“Also, vaccinations and worms right?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah. That too.” You said, already out the door. “Can I drive?”

“Fat chance,” Eddie called. “Hold the cat in your seat.”

. . .

You and Eddie were nervously waiting in the waiting room for the cat. You were holding onto his arm and curled into the chair and his leg was bouncing like crazy. It’s always bouncing but not as fast as it was when you were waiting for the cat.

The vet came out with the cat and called you two up. You got up there and the vet smiled at you two.

“Okay, first of all your cat is so cute. She’s-” The vet started.

“Ha! She! I was right,” Eddie celebrated, sticking his tongue out at you.

You laughed at his reaction. “Eddie, let the vet talk.”

He crossed his arms and pointed to the vet. “Right. Sorry, continue.”

The vet nodded and continued. “Well, she’s a very healthy cat and is a very good age to be semi-trained. I’d snatch her up since she’s not on the ‘missing pets’ poster.” She informed you.

Eddie was nodding along the whole time. “What about, like, the medical stuff? Like vaccinations and sh... stuff.” Eddie corrected.

“No, just because she’s still pretty young. I would bring her in once she hits the one year mark.” The vet told him.

“She’s still a kitten?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” You and Eddie let out at the same time.

You got your cat back and took her to Eddie’s van. He got in and was almost squealing when he saw the cat.

He started the van and started to head in the direction of Petland for stuff for your new cat such as food.

“We have a cat!” He said excitedly.

“We have a cat!” You responded. “What do you wanna name her?”

Eddie was silent for a second before responding. “What about... Bella?”

You shrugged. “Meh. How about Charlie?” You suggested.

Eddie made a face when you suggested it. “Doesn’t do anything. What about Wendy?” He asked hopefully.

“Ooo! I like Wendy.” You agreed, kissing the cat on the head. “She seems like a Wendy.”

Eddie smiled at you and Wendy. “Good, because it’s the name of the lead singer of a band I like.”

“Figured.” You sighed dramatically. “What color harness should we get her?” You asked. “I was thinking purple.”

“Definitely purple.” Eddie agreed. “Pink is overdone.”

“Agreed. Matching leash?” You asked, already envisioning how walking around Hawkins with Eddie and Wendy would probably go.

Eddie saying “duh” was all that interrupted your thoughts of a peaceful cold weather walk.

“What type of cat food?” You asked.

“Dry.” Eddie responded quickly. “Wet would probably get everywhere.”

“Also expensive as all heck.” You chimed in, nodding. “Brand?” You asked, scratching Wendy behind the ears when she meowed at you.

“Uh... Let the cat decide?” Eddie suggested.

“Okay, I’m down.” You shrugged, putting Wendy down in front of three separate brands of cat food.

Wendy went straight to one of the bags and immediately started pawing at it. You picked Wendy back up and Eddie threw a bag over his shoulder since it was heavy.

“Is Wendy gonna be an outside cat or inside cat?” You asked.

Eddie gasped dramatically. “Babe, what kind of question is that? Inside.”

You shrugged. “Just asking because I grew up in the middle of nowhere and had an outside cat that disappeared after two years.” You defended. “Remember Fiona?”

“... Makes sense.” He nodded. “But she’s not disappearing on us.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking about what you and Eddie had just done. “Are we qualified to be pet parents?”

“No.” Eddie said flatly. “But we’re doing it anyway because this is probably the closest we’re gonna get to having kids.”

“Oh thank god!” You responded, putting a hand to your heart.

. . .

Eddie had been outside all day and you had no idea what he was up to. Every time you went to check on him he would wave you off.

Eventually he came back in and was really excited. “Babe! Look what I made Wendy!” He held up a small flower crown proudly in one hand.

“Oh my god cute!” You exclaimed. Wendy looked up from her food bowl at the noise and came over to meow at the two of you.

Eddie held up two more flower crowns that could fit the both of you. “The three of us are matching now!”

“Eddie. That is so cute. C’mere Wendy.” He put yours on you and you picked up Wendy.

He situated the crown on her carefully and she meowed again. Wendy pawed at it until it fell off. You put her down and she ignored the flower crown.

“It’s the thought that counts babe.” You assured Eddie with a kiss on the cheek.

. . .

You and Eddie were laying in bed quietly doing things when Wendy came into the room. She crawled through Eddies arms and laid on his chest. Eddie kissed the top of Wendy’s head and put his new song on the nightstand.

You watched the whole thing go down with a smile. “I have never thought I’d be jealous of a cat for cuddling with my boyfriend but here we are,” You sighed. “She’s stealing the love of my life.”

Eddie chuckled and started to pet Wendy. “There’s enough of me to go around ladies. No need to push.”

You covered your face with your book and groaned. “Oh my god, shut up.”

“Quit. You love it.” He said, reaching out to you without disrupting your cat.

“I do but you’re still a weirdo.” You told him, turning over to put your book on he ground next to your side of the bed.

“Yeah. I’m Wendy’s weirdo.” He agreed.

“Eddie,” You giggled.

“Yours too. That was always implied,” He mockingly defended.

You turned to face him, propping yourself up and resting your head on your hand.“We’re gonna be great parents.”

He looked at you slightly taken aback by your statement. “I thought you didn’t want kids?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

You smiled gently. “I changed my mind. You’d be a great dad.” You complimented, tapping his nose.

“Stop, I’m gonna cry.” He said, fanning his eyes.

You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm. “I was being serious asshole.”

“I know.” Eddie said, disrupting Wendy so he could kiss your cheek before you went to bed.

561 notes · View notes

https-furina · 10 months

Text

✎ let me love you.

ft. heizou x fem!reader

w.c. tba

content: fluff but a lot of angst themes+situations, cheating relationship (unloyal partner scenario), hints at an abusive relationship, mild mentions of alcohol, moderate strangers to lovers?? heizou being a comfort <3

notes: inspired by ‘let me love you’ by mario. i just instantly thought of a fic and then i was like damn let me give it to my man <3 will edit tmrw!

shikanoin heizou may not be the best at communication, at least not in a healthy manner but he’s intuitive and he has a keen eye on anyone and everything in his surroundings at all times. this is not limited to the crime scenes he rocks up, having been missing from the police station for days at a time but also to his peers within the station - when he’s there. heizou has all their faces memerised and not to mention their mannerisms too. has he spoken to them before? of course not but heizou could tell you that they have a little sister training to be a shrine maiden.

one of these colleagues that heizou has studied numerous times while sipping coffee is uesugi. he’s fairly new to the station but heizou succumbs to his loud thoughts and conspiracy rambles more often than not. was this under the job description for a doushin? absolutely not, heizou considers walking away the next time uesugi approaches him. a fateful friday evening, another formal dinner amongst the police station’s workers and heizou is finding himself yet again, watching everyone. he likes to think he’s good at talking and he’s most certainly approachable but there’s solace in watching others and learning their traits without having to use the effort of speaking.

colleagues are still flocking in, heizou forgets how many people work at the station sometimes. perhaps it’s simply because he’s never there enough to truly care and if by chance he is in attendance at the station, his head is buried in case files and documents as if they’re his saving grace. there’s a lot of new faces he presumes joined at the same time as uesugi but he doesn’t stick around to find out, wandering to the drinks table now that it was clear of rambunctious middle aged men enlightened by how different the atmosphere is with food involved.

he pours himself a drink, bringing it up to his lips as he takes a sip. the mint is prominent, he grimaces for a moment before his eyes land on the very man he sought to avoid at this event except his arm is linked with a young woman, hair styled neatly to accompany how presentable you’d dressed for a work-related dinner. heizou clears his throat, quickly averting his gaze before he’s caught in the act. he sips the archons awful punch, hoping the mint knocks him out as uesugi’s voice grows nearer.

“oh - here, love, this is my senior i was talking about,” heizou has a lump in his throat as he prepares himself for the newbie’s endless speech, turning on his heel to face uesugi and his plus one to the event, “good evening, heizou.”

“i was starting to think you wasn’t going to show up, uesugi.” heizou quirks a brow at the flushed look on uesugi’s face, his cheeks painted a hue of pink that isn’t from embarrassment at heizou’s statement. heizou’s fingers tap the glass in his hand rhymthically.

“oh i was debating missing this one out actually but my girlfriend insisted when i told her about it,” uesugi is close now, standing beside heizou as he pours himself some of the punch that heizou is barely getting through, “said it was a good chance to bond with my seniors.”

“it is,” you’re quick to add to the conversation, a reminder to both men that you are still very much present. your tone holds a hint of annoyance as you speak to uesugi, “it’s almost the same as how much i have to drag you out of bed to attend work in the first place.”

uesugi sighs, it’s loud and tense but heizou catches the prominent stench of gin on uesugi’s breath - bingo. so uesugi turned up drunk? was it to cope with you berating him on his attendance to these matters or was you the one coping with him?

“don’t embarrass me in front of heizou, love.” his voice cracks a moment and there’s a slurred approach to the word ‘embarrass.’ your eyes glance over heizou’s face as uesugi returns to your side with the punch in his hand. he didn’t seem pleased about your boyfriend’s presence to begin with but now he seemed even more unsettled. swallowing, you catch uesugi’s threatening glare before he turns to allow heizou to see his face again.

you’re frozen on the spot, mumbling a sorry as you don’t link arms with uesugi again. instead, you cuddle your arms closer to yourself. the dress you chose for the event lacked sleeves, to which in your defence you hadn’t been prepared to be spending the evening in the tenryou commission’s courtyard. there was a chill in the air, raising the hairs on your arm but there wouldn’t be a chance of uesugi lending you his jacket now - this entire thing was your decision after all.

“hardly embarrassing you, uesugi,” heizou hums into the tense air, perhaps a little light-heartedly, “you do that to yourself enough.”

it clicks in your mind that heizou picked up on your boyfriend’s pre-dinner antics and you cringe, lowering your face but not before flashing heizou an apologetic look that he catches fairly quickly.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

shikanoin heizou, the sharpest detective in the tenryou commission; that’s what he prides himself in anyway. he isn’t sure if it applies anymore when he’s watching you converse with sango of all people. maybe he’s a little spiteful for how sango treated him during that one particular case, distrusting heizou in thinking he’d hidden important evidence from the court but he isn’t sure why he feels so annoyed to see you in her presence, laughing.

he’s almost forgotten the whole reason he’s watching you in the first place - okay, perhaps not watching you. he’s not creeping or stalking for that matter, he simply wishes to speak to you but you’ve been conversing with sango for half an hour and heizou debates how many criminals he could have put behind bars in this time. he hears you audibly bid farewell to sango, heading towards him. communication isn’t his forté, he thinks as he’s suddenly tense and unsure how to go about the situation.

heizou specialises in cracking cases and even more so cracking down on illegal trades, treasure hoarders and other crimes of the like. he doesn’t specialise in prying into his junior colleague’s life - especially his love life but after the dinner, uesugi was painted in an entirely different light to heizou. he’d spend his lunches no longer annoyed by uesugi’s constant chatter but instead that smiling, happy façade he wears in the police station. why wasn’t he like that with you?

“detective heizou,” you smile, eyes disappearing into creases that heizou thinks look like crescent moons, “fancy seeing you outside the station.”

heizou lets out a light chuckle, refusing to let his prior thoughts affect his physique as he folds his arms across his chest, pretending to look off down the street.

“shocking, i know but sometimes i do in fact leave the station,” heizou reels in how you laugh at his teasing sarcasm, hiding your face behind your hand, “how is uesugi? he hasn’t been to work so we figured he’d fallen ill.”

your face falls, the smile heizou was previously admiring gone without a trace other than pink dusting of your skin as you look away from the man. heizou can already conclude that uesugi isn’t ill, leading him to believe he needs to be chasing another possibility to this newfound case - one he presumes you’re already aware of.

“detective-” you break yourself off, debating if you should drop formalities for the sake of the mere idea you was about to propose, “heizou, can you do me a favour?”

heizou quirks a brow. he’s not an errand boy would be his first response if this was anyone else but it wasn’t some senior at the station or a junior cramming in last minute paperwork, no it was you. all things considered, he should probably do as you ask of him if he wants more intel on uesugi.

“depends what you’re asking of me.” heizou shrugs as if he wasn’t bothered by your sudden question but he was moderately concerned. if it was a legal dispute or anything of the sorts, you should be going to the station to report it in.

“don’t give me that, you’re the best detective at the tenryou commission,” you mumble, having second thoughts about this, “uesugi speaks about you all the damn time - it’s about him.”

he’s not stupid, he could tell it would regard uesugi the moment you started beating around the bush to avoid saying it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

heizou’s hands are full of papers as he stands before you, the two of you choosing to meet under the trees of the chinju forest. when heizou questioned your choice of location, you had simply stated that uesugi lacks reason to come near the forest so you spend majority of your free time hidden amongst the trees.

“that’s all evidence?” you question, eyes moving from the papers to heizou’s face as he nods in response. you swallow the lump in your throat, pride damaged at the thought of heizou seeing you like this but you couldn’t help but feel hurt. you were succumbed by it, your skin burning as a tear rolled down your cheek.

he wouldn’t vocally admit it but it hurt him to witness you crumble before him, thanks to his own handy work. it’s his job to be a detective but these are not the circumstances that he should be using his skills and intuition for. heizou clears his throat, lowering the stack of papers to his side. what fuelled heizou to commit such heinous acts, following uesugi and snooping in the man’s personal belongings?

heizou watches the crystalline tears race down your cheeks, your bottom lip trembling as your hands shake. you’re experiencing a mix of heartbreak and anger, rightfully so. heizou can’t fault you for any of your emotions despite how uesugi had been treating you behind close doors. the man simply stands in silence, letting you mourn what could have been. in the mean time, he ponders why he was so fascinated with you. heizou realises it had started the night that you dragged uesugi to the work dinner, dressed so formal yet so breathtaking heizou wasn’t sure if he’d been allowed to stare.

“what do i do now?” you croak, barely a whisper as you suddenly confide in the detective, who is still at a loss for words taking in your beauty. heizou blinks, quickly looking away with a clear of his throat.

“well…” heizou’s voice trails off and he’s not sure what to say to you. you understand, making a noise as you hold your hand out for the evidence. heizou exhales through his nose, catching how your teeth tug on your lower lip as he passes you the wad of paper - receipts, letters, etc. he watches your fingers flip through the stack, lingering on some more than others.

heizou wishes he could send a punch right to uesugi’s jaw at that moment in time, listening to your hiccups in the silence of chinju forest. usually this forest would provide you with solace, peace and a safe space but now it’d been permanently tainted with these memories you’d have, her name engraved into your head every time you even consider uesugi. heizou realises the only thing stopping him is his position at the police station and the amount of paperwork he’d have to fill on the incident.

“thank you, heizou,” you break the silence as you lower the papers, wiping your cheeks with your spare hand, “can we.. stay in contact?”

heizou’s eyebrows raise at your question, a little surprised you’d want to keep him around with how he’d just aided in the worst turn of events for you. yet you’re looking at him, helpless and emotionally vulnerable as your fingers grip the papers so tight they’re creasing.

“if that’s what you desire, i suppose why not.” heizou hides the fact he feels a little giddy at the thought of staying in touch with you but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that gives you a form of comfort you never knew you needed.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“hey, shikanoin,” heizou hums in response to his name, failing to look up from the case documents in front of him - a missing persons with potential links to a murder mystery dating five years ago, “you seen that uesugi handed in a notice?”

heizou’s eyes finally lift from the papers, meeting owada’s smug gaze. the two are in a moment of understanding silence, owada doesn’t press heizou’s involvement in uesugi’s business just as much as heizou doesn’t care to show interest in uesugi’s resign.

“really? so the kid wasn’t cut out for the station after all,” heizou muses, pretending to focus on the case files once more, “should have seen it coming when he stopped turning up.”

“you say that as if you don’t rarely turn up to work, heizou,” owada scoffs, light hearted nonetheless, “but you have a point. you’re the only person allowed to pull that kind of shit.”

heizou contemplates if he should visit you after his shift, when his paperwork is done and he’s tired of seeing graphic details of autopsy reports. you kicked uesugi out after all but he always knew he could find you out in chinju forest, listening to the streams of water trickling freely.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

he would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate your company. the two of you in silence with nothing but the breeze as your white noise as you both tend to your own things. heizou has files sprawled out carefully, his index finger tapping his chin in thought whilst you nimbly work at making a flower crown - it was a last minute decision on your behalf, your eyes glancing at him occasionally.

he’s attractive when he’s so deep in thought, the cogs turning in his head as he ponders his work. you make a noise mentally, he’s always attractive. the looks he gave uesugi at the dinner, the way his eyes softened while you cried in front of him, how he always brewed the tea when he was visiting you at home - that’s barely scraping the surface of things shikanoin heizou did that you found attractive.

“what’s on your mind?” heizou hums, eyes flickering a glance in your direction when he notices you staring. heat rises to your cheeks, coughing a little as you look back down at the sweet flower crown on your lap.

“nothing,” you mumble, biting your tongue from a spark of sudden confidence, “i just like seeing you while you’re working.”

“you should stop by the police station some time if that’s the case.” heizou chuckles, sharp eyes catching the way you fluster from his words. your pupils have dilated, looking anywhere but him. what was he insinuating? you begin to overthink a little. heizou says no more and neither do you, succumbing to your silence again.

you finish the flower crown on your lap, making a soft noise of pride as you admire your handy work. heizou notices, peeping over to also admire the work of your fingers. he had never understood the concept of flower crowns but the girls in the village he grew up in always made them and he could effortlessly call them pretty every time. he thinks your skill in being able to make them too is alluring.

without a second thought, you find yourself kneeling closer to heizou who startles at your sudden movement, watching as you gently place your handmade flower crown on burgundy hair. it sits perfectly and heizou is inclinced to believe you made the flower crown specifically for him - right? you grin, even prouder of your work as you sit back in your original position to admire the detective now.

“what? do i look pretty now?” heizou mocks, taunting you a little as you scoff and roll your eyes. he smiles.

“i would say you look pretty all the time but i don’t think you deserve the compliment now.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can’t stop bouncing your leg and you’re not entirely sure what brought it on yet you glimpse around the streets of inazuma, confirming that he is still yet to be seen. he wouldn’t pull something like this after what he’d seen you go through, right? thankfully your pessimistic thoughts are quick to be eased when the familiar, comforting detective appears before you.

“ready to repay the favour?” heizou coughs, stunned to see you dressed so nicely once more. you’re less formal than when you had first met but heizou notices the glitter of your jewellery and he can’t deny how flattering your dress is on you. you shuffle on the spot as you stand, fingers playing with the gold bangles on your wrist embarrassedly.

“of course i am,” you’re quick to respond and you swallow the thought that perhaps you seemed too eager to be essentially going on a date with the detective who ended a year long relationship, “it’s a thank you, obviously.”

heizou smirks, considerably smug that you don’t admit what is actually happening this evening. he holds a hand out for you, gesturing for you to take it when you send him a confused look.

“come on, just take it,” he chides with a teasing tone, wishing he could forever see the look on your face as you do take his hand in yours, “i’m not leading you to your death, i’m taking you to a restaurant.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

the evening air of inazuma was calming, not at all suffocating like the clammy restaurant had been but neither of you had any qualms about the matter as you walk side by side through chinju forest, a path you’d walked many times together - yet this time was different. this time, you was connected at the hands, unwilling to let the spark of skin contact go.

all evening, the two of you had got on like you had been lifelong friends - companions at this rate.

“hey - i know i’ve been joking about it but…” you look away from your joined hands, fingers laced together like they were moulded from the start, “i don’t think i’ve properly thanked you for what you’ve done with… him.”

heizou makes a noise of disgust at the mention of your now ex-boyfriend. you grimace, sending him an apologetic look to which he shakes his head.

“you don’t need to thank me, y/n. i’m just glad you’re out of that situation.” heizou sighs out, perhaps a little annoyed your paths didn’t cross sooner but then again, heizou doesn’t believe in desired outcomes and fate. in heizou’s eyes, him finding you in this lifetime is a culmination of every choice and move the two of you have made up until now - which includes you dating uesugi.

heizou feels you tense and goes to remove his hand from yours, unsure if it was because of something he said but your grip tightens on his hand in a hurried panic at the mere idea of losing the contact between you.

“wait- don’t pull away… not yet.” your voice is meek and bashful but heizou catches your words perfectly. for a moment he’s unsure if he heard you correctly but he gathers that he did when you don’t let go nor do you look at him in confusion. in fact, you clasp your spare hand over your connected hands, holding his hand in yours.

“i won’t, don’t worry,” heizou reassures you, squeezing your hand as you let out a sigh of relief, “i- uh, like the way your hand fits in mine.”

you almost curl over on the spot, heart racing at his words but you keep it together, maintaining your posture as you merely smile at his words, heat rushing to your face.

“can we do this again?” you ask, looking away to admire the glow of chinju forest’s plants and flora. heizou grins, his spare hand reaching up to fix your hair for a moment.

“what favour would you be repaying next time?” he teases and you poke your tongue out at him, followed by a little ‘hmph’ of attitude that heizou thinks is adorable, “i’m joking, unless…”

you look at him expectantly but heizou doesn’t continue, leaving you on edge at what he’s considering. but then you have a stroke of confidence bubbling in your chest, shoulders back as you declare a favour.

“how about i buy the dinner and then you can repay the favour by letting me call you mine?” the words come out without a second thought, your shy nature gone and submersed completely. heizou is astonished, where did the quiet y/n go? but he likes that stroke of confidence, the sudden rush of an ego that he wishes you would carry more often.

“see, now that’s a favour i can repay.”

#꒰꒰・♡ soft pillows #https-heizou #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin heizou #shikanoin heizou #heizou shikanoin x reader #afab!reader #genshin fanfic

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bellysoupset · 11 months

Text

Vince overeats and it gets a bit nsfw-ish. Have fun.

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Wendy frowned as she watched Vince all but inhale food across from her. This wasn't supposed to be a super nice night out, they were both in crammed schedules trying to make the most out of it, but she had never felt like he was pretending to be chivalrous around her until that very moment.

"Vin?" she put down her own burger, frowning at the frankly offensive amount of food before them, "honey, are you alright?"

"Uhm?" he frowned back, chewing quickly and washing it down with a sip of his drink, "sorry?"

"I asked, are you alright?" she gestured to the food between them. Truth be told, Wendy was far from a skinny girl herself, she was pudgy and curvy, with an appetite to match. However that was just... A lot.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

She studied his face, figuring how to best put it into words, "it's just... I don't know, it looks like you're binge eating."

Vince's eyebrows jumped up and he snorted, amused, "sorry," he wiped his mouth on the napkin, pushing more food down with the coke, "we have a really big game at the end of the month and with Luke out of commission, it means they'll call fucking Spencer to replace him and he sucks- Anyway, we'll need all hands on deck if we wanna win."

"Okay..." Wendy glared at the burger as he took yet another big bite, all but finishing the whole sandwich in four bites total, "is this why you're stress eating? Honey, that's not-"

"I'mnot" he said with a full mouth, hand coming up to shield it from her view, "I'm... not," Vince swallowed and made a little face, "stress eating. I'm the offensive line, half my job is to be big to protect the quarterback, Wen."

""Oh... So you're trying to gain weight?" She realized as her boyfriend nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, especially since I lost a bunch with this whole milk allergy bullshit."

Wendy's shoulders dropped in relief that at least it wasn't him binge eating out of some horrible stress and she happily took a bite of her own burger, watching as Vince worked through the massive meal.

"Slow down, Vin," she said after good five minutes, as he demolished yet another burger, "you'll give yourself a tummy ache."

"That's gonna happen anyway," Vince shook his head, "gotta finish this before I notice I'm full."

"That's... That doesn't sound healthy," she pouted, "Vince."

"It doesn't matter," he waved her off, "it's just for this month," he sucked in on the coke, effectively finishing it off, "besides my girl is into tummy aches, so whatev-HEY!"

She kicked him under the table, cheeks aflame, "keep your voice down!"

Vince let out a chuckle, rolling his eyes, "no one gives a crap-"

"Vince!"

"Okay, okay!" he raised a hand in surrender, only to grimace and bring it to his lips, muffling a burp, "ugh and now my stomach caught up with it."

Despite the embarrassment, the sentence went right through her like a hot flash. Wendy glared at him, picking at the empty package of her chicken nuggets, "serves you right."

He let out a little groan, muffling another burp, then breathed in deeply through his nose and ducked his head, going right back to the food.

She watched with a grimace as Vince polished off all five burgers and the box of chicken nuggets, clearly struggling with the last bits, "Honey... You don't want to eat anymore, stop..."

"I just-" he swallowed in and reached for his coke, only to find it was empty. Wendy promptly passed him her water bottle and he took a large gulp, "it's just three more."

"You're going to make yourself sick."

"No," he piled the three chicken nuggets one on top of the other and pushed them in his mouth, chewing dutifully and swallowing, "see? I'm fine."

Wendy rolled her eyes, "this would be a lot more convincing if you didn't turn actually green when you're queasy, Vin," she said, getting up from her seat, "c'mon, let's go home."

"Uhm, frisky," Vince joked, then groaned as he got up, hugging his stomach with one hand. It was pushing against the front of his hoodie, "fuck, this sucks."

"You don't say," she wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him with her towards the parking lot, "how much do you have to gain?"

"However much I can manage until the 29th," Vince answered, voice thick with the burps he was muffling, "I can feel my heartbeat in my gut."

She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing through the little hot flash, "we're in public, have some decency, Vin."

"Oh yeah?" He opened a cheeky smile, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple, "why, this is getting to you?" he whispered in her ear.

Wendy turned her head to glare at him, "Vince."

"It totally is," he chuckled, stealing a kiss, then grimacing as he pulled back, muffling yet another belch "ugh, not so fun anymore, let's go home."

The car was parked across the street in a small, family owned parking lot, and Wendy snickered as she unlocked, "bet you're really happy we didn't ride your bike here, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Vince nodded, breathing out slowly through his mouth. Wendy pouted, she didn't mean to kick him when he was down, she had expected playful banter in return. She opened the driver's door, but didn't go in, watching with a frown as Vince braced against the car with both arms and hung his head in between them, staring at the ground.

"Vin?" she circled the car in order to plant a hand in the middle of his back, "honey, are you gonna be sick?"

He nodded, unable to answer her.

She rubbed his back, in slow steady circles, "it's alright, let it up, you'll feel better..."

Vince let out a little groan, gagging and Wendy cringed in sympathy, but all that came up was a pathetic little breathy belch and some spit.

"Fuck," he whined, leaning his clammy forehead against the car's cold exterior, "hurts, Wen."

She planted a kiss on his shoulder, "you just need to lie down and it'll pass."

Vince was still groaning as she entered the car, his cheeks blazing red. He huffed and then winced, "sorry, Wen. I know this is gr-"

"Don't finish that sentence, you're not gross," she rolled her eyes, "your pants are probably squeezing the hell out of your tummy, give it some room, baby."

Before he could do anything, she reached in and pushed up his hoodie, undoing his jeans.

"Hey, be gentle!" Vince cried out as the cold back of her hand pressed against his bloated belly, "don't jostle it, Wendy."

"Sorry..." she pushed the zipper down, fixing his hoodie once more, "better?"

"Uhmm..." was his noncommittal answer, leaning back on the seat, eyes closed. Vince grimaced as yet another cramp ran through him, he knew it had been a terrible idea to scarf down food like that. While he had a big appetite, he normally took his sweet time eating. His belly was not liking one bit being this stuffed, this fast, "can we go home already?"

"Yeah, of course" Wendy answered from his left, squeezing his leg.

The car movement, which normally never bothered him, was adding yet another layer of queasiness and Vince rolled down his window, opening his eyes to get rid of the dizziness and gulping the cold night air. It was freezing, they had already had one day of snow and there were many more ahead for sure, but Wendy didn't tell him to roll the window back up.

Another belch rolled up and Vince didn't bother muffling it. It was a relief to know his girlfriend didn't mind, because if he had to hold anything back he was for sure gonna end up being sick.

He breathed in deeply through his nose, regretting his decisions. A tummyache he could take, but nothing was actually digesting, just sitting there at the base of his throat.

"Vince, honey, do you want me to pull over?"

"No," he mumbled, pressing a fist to his mouth and stealing a glance at Wendy. Her eyebrows were up, green eyes concerned, "no, I just wanna get home."

Home, as far as his girlfriend was concerned, was her apartment and not the dorms. Vince wasn't opposed to the idea, but he let out a groan as he sat down on her scalloped couch, staring at the big daisy rug, "Wen, can you get me a bowl? I don't think I'm gonna be sick, but I don't... Don't wanna mess up your rug," he planted a hand to his stomach, under the hoodie, as yet another cramp rippled through his belly.

"Are you sure you don't wanna go to the bathroom?" Wendy went to the kitchen, before returning with a large popcorn decorated bucket. Vince shook his head, leaning back and tugging on his jeans to pull them down, before pushing the hoodie up.

"No, I just need to burp and wait," he mumbled, tugging on the neckline of his hoodie.

Wendy stood behind the couch, pulling on his hoodie, "arms up," and then successfully stripped it. Vince shivered with the sudden cold, but it was better than the sensation of the warm clothes grabbing onto his tummy.

He let out another burp, tasting the chicken nuggets on the back of his throat, and groaned loudly.

Still behind the couch, he felt Wendy comb his hair, squeezing his nape, "you're okay, honey..."

"Feel fucking sick," he groaned, but leaned on her touch, trying to focus on the way she was twirling the waves of his hair in between her fingers and her nails on his scalp, instead of the awful churning and heartburn he had.

His belly let out another loud squeak, bubbling angrily and Vince winced, turning his face to muffle a thick belch against the couch's soft back. Wendy moved her cold soothing hand to cup his clammy forehead.

"Do you think tea would help? Ginger ale?"

"No," he slurred, cradling his belly with a hand, "no, can't fit anything else - Come rub my belly."

It wasn't a request, much more of an order and Wendy felt her face catch on fire. She was glad that since she was standing behind the couch and he was facing forward, Vince couldn't see her.

"Okay," she squeezed his shoulder, before circling the couch so she could sit next to him and plant her hands on his stomach. She tried not to seem too eager, but it was hard and by the lazy, slightly painful smile he opened, she knew he was reading right through her.

His stomach was gurgling fiercely and it let out a loud whine upon the pressure, causing her to make a sympathetic noise, "Aw, Vin..."

The after taste that kept splashing back up his throat was horrid and he could feel all that greasy food just sitting there, like a big lump. Vince reached out and guided her hand away from the top of his belly, where any pressure felt like too much, planting it on his side.

She pressed the heel of her hand there, rubbing in small circles and he turned his head, letting out a gurgly burp. Wendy seemed absolutely unbothered, trailing the little circles up and down and draping herself over his lap so she could plant her hands on either side of his tummy.

"Uhm," he grimaced, muffling a burp with his fist, "you're good at this."

"Yeah?" Wendy smiled back, then leaned in and planted a kiss on his stomach, her dark red lipstick leaving a mark behind that caused her eyes to sparkle, "good to know, you're my first."

"Really?" Vince raised an eyebrow, leaning his head back as a particularly bad cramp made him feel nauseous all over again. He breathed through his nose slowly, glaring at the ceiling, "I'm the first guy you ever told about this...?" kink? Preference? Fetish? He wasn't sure.

"Yeah, that too," Wendy said, moving her hands in, as if to meet at his belly button, before planting them back on his sides and again. Vince let out a thick belch, eyes watering as he could taste the greasy food.

"Too?"

"You're my first everything," she admitted quietly, then thumbs rubbing into little gentle circles right under his belly button, "well, everything important."

He was too queasy to keep up. Vince pushed her hands down to his lap, leaning forward and his belly's hang covered up her hand. Wendy looked up, concerned.

"Vin?"

"Give me a second," he said, as his mouth watered. He saw her reaching for the bucket, but Vince shook his head. He could tell there was a burp stuck, causing his stomach to throb.

Her hand that wasn't currently cupping his belly moved to rest in the middle of his back and Vince focused on it, riding out the sudden spike of nausea.

He couldn't believe he had just stuffed all that in him, after having a huge lunch and all the snacks after...

The thought of food caused him to heave and Wendy said something, before the popcorn bucket appeared in front of him. He pressed his lips tightly together, willing his stomach to stay put.

Another wet, disgusting gurgle forced him to burp again and he took the bucket, spitting the accumulating saliva. If he even attempted to swallow that, he knew his gag reflex was gonna kick in. Wendy's hand, crushed under his tummy, moved so her thumb could trace a circle around his belly button.

"It's okay, Vin, let it up-"

He belched again, the thick burp bringing the smallest stream of vomit with it and he coughed it inside the bucket, before swallowing convulsively, eyes watering with the intensity of the nausea.

"Fuck," he groaned, planting the bucket on the ground and falling back against the couch. Vince wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "ugh... Disgusting."

Wendy ignored the comment, cupping his face, pushing the hair away from his forehead, "feels better?"

"Yeah, for now," Vince nodded, leaning onto her touch. He turned his head to he could press a kiss to her open hand on his cheek, "sorry, you were saying?"

Wendy let out a snort, stroking his cheek, "nothing, it wasn't anything," she pulled back her hand, sitting up correctly on the couch, "let's go to bed?"

Vince nodded slowly, his belly felt a little more settled now that the little bit of food had come up, probably the offending bite that broke his stomach, "I'll clean this out, you go ahead," he said with a hoarse voice.

He met her back in the bedroom five mins later, ditching the pants on his usual spot at her study station and going ahead to brush his teeth. By the time he made it back to the bedroom, his girlfriend was sprawled out over the covers.

Vince raised his eyebrows as he saw her cheeky little pjs, the cleavage leaving very little to his imagination, pink shells drawn all over the matchy set.

"You're so hot," he sighed, "now I regret eating all that."

She let out an amused chuckle, rolling on the bed and grabbing the elastic of his boxers, forcing him to sit down, "if you're up to it, I'm still so hard."

It took him by surprise and Vince glanced down, but sure enough, her pants were strained on the crotch.

"Really? After I made a fool of mys-"

Wendy leaned in, shutting him up with a kiss. "Maybe because of that," she smiled against his mouth, moving the kisses to his neck, "do you want me to stop?" she asked, nibbling at his earlobe.

Vince shook his head no, "but this is risky, honey..."

"I know," she kissed down his neck, then naked chest, peppering fluttering kisses all over his bloated stomach, "you're so fucking hot."

He let out a moan, sinking against the pillows, a hand coming to cup her face. His hand was bigger than her entire face and when he cupped her chin, Wendy promptly took his fingers in her mouth, sucking on them.

"Fuck, Wendy-" Vince groaned, stroking her cheek, guiding her mouth back to his torso, "you're killing me."

She hummed, sucking a hickey right down his belly button, next to the dark hairline that disappeared inside his boxers and then tugging on the elastic again, pushing the item down.

Vince did not expect to be hard, considering the hot throbbing of his stomach taking up most of his body's attention, and the growing queasiness of all the movement, but he was proven wrong as Wendy took him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around his cock.

His hips buckled, the sudden movement forcing up a wet burp and Vince clamped a hand to his mouth. This was conflicting, all of it. The ache in his gut, the pulsing in his groin, Wendy's sultry touches, the nausea-

"Wen, stop," he tugged on the root of her hair and she pulled back immediately, raising her eyes. Her pupils were so blown that the green had been entirely devoured, cheeks flushed, lips red. He felt a pang at interrupting, his dick responding to the picture of his girlfriend with sex hair and horny dazed eyes.

"Vin?"

"Stop," he groaned, forcing himself to sit up and pulling the boxers back up, "sorry, it's just-"

"You're not into it, it's okay" she said quickly, whole face turning red, scrambling to sit back. Vince shook his head, muffling yet another burp in his hand.

"I don't even know if I'm into this or not, but..." he swallowed in, forcing his stomach to stay where it was, the sudden adrenaline spike having caused a whole new layer of nausea, "but if we go on I'm gonna puke and I really need these calories."

It looked like she had been slapped, mouth closing and opening like a fish before Wendy managed to collect herself, "that... That makes sense..." she rubbed a hand over her face and Vince frowned. He didn't mean to hurt her feelings.

"Honey, I don't mean to off-"

"Fuck," Wendy got up from the bed, pacing in front of it, bracing herself against the little work station. It caused him to get even more worried, this was not the reaction he had been expecting at all. Of the two of them, Wendy was definitely the less emotional one.

"Wen...? Wendy, I'm sorry-"

"I'm not angry," she shook her head, sounding choked up, "I'm not upset."

He snorted, forcing himself to sit up straight, legs out of the bed, even if the motion caused all the food to slosh uncomfortably, "You sound very fucking upset, honey."

"I'm not," she repeated, "I... You're not even- You don't even question? You're just- Fuck."

He couldn't follow along, "what did I do?"

Wendy shook her head again, before getting back in the bed and shutting him up with a kiss. A big, strong kiss, where she didn't pull back even when he let out a startled noise, even when she started to get breathless.

Vince was the one who pulled back, just enough to breath, still confused. She rested her forehead to his.

"You're such a fucking dream, that's all," she sighed, smiling, "come on, lie down. Let me rub your belly until we sleep."

#let it be known wendy did NOT mean she was a virgin when they got together #overeating #sickfic #emeto #vince monacelli #mywriting

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soupandsauce · 20 days

Text

OCD with Finn Hudson

Finn Hudson x Female Reader

I got back into my teenage obsession with Glee ever since I found out it's on Hulu and so I will now be writing for Glee characters! Requests are super welcome!

Summary: How Finn helps and supports you during your OCD episodes

This is mainly for my own comfort as I am really struggling with my OCD now.

Having contamination OCD is a debilitating disability. Not to mention suffering through it during high school. Your first week was comforting once you met with the counselor, Miss Pillsbury who also struggles with all things germs. She encouraged you to dive into a club to try and socialize with people. Thats what a club is after all, a group of people coming together for a period to support one another.

So you did, or rather, you ignored her idea until someone very handsome came up to you during a rather germs time.

it was lunch, and you were sitting alone in an empty classroom far away from the floating particles of the high school cafeteria. You sat down with a sigh as you opened up your bento box full of healthy and colorful food. after sanitizing your dried out hands, you started to eat. A few laughs and voices occasionally decorating the silence as students walked the halls.

One of those students was Finn Hudson, the quarterback for McKinley high as well as one of the guys known to be in glee club. He was rather tall, couldn't be shorter than six foot four and had soft brown hair. You had seen him in passing as you walked in the halls in between classes. he always had a smile on his face and seemed to be a very gentle and friendly person despite his popular status.

Finn saw you as you ate alone in the classroom. He saw how you were wiping off your fruits and the way that the table underneath you was still partially wet from what must have been a lysol wipe. It reminded him of Miss Pillsbury and how she struggles with OCD. He smiled at your cute frame, no taller than five foot two. He wanted to say hello but for some reason, he felt himself get nervous. As if your beauty enthralled him.

But before he could look away, you looked up from your lunch to see him. He tried to act normal.

"Why are you eating alone? We'd love to meet you." he says as he walks inside the classroom.

"Oh, um, Hi." I say as I blush softly, still stiff.

"Hi." he says softly as he walks over to the table you're at and sits down across from you. So he is incredibly kind.

"I'm Finn." he says "You're new right?"

I swallow a bite of food.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N" you say.

he smiles

"So why are you all alone in here?" he asks again.

You swallow again out of nervousness, you might as well be honest.

"Oh, I have a germ problem." You start

Finn's face softens even further if that's even possible as he listens.

"I'm guessing you've met the counselor?" He says with a cute smile

"You two have a lot in common."

You smile softly and blush again

"Yeah, she's encouraged me to join a club. She says it might help." You say.

Then, Finn smiles. again like he has an idea.

"Do you like music?" He asks

"Yeahhh?" you say, drawing your word out as if you know he's up to something.

Finn giggles a little before saying, "Join glee club! Or just stop by today after school to see what it's like. I'll be there." he says.

You smile softly and blush again.

"Okay" You whisper.

after school, you pack up your bag and put some hand sanitizer onto your hands, grimacing slightly as you see how dry your hands are becoming from the over use. As you stand at your locker, you see Finn walking the hall too and he gives you a smile and a wave. You smile back and wave as well before you turn back around to your locker.

Then, from behind you, a couple of football players are snickering as they both hold slashes in their hands and walk towards you. Finn watches and his usual smile quickly drops into a look of dread and worry. Finn quickly runs over to you and you turn around to see Finn, as well as these two football players all coming towards you, you flinch as they all three get so close, worried that they will touch you.

"Hey new girl, welcome to McKinley." One of the football players says with a smirk on his face as if he's up to no good.

"Don'y even think about it, dude." Finn says.

"Says you, you faggot. Everyone knows that Glee club members are all losers. She associates with you, so therefore, she's a loser too. And you know what losers get." The football guys says as he throws the contents of the slushy into the air towards you.

"No! Stop!" Finn says as he tries to block it, but he's too late. The cold, wet, and sticky slushy splashes all over your face, hair, clothes, and skin and you gasp so loud that Finn think it's a scream.

"Finn looks furious as the two guys who walk away with a strut. And for a moment, you think that Finn is going to run after them and punch em, but instead, Finn turns back to you with a terribly sorry look on his face.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry... I tried to stop them... I know you..." But he can't even finish his sentence before you start breaking down into a panic as you feel the blue slush all over you, CONTAMINATING you.

Finn watches in fear as you shrivel to the ground in a ball and cry as you hyperventilate and panic, unable to move.

"Here" Finn says as he takes you gently by the shoulders and walks you away from the large, watching crowd and into the empty football locker room.

"I-I-its- I..." You try to speak, not only about what just happened, but the fact that the locker room only worsens your situation due to the sporty, sweaty smell.

Finn is quick to fetch his duffel bag from his locker and rummage inside of it to hold out a hoodie and a pair of joggers.

He runs with a towel over to you and wipes off your face as you cry, barely registering the close proximity or how kind he is being to you for a moment. But after a few minutes of him wiping your face and hands clean, you start to catch your breath, hiccuping every so breaths s you sniffle.

"I know it's not the best place in the world, but there's showers around the corner if you wanna wash up a little. I have these clean clothes too if you wanna change." he says in the most gentle voice.

You sniffle as you look at his sorry expression, like he somehow caused it, and suddenly really start to feel for him. You start to tear up again and Finn sees it.

"N-No I didn't mean to make you cry again, im so sorry." Finn says as he stands up straight and puts his hands on his eyes.

"No Finn, you're just so sweet." You say.

"Thank you"

You then decide to take a quick shower while Finn waits right outside the locker room door, making sure that no one comes in. After about 20 minutes of scrubbing and washing, you finally come walking out slowly. Finn turns around to see you, 5'2, with damp hair, all while wearing HIS hoodie and HIS joggers which, mind you, swallow you whole. He smiles.

"How do you feel?" He asks

"better, thank you." You say with a quiet and scratchy voice from all the crying and hyperventilating.

Finn smiles back

"Do you still feel good enough for Glee club or do you want to try another day?" He asks, not wanting to pressure you after such a traumatic thing.

You feel some sort of pull to Finn, almost as if you want to be near him always.

"Only if you sit beside me, Finn" You say softly with a smile.

Time went on and Glee club was the thing that really helped you feel more normal, more accepted. And as promised, Finn sat by you each and every time. Almost everyone in the club, including Mr. Schue, were convinced that you and Finn were dating but the both of you denied it until the night of regionals. Before the show, behind the curtain, you two had a rather short conversation.

"Break a leg" You said to Finn

"I love you." he quickly gets out right before the music starts.

Since then, you two have been happily dating.

On nights where he spends the night, or a full weekend over, he always respects your boundaries and little rituals. Finn smiles as he takes off his outside clothes and changes into his inside clothes for you, giving you little winks here and there as he unbuttons his shirt. He helps you by wiping down the counters with lysol wipes after he cooks anything and helps you with the laundry.

But there are times when it gets so bad that Finn tries to help you refrain from doing your cleanings.

Often times, he sees how chapped your hands are from all the hand washing and hand sanitizer so he sits you down and rubs lotion on your hands, whispering softly how you have to take care of them. or he will challenge you to only wash your hands for a minute as he stands next to you. He praises you when you do well.

Mr. Schue really likes you and Finn because he sees himself and Miss Pillsbury in you two. he can tell that you two are going to last based off how you treat each other. And that's the main reason why you two commonly get to sing all the ballads. After performance nights, Finn and you have sleepovers where you clean the trophy while watching a movie together, it's really sweet.

#finn hudson imagine #finn hudson x reader #finn hudson #will schuester #glee #santana lopez #rachel berry #noah puckerman #sam evans #quinn fabray #glee club

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evansbby · 2 years

Note

fuckkk this au is going to haunt me honestly feel like when ari realizes up until she dies is the angstiest moments

You remember when you used to clench his arms when he fucked you, stared into his eyes, hoping, please choose me.

This is me trying.

And you tried. With the baby. With everything.

Even if you died, you’d love the baby until your last breath. Then one day, Ari did a complete turn-around. The man who used to ignore you would bring dinner to you, massage your legs, give you a little more freedom to roam around. Ask where you were. Worry about you.

It was the baby, you knew that.

At least when you were gone, he would love it to his very last breath, too.

“Are you heading out tonight?” You ask, shoving around the food on your plate. Your appetite’s disappeared drastically, and you force yourself to eat the nutrients for the baby—it’ll be bad if you didn’t—only to throw some of it up. Ari leaving for his ex-girlfriend didn’t help, but you can’t complain when you were the one who basically tore them apart, right? As a romanticist, you are the villain in the story: the least you could do is not complain when he leaves.

The man in front of you—who you can’t believe you married—grunts. “I’ll be back.”

“Have fun with—” You pause. Are you two even close enough for you to call his ex-girlfriend’s name? Still his current lover. You mull over the last few weeks, where you headed to the doctor’s appointment together and ate dinner in respective silence. It was pretty nice, actually. The first dinner that Ari stayed through. He probably hated looking at you, but he did, for a whole hour and a half.

“Sharon,” you blurt as the man moves to open the door. “I genuinely mean it, I swear. I hope you have a good time with her.”

The smile you’re wearing resembles more of a grimace, but it’s fine. It’s fine. At the very least, you wanted to be friends before the baby came.

Ari pauses from where he is. Turns. His voice is low when he asks, “You think I’m visiting Sharon?”

It’s fine. He didn’t want you to know. It’s fine.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you force out a laugh. “She did come first in your life, and I might have to concede to that. I mean, I’m sure that if I had a lover—”

“Fuck no,” his voice slices through and adds to the tense atmosphere. “You have someone else?”

Oh, God, this is awkward. And he looks ready to shoot you. “Uh, no, but I’m just saying that if you have one there’s nothing wrong with… it?”

He stares at you for a few seconds. Clenches his jaw. “I’m not visiting fucking Sharon.”

The door slams in his wake.

You must’ve been dreaming the moment.

Writing in your diary, you place the pen to the side with a sigh. In your head, you’ve memorized the trace of Ari’s fingers across your face, pushing your hair back as he held you in your sleep. You can even feel the soft press of his lips as he kissed your forehead, the way he let you bury your face in his neck.

Why was he acting this way?

Another sigh—men.

Flipping through the pages, you take out a photo. The ultrasound with your baby. A healthy boy, soon to be born. You smile and trace its small form. It’ll be a mini-Ari, that’s for sure. He’s already strong, kicking and moving about.

It’s just a shame that you can’t see him grow. How much you loved him already.

God. Hands trembling, you take in a deep, shaky breath. Just the thought of death make you scared like crazy, but the thought of not having a baby at all felt like someone was clenching your heart and twisting it.

He’ll turn out okay. Both of them will.

For now, you had to be strong for yourself.

“Looking at the baby?”

Your spine straightens at the sound of the voice, and you wipe your tears. “Yeah, it’s so cute, isn’t it? I bet he’ll be just like his dad.”

Ari is quiet for his moment as he enters the room, taking off his suit. “And not like his mom?”

“What?” You laugh. “Oh, um, I’m not sure. I don’t think there are very good qualities I have. Unless you’re talking about compassion. I mean, not that you don’t have compassion. I just think I’m a bit too much of a pushover. It’d be nice if he had more of an opinionated personality, so I don’t need to worry about him when…” When I’m gone. “When he’s a grown up and everything.”

“That’s not true,” Ari says quietly. But his words are like a declaration. “We need more empathetic and gentle people to balance out people like me. To pull them back into the proper headspace.”

“Thanks,” you hesitate. “But I still think it’d be nice if you guys were a father-son duo.”

Ari’s mouth opens and closes. There’s an awkward silence when he goes to hang his outfit. It isn’t until he’s done and about to close the door that he says, “I hope he resembles you.”

BESTIE??? HELLO??? Are you like… a certified author or something?? Bc this is so good and gripping and well written and LITERALLY WHO ARE YOU?? (you don’t have to tell me, just a hypothetical question since you sent this on anon obviously and I respect that haha)

This is so sad yet beautiful! I wish I could write like this, I can feel the push and pull within Ari!! PLEASE oh my god what the fuck

#this is how I THINK I write poyt!Steve but it isn’t half as good or poignant as this bahahahaha #anon #dear diary au

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akwolfgrl · 2 months

Text

LFT PART 39

Luffy made his way back to the platform, he had gotten blown away earlier but he had a nice nap in the street and a free lunch with Zoro so it wasn't a big deal. Zoro even showed off his cool new swords and told him all about his date with Sanji. Luffy was happy they found each other. He didn't care about romance and sex but he knew that other people did, besides the happier Sanji was the better his food would taste. Luffy also liked seeing Zoro's soft smile when he talked about Sanji, they way the corners of his eyes crinkle with joy, it was a different smile from when he was about to fight or when he found something funny. It made Luffy happy when his nakama were happy.

It was time to climb up and stand where Roger had once stood. Luffy could use his devil fruit to get up there but he didn't want to. He wanted to climb up there unaided by his rubber body, after all gold roger didn't have a devil fruit. Luffy began to climb up the platform once again, this time he made it all the way to the top.

“Wow!” Luffy exclaimed standing on the top of the platform looking out at the people gathered there. “So this is what the King of the Pirates saw before he died!”

“Hey! Get down from there! That is the property of the world government!” A voice shouted below him a man with a megaphone was angry with him. “It's only to be used for executions! So get it done bef…” Luffy watched as a woman in a cloak and hat hit the megaphone guy with a spiked club.

“Oh don't be so uptight about rules Mr. Officer it's not healthy, and Luffy… I've been looking all over for you,” The woman stared up at him and he looked down at her in confusion. She was talking to him as if she knew him personally. “Now, now don't tell me that you've forgotten my face. I'm so disappointed.”

“Wow! She's gorgeous!”

“What a beauty!”

“She has to be the most beautiful woman ever, that's for sure!”

The crowd muttered and exclaimed.

“I don't know any pretty ladies like you,” Luffy told her, still not recognizing her, then again he was the best with faces sometimes. “Who are you?” Luffy asked not liking where this was going.

“Well I most certainly haven't forgotten about you, after all you were the first man to have ever hit my beautiful face.”

“What?! I hit your face?!” He usually remembered people he hit.

“Oh the way you handled me so ugly,” She sighed and placed her hand on her check. “Why did it left me breathless,” She turned to the crowd, her arms spread wide. “Tell me everyone who among these four seas is the most beautiful one of them all?”

“You are!” Everyone cried.

“Nah,” Luffy could easily list why his crew was far prettier, Zoro was pretty like a forest, green dark and mysterious. Nami was pretty like the monarch butterflies, orange free and bright. Usopp reminded Luffy of the pictures of museums in books that Minkao would show him, filled with stories. Sanji reminded Luffy of the lights that danced in the sky when it was cold and clear, the way he always seemed to be dancing around when he was fighting or cooking.

“Yes that's right! It is me! I am the most beautiful among these four seas and even in the Grand Line!” The crowd cheered, Luffy didn't get it. Why is it so important to be the most beautiful? “There is not a single man who wouldn't kneel before me! However I only love strong men, and I will have you be mine at long last Luffy,” And she was back to staring up at him with her hand back on her cheek.

“Shut up you're so annoying,” He grimaced and sneered at her, she was weirding him out, he belonged only to himself and maybe his crew. “Just who the hell are you?”

“You still don't recognize me!?” The woman sounded upset. But Luffy could only shrug, she must not have left an impression on him, that meant she wasn't important or interesting enough for him to care.

“Freeze! This is the police. You, young lady, are under arrest for assaulting a police officer! And you young man get down from there this instant!” More police officers came running. Luffy ignored them, he'd rather stay where he was.

“You actually think you can arrest me?”

“S sir I can't, she is too beautiful..”

“I don't care, do your job!”

Behind the police officers an explosion went off and a huge piece of the fountain headed straight towards the woman. People began to scream and run from the bomb that went off. What was even happening? Luffy was very confused and concerned he didn't want the random lady to get squashed by the fountain but there wasn't anything he could do. Luffy watched as the large chuck of the fountain slid right off her leaving not even a scratch on her, crashing into a building.

“My my that was rather dangerous don't cha think?” She spoke with her other hand resting on her check this time looking towards where the bomb exploded.

“What just happened?” Luffy asked, staring in shock at the woman below him. Another chuckling figure stepped out of the smoke and dust.

“My apologies but I figured with your smooth skin you would remain unharmed, my lovely lady Alvida,” A male voice spoke.

“Alvida? Where?” Luffy put his hand on his gourd and began to look around for the ugly fat lady.

“He's talking about me, idiot!” Luffy looked back at Alvida??? What had happened to the mean fat lady he punched? He hoped Koby was doing good and working hard to achieve his dream.

“Huh? I don't know somethings weird here,” He scratched his forehead, he didn't think it was possible to change your looks so drastically in such a short amount of time.

“Ah so you noticed,” Alvida? put her hand on her hip, her clock pulled back with the other hand. “Thanks to my devil fruit, the sube sube fruit, nothing can damage my beautiful skin anymore, but my freckles did disappear. Thank you for noticing.”

“Yah that's not what I meant,” He honestly couldn't tell from here if she had freckles nor did he care.

“Anyway, if you are to be my man then you still have to prove it, you must be able to defend the man that I've teamed up with, exclusively for the purpose of finding you.”

“Ever since that day where I was blasted away!” A familiar looking man and the cloak figured behind him there, their cloaks off dramatically. “I tenaciously fought my way back to my crew, all the while wishing for the day when I could kill you. And what an adventure it was! For I poor Buggy the Clown lacked most of my body, an adventure or merriment, hellish dangers, and new friendships! A most grand adventure for the little Buggy! After much per…wait why the hell am I telling all of this to you?”

“Hi Buggy, why are you here? I don't need to hear your life story, it's boring.”

“You're still the same cheeky brat!” Buggy yelled at him.

The rest of the Buggy pirates began to terrorize the town, everyone screaming and running. Before Luffy could do anything a large heavy thing of wood came crashing down on his neck, holes for his head arms locking him in place. The man who Zoro had fought sitting on top of it.

“Nicely done Kabaji!”

“What's going on? Let me out!” Luffy demands to try to wiggle his way out.

“It's been awhile, rubber brat, is Roronoa Zoro still around? I’d love a rematch.”

“Now it's time for the public execution! You should be grateful and honored to die in the same place as the pirate king you rubber brat!” Buggy laughed loudly. It grated Luffy's nerves.

#one piece #fanfic #lust filled thoughts #monkey d luffy #luffy #buggy the clown #alvida one piece #loguetown

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animatorweirdo · 11 months

Text

When the dragons fly

Aelon learns from his mistake and willingly takes his punishment. You leave for a trip and all seems well till he begins to hear a strange melody and dreams about the forest.

Chapter 5

Warnings: some fluff moments with your dragons, mentions of nasty medicine, leaving for a trip, mentions of a cut leg, hypnotizing music and nightmares.

--------------------------------

You were leaning against the wall of the cave’s entrance, enjoying the wind and the rays of the morning sun. Birds flew across the sky, gliding over the mountains and the forests below them. The sight was lovely. It made you have a smile on your face.

You heard loud thumps of feet coming behind you, and then Baleria snuck her head beside you. She crumbled and puffed her nostrils. You chuckled and used your healthy arm to pet her rough snout.

“Anything on your mind today, girl?” You questioned as you gently patted her snout. She let out soft purs before her deep blue eyes fell on your injured arm. She looked at it intensely, pushing her head against you to sniff it.

“Hey! Easy!” you giggled as her giant head almost toppled you to the ground. When she took a few sniffs, you figured she must have smelled your injury beneath the bandages. “I’m alright. We just had some hassle with a warg the other day,” you patted her comfortably.

Baleria let out a soft snarl when you mentioned a warg.

You chuckled and continued petting her. “It’s alright now. You do not need to get worked up over a dead warg,” you explained, then glimpsed inside the cave.

Aelon was filling up the food storage and cleaning up the dens. You tasked him to do them as an additional punishment since your arm was injured. He was sweating and had dirt on his face after cleaning up Falconer’s den. You almost pitied him since he looked tired.

Baleria was relatively clean for a dragon. However, Falconer was young and rowdy, so it was no brainer which dragon would take more work to keep clean.

Aelon grabbed a red rag and tried to continue cleaning, but then Falconer grabbed the red rag and began to pull. “Falconer! No! It’s not a snack!” Aelon pulled on the rag then the two proceeded in a short tug-war. You and Baleria watched as Falconer managed to win and pulled Aelon face flat on the ground. The young dragon cackled and ran away. Aelon gave chase, trying to take back the rag with frustrated yells.

“Oh, youngsters,” you shook your head with a smile. “I don’t suppose you could watch over these two little boys while I’m gone,” you glanced at Baleria. She puffed her nostrils and made her version of rolling eyes before walking back inside the cave. You only giggled and shook your head before approaching Aelon to help him retrieve the rag before Falconer accidentally swallowed it like last time.

You popped off the cork from the bottle and drank the medicine inside. You almost gagged when you tasted the foul liquid. It burned your tongue, making you smack your lips and grimace after you drank the whole thing.

You stared at the bottle with a frown. Never have you ever tasted something so terrible as Eda’s medicine.

You heard a door shut and saw Aelon walking out with Helena. You put the empty bottle away and waited for him.

“Are you ready to go?” you questioned. Aelon looked you in the eye and silently nodded. “Alright, let us go then,” you said, then you both walked through the village to visit the workshop of your friend, Dwenn.

Dwenn was an elderly man who had been friends with you ever since you came to the village. He was kind and a talented carpenter. He took you in when you settled down and wanted to do work. You learned many skills from him and now Aelon will handle your usual chores while you are away.

You arrived at the familiar house. There was a man rocking on a chair, smoking his pipe without a care in the world until he saw you, and a grin blistered on his face.

“Good morning, little Targs,” He greeted, calling you with an old nickname he made out of your family name. You smiled back. “Good morning, Dwenn,” You said as he stood up. “Alright, I suppose you will be my little helper for the week?” He looked down on Aelon. “Yes, so tell me what to do, and I will do it,” Aelon said, making him laugh.

“Good. I was surprised when I heard you and your friends visited the forest and got chased by a warg. Are you alright?” Dwenn asked. “I’m alright. It was frightening and the warg bit me on the leg, but I survived,” Aelon explained. “Good to hear. It was good your sister was around, or that warg would have done something even worse. They’re known to be vicious for a reason. It’s because of them my leg is a piece of wood now,” Dwenn patted his leg, which was attached to a round-shaped wooden pegleg.

“Don’t misbehave in the future. You don’t want to end up like me now, do ya?” Dwenn laughed and walked inside. “I give you a moment to say farewell. When you’re ready, you can come in, and we’ll get started for the day,” Dwenn waved his hand and disappeared inside his shop.

You looked at Aelon as he looked back at you. “You think you can handle yourself?” You smiled at him. “I will be fine.” he smiled back at you. “You most likely end up doing some cleaning, so don’t think hard about it. It might help you grow some muscles,” You teased him a little, making him roll his eyes.

“Are you sure you will be fine with your arm?” he asked. “What if you end up in an accident?” he added. You chuckled. “I will be fine and besides, it’s just a little elven city I’m going to visit. They’re said to be the safest places on earth,” you patted his shoulder. “Some people say elves are dangerous,” he said. “They’re afraid. Elves are known to be formidable warriors, especially the Noldor,” you said. “But they’re only dangerous if you give them a reason to be dangerous,” you smiled comfortably.

“And I don’t think a couple of jam jars will make me dangerous enough for them,” you said, making him giggle.

“Commander (Name) of jam jars,” he said, making you snort.

“Take care of yourself.” you pulled him into a short hug. “And don’t visit any forest during my absence. Can’t make the same mistake twice,” you stated. Aelon groaned in annoyance.

You smiled at him. You ruffled his blond hair before making your way toward Helena and her brother, who were waiting for you at a wagon that was prepared to leave. Aelon watched as you climbed on the wagon and motioned the driver to snap the reins and make the wagon move. The horses whined and Aelon gave you a little wave as you began to leave the village. You waved back till you were out of his sight.

Aelon sighed and then walked inside Dwenn’s workshop.

Aelon was met with a fresh scent of bark and wood. He rubbed his nose and looked around the workshop, seeing wooden planks stacked on the corners and tools hanging from the walls. The floors were covered in wooden powder, and newly made wooden toys stood on the table.

Aelon looked at the toys curiously. There were wooden human-like figures, bears, horses, and even giant eagles. He smiled and stared at the wooden eagles with fascination.

He guessed they were modeled after the great eagles of Manwe. He always wanted to see one. They were protectors of the sky and apparently almost as big as Baleria. The mere thought of it could make him jump in excitement.

“Alright, enough looking around. How about you start with the floors and later clean up the tables so we may start with a couple of orders?” Dwenn broke him out of his thoughts, handing him a broom. “Oh, right. Sorry,” Aelon took the broom. Dwenn chuckled.

“You know, it’s kinda funny how I got both of you little Targs to work for an old geezer like me. At this rate, I might as well leave the shop into your hands when I die,” he waved his hand with a smile.

“Don’t say that. You still have many years left,” Aelon stated while brooming the floor. “That’s very sweet of you, boy, but I’m afraid with health like mine. My time can be just around the corner,” Dwenn said.

Aelon thought to himself while brushing the yellow powder from the floor. “Say…Dwenn. How long has my sister worked for you?” he looked at the older man, leaning against the broom with a curious look.

“Well – ever since you first came to the village,” Dwenn answered. “You might not remember because you were just a babe back then, and your sister used to act quite differently too,” he said.

“What do you mean she used to act differently?” Aelon asked in confusion.

“Your sister… she used to be the quiet type. Rarely talked with anyone,” Dwenn started while taking out some tools. “She was a bit lost when she first arrived in our village with you in her arms. She didn’t know how to care for you, so we thought she was your mother at first, but she later cleared out you were siblings – orphans from a faraway land,” he explained.

“Eweniel’s folks then took her in when they noticed she was struggling and taught her how to care for you,” Dwenn chuckled.

“She then came to me, interested in work. I was quite surprised since my craft is not well known around these parts. I was certain she would either want to work as a hunter or become part of the watchmen, but no, she wanted to work for me,” he smiled and then leaned down on Aelon. “But do you want to know what I think? I think our good old Ennard was the reason she did not want to work on any of those things. He was way too loud and gross for her taste,“ he grinned, making Aelon giggle at the thought.

Dwenn sighed. “After some time, though, your sister managed to get the hang of it and became more expressive,” he said. “Looking back at it, I say she has improved a lot. I’m glad because it felt like I was talking to a doll back then,” he grinned.

“Wow. I can’t imagine her, out of all people showing no emotions. She has always been open and friendly to me,” Aelon said, making the older man laugh. “People can change over time. I’m happy she learned to be more open, especially when raising such a lovely little boy like you,” Dwenn smiled, ruffling his hair. “Stop,” Aelon whined with a flush on his face.

“Now, enough of the past. Let us get to work,” Dwenn stated. “Right,” Aelon began swooping the broom.

“Hmm – now I think about it. I am somewhat curious about that one sword she used to carry around. What did she call it again –” Dwenn turned to look at Aelon. The little boy thought for a moment before realizing it. “Oh, she calls it the Night’s Whisperer. I think she’s keeping it safe under the cupboards,” Aelon said. “Ooh– the Night’s Whisperer. That’s a spooky name for a sword, but I have heard worse,” Dwenn shrugged his shoulders and then went to work.

Aelon held the broom and thought for a moment. You never told him how you used to act in the past. You have told him how you used to command armies and do things in the name of your house. You had seen and fought many bad people, so you most likely needed tight control over your emotions.

You did mention you had seen and experienced things you rather forget, so maybe that’s one of the reasons you hid the Night’s Whisperer, the heirloom of your family.

Aelon stopped thinking and continued cleaning the floors. You always had a good reason for something, so he shouldn’t question you.

Aelon was calmly cleaning the floor, humming a song in his head. He stopped when he suddenly heard something. He listened quietly and his ears picked up faint mellow sounds of what seemed to be a flute. He felt confused as he listened. Was that music?

The sounds became louder till it was a full melody playing inside his mind. Aelon felt his skin fall cold as he couldn't hear the song anywhere but within his head. He looked at Dwenn, who seemed oblivious to the music of the flute.

“Dwenn, can you hear that?” Aelon grabbed onto him. “Hmm?” Dwenn turned around, looking at him. The playing of the flute stopped.

The two stood in silence. “I cannot hear anything,” Dwenn stated.

“There… there was this song played by a flute,” Aelon tried to explain. “I heard it and now –” he fell speechless. Aelon couldn't find the words to describe what happened.

“A flute? I didn’t hear anything. Are you certain the warg did not manage to do any further damage to you?” Dwenn questioned. “Uhm – never mind,” Aelon shook his head. “Alright,” Dwenn returned to working on his latest project.

Aelon looked around while trying to clean the rest of the floor. His skin still had goosebumps, and there was something ominous about the music he heard. What was it and why couldn’t Dwenn hear it?

Aelon shook his head and tried to ignore the dreadful feeling that crept up to him like a spider. Why do strange things start happening when you’re away?

After spending the whole day working in Dwenn's workshop, Aelon bid him goodnight and went to Helena's house, where he spent dinner with her parents, and they tucked him to sleep.

Aelon lay on the bed, staring at the night sky through the window. The stars were shining so brightly. He always liked watching them with you. He even once dreamed he could one day fly among the stars, but sadly that was not possible since they were so far away.

He thought about the song. He couldn't explain why, but there was this dreadful feeling whenever he thought about it like it meant something terrible.

He shook his head and laid down on the pillow, closing his eyes. Maybe the warg scared him so much that he was imagining things.

Aelon took deep breaths, keeping his eyes closed. His mind soon fell into a deep slumber.

He was startled awake when crows and ravens cawed and flew above the trees.

He felt goosebumps all over his skin when he realized he was back in the forbidden forest. It was gloomy and mist rose from the ground, surrounding the little boy in thick white fog.

Aelon gasped when he heard the flute’s music. The flute echoed through the air, silencing every thought from his mind. He tried to ignore it, but it only made him feel dizzy. His mind then became compliant, and he began walking toward the direction of the song.

The flute’s song became louder and clearer with every step he took. Aelon then found himself standing in an opening.

He snapped himself out of the trance and looked around for the source of the music. His heart began to race when he saw a tall shadowy figure sitting on a rock, playing a silver flute.

The shadowy being stopped playing when it noticed him. It stared at him before slowly standing up, towering over him like an ominous tree. Aelon’s heart began pounding against his ears as he stared with fear in his eyes. The being was covered in animal skins, and two deer-like horns sprouted from its head.

Aelon screamed when the dark figure suddenly appeared before him, forcing him to look at its warg-like face and pearly white eyes.

Aelon gasped, jolting from his bed. He was frantically breathing until he noticed he was in his room and calmed down. He took a relieved breath. It was just a nightmare.

He glanced through the window and saw the sun barely rising in the distance, coloring the sky in a mix of orange and blue. His mind returned to the nightmare and the horrible creature playing the silver flute.

Questions filled his mind.

Why did that creature have the warg's head? Why does he keep hearing this music? Why did he come back to the forbidden forest?

He couldn't make any sense of them. He could have asked you since you usually had the answer for everything, but he couldn't because you were away and he was alone.

Aelon shook his head in dismissal. He laid back down on the bed and tried to forget the nightmare in favor of trying to get some more sleep before sunrise.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn @kimnamnu @thatrandomidiot182

#silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #middle earth x reader #middle earth #silm fic #tolkien #silmarillion imagines #when the dragons fly #various x reader #targaryen reader #hotd x reader #hotd

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taeswolfie · 2 months

Text

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚

☽︎𝑹𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈☾︎

Ch.19 - Ch.21

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Y/n sits in the chair besides Stiles in his dad's office. She had been invited by the Stilinski's to have dinner and, even if she wanted to, she couldn't say no to Stiles' big brown eyes. Noah takes a bite of his burger only to be disappointed by its contents. "Oh, what the hell is this?"

"Veggie burger." Stiles says.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger."

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy." He shows off his salad then glances at Y/n. "Well, most of us." The girl looks up at that, a french fry hanging halfway out her lips before she munches it.

Noah then lifts the paper lid on his other container that holds celery and carrot sticks. "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please?"

"Tell you what, Sheriff." Y/n leans forward. "I will trade you five fries for a celery and two carrot sticks, and you stop complaining and eat your food. Deal?" She raises a brow at him. Noah thinks about it for a second then nods.

"Fair enough." Once the trading of items is finished Stiles speaks up again.

"Tell us what you found."

"No, I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers."

Stiles looks at the board behind his dad. "Is that it on the board behind you?"

Noah glances at it while Stiles cranes his neck to see it better. "Don't look at that."

"A'ight." He sits down again but moves right back to looking.

"Avert your eyes."

"Okay."

"Hey!"

"Just- it's just- I see- arrows pointing at pictures."

"Okay, okay, stop. Fine." The teens perk up a bit. "I found something. Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three?" Y/n asks.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident."

"Two's a coincidence." Y/n had been around them long enough to know this phrase.

"Three's a pattern." Stiles finishes.

"The mechanic, the husband, the wife- all the same age. All 24."

"Wait a minute, but what about Mr. Lahey? I mean, Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near 24."

"Which made me think that either A) Lahey's murder wasn't connected or B) the ages were a coincidence, until I found this, which would be C." He hands Stiles a folder and Y/n leans to look over his arm as he looks at it. "Did you know that Isaac Lahey had an older brother named Camden?"

"'Died in combat'." Y/n read from the file.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"24." Stiles says. All three get up to look at the board closer. "Now what if same age means same class- I mean, did you think of that?"

"Yeah, yeah." Noah nods.

"You sure?" Y/n asks teasingly and he hesitates.

"Well, I would've. I mean, I- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago."

Stiles looks at him in shock. "Two hours? Dad, people could be dying."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that. Thank you."

They look at the board again. "Same class." The Stilinski's look at each other and suddenly Y/n is dragged over to the desk where Noah puts some books and files down. They look through files and Stiles picks up a blue folder. "Okay, this is it. Class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including Isaac's brother."

"All right, but so what if they all knew each other, you know?"

"Two of them were married." Y/n agrees.

"Maybe they all just hung out."

"Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've..." Noah trails off when he sees something.

"What?"

"Same teacher." He moves a paper around for them to see that it shows Mr. Harris.

"Harris." Y/n grimaces. She really doesn't like the guy.

"They were all in his class?" Stiles asked.

"All four. And I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. All right, give me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces." He starts calling someone as Y/n grabs the book.

"Which ones?" She asks.

"Everyone in that Chemistry class. If the killer's not done killing..."

"Then one of them's next." Stiles says.

"Yeah." Then he gets an answer on the phone. "Yeah, it's Stilinski." After a bit of her and Stiles finding the people in Harris' class she got a message from Scott saying he needed her at the clinic.

"I gotta go." She said once she looked at it. "I gotta help at the clinic for a bit tonight."

"That's fine. Thanks for the help, Y/n."

"No problem." She smiles at the Sheriff and then turns to Stiles. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

He nods. "Yeah."

"Great detective work, guys." She gathered her things and then gave Stiles a quick kiss. "Love ya!" She called as she dashed out the door.

Stiles looked after her wide-eyed for a moment with a little love sick smile before he looked back at his dad who was smirking at him. He realized that his dad just saw and heard that and he busied himself with the files again. "Shut up." But he still had a smile on his face.

...

Y/n got to the clinic just as Scott left the room to open the front door for someone. "Hey." She greeted Alan. "Meeting with Derek Hale?" He nodded. "This should be fun."

"What's he doing here?" She heard Scott ask.

"I need him." Derek answered.

"I don't trust him."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either." Isaac's voice said then.

"You know what? And Derek really doesn't care. Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?"

"That depends." Alan leans on the doorjamb with Y/n next to him. She nods her head in greeting to the newcomers. "Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?" Derek said 'kill him' at the same time Scott and Y/n said 'save him'.

"Save him." Scott enunciates at Derek before looking back at Alan. "Save him." They all go into the back room and stand around the metal table, Y/n and Alan on one side, the werewolves on the other. Y/n places a tray of glass bottles filled with various things on the table.

Isaac goes to grab a bottle to look at it when Derek grabs his wrist and yanked it back. "Watch what you touch." He warns. While Alan looks through the bottles to find something hopefully useful Isaac leans his arms on the table.

"So what are you? Some kind of witch?" He asks Alan.

Y/n smirks at him. "That would be me." She flashes her eyes at him and he raises his brows a bit in surprise. "He's a veterinarian." She nods her head at Alan.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin." Alan puts down a bottle.

"We're open to suggestions." Derek says.

"What about an effective offence?" Isaac offers.

"No, we already tried. I nearly took it's head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

"Has it shown any weaknesses?" Alan asked.

"Well, one. It can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No. He's the captain of the swim team." Scott says.

"Essentially, you're trying to catch two people." He opens a drawer and grabs an item, closing the drawer and turning back to the group. "A puppet." He holds up a pendant depicting the horned god Cernunnos. "And a puppeteer." He puts the pendant on the table. "One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?"

"I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules? The kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too." Isaac theorises.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer?"

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was."

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Alan asks Y/n and she nods. "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him?"

Y/n let's out a small 'ah' as she catches on. "So what if something that affects the kanima also affects its master?" She grabs the bottle of mountain ash, dumping a bit in her hand, and pours it over the pendant making the ash form a perfect circle around it. Alan smiles at her.

"Meaning what?" Isaac asks.

"Meaning we can catch them." Scott answers. "Both of them."

...

Stiles pulls into the school parking lot and parks near where Matt is locking up his bike. "There's gotta be some other way to get a ticket, right?" Scott says as he, Stiles and Y/n climb out of the Jeep.

"It's a secret show. There's only one way, and it's a secret." Stiles says.

"Hey." Matt suddenly calls and the three turn to look at him. "Any of you know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt."

"I- I had a concussion."

"Well, nobody got seriously hurt."

"I was in the ER for six hours."

"Hey, do you wanna know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles bends down and holds his hand an inch above the ground.

"Okay, settle down, tiger." Y/n makes him stand up straight and holds his hand, the action seeming to calm him a bit.

"Are you okay?" Scott asks Matt.

"Yeah, I'm fine now. So you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they still selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." Matt walks away.

"I don't like him." Stiles says.

"Me either." Y/n makes a face towards Matt's direction.

"Hey, are you sure about this?" He asks Scott.

"Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job, so what do you think he's gonna do this time?"

"Be there to make sure it happens." The three walk into school.

...

"Katamine?" Scott questions. Alan holds a vial of the drug up for the teens to see.

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage." He explains and sets the bottle and a large syringe on the table. "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time." He grabs the bottle of mountain ash. "This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier. This part is for you and Y/n, Stiles." He sets the bottle down. "Only you two."

"Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure." Stiles picks up the bottle. "Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?"

"You'll be fine, Stiles." Y/n assures and plucks the bottle from his fingers. "This is from the mountain ash tree."

"Which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." Alan adds. "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble."

"How come Y/n is able to use it then if she's also supernatural?" Stiles asks curiously.

"Witches are like the bridge between the natural and supernatural world." She explains. "We're supernatural enough to not be human, but human enough to not be affected by certain things."

"Okay, so then what? We just spread this around the whole building and then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped." Alan nods.

"Doesn't sound too hard." Scott tries to assure Stiles.

"Not all there is. Think of it like gunpowder. It's just a powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that. And why aren't you saying this to her?"

"Because I already know how to use it."

"Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

"Force of will." Stiles nods, yet he still seems unsure.

"Here's another example." Y/n offers. "It's kinda like pixie dust, you need to believe it will work or else it won't."

"If-" Alan moves his head a bit to make sure Stiles is looking at him. "If this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it."

…

That night Stiles pulls up outside the secret party after picking up Scott and Y/n. They all go to the back and Stiles opens it up. "You okay?" Scott suddenly asks Stiles as he grabs a bag of mountain ash.

"Yeah, why?"

"You just didn't say anything the whole way here."

"No, I'm fine." Y/n could tell that was a lie. Something was bothering him, she could feel it. Something at home. She had been waiting for them to be alone to say anything about it. "Grab the other bag, please." Stiles asks her which she complies.

Scott suddenly takes a few steps away as he hears something. "Not here, not now." He says just before he rushes away.

"What- Scott?" Stiles called after him, it's to no avail.

"Let him go. We'll be fine." Y/n gives him a reasurring smile. He goes to start pouring the ash before she stops him. "Hey." He gave her a questioning look. "What happened earlier?"

"I don't know what-"

"Stiles." She sighed. "I know when you're lying. It's not just the upticks in your heart either, I just... I just know, okay? So, please, don't lie to me."

He sighed and looked away. He was so quiet she thought he wouldn't speak until he did. "My dad was fired." He finally said, although it was a near whisper. "And it's my fault."

She lightly shook her head and hugged him, he practically wrapped himself around her for comfort as the bags were left momentarily forgotten by their feet. "It wasn't your fault." She spoke just as quietly. She pulled away and made him look at her by putting a hand on his cheek. "It wasn't, okay?" At her insistence he nodded a bit. "It'll be okay. I promise." When he managed a small smile she gave him a soft kiss, nothing rushed or heated, but slow and promising she'll be there for him.

When they pulled away his smile was more genuine. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She suddenly grinned as she stepped away from him. "Now, let's catch some baddies." She hauled up the bag of ash and took his hand. "Come on." He grabbed his own bag and she led them to the other side of the building. "I'll go this way, you go that way and we meet in the middle."

He nods with a deep breath. "Sounds like a plan." And then they start pouring the ash, going opposite ways to meet back around at the Jeep. It took a bit but not as long as it would have with just one of them pouring it. Y/n got back around before Stiles had. She figured he was going fast but slowish to make sure he poured it well enough. Y/n caught the last handful of ash in her hand and tossed it forward, finishing her last twenty feet of her half.

She was leaning against the Jeep, waiting for Stiles and keeping an eye out for whoever was creating that gunfire. She had a feeling it was Hunters, but the wolves seemed to be holding their own for now. She heard shuffling and turned to find Stiles as he caught his last handful of ash. "Oh, no." He whined. "What are we gonna do?" He immediatly started going into panic mode. "Y/n, I don't know what to do. There's like 50 feet of ash left and I'm hearing gunfire and werewolves-"

"Stiles, calm down. It's okay."

"How is this okay, Y/n? I've got a handful of magic fairy dust left and it's not enough. It's not enough."

"Stiles!" She snapped once she was in front of him. "It's enough. You have to believe." She spoke more softly. "Remember what Alan said? Just picture it. Believe and picture it working."

"I don't know-"

"Believe in me." She took his hands in hers, carefully curling her hand over the one holding the ash while intertwining the other. "If you can't fully believe in this, then believe in me. I know it will work. Trust me. Picture it." His eyes darted over her shoulder to a bumper sticker with a quote. Imagination is more important than knowledge - Einstein. He looked into her eyes, shining with determination and faith. He trusted her with anything and he believed in her unconditionally. If she believed that the ash was enough, then it was enough.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. Just- just imagine." She nodded and took a step back, taking more when he followed. He kept his focus on her eyes, not paying attention to the slow trickle of mountain ash slipping though their fingers until their hands were open and empty. He looked down, half expecting the line to still be incomplete. When he saw it was indeed intact he laughed in excitement. "Yes!" He threw his hands up while Y/n smiled at him. He suddenly jumped onto the back of a car only to hop right back off when the alarm started going off.

Y/n rolled her eyes with a head shake. Her eyes flashed and she snapped her fingers, the car stopped blaring and Stiles continued his happy dance. "Told you."

"You are amazing." He quickly kissed her, making her eyes widen in surpise while he cheered some more.

She shook her head fondly with a smile before grabbing his hand. "Okay, that's enough celebrating. We still have someone to deal with." They made their way to the small area where they agreed to take Jackson when they got him.

Erica and Isaac anxiously watched over Jackson when the door opened. Stiles immediatly putting his hands up when Erica almost lunged at him. "No, no, no! Just us, it's just us." Y/n closed the door behind her and then looked at Jackson. He was seemingly passed out, slumped in a fold out chair.

"Is he okay?" Y/n asked.

"Well..." Isaac went over to him. "Let's find out." He pulled out his claws and went to swipe at Jackson.

"Isaac, wait-" Y/n tried to warn, when suddenly his arm was caught. He grunted in pain and fell to his knee when Jackson's grip was too strong. He managed to pull his arm free and retreat back to the group.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay?" Stiles ordered. Erica nodded while Isaac was still in pain.

"Give me your arm." Y/n held her hand out expectantly. Isaac looked up at her warily. When she gave him a look to urge him forward he hesitantly held his arm out for her. She gently held his hand and carefully held the other over where he was injured, her eyes glowing as she encouraged his healing and healed a bit of it herself so he was in less pain.

"Thanks." He said when she let him go.

"No problem."

"I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're going to get." Stiles said. "So let's just hope that whoever's controling him decided to show up tonight."

Jackson's eyes opened. He didn't look at any of them, just stared into space. "I'm here." He spoke although it wasn't his voice. It was distorted and sounded like more than one person was speaking. "I'm right here with you."

Y/n took a step forward, but Stiles grabbed her wrist and gave her a worried look. She nodded in reasurance and he let her go. She crouched down in front of Jackson, keeping a safe distance. "Jackson, is that you?"

"Us. We're all here."

She quirked a brow, glancing at the three behind her. "Are you the one killing people?"

"We're the ones killing murderers."

"So all the people you've killed so far-"

"Deserved it."

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure's applied."

"That can lead to unforseen consequences most often than not. Are all the people you're killing murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Who did they murder?"

"Me."

"What?"

"They murdered me." Erica and Isaac got anxious as Jackson's eyes shifted to his kanima ones. "They murdered me."

"Y/n, get back here." Stiles asked when Jackson's claws came out. She stood and backed up to him. "Okay, all right. More ketamine. The man needs ketamine. Come on!"

"We don't have any more." Isaac held up the empty bottle.

"You used it all?" Y/n asked incredulously. Erica anxiously tapped Y/n's arm and they looked over to see Jackson standing up. Y/n would have tried compelling him back to sleep if someone else hadn't already had control of his mind right then. Jackson screeched at them, half shifted. "Okay, out, out! Everybody out!"

The four rushed out of the room and piled against the door to hold it closed. "Okay, find something to move in front of the door." Stiles instructed. Another screech rang out and a second later the fully shifted kanima broke through the wall and ran away.

"Well, shit."

Stiles and Y/n go back out to the Jeep in the flow of people leaving the party. They step over the line as Derek comes up to them. "Hey, um, so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-" Stiles cuts himself off when Erica and Isaac come out, but they pause when they sense something. Isaac crouches down to look at the ash line, glancing up at Erica. The two look nervous and confused because they can't cross. They haven't experienced mountain ash before. "Oh, my God. It's working! Oh, this is- we did something." He brags to Derek.

Y/n's eyes widen when she and Derek hear Scott's sudden roar. "Scott." She takes off and Stiles looks after her confused.

"What? Where are you-"

"Break it." Derek orders quickly.

"What? No way."

"Scott's dying!"

"Okay, what? How do you know that? Is that why Y/n-"

"Yes! We just know! Break it!"

Stiles drops to his knees and waves his hands down, creating a rush of air that dispersed the ash and broke the line. Derek rushed after Y/n as soon as he could. He caught up to her just as she went into a room. She spotted Scott on the ground as soon as she went in and darted to his side, dropping to her knees beside him. Derek was on her tail but paused just behind her, the wolfsbane in the air having an effect on him. Victoria came from the shadows and stabbed Derek in the back. He groans in pain and turns around, catching her arm before she could stab him again.

Y/n looked up in fear and without thinking she threw her hand up, her eyes flashing as she forced the knife from the woman's hands. Victoria stumbled from the sudden action. She recovered as Derek went for her. They struggled and ended up by the doors where the strobing lights filtered in. Derek growled and bit her in defense before she managed to toss him aside. She ran before he got up. When he saw the Hunter was gone he quickly went to help Y/n carry Scott out of that room.

…

Scott was layed out on the metal table in the backroom of the clinic. Alan had just finished helping the werewolves with Y/n's assistance. Derek sat in a chair against the wall, watching them. Alan lightly petted Scott's head in reasurance. The teen would be fine. "Thank you." Derek said. Y/n looked up at him and smiled.

Alan walked out into the front of the clinic, turning at the sound of a familiar voice. "I can't decide if l admire your sentimentality or despise it." Ms. Marin Morell sat in one of the waiting chairs and looked at him.

"If I want your opinion, I'll make an appointment with the guidance office."

"From the state of things, I think you could use a little guidance. Are you really going to leave all of this up to a couple of kids?"

"They're more capable than you think."

She looked away in thought. "And are you going to tell them what's coming?"

He glanced towards the back room. "They've got enough to worry about."

Y/n sits against the wall of the clinic, resting a bit as she watches over Scott, Derek seemingly doing the same as he rests his head against the wall with his eyes closed. She closes her eyes and copies Derek's position, trying to get some type of rest. It doesn't seem like she'll get it, however. She knows he's there without even opening her eyes.

Peter sits against the wall next to her. "You know, you could do so much more. If you practiced a bit of blood magic you'd be so much more confident in your abilities. You'd be a force to be reckoned with."

"I'm not ready." She muttered.

"You keep saying that, but are you really not ready? Or are you just too scared to try?"

She snapped her head to the side, brows furrowing as she looked towards him, he was already gone. She couldn't help but think of what he said.

Was she scared to try?

Ch.21

4 notes · View notes

peachy-panic · 2 years

Text

Day Two

BACK TO THE REGULARLY SCHEDULED CLINIC ARC. Sorry (Not Sorry) for the brief very dark interlude.

Continues from here.

WARNINGS: Discussions of addiction/forced drugging, BBU/BBU-adjacent and all that comes with that, issues with food

Jaime is noticeably distant the next morning. From the moment he is brought into the clinic, he has taken to his tasks in complete silence, the walls behind his averted eyes slammed shut.

So, maybe Sebastian isn’t the only one who’s been thinking about Smith’s little revelation at the end of yesterday’s shift.

Sebastian goes through about twenty different—increasingly disastrous—iterations of a conversation in his head as the morning goes on, trying to determine if bringing it up again will clear the air between them or only serve to push Jaime further into his… embarrassment or shame or whatever it is that has made him retreat.

Or maybe Jaime’s mood has nothing to do with him at all. Maybe Sebastian isn’t the center of the fucking universe, and maybe, just maybe, there are bigger fish to fry when your whole entire world is condensed to the confines of this god-awful place.

So he tries to ignore it for a little while. Give him some space.

And then he can’t do that anymore.

He carves out an extra fifteen minutes before his usual lunch break to drive to a nearby deli. He picks up two turkey sandwiches and a cup of fruit, then has a mini-crisis over a bottle of soda, picking it up and putting it back down three separate times before deciding against it. He’s already pushing the boundaries of Jaime’s strict “nutrition” regimen, and while he frankly couldn’t give a flying fuck about their fucked up rules, he has no desire to hurt Jaime’s stomach with a sudden influx of sugar that his body isn’t used to.

Bag in hand, he speeds back to the facility and into the clinic, bravely taking a deep breath before approaching his own office. “Hey.” He raps lightly on the doorframe, startling Jaime from his work. He meets his eyes for half a second before dropping down to his chin. Sebastian bites his cheek. “Break for lunch?” he asks.

“Oh.” He sees Jaime’s eyes flit quickly to the clock and back. “I can work while I eat,” he offers. “I don’t mind.”

“Well,” Sebastian says, keeping his voice light, “I was thinking maybe we could have lunch… together? If that’s alright with you?” He knows he can’t realistically expect anything other than affirmation, but he can’t stop himself from asking anyway. “I was actually hoping we could, um. That we could talk?”

It’s quickly concealed, but not before Sebastian spots it: the tiny flash of panic in his eyes. Then Jaime nods, pushing back slightly from the desk. “Of course. Would you like me to go to the cafeteria now and bring it back? I’ll…” He pauses, looking suddenly embarrassed. “I’ll need a handler to escort me.”

“About that.” Sebastian smiles a bit ruefully, giving the paper bag in his hand a little shake. “Lunch is on me today.”

Jaime’s gaze drops to the bag as if he has just noticed it. He swallows hard enough that Sebastian can track the movement in his throat all the way down. His hands fidget in his lap before he seems to remember himself and presses them flat against his thighs. “I’m sorry,” Jaime says. “I’m… Thank you. But. I’m— I’m not supposed to have outside food unless my primary signs off on it.”

Sebastian can’t help but grimace at the reference to fucking Smith and the reminder of the small, twisted plays of power he holds over those in his control. He lends a brief moment to acknowledge just how awful it must be to have him, specifically, as a primary handler. Then scrambles to push the thought away when his chest feels like it might cave in.

“It’s healthy,” Sebastian tries. “Or, you know, relatively I guess. It’s not dripping in grease or out of a microwave or anything. And there are some vegetables involved. And fruit. As a doctor, I can confirm these are inarguably Good Things.”

His only response is an uncertain shift of Jaime’s weight in the chair. Sebastian’s forced cheer sags just a bit. He breathes out. “Alright,” he says, shifting gears. “How about this: I’ll call someone to escort you to the cafeteria, you can bring your barely-edible tray of food back here, and then if we just so happen to be eating lunch in the same vicinity, and I just so happen to have ordered an extra sandwich that I can’t eat… Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right?”

The hesitation isn’t quite dissipated from Jaime’s eyes, and Sebastian feels a sinking regret. Some hindsight-clarity telling him that his actions, well intended as they may be, might only serve to make Jaime more miserable in the end. Maybe eating a bland lunch is actually a lesser evil than this mental torment being presented to him as a favor.

But then, Jaime nods. “Okay.”

In the end, Sebastian calls for Julian specifically, texting him on his personal number instead of paging the handler server for an escort. They may not be the best of friends, but Sebastian would rather it be him than deliver Jaime into the hands of someone who might use this lunch trip as an excuse to hurt him.

“Tate.” He nods curtly when he enters, then turns his attention to Jaime. “Let’s go,” he says. Sebastian doesn’t think he’s imagining the softness that slips into the command. He also doesn’t miss the careful way his hand cups behind Jaime’s elbow, instead of the usual manner of grabbing and shoving.

Jaime returns a few minutes later clutching a tray between his hands. Julian turns and leaves before Sebastian can mutter a ‘thank you.’ “Back to the office?” Sebastian suggests. Not like they’re swimming in options. Once again, Jaime nods.

They settle into the small space, which feels even smaller with the two of them crammed around the desk. Sebastian is met with only a brief moment of hesitation when he insists Jaime take the comfortable chair. They end up in a backward image of the first time they sat here together, just yesterday. It’s a strange reversal of the power dynamic that exists between them in every other aspect of life: Jaime behind the desk and Sebastian slumped on hard plastic across from it. The thought makes him smile, but then he wonders if Jaime notices the strangeness too. If it makes him uncomfortable.

Best not to dwell on it. They have enough to unpack over deli sandwiches and shitty chicken today.

“Listen,” Sebastian begins softly after he has swallowed his first bite. “I want to just… get it out there. About yesterday. All that shit that Smith said about your history…” If there was ever a right way to approach this, he has definitely missed the mark. Jaime’s shoulders draw up to his ears, a light flush spreading across his cheekbones. Sebastian presses forward. “Everybody has a past, okay? I’m certainly not here to judge yours.”

Jaime’s fork breaks the surface of the mound of white rice. He doesn’t take a bite, and he doesn’t look at him.

Sebastian tries again. “It doesn’t change anything, you know. Not… I mean, just in the sense that I still want you here. If you want to be,” he adds quickly. “I understand that maybe you didn’t feel comfortable telling me about your background with… with drugs, or maybe you weren’t allowed to. Either way, I don’t want to put you in harm’s way. Ever. That includes putting you in a position that could make you potentially”—he winces—“you know. Relapse.”

Jaime is quiet for a long time. A few times, Sebastian catches a twitch in his mouth, like he starts to say something then shuts it down. Finally, he forces a heartbreaking imitation of a smile into his expression and meets Sebastian’s gaze. “Your concern is very generous, Dr. Tate. Thank you. But”—he stops again, watching Sebastian carefully, like even the mildest contradiction will get him in trouble—“I don’t believe I’m at risk of relapse in here.”

As much as Sebastian is tempted to take him at his word and leave it there, he hears himself say, “Oh?”

The narrow shoulders across from him tense, the fork clinking against the side of his bowl as he sets it down. Jaime’s voice drops into the robotic delivery Sebastian’s heard before. “The rehabilitation program here has put me on a really good path.”

Uh-huhhhh.

Desperate for something to fill the chasm of silence that follows that line of absolute bullshit, Sebastian rips another bite out of his sandwich, chewing a little more aggressively than what is probably attractive. He follows it up with a long swig of water, wishing it was… god, anything stronger than that. “That’s…” He struggles for an appropriate response. “Well, that’s good. Obviously. But— you know it would be okay if you were not okay, right? I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but addiction is… well, it’s a disease and—”

He stops short, freezing mid-word when Jaime’s mouth opens. It closes a second later, jaw working, but it’s something about the way it’s accompanied by his hands on the table, closing into two tight fists. Frustration. Almost… anger.

Sebastian glances quickly toward the door, making sure it’s sealed before he continues. Even then, he keeps his voice low. “Jaime,” he says. The use of his name, as always, is enough to summon his eyes to his. This time, they’re filled with a shallow glimmer of moisture. “What is it? What were you going to say?”

Slowly, Jaime’s palms unfurl against the desk. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and lets it fall out of him carefully. After a couple of blinks, the tears are gone. “Nothing,” he says, visibly shutting himself down. “I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

No. Fuck. He can’t… Sebastian was so close to getting him to let his guard down for just a second, and he feels himself scrambling as Jaime’s walls begin to shutter again.

“Please,” he whispers, suddenly desperate for even a piece of this boy’s truth. His trust, even if he has done little to deserve it. “You can talk here. You can tell me whatever. I’m listening.”

The quiet bleeds into long minutes, but Sebastian can’t bring himself to break it this time. It’s a fragile thing suspended between them now, and he fears that even the slightest shift of pressure will shatter it to pieces.

He’s just about to concede to his refusal when Jaime clears his throat.

“Handler Smith,” he says, each syllable precise and careful on his lips, “didn’t… He wasn’t…” Jaime pushes his tray slightly away from him, crossing one arm to cover the crook of his opposite elbow. The tender, pale spot that Smith had twisted toward the light the day before to expose his secrets. Track marks. The word is still razor sharp in his memory. Jaime takes another deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “I-I’m not…”

A sudden conclusion, even without any confirmation of its merit, knocks the wind out of Sebastian. He has to reach out for the edge of the desk to steady himself in his chair. “Jaime,” he breathes, his eyes steady and intent on his. “Was Handler Smith… lying?”

All the answer he needs is in the tense silence that follows. The way Jaime’s gaze holds his, pleading with him to hear the words he can’t say out loud.

And he does. God, he does.

***

Jaime’s hands are shaking when Dr. Tate pushes the sandwich across the table toward him. He stares at it for a moment, wrapped up in some kind of white paper and filling the room with a mouthwatering, savory smell. Dr. Tate is watching him with an expression that doesn’t quite make him shrink away, but he can still feel the attention burning every inch of exposed skin. His heart is beating out of his chest with the weight of what he has just done. What he has said.

“Can.. Can we try something?” Dr. Tate says after a long moment. Jaime nods automatically and is rewarded with a slightly uneasy smile. “Can you… Okay. If what I said just now is true… can you unwrap the paper?”

A new flood of something crashes over him—some war between relief and terror and poisonous rebellion—and Jaime brings his hands to the sandwich. With trembling fingers, he pulls back the folds of paper one at a time. The rustle of paper seems to echo off the walls of the small space around them. When it’s done, he dares to meet Dr. Tate’s. The other man lets out a long breath. Then nods.

“Okay,” he says. “Yes. That’s. Okay. If…” He swallows, hesitating. “If you didn’t put those marks on your arm yourself, take a bite?” His eyes dart quickly between the sandwich and Jaime’s face, then he adds, more quietly, “If you want.”

Jaime can feel the aftershocks of his withdrawal almost as potently as if it is happening now. The cold, solid floor beneath his skin for days on end. The sheen of sweat. The viscous twist of his stomach. The pain, everywhere, worse with every breath and movement. He can still feel the icy drip of horror in his veins as his handler reads off a sheet of forged paperwork, slamming the final nail into his coffin

There are tears in his eyes again, but he does not let them fall. Instead, Jaime reaches out and fits both hands around the food that has been placed in front of him, soft, heavenly bread giving under the pressure of his fingers. He holds Dr. Tate’s eyes as he takes his first bite.

Whether it’s the luxury of flavor after so long without it, or the taste of the truth in his mouth after so many fucking lies, as Jaime chews and swallows, it feels...

It almost feels like strength.

***

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#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #bbu #like bbu adjacent?#whump #whump writing #whumplr #addiction cw #troubles with food cw

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