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#it's just me slapping a book over the head saying you deserve love and tenderness for 50k
revelisms · 2 months
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A little ramble on 'a lark sings' because a) things are rough rn and b) as much as I am continually tinkering with this thing, it has been a gradual comfort by the day (and I love these two, for all their messiness).
Alessio chose their name partly as a reclamation for a sense of self that had often felt overlooked and disempowered, and partly as a nod to their grandfather, Alessandro, who they spent much of their childhood summers with.
They'd always had an interest in the occult, but having grown up with deeply religious (and superstitious) parents—and, later, husband—it was never something they could comfortably pursue.
As a byproduct of that, they grew up in the church, and spent much of their early years ping-ponged between half-friendships with the choir children and nosy, philosophical ramblings with one of the church's deacons—who, oddly enough, peaked their interest in accounting as a day job. They remember him fondly, and miss his laugh. He was always kind to them, and gave them a quiet space to feel free in different roles ("And who am I speaking with, today? The High Wizard Felipe?")
They're a deceptively great singer, but can't dance to save their life (they rarely attempt either in public); teasing is a love language, though, and mischief is second-nature. It's what had them stumbling into Terzo's outer circle, so quickly, and why the two became genuine friends.
Speaking of—they met the then-Cardinal a bit delayed into their entrance to the Ministry (after a funeral, a nasty divorce, and a long-overdue exploration of their relationship to their identity and body). They'd heard of him, certainly—with nothing short of a exasperated edge by Papa Secondo, who at the time had been their boss's boss—but had their first conversation after quite literally tripping over him and a stray brother of sin flirting up a storm in the hallway.
(Terzo had, politely, told them to get lost; they'd barked back that a hallway was a public space, and Hell forbid someone use it (to his amusement: "Why, yes—someone is using it. And unless you'd like a show, Sibling, I'd suggest you use it, as well.") Needless to say, they had...impressions of each other.)
The next morning, to their utter dismay, they'd found themself shoulder-to-shoulder with him in one of their staff meetings. He'd clocked them immediately, and droned off into his usual spiel—but for their surface-level annoyances, they'd been surprised with how kind he actually was (advice for tailors, community spaces and downtown clubs, fellow staff and siblings they could speak to about their journey in the Ministry—including, of course, himself.)
More and more run-ins found them in his airspace, until he became a regular appearance in their day-to-day. They'd often share snacks, work gossip and snarky jokes, and eventually became a notorious duo for staging absolute mayhem across the halls (at, naturally, Terzo's instigation).
Ale started to see more beneath the grandeur of his persona, over the years, and came to realize he was a deeply insecure, guarded and sensitive person, who just wanted to help people; to leave them feeling confident in themselves and loved. It was a mirror reflection to themself they hadn't expected—and one they increasingly found themselves drawn to, out of that shared understanding. He intrinsically sees so much of them, in ways they didn't know they needed to be seen.
Cue mega-denial, on both sides—Ale had closed the door to potential romances for years, focusing instead fully and neededly on themself for a time, and hadn't dared to think they may want something with him; Terzo, meanwhile, had gone through too much heartbreak and surveillance at the hands of the church to consider pursuing anything serious again (not since Omega, which was an utter disaster on the clergy side), and is deeply worried of tarnishing the ease of their relationship by nature of being him, as he views the underbelly of himself, in all its unguarded ugliness.
(What he doesn't realize, or initially allow himself to accept, is that Ale is equally flawed, spiteful, at times irrational, and quick to anger—but they see that in him, and sympathize with it, and are willing to help him through it, as they needed at earlier stages of their life. The issue there is just his willingness to let them in—which he is, in many ways, and for many reasons, terrified of.)
Despite that, most of the clergy (and his brothers—Copia, in particular) are waiting for the pin to drop, because these two are insufferable. I'm talking blatantly flirty jokes, ear-to-ear grins, snickering at the stupidest things, absolute goo-goo eyed soft-smiled adoration with each other, and they put a slice of balance the table neither of them have truly had.
(In its most abridged version—Terzo is the sunlight to Ale's gloom and the supernova to their passion, as much as they are a tether to his reckless nature and a grounding force to his inner anxiety. Their bedroom chemistry is also insane, but we won't talk about that. Neither have they, because Terzo would probably combust on the spot, and Ale would have their claws in him in an instant.)
It's a long and rocky journey for both of them on uncovering how to ask for what you want, and how to feel freed by what you need, especially in the light of Terzo's elevated status and the ripple effects it has. But, despite their mutual difficulties, they both still intrinsically understand their walls: Terzo cannot be chained down, cannot be closed off to any one thing, he is ever-constant and outpouring and so fearful of being too much, but to Ale he is everything—and Ale cannot be boxed in, dreads the thought of being limited by perception, of being unwanted for all they have to give, as they are so worried they will be again, but Satan does Terzo want them, always.
The resolution will probably be sloppy and sad ("I've made you feel this way? No, no, no—you are...everything I could ask for, and more—") or ferocious and desperate ("You want to put up with the tours? With my father breathing down your neck? With this? Don't you dare say yes to that. No one in the right mind should say yes to that—"), but irregardless, it will likely come from Terzo, because it has always had to, and because it's ultimately his fear being unpacked here.
But the light of it all, the tying thread to this is that they are both two deeply wounded, still healing, and still joyful characters who are worthy of love—in all their pettiness, their hurt, their tenderness, their care—as they always have been: both from themselves, and, ultimately, from each other.
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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years
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First Lady of the Court
(Wilbur Soot X Reader) 
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    Eyes fluttering open, you came face to face with the eyes of the president of L’manburg, his dark brown eyes were full of tender affection. A smile spread across your lips at the sight and his fingers brushed your hair off your face. Your hand came up to hold his as you nuzzled your face against his palm. You watched the British boy’s face turn a bright red at the sight he let out a strangled sound. 
   “Good morning to you too Mr. President.” A giggle spilled from your lips as Wilbur pulled his hand away. 
   “Good morning my lovely first lady.” He cleared his throat, putting a hand over his mouth, “did you sleep okay?���
Stretching your arms above your head you nodded, you ruffled your (h/c) hair. 
   “Slept like a baby. How about you? Are you nervous for you and Tommy today?” You sat upon your elbows as he looked at you thoughtfully. 
   “Hm... telling you would be spoiling the fun now wouldn’t it?” Wilbur mused, giving you a cheeky smile. 
   “Boo unfair, I deserve to know I am the first lady after all.” You scoffed pouting at your lover. 
A lover is such a weird term to describe what you had with one Wilbur Soot. When L’manburg was founded and the presidency appointed to him you had agreed to take up the position of the first lady. Wilbur was ecstatic to hear you agree to the position after all, all he wanted was to ‘rule’ L’manburg by your side. To be more specific one of your duties was to love and care for the current president, be their pillar of sanity if the job became too overwhelming or stressful. Another job that fell within your duties was to keep the people happy and share their stresses with the president in hopes you could convince him to listen to the people. Luckily with Wilburs reign, there wasn’t many complaints you had to share with him, and on the rare occasion that there were any he was willing to listen and come up with a plan. All you wanted was to give the citizens of L’manburg the best life possible, and you knew Wilbur ultimately wants the same. 
Wilbur and you decided to embrace it the romantic assumptions that came with you being the first lady, solely for political reasons, that’s what he always wanted to stress. However, he always said it a bit franticly with a blush across his face and while flapping hands. You couldn’t help but snicker every time he did it, you would simply nod and say of course but those ‘political reasons’ never justified why he insisted you two sleep in the same bed. You didn’t mind, as long as it made Wilbur happy, you’ve always loved him and you had a feeling he felt the same without saying it. 
   “Yeah, I know you are. Even so you still have to find out like everyone else, plus there are always last-minute calculations that need to be taken into account. Especially since someone got bots to vote for them.” He rolled his eyes clicking his tongue in distaste. 
    “Oh we have drama, we love tea.” You teased swinging your legs over the bed and Wilbur followed your movements. 
   “You have such a way with words.”
   “Says the man who agreed with a sixteen year old to name his campaign POG2020.” 
   “It’s a good name!” Wilbur tried to defend and you just snickered in response he glared at you grabbing his L’manburg hat and placing it on his head. 
    “Yes, Wilby of course it is.” He moved back towards the bed and wrapped his arms around your waist placing his chin on your head. “Hey off, off! You’re messing up my hair!” You could practically feel Wilbur’s smile as he let out a little hum,
   “Hm no I don’t think so, after all, I don’t think I can mess up your hair more than it already is.”   
   “OKAY RUDE!” You squawked swatting at the hands around your waist already done with him today. “I’m telling you right now you keep this up and I’ll be rooting for someone else to win.” 
    “How fucking dare you.” Wilbur gasped dramatically falling back on the bed as you turned to stick your tongue out at him. 
   “You deserve it, now get dressed we have an election to get ready for you dork.” 
    “Do you need any help with that-” A pillow was thrown in his face and he laughed cheerfully, “-point taken!” You both went to your separate bathrooms to get ready for the day. You had chosen a nice black skirt that was very professional looking and went down to just under your knees. The shirt you’ve chosen was a nice (f/c) blouse with a L’manburg pin, pinned onto the front pocket. Bending over you slipped on black heels, you just wanted to try to reach Wilbur’s height so you didn’t look so atrocious standing beside him on the podium. You quickly ran a brush/comb through your hair just to make it look presentable, looking in the mirror you finger gunned at yourself and smirked. 
    “Looking good.” You beamed happily before stepping out of the bathroom, Wilbur was already standing in the bedroom looking over what seemed to be some stuff around the election. “Wow, Wilby. You clean up nice.” Wilbur looked up from over his book and a bright flush came across his face when he took in your outfit. 
    “I- Ugh- thank you- you too!” He squeaked pupils dilating a little as he took a step back as you got closer. You moved quicker than him though and reached out to fix the collar of his shirt. Smiling a little at his reaction you straightened out said collar and placed your hands on his chest. 
    “You’re gonna do amazing today darling.” Your voice soothed and he seemed to relax under your hands, “Whether you win or not, you were the best choice for L’manburg’s first president. I mean that.” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, as your doe eyes stared up at him Wilbur felt like he lost his last life and went up to heaven.  
He brought his hand up to your cheek and cupped it gently, his thumb brushing across it in soft movements. “Thank you (y/n) that means the entire world to me. Truly you don’t know how happy I am to hear that from you.” You smiled and pressed a kiss to his palm and he sighed happily at the small gesture shared between the two of you. 
    “I’m going to need to go find Tubbo and Tommy,” Wilbur whispered to you after a few more moments of comfortable silence. “But I don’t wanna leave you…”
     “I’ll either be here  or at the podium, go converse with your brothers.” You smiled softly stepping away from him and crossing your arms. He gave you one last look eyeing you up and down before giving you a tight hug once more. 
     “You look really beautiful by the way! See you later!” He said quickly before scurrying out of the room, you blinked a few times before heat rose into your cheeks. You let out your strangled sound slapping both of your hands to your cheeks, 
‘He can’t just say that and run away the bastard!’ 
---
Stepping up to the podium you greeted everyone who was there early, and where greeted by you got a few teasing whistles from Quackity. 
      “You certainly clean up nice Ms. First Lady.~” He mused winking at you and you fondly rolled your eyes knowing that was Quackity being himself. 
      “Thank you very much I don’t look like his often so drink it up.” You teased as he laughed. 
      “I know I will sweetcheeks.” Schlatt mused appearing from besides Quackity once again that earned the duo another eye roll. “Hey come on now what’s with that look? Just what did I do to deserve that? After all, I’m going to be your new president, you’re gonna have to treat me with more respect.” An arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close, he smirked down at you and you frowned. Before you could protest the statement, Schlatt made a startled noise as Tommy seemingly came out of nowhere and pushed him away from you by the horns. “Hey Hey hey! Watch it, kid, this face is a money maker!” 
      “There’s no way in hell you’re gonna be the new president of L’manburg!” The young teen shrieked standing in front of you as if to guard you against the goat-man. 
      “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, you think you have a better chance at winning than me?” Schlatt laughed loudly in Tommy’s face, “Hell even the broad has a better chance at winning than you and Wilbur and she’s not even fucking running!” 
       “Lay off him Schlatt.” You placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder to calm the angry boy down. “Let’s not start a fight, that’s the last thing we need right now.” Tommy looked like he didn’t want to listen to you but shut up as soon as Wilbur came up to stand on the podium. Tommy fumbled to do a little salute and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his almost desperate antics to please Wilbur. 
        “Thanks for trying to prevent another full-out fight darling.” He mused looking at you and you smiled. 
        “It’s my job, after all, that is what I’m here for.” You shot back with a smile going to take your seat behind the group that was already up on the podium. Wilbur smiled softly at you before clearing his throat and addressing the crowd, welcoming everyone here for the first-ever L’manburg election. You sat there watching him give his speech with power and grace and your face softened immensely. In your opinion there was no way that he could lose this election, he was the only one for the job no questions asked. You only zoned back in when you heard Tommy’s loud shriek of shock, you blinked your (e/c) eyes and whipped your head around did you seriously miss the announcement of who won the election? God, you were a dumb broad. You felt someone grab your arm and you turned to face them it was the worried face of Wilbur, 
      “Come on darling.” He spoke softly “We should move to the crowd. Let Schlatt give his speech in peace.”
       “Schlatt won?” You choked out your eyes bugging out of your head.
       “You bet your ass I did sweet-cheeks!” He laughed looking down at you, “Wilbur surprisingly enough I’m going to have to ask you to remove your hands from MY new first lady.” Schlatt had a wicked smirk on his face as he held out his hand to Wilbur who’s jaw dropped in shock. “What? Why do you look so surprised? You picked a looker Wilby,” He mocked with a wave of his hand “(Y/n)’s a fine piece of ass I’m going to let her continue to serve. Come on ova here.” Schlatt motioned for you to come over with his finger, you shakily stood up from your seat. Wilbur grip on your arm tightened as he ground his teeth, you turned to look at him and he looked devastated. 
      “Darling you don’t have to agree to this-” 
      “It’s my duty Wilby…” You murmured slipping your arm out of his hold and holding it to your heart. With careful steps you made your way over to Schlatts side, once more you felt his hand slide around your waist and pull you flush against him. He tilted his head a little so his horns rested lightly on your head. You watched Wilbur and Tommy descend the podium and sit within the audience down below, neither would look at you and you knew why...but you also felt a little hurt at that fact. You were just as upset about this as they were, they had to know that right? 
You heard Schlatt clear his throat and grab the microphone. 
      "That was pretty easy. And you know what I said, the day I got unbanned from the DreamSMP, and the day I said I was running... an election that I won by the way? I said; "Things are gonna change". I looked every citizen of L'Manberg in the eyes and I said; "You listen to me... this place will be a lot different tomorrow." Let's start making it happen. My first decree, as the president of L'Manberg- the EMPEROR! of this great country-! Is to REVOKE the citizenship of WilburSoot, and TommyInnit! Get 'em outta here! Get 'em outta here! You're no longer welcome!" Your blood froze in your veins and your jaw dropped, finally Wilbur and Tommy locked eyes with you. 
      “Schlatt no you can’t do that to them! Tommy’s a kid-”
      “Trust me (y/n) and just shut up for a minute.” 
‘Run.’ You felt yourself mouth as Tommy and Wilbur turned heel and ran from L’manburg, a city that they founded was just ripped right out from under them. You only felt Schlatt’s grip on you tighten as he looked down at you and almost as if he was speaking to your soul he addressed what has left of the crowd again. 
      "Oh, it was so easy! Until further notice... WilburSoot and TommyInnit are merely a memory of L'Manberg. A relic- A relic of the past. A reminder, of the darkest era this country, has ever seen- and I guarantee you all; dear citizens... Tonight, that changes. We are entering into a new period of L'Mangerg- a period, of prosperity! of strength! of unity." He finally pushed you aside and Quackity caught your stumble and held you up in place, you were a little thankful considering you felt like falling onto your knees. “Tubbo- where's Tubbo? where's Tubbo?”
     “I'm right here…” His meek voice wobbles from the crowd. 
     “Schlatt…” You warned trying to sound stronger than you felt.
     “Jesus, do you ever shut up?” He laughed “Is this what Wilbur had to deal with? Jesus you’re lucky you’re smoking hot sweetcheeks.” You grit your teeth and glared at him through narrowed lids, “Kidding kidding! I can appreciate a broad who’s got a brain on her makes it much more fun. Anyway, Tubbo- get- get up here! Get up here on my podium!”
    “Uh- uh…” The young hybrid stuttered hesitantly looking back and forth between the podium and where Tommy and Wilbur once stood.
    “C'mon Tobbo, you're the Secretary of State.”
    “Wait- what- Okay... Wa- I'm Secreta- am I?” 
     “Yeah I think- I think that's... I think he's always been that, I don't know…right?” He looked over at you and you gave a nod in confirmation. He’s trying to pit Tubbo and Tommy against one another the cheeky bastard.
     “Uh, yeah... yeah that's- I didn't know I got to keep-”
     “Well, I'm not gonna fire you! I mean you're Tubbo! What- am I gonna fire Tubbo?”
     “Uh... okay.”
    “Tubbo get- Tubbo get up here. Now.”  Schlatts voice boomed over the crowd another wicked smirk spreading across his cheeks as he looked down at his citizens. The horns only made him look more devilish and menacing to everyone looking up at him. 
    “uh- okay, I'm on my way, I'm on my way, I'm on my way!” Tubbo sputtered out hesitantly, unsure of what the right call was to go with Tommy or stay here with Schlatt. 
    “I don't think he wants the job!” Quackity mocked a grin matching Schlatts spread across his cheeks. You frowned up at him in disappointment, 
    “It’s okay Tubbo I’m here…” You murmured under your breath.
    “Get up here now!”
    “I do want the job! I'm on my way- I'm on my way- I'm on my way!” He sputtered walking up to the podium. You heard Eret scold him softly and some others match their distaste, you swore you heard Tommy in the crowd. “I need to... I'm on my way- I'm on my way- I'm on my way, President. I'm on my way- I'm on my way- I'm on my-” 
    “Ah Tubbo, so good to see you.” Schlatt pursed his lips an arm going around Tubbo’s shoulders like they’ve been best buddies for years. Tubbo made a weak sound of acknowledgment at the greeting. “Yes sir, there he is.”
   “Good day Mr. President.”
   “I love this guy!” Schlatt exclaimed with a loud cheer and Tubbo took a small step away from him. 
   “Okay... Schlatt...?”
   “Ohh my very own Tubbo... Tubbo. As my Secretary of State- as my right-hand man; of L'Manberg... I need you to do something for me Tubbo.” Your eyes narrowed into slits but you bit your tongue if anything you can work from the inside you, try to keep Schlatt reigned in the best you could. 
  “What Mr. President...?”
  “I need you... to find Tommy. And I need you... to show him the door.” Schlatt emphasized slicing his thumb across his neck in a beheading motion, Tubbo paled considerably at the implication. Finally finding your voice you couldn’t help but snarl, 
  “He’s a child Schlatt you can’t go around ordering a child to slaughter another child that’s insane!” You came up and grabbed his arm giving it a sharp tug,
   “I can do whatever I want! Wanna know why? It’s because I’m the president.” He only ruffled your hair with a mocking coo. “Quackity you take her back to her room, then come back home we got some walls to tear down.” You made a distressed sound as you were dragged away, Tubbo said your name with the same amount of distress. You hoped Tommy and Wilbur made their great escape and didn’t have to see the destruction of the walls, fuck this is one hundred percent the worst-case scenario. 
    “Quackity you’re hurting my arm.” You gave a soft murmur and his grip on it significantly loosened, he looked a tad bit guilty. “It’s okay.” You assured you couldn’t blame him for it, he was always kind to you before this which was what also made it so downright confusing. A plan was already trying to brew in the back of your mind, keep relationships with the citizens high even at the cost of yourself, in the end, they might be the only ones to have your back. There was suddenly a lot of yelling and shouting you saw a blur of pink burst past you followed my more of Jschlatt’s guards, Quackity pretty much abandoned you and joined the chase. 
     “Tehcnoblade!” He shouted out “Where the fuck did he come from?” 
Blinking in surprise as you were left abandoned, ‘what the fuck is a Technoblade?’ You glanced over at the retreating figures and you could’ve sworn you saw a glistening golden crown. A figure slammed into your side and you stumbled backward a few steps, looking down you noticed Tubbo clinging tightly to your middle. 
     “(Y/n)! What’re we gonna do?” He looked up at your eyes full of fear and you frowned, this child just got out of one war and it will be potentially thrown into another. “What if Wilbur and Tommy don’t talk to us again? I can’t kill Tommy!” 
     “Hey, hey, hey.” You shushed softly running a hand through his hair careful of the tiny horns growing on his head. “Take a deep breath for me Tubbo, in for five then out for five okay? That’s it you’re doing great sweetie.” You watched for a bit as Tubbo followed your instructions and after he calmed down a little bit you knelt to his height. “We are going to help them, they’ll need some men on the inside and that’s just what we’re going to be.” 
    “You think that’ll work?” 
    “If they’ll have us yes, I think it will work. You’ll probably be able to sneak away much easier than I’ll be able to do you think you’ll be able to handle that?” He nodded vigorously at your words, determination seemed to radiate off of him in waves. Now all that was left was to find a way to contact Wilbur and Tommy, wherever they ran off too.
~~~
I had this in my google docs for a while so I figured I’d post it to give you guys some more food. Under the Floorboards pt. III is in the works have no fear!
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shadyteacup · 3 years
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Noise Canceling Headphones
A dazai x gn! Reader oneshot
It's more of a comfort fic, as I have described a bit of myself in here, but its gender neutral so everyone can enjoy!
Only the eye color, and a beauty mark has been specified in this fic.. I wanted to feel loved by dazai n so made the reader a tad bit like me.. I hope u enjoy!
He laid his head on her lap after a long day of work. Kunikida had managed to squeeze loads of work out of him, and had had him constantly at it for the entire day. Dazai sighed at the feeling of your long, slender fingers combing through his messy locks. He had missed your warmth so much.
He lived for such tender moments. His head on your lap, your fingers in his hair, dim lighting, comfortably chilly air breezing in through the window, and your soft humming of a song about summer and tranquility, is more than anything he ever needs, to be at peace.
His mind was finally silent, filled with nothing. It felt good to have nothing on his mind, for a change.
You were like noise canceling headphones for him. Always blocking out his own violent thoughts, but at the same time, keeping him entertained and happy with your tunes.
He hugged your waist like a little lost child, holding on for his life, almost as if he let go, he would loose himself. Maybe he actually would.
You were confident and strong, he knew that you could handle yourself very well on the battle field. This is why he wasn't afraid of being with you. He knows that you can handle all the obstacles thrown your way, a side effect of his criminal past. But when it comes to emotional stability, you were partly broken, just like him. Although, where your mind was shattered, his was unscathed, and where he was broken, you were strong as a pillar.
You two were perfect for each other, as you both knew the feelings of being broken inside, but were capable of pulling the other back to the surface whenever they fell off the edge.
He subconsciously smiled as he heard your humming slow down as the seconds passed by. You were, no doubt, very tired too. But you stayed upright just to keep him comfortable. You often did this, he realized. No matter how hard or uncomfortable something might be, if it helps soothe him, you would put your discomfort aside for him. You would cook his favourite food, even after a tiring day at work, and even though he is on cooking duty. You would cover him with your blanket during the cold nights, and would get up, half asleep, to find a spare one for yourself. You would always wait for him, whether it be physically or emotionally, to open up to you. You never forced him to do anything. You always went with the flow, even if it meant slowing down for him. You curbed your own desires for his happiness.
He took notice of these small yet enormously touching gestures, and tried his best to reciprocate them. But he couldn't compare his actions to your compassion. And it hurt him to accept that. It hurt him to know that you deserve so much more. But he knows you like the back of his palm. He knows that if he were to leave you, you would lose hope in love. You would feel hurt, lost and angry. He isn't saying this because he feels that you can't find someone like him, no, not at all. He's saying this because he knows how much love means to you, and how much of yourself you pour into a relationship. Because it a means so much to you. Leaving you would be stupid, as it would wound not only him, but also you. He wouldn't be able to handle you not being there for him. And you, would feel that nothing you do is enough. Which is so not true. Even your smile is enough to make his day. The way you tilt your head when you grin at him, the way your eyes shine with happiness, the way the mole at the corner of your mouth accentuates your dazzling smile, it all makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He can't live without you. He can't imagine a world where you were not by his side.
It then dawned on him. Almost like the feeling of attaining nirvana, it suddenly hit him. Like a fresh wave of the bright blue ocean had slapped him across the face. Like the moment when you realize that you're dreaming, and it all becomes clear. All the pieces suddenly fit together.
He chuckled. Ofcourse. He was in love with you. How could he have not known? How could he have been so blind? He loved you so much. But he was afraid of losing you. Even though you both practically lived together, you hadn't said the three words to each other. He knew that you loved him too, all your actions scream the fact. But what if he was wrong? What if you were this kind to every guy you have been with? What if he was no one special, but just another one of your flings? What if you say that you can't do this anymore? What if he confesses and scares you away? What if-
"Hey, what's wrong?"
Your soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts.
"You are breathing heavily, dear."
You cup his cheek.
"Is something the matter?"
Looking into your warm brown eyes, he realizes the genuine concern they hold. He was falling for you, over and over again.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?"
You smile warmly.
"Only if you want to, ofcourse."
He sits up and holds your hands in his larger ones.
You have been so patient, considerate and kind to him.
You deserve to know. You deserve to have an answer. You don't deserve to live in an unspoken, wavering and doubtful relationship. No. You deserve closure, and surety. He must confess. And now is the time. So he takes in a deep breath, and prepares himself to take the biggest step of his life.
He gently rubs his thumbs on your palm, the action helping him to remain composed.
Looking into your tired, curious, honey brown eyes he musters up the courage to finally say,
"Y/N, I love you.."
Check out my books on wattpad(?)
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seijorhi · 4 years
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hello, i love your writing and was hoping if u could write a yandere kuroo x reader where he corners her in a corner and kenma is there and is getting off from it 😳 thank u !
Asdfghjkl this was supposed to be posted on Sunday I’m sorry, bby!! I hope it’s worth the wait! 💕 also, loved this request so thanks for sending it in 😊
Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader, Kenma Kozume x Female Reader
TW dub con, coercion (kinda?), stalking, humiliation
Helping Hand
There’s a certain peace you find in the looming stacks of the library after the sun sets. It’s quieter then, less people milling about. You don’t have to fight for space or books, and considering you have midterms soon and essays coming out of your ears, that makes it the perfect study environment.
It’s only a little after eight, the library’s still open for another two and a half hours, but on the fourth floor it’s almost a ghost town - just how you like it. There’s a professor tucked away in the back corner, piles of books built up around him, an older librarian with her trolley, slowly re-shelving books, and two other guys around your age sitting huddled at a table a few down from yours - the textbooks and highlights spread across their desk having been long since abandoned in favour of literally anything else.
Honestly, you’d wonder why they’d bother coming to the library at all if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence. Most days you were there, so were they - usually together, although it wasn’t uncommon to see just one of them camped out between the stacks as you made your way to your desk. The duo, one tall and lean with a shock of messy dark hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the other smaller, more reserved, with bleached hair and dark roots in serious need of a touch up, seemed to prefer this time to study too - not that they ever seemed to actually do all that much studying.
Usually the blonde ends up absorbed in his switch while the other casually thumbs through whichever book is closest.
So long as they were quiet and didn’t disturb you, who were you to judge?
You don’t really remember when they’d started to appear, only that they’d quickly become a fixture in your refuge - distantly familiar presences like strangers travelling on the same bus to work each day. They smile (well, the dark haired one does) and nod whenever you happen to look up from your notes and catch their eye, and while you’ve only spoken a handful of words to the both of them, they always seemed nice. 
Nicer than the clearly overworked professor muttering away in the corner at any rate, which makes them the logical choice to approach when you find your bladder uncomfortably full halfway through your self imposed study session. Realistically, you know at this time of the night nobody else is likely to make their way up to the fourth floor, much less have any interest in your shitty, old laptop or the five whole dollars in your wallet - yet you find you making your way over to the twosome’s table anyway, a faint blush dusting across your cheeks.
“… don’t want to,” you overhear the blonde mutter, his attention wholly focused upon the game in his hands. “Things are fine, why change that?”
His friend sighs, “Because you can deny it all you want, but I know you better than that. I know I’m not the only one who wants more. You can’t just sit back and…” he trails off suddenly, hazel eyes flickering over to you in surprise. 
Confused by his friend’s sudden silence, the blonde lowers his game and glances up - only to still at the sight of you.
You swallow down your nerves, plastering what you hope is a friendly enough smile across your face, “Hi, uh… sorry to interrupt you guys, but would you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom? I won’t be long or anything, I just don’t like leaving my stuff out in the open,” you say with a sheepish laugh, well aware that you’re rambling like an idiot. 
It’s the dark haired one who answers, a wide grin breaking across his face as he nods, “Yeah, no worries. We’d be glad to.”
You smile back, ignoring the faint fluttering in your stomach (he does look kind of cute grinning like that), thanking him again before rushing away in the direction of the bathroom.
It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift away from the duo back to the essay you’re mid-way through drafting. You have a sinking feeling that the argument you’re trying to use in the fourth paragraph is essentially a just rehash of the point you made in the first. By the time you unlock the stall door and make your way over to the sink to wash your hands, you’re starting to debate the merits of scrapping the whole thing and starting fresh with new ideas.
You still technically have time, it’s not due until the end of the month, but you just kind of want it done so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Then again, that’s kind of your feelings towards the semester as a whole. 
Who are you kidding? University’s kicking your ass this year.
The ancient hand dryer’s almost deafening as it clicks on - it masks the sound door swinging open and the footsteps that echo out from the tile floors.
It’s only when your eyes flicker up to mirror that you see that you’re no longer alone-
Standing right behind you is the guy from before; the tall, dark haired one. 
- and jerk in surprise, stumbling backwards with a choked yelp.
It doesn’t hit you right away - no, that’s relief that has you drawing a hand over your chest and letting out a shaking laugh. “You scared the hell out of me!” you say, bracing yourself over the sink to try and calm your breathing.
No, it doesn’t hit you quickly. Realisation is slow - creeping through your veins like ice as your eyes flicker back up the mirror. 
He hasn’t moved. 
He’s smiling, grinning really, but there’s something… something off about it. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes… Why isn’t he saying anything?
W-why isn’t he moving away?
Your heart, still hammering from his shock of his sudden appearance, squeezes uncomfortably and your eyes slowly widen.
“Wh-”
A rough, calloused palm slaps across your mouth, smothering whatever words you’d been about to speak. “Ah, ah. Gotta keep it down, sweetheart.”
He winks at you in the mirror, taking a tiny step towards you and you squeak, breathing in sharp, shallow pants through your nose as a warm, muscled chest presses against your back. “You’re a nervous little thing, aren’tcha?” he chuckles. “Relax a little - promise I don’t bite.”
With one hand wrapped around your lips the other creeping across your waist, his words don’t exactly bring you a lot of comfort. 
It makes no difference either way - you’re paralysed, shaking and trembling, but utterly unable to move as he noses at the column of your throat, his warm breath tickling your skin.
You could scream, but there’s no guarantee anybody would hear you. You could try and fight him off, but he’s taller than you, and you’re willing to bet stronger as well.
Will he hurt you if you try and resist?
Is he gonna hurt you anyway?
You’ve heard the stories before about men who follow women into empty bathrooms and the awful things they do, but you never...
Those things don’t happen in places like this. The library is supposed to be safe, he- he’s been-
Your stomach drops.
Weeks. 
He’s been visiting the library with his friend, sitting across from you for weeks.
His eyes bore into your reflection in the mirror like he can hear every terrified thought that passes through your head, and with excruciating slowness you’re forced to watch as his lips brush a kiss against your cheek, lingering and sweet - a mockery of tenderness. 
A scared little whimper is all you can manage, and even that is swallowed up by the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open once more. 
Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.
A faint burst of hope flickers to life.
You might not be a fighter, but this might be the only chance you have. You shriek again, the sound woefully muffled, and writhe against your captor’s tightening grip as slow footsteps round the corner.
Please, you think as tears stream silently down your face. Please help me.
What little hope you have is quickly - brutally - extinguished as your would be saviour steps into view.
Your legs shake and you’re almost positive that if it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapped around you, you would have crumpled to the floor.
It’s his friend, the blonde, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching the scene before him - you struggling against an iron grip, gagged and terrified - like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 
Your captor chuckles, relaxing his grip as his hand drifts upwards to palm at your breast and you want to die. “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”
“Shut up, Kuroo,” the blonde groans as he makes his way over, but he barely glances at his friend before his catlike eyes come to rest on you.
Your cheeks are burning, a potent mix of shame, nausea and dread churning in your stomach as you’re crudely felt up, but under the blonde’s attention you freeze.
While his face is a blank mask of apathetic disinterest, those golden irises are piercing in their intensity as they study you.
The glint in his eyes is as unmistakable as it is stark; anticipation - like a house cat watching a golden canary flit restlessly in its cage.
The hiccuping sob comes unbidden, choking at your throat as you wail against the palm at your lips. You’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your entire life, to slap yourself awake and realise that it’s nothing but a stress induced nightmare because this can’t be happening.
Why you?
What could you possibly have done to deserve this?
“Relax,” Kuroo repeats, leaning down over you again, “we’re not gonna hurt you. Just wanna have some fun, that’s all.” You think he’s going to try and kiss you again, but instead his tongue darts out and he licks at the silvery tear tracks, groaning softly.
You shoot the quiet blonde a desperate, pleading look. He hasn’t lifted a finger to stop what’s happening, hasn’t done anything other than stare at you, but even as his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile you hold out on the shadow of a prayer that maybe, just maybe-
Kuroo follows your wide, panicked gaze and almost snorts. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, baby. Kenma’s not gonna help you. He wants this just as badly as I do.” His thumb slides across your cheek, brushing away more tears, “C’mon, on your knees.”
He doesn’t give you a choice - the hand on your shoulder forces your shaking knees to buckle and you fall down to the bathroom floor.
The tiles are cold against your bare legs, but the shivers that wrack through you have little to do with the temperature. It’s far too late to regret the short skirt you’d thrown on that morning.
Kuroo hums appreciatively, lifting his palm to tap it a few times against your cheek like you’re an adorable little puppy who’s just learned its first trick, “It’s a good look for you, baby, but I think it’d be even better without this-” his fingers tug at the collar of your top and his grin widens, “- in the way.” 
Yet he makes no move to take it off for you. One look into his eyes, the glittering amusement darkened with lewd desire and you know that he won’t.
He wants you to do it, to play along in their fun - to be an active participant in your own humiliation.
And really, what other choice do you have?
It’s impossible to ignore the bulge straining against his jeans as your trembling fingers grip the hem of your top and reluctantly yank it upwards. There’s a sharp inhale - Kuroo you think - and a whistle as it comes off, baring your lacy bra and the soft skin underneath to their hungry gazes. 
Only for a moment. 
Staring resolutely at the floor you’re quick to try and cover what little modesty you have left, bringing your arms up to wrap around your chest-
Except a hand catches at your wrist and tugs it back, and when you glance up you find it’s Kenma’s. 
“… Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”
You let your arms drop, hands clenching into shaking fists in your lap, fingernails biting into your palm.
The sound of a zipper being pulled undone is almost deafening in the quiet bathroom. Fresh tears sting at your eyes, but you can’t bear to look at either of them as Kuroo reaches inside his pants and frees his cock.
The hand that cups your cheek is surprisingly gentle as he coaxes your face back towards him and the achingly hard member in his grip. “See Kenma, I told you - change ain’t always a bad thing.”
His dark eyes flicker back to you and he grins, “Open up, sweetheart.”
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Heyyyy! SO as a local comteologist- okay sorry lmao 😂 I was wondering! Could you maybe write about an mc that is very affectionate? Because I am like that and I would give my ALL and just everything for someone I love. So, maybe the guys are pretending to be asleep and they hear mc admitting her undying love for them? I don't want to burden you! So, I think Will, Jean, Leo and Napoleon would be fine :D
I love you! And please take care of your self cuz corona is a hondje- sorry lmao
Have all of my uwus my lovely, I relate HIGHKEY I’m ungodly affectionate irl~
You take care of yourself too! Tyty 💖💖💖 nothing to apologize for I love a good clowning, esp if Theo gets clowned in the process 😂😂
And never apologize for using my esteemed title I will die on this Comte-thirsting hill (☆`• ω •´)b
I hope these attempts bring you joy! 
William Shookspeare:
Our v creative playwright boy was just vibin’. He had a long day at the (obnoxious thespian voice) theater and while he loves the art with all of his being, the man is t i r e d. MC was late to bed and while he prefers to wait for her to join him no he is not horny perish the thought he just started dozing off from the exhaustion. He’s not sure when the lights go out, but he feels an immeasurable warmth around him. Faintly, he can make out a voice murmured at his ear, a gentle hand running through his hair. (I s2g if this bih says “Puck?” I’m gonna smack him for MC)
“Had a long day, hm?” He’s only just coming to, and can’t muster the energy to reply or open his eyes. “I’m sure this next performance will be the best one yet! You surprise me every day, Will...”
“Try not to work yourself too hard, sweetheart. Your work may one day be the world’s greatest marvel.”
He wasn’t sure what it was about the words that made his lips tremble. Was it the praise that always seemed to flow forth at a moment’s notice, the real kind he was so unaccustomed to? Or was it that unshakeable calm; her faith in him unmoved by any fear or doubt--the kind that made him wonder briefly if she was dull all those years ago. Now he was just thankful it was still here, no matter how undeserving he may be.
“But you will always be my entire world, my greatest marvel. I love you too much to let the world have you.”
Jeanne D’Arc (REEEEEE MY GOODEST BOY OTL):
It was early one morning, frost blossoming in fractals along the transparent surface of the bedside window. An inevitable, biting chill lingers in the room while the sun is fighting to climb past the horizon, its time so limited in these winter months. She watches as the light casts a gentle gray over the bare walls--something she promised to remedy soon--so reminiscent of how he appeared to her at first. Pure and bright, but still fighting off a darkness she knew so little about.
The thought made her draw him to her protectively, careful not to wake him up as she tucked him close to her heart. He was so warm, even despite the frigid weather. A product of his time as a soldier? She was never sure, but she was always touched by how often he used that warmth in service to her. 
She remembered earlier the other day, when she returned home from some grocery shopping with Sebas. Concern was overflowing from his stoic face--it was there if you knew where to look for it; his eyes a little more narrow, the line of his mouth closer to a frown. All at once his hands were reaching for hers, relieving her of whatever she allowed him to carry while walking into the kitchen alongside her. When Sebas stepped out again he took her hands in his, pressing them along his face. She had cried out, knowing her hands were freezing--it had to be painful to warm them in such a way. But he only smiled that beautiful smile to quell her distress, the one that always took her breath away, and insisted he could do no less.
“The same goes for me too, though, Jeanne.” she looked at the fierce mark on his face, so unworthy of someone so gentle. She resisted every urge to soothe her fingers across it, loathe to wake him up. She didn’t notice the fingers that twitched at her hip, his signs of stirring subtle. “Whenever you need me, whenever you can’t think of a good reason to walk out of this room. All you need to do is find me, okay? I love you so, so much.”
Leonardo Da Binchi (no i will not apologize. he deserves to be clowned, glorious moron):
Once again her lover was gloriously strewn across the library floor, arms crossed and fast asleep. An exasperated smile found her face at the sight. Perhaps it would have been a surprise at first, but nowadays she would just roll her eyes and walk past. Sometimes, if she was feeling forlorn or a little reckless, she would climb into his lap just as he was. He seemed to enjoy being woken up that way though, so of course she couldn’t give him the satisfaction every time; a woman likes to change things up. And sometimes she was too busy to spare the time.
Even so, the slowly dimming shadows under his eyes were a relief to see. While the celebration of his birthday could only be a blessing, she knew what a double-edged blade it could be. It invoked so many wounds that hadn’t yet healed. While she wished he would share that burden with her--however heavy it may be--she slapped her own cheeks lightly at the impatient thought. Give him time...
“I know you think you have to carry everything alone. And in some ways, it’s something I admire so much about you--the way you always seem to know just how to move forward. Like nothing can shake you.”
She leaned down close to him, bracing herself against the bookshelf as she pressed a kiss gently against his temple. “But know that whenever you find yourself wavering, or even if you just need a place to rest, I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. I love you so much more than you think, Leonardo...”
She stopped herself before she could finish the thought, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear: “more than my own life.”
Napoleon Bonaparte (oh my little lion man...):
They were spending a nice afternoon in the courtyard, as a lovey-dovey couple do, and they went under the veranda to find some relief from the midday sun. Surprising literally no one, our sweet emperor started to doze after some yummy tea time snackies--drifting asleep against MC’s shoulder. She adjusted a bit to change the angle of the lean, making sure he wasn’t putting too much pressure on his neck. Little puffs of air made her bangs flutter as he breathed low and even, and she smiled.
He’d had a guard jobs back to back recently, which meant precious little time to spend with him. Restless and quieter than usual, she had suggested a little stroll together around the courtyard; admiring the flowers and telling him about the books she’d been reading to fill the silence of those lonely nights. It wasn’t long before he started to smile more, snickering when she gave ludicrous summaries of the characters and plot. 
Early that morning she had taken the time to make perfect tea time sweets, fully anticipating--and hoping--it would encourage him to rest. So often he would be worried about her missing out on things or trying to plan more elaborate dates, but if she were honest she didn’t care much for extravagance or constant excitement. These tender moments where he could trust her (and the mansion’s perimeter) enough to fall fast asleep, no nightmares in sight, was enough to fill her heart with so much joy.
“I know you can’t help but want to do everything you can for the people around you; protecting and serving others is your life. I never want to be a reason you feel you need to stop doing that.” She murmured in the silence, playing with the buttons on his coat with a faint smile. “But even so, remember you always have a home to return to. More than that, no matter how powerful or skilled; you’re also one man. A man I love more than anything else in this world, a man I always want by my side--if he’ll have me, that is.”
She took the hand that was entwined with her own, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his palm as his lashes trembled. “I love you, Leon. Whether I see you every moment of every day, or only in stolen moments between assignments. That will never change. There will be times where you belong to the whole world, but this” she placed a hand gently over his heart “will always belong to me. Let it lead you home to me, sweetheart.”
And because I can’t help myself, I added Comte, Mozart and Vincent:
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (he’s the melody I can’t get out of my head DON’T LOOK AT ME):
Despite all of his promises to quit his bad habits, she opened the door later that evening to find him fast asleep against the covered keys of the piano. His shock of white hair was nestled comfortably against his arms, piled together as a makeshift pillow. The sight made her think of those long, long nights in college; thinking you’d close your eyes for a minute--only to be adrift in seconds. 
Smiling wryly, she reached into a nearby closet to retrieve a blanket before draping it gently across his shoulders. Torn between waking him up and guiding him to bed or leaving him be, she decided on the latter. She got the feeling that waking him up would only mean “a few more minor edits” to the composition he was working on, leaving sleep an afterthought. While she knew he often couldn’t help himself, she didn’t want him neglecting his health all the same. 
She’d be back with some hot chocolate in a few hours, just how he liked it.
As she was about to slip back out of the room, the hand at his elbow clumsily grasped for hers resting on the covered keys. Heat bloomed across her face, ears burning as he clung to her warmth. 
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She sat down on the piano bench carefully, trying not to jostle him awake. “Your music will never stop being the most beautiful and soulful sound I’ve ever heard. But even a mind as impressive as yours needs plenty of rest--even more so, I’d wager. You work yourself too hard sometimes, Wolfie.” She leaned until her shoulder brushed his, “But I’ll always be here to make sure you don’t overdo it too much. Sweet dreams my only love.”
Vincent van Gogh (he’s babie your honor):
MC was on her laundry rounds, Vincent’s aprons now thoroughly washed and folded for his use once again. She knocked on the door murmuring a greeting--though fully anticipated he might not respond. While he was usually so sweet and attentive, it was almost like he became an entirely different person when painting. Utterly serious, intensely focused; any attempts at speaking to him would require many tries before he came back to himself with a beaming smile. 
She sighed dreamily, easily picturing it. His eyes would always be stunning, a cerulean to rival the calm waters of the Mediterranean Sea. But in the midst of his greatest passion? They burned bright enough to make her forget the rest of the world existed.
Trying not to embarrass herself on unsteady feet, she opened the door cautiously to find his easel abandoned. Shocked, she scanned the rest of the room until she found him strewn across the couch; a blanket haphazard in its provision of cover. With a gentle smile she stored away the fresh aprons in the dresser before she approached him, kneeling close to the couch so that she could tuck him in properly.
He let out a pleased little huff before shifting slightly in his sleep, body angled in her direction. There was a faint smile on his lips, evidence of what was likely a pleasant dream or peaceful rest. She traced the outline of his ear cuff with insatiable fingers, eyes glistening a little when he nuzzled into the faint touch--trapping her between his cheek and his arm. 
“You’re more precious to me than anything else in this world, Vince,” the murmur was barely audible, he didn’t stir. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and if I’m honest--no part of me really wants to imagine it. This warmth is the greatest gift I’ve ever known; thank you for choosing to share it with me. I love you so much, sweetheart.”
Le Comte de Saint Germain (SAN GERUMAN HAKKSHAKKU):
Every day is a long ass day when you have 10+ children (yes, Leonardo, you are in that child count I hope you’re happy >:| ). For all his half-hearted complaints about the exhaustion and noisiness though, he loves his bubs, and wouldn’t have things any other way.
Even so, it doesn’t stop the delighted giggling that shakes her shoulders when she finds him fast asleep in his favorite armchair. His tie is undone and askew, head lolling to the side--any attempt at his usual poise long forgotten. While she most often found him to be charming and delightful, she loved it even more when he felt comfortable sharing these parts of himself too. 
She set aside the tea she would always have prepared at this hour and reached for the coat he had draped across the opposite chair, settling it carefully over his form. Resisting every urge to join him--Sebas would need her help preparing dinner--she carded a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear so it wouldn’t tickle him while he was asleep.
He was so lovely like this, face unmarred by the weight of several lifetimes that found him when he was awake. No matter how early she rose when they were together, she rarely ever got the privilege of seeing him a little drowsy, lost to rest as he was now. She brushed light kisses to his eyelids, smiling when he half-sighed her name.
“Tuckered yourself out did you? You big worrywart.” She resisted the urge to find his hand and entwine it with hers. “I promise to watch over them, so rest easy, my dearest love.” She played with the collar, tucking him in further. “I know everyone here is precious to you. But remember that you’re the most important person in my life too,” she leaned her forehead gently against his. “While I love to see everyone get along, I love to see you happy and well-rested even more. You’ll always be the only one for me, [insert Comte’s real name].” 
Bonus continuation because I still can’t help myself apparently, somebody please take my laptop away from me:
Arms like steel bands enclosed her in his embrace, a sleepy exhale washing over her ear as she shivered a little at the sudden warmth.
“Mm, ma cherie, surely you didn’t think you’d get away with that kind of teasing...”
“But I wasn’t teasing you! I was completely serious.”
Laughter shook his chest and hers too, making her melt at the undisguised affection in the hands that settled her close to his heart.
“Then you must be punished for such foul play. To think you would ruthlessly attack me while asleep, bien-aime.”
“And how might I atone for this egregious indiscretion?”
She could feel him smile against her shoulder, the rascal. “Stay here a little while longer with me.” As if he had any intention of letting her go. Not that she minded, honestly.
“Threaten me with a good time.” she mumbled, stroking a hand soothingly along his back as they closed their eyes for a while.
A few more minutes couldn’t do any harm, could it?
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laos-soft-bunny · 3 years
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Kenshi: baby Faced.
So fluffy. So much fluffiness the clouds are jealous.
———
You are dancing in the kitchen to Ed Sheeran’s “thinking out loud” while making a cake for Kenshi’s birthday. Kenshi was upstairs taking a shower after a long day of fighting. He knew how much you loved the beard but even how much more you loved the soft face. Of course Kenshi being who he was, the sword was his weapon of choice to shave his face. He was blind but very intelligent. He hated surprise birthdays but for you, he made a small exception. He tried his best to avoid your thoughts of what icing to put on the cake. That was very complicated though. Because he constantly heard your voice. “Chocolate or butter pecan” Kenshi taunted to himself as he decided to butt into your head just a little bit. Using his telekinesis he whispered in your head “hm butter pecan sounds pretty tasty”. You yell from the kitchen “KENSHI! Stay outta my thoughts about your cake!” You can’t help but laugh. Kenshi smiles and sends you a cute little “no” through his thoughts. You shake your head and smile like an idiot, trying not to think anymore on his surprise party you had halfway done.
Kenshi decides to rest his head against the wall and let the water run down his body. The hot water releasing tension in his muscles. Meanwhile down in the kitchen you had balloons tied to the chair, the cake on the table, and boxes of pizza on the table. Sure it wasn’t much but Kenshi was not a hard man to please at all. You sneak into the bathroom and place the cute matching pj set out on the counter. It was a lazy night at home and you figured for his birthday you’d do something cute. You were thinking about dinosaurs while you were close to him, from the shower a loud laugh erupted. “Dinosaurs.. really” Kenshi said out loud, with a laugh that could melt ice. unaware you were right there, trying to keep quiet. You quietly left out of the bathroom and he shook his head. Your footsteps were not missed this time. “Hmm what are you doing baby~” his thoughts appeared in your head again. “Trying to be sneaky?” He asked you, but no response. Until seconds later he heard your thoughts. “Damn it he caught me”. Kenshi tisked softly and took his time washing his hair.
You finished setting the presents on the table and grabbed his favorite bottle of wine to set on the table. Kenshi kept his thoughts to himself while he finished his shower, cleaning off the sword with precision. It was just his thing that when he was clean, so was his blade. Kenshi placed the sword back in its sheath that was hanging on the wall. Letting out a content sigh he turned off the water and rubbed a hand over his face. As always he missed nothing. Kenshi could hear the flame from the candle in the bathroom and the smell of pumpkin pecan waffles filled the room. Your favorite candle. It threw him off for a second. “Ah she’s lit a candle” he whispered to himself. He lifted it with skill with his powers and let it land in his hand, inhaling the scent. That was secretly his favorite too. He set it back on the sink, and his hand grazed over the soft, fluffy pjs that were neatly folded. Kenshi smiled and started to dress.
You were sitting at the table reading a book waiting on your love. Kenshi came down the stairs, his sheathed sword in hand. He hangs the sword on the wall, before he approaches the table. You get up to greet him. Elvis’s can’t help falling in love was playing on the tv. Wrapping his arms around you, Kenshi begins to sway softly with you, singing softly “I can’t help falling in love with you”. You smile and give him a soft kiss. You guide him over to the table. The cake smell catches his nose and he lets out a soft, content sigh. “It smells delicious love” he comments, giving your hand a kiss. You are leaned around him, arms over his shoulders, as you reach to light the candles on his cake. “Those candles say 29 right” Kenshi asks, titling his head slightly. He didn’t feel 29. You made him feel like a child in love. “Of course baby.” You whisper giving him confirmation. “Make a wish, my handsome swordsman” you whisper giving him a cheek kiss. “I have everything I could ask for already” he whispers back, smiling and blowing out the candles.
Kenshi smiles and plucks the 2 candle straight out of the cake and starts eating the icing off of it. “Oh butter pecan.. no wonder it smells so good” Kenshi said as he licked it clean. Butter pecan was his favorite. You pulled the pizza box open and Kenshi almost swooned. It was from his favorite pizza place. “Oh I’m getting spoiled today aren’t I” Kenshi asks you, licking his bottom lip. “God you know I hate spoiling but you make me feel like a god” Kenshi says, giving his head a little tilt toward you beside him. You smiled and said “only for the best man in the world. You deserve to be spoiled”. He takes a bite of the pizza and the cheese just melts in his mouth. You had the wine already poured and he picked up a glass with his free hand and brought it to your lips. You drank gently and then laid your head on his shoulder. “You pulled out all the stops today with my favorites didn’t you babe” Kenshi gives a playful taunt to you. you think to yourself “I’m so thankful he’s enjoying this.” Kenshi interrupts your thoughts with his own. “It’s you. I enjoy anything you do. And cherish it.” You blush and giggle. You and Kenshi eat your fill of pizza and wine then he brings the knife off the counter with his mind. He’s always impressive when he moves things without even trying.
Kenshi cuts the cake with ease and gives you the first bite off his fork. He loved your baking and he wasted no time in eating a slice of that delicious heaven. Kenshi didn’t know there was gifts until you plopped a box in his lap. He let out a heart melting laugh and asked you “what is this. I feel the wrapping paper but it’s like nothing is there.. did you wrap air”. You playfully slapped his arm “I’m not that skilled. Air is pretty hard to wrap” you told him in a fit of giggles. Kenshi runs his hand over it and shreds the paper after tilting his head toward the gift. “A sword sheath?” He asks, feeling the material in his hand. “Genuine leather. Wow that was light”. Kenshi remarks and his fingers find his name carved into it. “I figured you needed a new one. Your other one is roughed up” you told him, with a smile, watching him adore the gift. “It’s perfect. I can’t wait to put my sword-“ he began saying As the sword flew across the room into his palm. “Into it” he finished the sentence with a laugh as the sword slid into the new holder. You just laughed with him. His skills were never unimpressive. He was so smooth. Speaking of smooth. Your hand went to his cheeks. “How did I not notice this?” You whispered and smiled to yourself like a giddy child.
Kenshi’s face lights up. He loved those cute giggles you made. He opened his other gifts and after opening the last one, he had you scooped up in his arms, swaying you to the music coming from the living room. He set you to your feet and wrapped his arms around you, dancing with you. You laid your head in the crook of his neck and slow danced with him. “This has been the best birthday a man could have asked to have” Kenshi whispers into your ear, and placing a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday Takahashi” you whispered back to him. “I love you forever” he whispered as he dipped you down and gave your neck a tender kiss. His eyes shined with love and adoration as he brought you back up, and rested his forehead against yours. He was glad this was his life with you.
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cuddlemen0w · 3 years
Text
daily dose of failure | peter parker x reader
(+ the group aka mj, ned and harry)
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warnings: none
a/n: my friends... i have no clue what this is :/ but it’s part 3 and the end
previous
“He’s in danger!” the man in the red mask said.
“Peter?” y/n's heart hammered in her chest. She was sure her legs would give out at the superhero's short silence. “Peter is in danger?” she worried once more, urging him to go on, explain, or deny his statement. Anything. Anything, just to know what happened to Peter.
“Yes," he answered, “Peter needs Ned, Ned Leeds.”
y/n was still very much frozen to her spot as Ned moved forward from beside her. It was only when Ned along with the Spider-man, were gone, that she sat down in disbelief. MJ moved to her friend, hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to find out what's wrong, yes?"
y/n touched her friend's hand on her shoulder, sqeezing slightly in agreement.
"I'll be right back."
y/n's feet tapped on the floor of her bedroom erratically. Phone clutched tightly in her sweaty palm. "Respond, please," she pleaded into the silent room. The only response she got was a blow of wind from her open window.
For the houndred time, she checked her messages.
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It was useless, really. No matter how many times she asked, no one would explain anything and Peter would not reply. She tried calling multiple times too, but it send her straight to voice mail. And after many voice messages she grew tired of being ignored. Did she not mean anything to him? Were they ok with her being scared to the core the whole night? No sleep, no rest?
All of it went through her mind at once. She paced her room quietly, her parents already asleep. Silent tears started to prick her eyes.
For the last time, she opened Peter’s contact and clicked call.
The phone rang, and rang. It went for five minutes before it died on its own. Peter’s contact, along with his now, mockingly smiley face disappeared from her screen.
A sob escaped her throat.
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“Are you sure it was a good idea?” Peter asked his two friends. All three of them were now in the school’s lunch hall, a crowd of people from the party around them.
“Yes.”
“Not really,” both said at the same time. Peter narrowed his brows at MJ, she only shrugged. “I mean, yes, yes. It’s a good idea.”
It was their free period before lunch. y/n was the only one in class still. But he hasn’t seen her all day, either she avoided him or didn’t show up at all.
Ned saw the doubt in Peter’s face, “She’s in class, saw her this morning.” Peter nodded.
He had to grow a pair, he remembered Tony’s words. This time, he would listen to them.
“Okay, everyone!” MJ clapped her hands, interrupting everyone, her head cocked to Peter.
“Um, so,” he started, “As you all heard yesterday, I was— uh, I was in danger yesterday,” he winced at his words internally.
“I witnessed a robbery?” he looked for help in Ned. He of course, saw the miserable look on his face and stood up to help.
“There was a robbery, and he was there,” Ned said with a proud nod.
Peter chuckled nervously, “and Spider-man helped me.” Peter finished, making MJ face palm. She rubbed her eyes, smudging her already faded mascara.
Frustration was evident in her voice, “what he’s trying to say is, that nothing really happened to him, everything’s fine and now we need your help,” she stated, meeting his grateful gaze. “You’re welcome,” she mouthed.
“What help?” the blonde guy from yesterday asked, his deep voice booming above all the people.
“Peter here,” MJ pointed to him, “really likes a girl, and needs help telling her.”
“What do you need all of us for?” a small girl with pastel pink hair asked.
“That’s what I’m trying to get at, sweet cheeks,” MJ winked, making the girl blush a bright pink. “Here’s the thing.”
After MJ explained the whole plan, everyone went to put it into action. The cheerleaders painted a big banner, that Harry’s football team hanged in the lunch hall, the words big and clear. Ned and MJ along with the pink haired girl went around the hall, explaining and pleading with people to elaborate, or simply, get out the way.
Everyone from the school was on to it by lunch.
It all made Peter feeling grateful, but he couldn’t shake the nervousness so easily. “What if it won’t work out?”
“Don’t say that, not after we put all these people into it. Besides, if you don’t tell her, I’m pretty sure all these people will, not the mention the big banner over there,” MJ said, making him look up.
He likes you, get together already. Was painted on the white canvas, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the red and pink hearts around the words, few of them had his and y/n’s initials paired in them. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
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Nothing was positive about y/n’s day. She spent the night crying herself to sleep, the evidence was clear in her bloodshot eyes. Her cheeks were puffed and she was sure if people looked closer, they could see the starting of dark circles under her lids.
She avoided her friends, too proud to approach them first. They ignored me yesterday. So I will today. It was childish, really. But she stood her ground.
All was going smooth, she didn’t have to meet them, since that day they all had different classes. But was starting to get tough. Lunch was behind the corner and that meant facing her friends, and Peter.
The bell rang and everyone started to get out the class, she stayed behind. She packed her books slowly, almost painfully so. She didn’t run like everyone else. Her steps were slow, prolonging her journey to the lunch hall. Her eyes were down the whole time.
Once in the hall, a pair of feet appeared in her vision. Blue sneakers with roughed edges. Peter’s. Her eyes shot up as he started to speak.
“I’m so—”
Smack. y/n’s hand stung, so did Peter’s cheek.
The slap sounded through the whole hall, all the excited smiles dropped at the scene.
“Yeah, I probably deserved that,” he nodded, hand on his cheek. At his words, the girl shook her head.
“Wha—” he was once again interrupted by her. But now, it wasn’t at all painful. It was soft, sweet and salty? She was crying when her lips parted from his.
“You didn’t answer, and I—” It was Peter now who kissed her. His lips were tender, moving lovingly over hers. All they felt for each other poured into it.
“I’m sorry,” Peter said. “I really am.”
“I am too.” She touched his red cheek. “That was a bit too much.”
Someone cleared their throat behind them. MJ. “So you’re telling me we did this for nothing?”
The two of them turned to face the whole room, all eyes were on them. Smiles splattered over all the faces again. ‘He likes you. Get together already.’ Hanged over them.
“No,” the girl smiled at Peter. “I like you too, we should get together already.”
“We totally should,” he said, with a big grin, his eyes full of love.
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hyungwonmyheart · 4 years
Text
Right On Cue
Group: Astro Pairing: Moonbin x Female Reader + Jinjin Words: 1,087 Tags: dom/sub relationship, spanking, punishment, bratty sub Summary: Tired of Moonbin ignoring you while playing pool with Jinwoo, you don’t choose your words wisely during a confrontation and Moonbin makes you pay the penalty...chosen by Jinwoo.
You were bored.
Sitting on the couch in Moonbin’s game room, you’d been reading while he and his friend, Jinwoo, played billiards. You weren’t sure how many games they had played, only that so much time had passed that you were now on Chapter Five of the novel you just started. Too much time, in your opinion. You marked your place, closed the book, and sighed. Glancing at the window, you realized it had grown dark already. You were so engrossed in the story, but even that couldn’t hold your attention anymore.
You checked your phone. Jinwoo had come over around 4:30PM, and it was now close to 6PM. You sighed again. Five chapters, you thought. Those were decent sized chapters, too...How much longer are they going to play?
The guys were laughing to themselves, talking about something that seemed to amuse them. You tapped your fingers on your knees. Then, your stomach growled. Well, it was dinnertime. You wondered if they had figured out what to have as far as food went.
Moonbin had been playing long enough. You were hungry, deprived of attention, and needy. A dangerous combination.
You stood and scampered over to Moonbin. He was watching as Jinwoo readied his shot while holding his pool stick with both hands, the handle resting on the floor. You slithered your arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, your breasts firmly against his back.
Letting go of the stick with one hand, he tenderly rubbed your arm. “Hi,” he greeted.
“Hey,” you replied, nuzzling his broad back.
His eyes remained on Jinwoo, who just missed the striped ball he was aiming the cue ball for. Moonbin laughed and said, “Close, so close!” He went to move, but realized you were still clinging to him. “Uhh, babe?”
“Hm?” You played naive.
“Let go. It’s my turn.”
“But you’ve been playing for so long,” you whined, “and I’m hungry!”
“Then go make yourself something to eat.”
You puffed out your cheeks. “I thought we were going to eat together! You’ve been playing this stupid game forever!” You looked over to the other man for support. “Aren’t you hungry, Jinwoo?
“I mean, I could eat,” Jinwoo chuckled.
Moonbin leaned his pool stick against the billiards table and grasped your wrists, pulling them from around his body. Lifting a hand, he gingerly patted the top of your head. “Are you starved for attention, sweet lamb?” He knew the truth. You could be a real brat when you felt neglected.
There were times when you hated to admit he was right, especially when he hit the nail on the head. You nodded your answer.
He chuckled lightly, a smile gracing his lips before his eyes narrowed on you. His hand left your head and found your throat. Backing you up against the pool table, Moonbin had you pinned. “I was entertaining our guest,” he cooed, “but apparently yet another lesson is needed to teach you how to use proper manners.” His fingers tightened on your neck.
Your eyes were as wide as they could be while your entire body trembled with anticipation for what would happen next. Like he said, you had a guest here...even if it was only Jinwoo. Sure, he knew about your dominant/submissive dynamic with Moonbin, but Moonbin wouldn’t “teach” you in front of him… There was no way. That would be too...hot.
“What kind of punishment does she deserve, Jinwoo?” Moonbin asked his friend.
Jinwoo smiled, leaning on his pool stick. “Every brat deserves a good spanking,” he determined.
“Ahh, yes. Good choice,” your boyfriend exclaimed, letting go of your throat.
You swallowed hard before you were spun around. Moonbin bent you over the side of the pool table, immediately lifting your skirt and pulling down your panties. As your ass was exposed, your face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, okay?! I understand that I was wron--” You were cut off as Moonbin’s hand clapped against your ass. Your mouth dropped to allow a squeak to escape.
“Oh, you understand? Are you saying you knew it was wrong when you were rude? When you interrupted our ‘stupid game’?” Another swift smack to your ass and another ‘EEP’ from your direction.
“It’s not a stupid game!” You blurted, looking to Jinwoo and then at Moonbin over your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have called it that!”
“That hurt my feelings, you know. I don’t call your hobbies stupid…” Moonbin caressed your tender skin.
“Yeah, that wasn’t very nice,” Jinwoo had to comment.
The longer Moonbin rubbed your ass cheek, the more you tensed. “Is that new book I bought you good?” He wondered.
Tears welled in your eyes as you waited for another spank. “Yes, sir…”
“Tell me about it.”
“Uhh...Well...It’s about a--”
SLAP.
“NGH!”
Moonbin smirked. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” He asked.
You buried your face in your hands, knowing he was toying with you. You loved it. Taking a deep breath, you rested your hand on the table’s green felt and murmured, “It’s about this girl--”
SLAP.
You moaned loudly. You abruptly covered your mouth, afraid to give away how much you actually enjoyed this.
“This isn’t a punishment at all, is it?” Jinwoo questioned.
Moonbin laughed. “Nope.” He ran a finger along your slit and declared, “She’s soaked, too.”
You wiped your bleary eyes, trying not to wiggle your hips against his finger. If he went any further, Jinwoo would probably see a side of you that you’d never live down. “I said I was sorry!” You pouted. “I won’t make fun of your game anymore!”
A cat-like grin appeared on Moonbin’s face before he fixed your panties and flipped your skirt down. “Thank you for the apology,” he said, lewdly licking his fingertip.
You spun around and playfully slapped his arm.
He laughed again, but brought you into his arms. He dried your cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. “What do you want for dinner?” He asked, embracing you tightly.
You melted into his arms, clutching onto the back of his shirt. “...Anything. I’m that hungry,” you mumbled.
Moonbin looked over to Jinwoo and winked. “All right. Let’s go get something to eat.”
Jinwoo started gathering the pool balls and arranged them for Moonbin. “What about that new restaurant downtown? My treat.”
You pulled away and looked to either of them with bright eyes. “Yes! Please?!”
Moonbin pat your head, and this time it was without ulterior motives. “Since you asked so nicely. Sure.”
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Text
Be More Careful
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Haruno Sakura/Rock Lee
1593 words
For: @spacebabe51​ and @bazmultifandom (cuz you seemed interested)
One patient left and then Sakura would officially be free from her shifty at the hospital. Able to go out and enjoy the rest of her day.
Perhaps if Ino was finished training with her team for the day, Sakura would be able to convince her to go out for some sushi with her. A treat for a hard days work.
They deserved it.
Stopping in front of the room she had been directed to, she reached out and rapped her knuckles against the door.
“Come in,” the voice that called out from the other side of the door sounded familiar. “I just, uh…”
She doesn’t wait for whatever is supposed to follow those words. Grabbing the door handle, she pulled the door open swiftly and stepped into the room to see Rock Lee in the process of trying to pull his green jumpsuit back on.
“S-Sakura-Chan!” His eyes go wide when he meets her gaze, his face turning a deep shade of red while he moved the jumpsuit in front of his body to block her view. As if he wasn’t wearing boxers or she hadn’t seen worse since she started working at the hospital. “I didn’t- I thought…”
“That you would be getting someone else as your Doctor?” a shy nod is the only response she gets. “Well, too bad. You’re stuck with me.”
Not that she thought Lee had any real problems with that aside from a bit of embarrassment.
“I didn’t mean to waste your time, Sakura-Chan.” Ignoring his rambling for a moment, Sakura started to do a visual check. Though, it didn’t take her long to figure out why Lee was there when she saw a huge bloody bandage on his arm. Likely put on by one of the nurses to stem the flow of blood before she was able to get there.
“What did you do to yourself this time, Lee-kun?” Making her way over to his side, she took hold of his wrist and pulled his arm up. “Hold.”
Releasing her grip on his wrist, she started to carefully undo the bandages so that she could see the full extent of the damage.
Judging by the bruises that littered his arms, abdomen and face she assumed it had something to do with training.
              Unsurprising, given the amount of times Sakura had seen Lee’s name in Hospital records for training related injuries.
“Six new bruises and an injury on your ar. You’re pushing yourself too hard again,” Removing the last bit of bandage, she sighed when she saw a deep, bloody gash there on his arm. “Let me guess. One of Tenten’s weapons?”
“She wanted to try out one of her new moves,” Lee defended his teammate. “She asked Neji to train with her, but he had already promised to train with Hinata today so…”
So you thought that you could fill in for him?” another nod of his head, this time with an ashamed look on his face. “Do you know why Tenten would ask Neji to train with her when she wants to test out a new move?”
Well Lee tried to think of an answer, Sakura examined his wound. The gash was deep, but not deep enough that his humerus was hit. That meant she had one less thing to worry about.
“Neji can deflect her attacks, including her weapons, with his eight trigrams palms revolving heaven,” There’s pride in Lee’s voice when he gives her his answer. Something that is no less surprising that all of the bruises on his body. “Had Neji been available he would have been perfect for Tenten to train with in order to perfect her new attack. But since he wasn’t…”
“You volunteered yourself instead, even knowing you could be more seriously injured even with your speed,” She expects this of Lee, but that doesn’t mean she’s any less disappointed that he got himself injured when he could have avoided it. “You know, everyone is always talking about how you’re so much like Gai-Sensei. I don’t think any of them realize that you have the same stupid blind dedication to people as Kakashi-Sensei.”
That’s the only way she can explain it. Kakashi-sensei and Lee-kun were the only people that she knew who were willing to train with others even knowing that they could be seriously injured.
Just last week she had watched Shizune patch up her Sensei after taking a kick to the ribs from Gai-Sensei that had left him with two broken ribs and a week off from missions. All so that Gai-Sensei could try out a new move he had come up with.
“I think in Kakashi-Sensei’s case it’s love making him do dumb things,” Lee’s laugh rang in her ears. Easily the most beautiful laugh she had ever heard. So full of love and joy. “That’s what Neji is always saying.”
“He’s probably right,” it took her Sensei a while to relax around her, but as soon as he had he went from ‘Hard to read mystery’ to ‘open book’. One of the most obvious things about him was that he was completely, undeniably in love with Gai-Sensei. “But that’s not the case with you. You’re just reckless.”
Removing her hands from his wound, she reached into her left pouch and pulled out the suture kit that she always carried around on her.
“Well, I can’t do much about the bruises. Those will heal within a few days,” though by the time these one’s healed she had no doubt there would be brand new one’s to replace them. “But I should stitch up that wound to prevent infection.”
Lee doesn’t argue, but he also doesn’t move to sit down on the hospital bed directly behind him. Instead, he continues to stand there holding his jumper in front of his body like a shield.
“You know, it will be kind of hard stitching you up while you’re standing,” she frowned. “even after I give you the local anesthetic to dull the pain.”
Even the smallest amount of movement could screw up her work.
“O-oh!” Glancing back at the bed, Lee finally moved to take a seat. “Sorry. I’m not used to…”
She waited for him to finish his sentence, but no other words followed.
“You’re not embarrassed to talk to me, are you Lee-kun?” She gave him a playful smile as she took a step forward and set her suture kit down on the bed side table for easy access. “The boisterous, condiment Rock Lee too shy to finish a sentence. Are you sick?”
“No, that’s not it!” Lee insisted, shaking his head pretty violently for a man insisting that he wasn’t embarrassed. “It’s just…I never thought…”
“That I would be the one taking care of your wounds?” Sakura frowned. “Why not?”
“Well, you always seemed like someone who would, you know…” she leveled him with an unimpressed look. “No, that-I said that wrong!”
“I’ll give you one more change,” she offered. “Try that again.”
While Lee took a moment to rethink his words, Sakura dug into her pockets once more for the anesthetic.
“A powerhouse!” She jumped when Lee screamed his response suddenly. “You always seemed like more of a combative Kunoichi. Not that being a medical ninja is bad. Gai-Sensei told me it takes a lot of skill and studying to become one.”
That certainly wasn’t wrong. Some days she wondered if she would ever finish studying.
“You’re amazing Sakura-Chan,” Lee’s compliment caught her off guard, lighting up a fire in her chest that made her feel warm and…loved? Was that the word she was looking for? “You’re always pushing yourself to be better. You never give up no matter how hard things get.”
“You’re one to talk,” she laughed even as her heart pounded in her chest. “you faced down a surgery that could have killed you, all so you could keep being a shinobi.”
“Well, ya,” Lee responded as if it was no big deal. “Of course I did. I wasn’t going to let my dream of becoming one of the greatest shinobi ever die without a fight.”
Always so passionate and upbeat. Nothing seemed to ever get Lee down no matter how bad things got.
“Well, as admirable as it is, I do with you would be more careful while you’re training,” twisting the cup off of the anesthetic cream, she set it down on the table by her suture kit and dipped two fingers into the cool cream. “This will numb the area so I can work without causing you unnecessary pain.”
Nodding his head Lee watched Sakura take a step towards him and hissed when she started to apply the cold cream to the skin around his wound. For a moment a comfortable silence fell between them.
“I’ll try to be more careful,” his voice was tender, a promise lingering in his words. “If you promise me that you won’t over work yourself.”
Sakura’s hand stopped, her eyes locking on his eyes his words sank in.
Taking a step back, she slapped her clean hand over her mouth and laughed. She laughed so hard and long that her ribs were starting to hurt when Lee reached out and gripped her shoulders with a soft, worried look in his eyes.
“S-Sakura-chan are you alright?”
She could kiss him. He looked so adorable standing there panicking over her health because of a little laughed when he was the one who had gotten sliced by one of Tenten’s weapons.
“I’m perfect,” she closed her eyes and smiled at him instead. “Absolutely perfect.”
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helaintoloki · 4 years
Text
The Overlook Hotel
pairing: Dan Torrance x reader
warnings: language, some graphic imagery, possessed Dan, slight angst, fluff, about 2k in length
notes: I’ve wanted to write a Doctor Sleep piece for so long but was always hesitant because I knew my audience would be small. But what’s the point of writing anything if it’s only for the amount of notes you’ll get? anyway, this was created with components from the book, movie, and my own imagination. In the book Dan is legitimately Abra’s uncle by blood, but for this I thought it would be interesting if the reader was Abra’s mother and Dan was her estranged father. A lot of this is up for your interpretation so have some fun with it and enjoy! :)
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The watchful presence of the spirits that reside in the hallways of the decaying hotel is the first sensation to strike you. A chill runs deep in your bones accompanied by the knowledge that you are not entirely alone in the Overlook. The musty smell of old wood and grimey carpets mixed with your own anxiety make you sick to your stomach, but you swallow down both your fear and the bile inching its way up your throat for Abra’s sake. You must get her somewhere safe, you must guard her with your life, and you must fulfill your promise to Dan.
You can understand now why little Danny Torrance had his apprehensions about this place. With its winding, disorienting hallways that never seem to go anywhere important and the lost souls that linger about
(“Great party, isn’t it?”)
in search of its new management, the Overlook is the bringer of nightmares and creator of evil. It takes and It destroys only to take and destroy again when It becomes understaffed. Well, you weren’t going to let It take Abra and you certainly wouldn’t let It take Dan. Over your
(his)
dead body.
But it isn’t until the hotel “wakes up” that you realize your lives are in danger. You wouldn’t necessarily say you have the shining because you don’t, just a natural instinct when it comes to your daughter and her father, and from your hiding spot in the hallway
(Both Dan and Abra refused to have you out there with Rose present. Stay close but stay hidden, that was the plan)
you could sense something was wrong. Abra didn’t have time to explain as she sprinted towards you, and you didn’t question it as she took your hand and guided you along with her. You trusted that your daughter knew what she was doing, and you had to assume this was all part of the plan.
“When I say the word, you two need to run. I’ll come get you both when she’s dead,” Dan had hastily instructed you whilst preparing for the arrival of Rose the Hat. With the axe still gripped tightly in his hands did he give you a hurried, sloppy, desperate kiss that was too rushed to convey just how much he loved you but had a long enough duration to blanket you with a sense of comfort. No matter what happened, you would be okay. That was the mantra you chanted over and over again in your mind as you navigated the maze-like hallways of the hotel.
After stumbling across countless horrifying guests of the Overlook and struggling to access safe passage among the many locked rooms, the two of you finally stumble across a suite with the door cracked slightly ajar: Room 237. Anxious glances are exchanged between Abra and yourself, but there isn’t time for any apprehensions the two of you may have. The room exudes violent energy, that much is certain, but so does the rest of the hotel. Your options are to stay out in the open and face whatever may come your way- and something is coming - or take your chances inside the suite.
“Inside, Abba-Doo,” you instruct calmly, but the frantic nature of the way you gently push her inside reveals your inner turmoil. You pray that Dan has finished Rose the Hat off once and for all, you hope she suffered and you hope her death was agonizingly slow because that bitch messed with your daughter and you will not tolerate such nonsense. Your hatred for the woman could easily be compared to that of Abra’s, her vengeful smile always at the forefront of Dan’s mind. It scared him to know his own daughter, the sweetest little girl he’d ever met, could be so spiteful. It almost reminded him of his father in a sense, and that just made his stomach sink with guilt.
(If Dan had a dollar for every time he’d hoped and prayed to his higher power to make sure Abra hadn’t inherited any of the bad Torrance genes, he could buy the three of you a nice house along the coast of California.)
You shut and lock the door behind you, though you’re not sure what good it will do at keeping the spirits out. They know this place better than either of you do, and they’re probably laughing at your pathetic attempt to protect yourselves right this moment.
“Mom?” Abra calls quietly, voice lilting ever so slightly. Her wide eyes are faced towards the bathroom, body unmoving and skin paling significantly at what sits before her.
You smell it before you see it, the decaying flesh, the mold and mildew collecting not only in the tub itself but on her corpse as well. The sagging skin of her arm leaves brown droplets of water on the bath mat below her as she ploddingly pulls back the shower curtain. It’s her undead smile that makes your knees weak in a way that almost forces your legs out from under you, a smile full of rotten teeth, a smile that conveys her intentions to harm the both of you. Instinctively do your arms wrap around Abra’s shoulders as you pull her close to your trembling form, eyes never once leaving the woman in the tub as she begins to rise from the murky water.
“Abra, if she takes even one step out of that bathtub, I want you to run,” you breathe shakily, glancing around the room for any item you could possibly wield as a weapon. Maybe you should have stopped by the kitchen and grabbed a knife, but there hadn’t been enough time.
“He’s coming,” Abra says suddenly, her muscles tense underneath your fingertips and her eyes tightly shut. “Mom, you have to remember that it’s still Dan. He’s still in there, you can’t forget that.” There are tears in her eyes now, voice trembling as she pleads for you to understand.
“Abra, what are you talking about?” You urge uneasily, but your question is answered by the sounds of shouting coming from down the hallway.
“Where are you, you little pups?! Come out and take your fucking medicine!”
“No.... Not Dan,” you utter helplessly. “Oh god, please not him.”
“Y/N!” He shouts louder now, prompting an unsolicited scream to tumble from your lips. A hand quickly slaps over your mouth to silence yourself but the damage is done. Out in the hallway he grins wickedly, grip on the axe tightening as he limps towards room 237.
“Little pig, little pig, let me in,” Dan taunts menacingly, knocking the wooden end of the axe against the door. His voice is warped, coarse and rough and not his own. Though they come from his lips, those are not his words.
“Abra, get behind me,” you demand hoarsely, coaxing her to act as if you were her shield. She can feel you trembling against her, sense the rapid beating of your heart, and feel the anguish swimming inside of you as if it is her own. You don’t want to lose Dan, not now, not after finding him again years after you’d last met, not when you had just started to rebuild a family together.
The doors slam open so suddenly you nearly trip over your own two feet and land on the dingy couches behind you, Abra following close behind. The figure that stands before you is a shell of the man you love. He flashes a deranged grin your way while limping closer and closer to you both, and his grip on the weapon is so tight his knuckles are almost as white as the milky haze over his right eye. This murderous man is the same man who had held you close in bed just nights before
(“I love you, and I’m never letting you go again.”)
and he’s itching to hack you and Abra to pieces.
“There you are, pups,” he coos with false tenderness. “You bitches have caused me a lot of heartache, dragging me into your bullshit like I’m some kind of a chump!”
“Dan...” You step backward, and he staggers forward.
“You’re just two mouths to feed, two mouths to bitch and complain, two mouths who cost money and time.”
“Danny, please,” you weep, stomach summersaulting as you back into the couch with nowhere left to run.
“Well I’ve had just about enough,” Dan seethes. His shoulders roll back as he begins to raise the axe, and he intends to make you his first victim. “It’s time to take your medicine, y/n. Let’s see if you can handle it-“
“You’re a false face!” Abra blurts, causing Dan to momentarily falter. “You’re not my dad.”
“Who else would I be?” The monster jests with a condescending smile painted across its lips.
“You’re the hotel.”
“Masks off then,” it replies unbothered. “Step aside child, your mother’s about to get what she deserves.”
“Maybe you should think about where you’re standing before you try to hurt us.”
“Abra,” you whimper, hands gripping almost painfully at her shoulders. Tears stream steadily down both of your faces, but her voice is much more relaxed and steadier than yours. “Abra, what are you doing?”
“The body you’re standing in, the face you’re wearing, that’s Dan Torrance. My father.”
“Dan Torrance,” the Overlook cackles mockingly.
“The man who stopped by the boiler room as soon as he got here.” The laughter stops abruptly then at her revelation, and for the first time tonight the Hotel is afraid.
“You little brat,” It seethes before swinging the axe forward. A scream escapes you as you yank your daughter back, but the blade halts its slice midair as the fog over Dan’s mind begins to fade. He falters with a moan, allowing Abra to gently guide the weapon away from endangering you both.
“Abra?” Dan groans, his voice now his own.
“Dan!” You all but cry, immediately throwing yourself into his arms. He wastes no time in pulling you desperately close to his body, his nose buried into your hair and his bloodied hand coming to cradle the back of your head.
“I told you both to run,” Dan scolds gingerly.
“We couldn’t leave you,” Abra admits in a trembling voice only to be pulled into the hug by her father. “Not when we just got you back.”
“My girls,” Dan all but sobs, “I’m so sorry for everything. I could never hurt you, I could never lay a hand on you. You don’t deserve this.”
“All that matters now is that we’re together,” you sniffle, a tearful smile gracing your features as you rest your hands upon his cheeks. “And from now on we always will be.”
Both Dan and Abra understand it’s not that simple, but at the moment neither of them care to voice their concerns. It’s been years since anyone has had a happy moment in this dastardly hotel, and Dan intends to savor this time for all its worth. His father hadn’t been able to escape his inner demons, and he hadn’t been able to protect his family; the Overlook hotel had consumed Jack Torrance.
But it wouldn’t take Dan. Not without a fight.
*note: the gif used above is not mine !
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voltagesmutter · 4 years
Text
Book Club
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Prompt: Soryu - Can you guys just fuck already?” “Finish inside me, I mean it” @brialoveskbtbb​
“You're joking right Sor?” You rolled your eyes at his comment.
“I happen to think it’s a fantastic novel,” He protested, holding the book close to him.
“Could you be reading anything more cliche, Soryu?” You laughed.
“Cliche? Do enlighten me,” He questioned you, putting the book down and leaning forward slightly.
“So the detective, let me guess he has a drinking problem? Inspired by the great Sherlock Holmes? A close friend betrays him? Comes from a broken background? Oh and you then have the seductive temptress who he is definitely banging,” You reel off as you count out each idea on your fingers, “Your practically reading Mamoru's life,”.
“I mean, most of thats happened,” Soryu mumbled, clearly unimpressed at you ruining his book, “But this is far from that damn detectives life, the only thing that matched was the drinking problem,”. You let out a light laugh at his comment.
“Very true, Mr.Oh,” You smile.
“So what about you, what are you reading today?” He asks, picking up the book you had placed on the table as you reached for your coffee, “Pride and Prejudice, who’s the cliche now”. He cocked an eyebrow to you with a light smirk.
“But it’s a classic cliche!” You protest, “It’s such a beautiful portrayal of love, how you long for the characters to be together but both stubborn, the relationship between them blossoms and by the end they have both changed for the better sake of love, I mean it’s like a pure romance of romance,”. Soryu couldn’t help but admire the way your eyes glinted with your explanation, how you threw yourself into passionate conversations when you truly felt something towards a subject, it made his slightly-frozen heart melt every time. 
“Oh god, are you two having your stupid book clubbing meeting again?” A yawning Mamoru asked as he stumbled into the living room. Soryu and you had made it a weekly thing to spend some time together discussing your favourite books, it became the highlight of your week, every time allowing a softer side to the Mafia boss to be slowly revealed to you. 
“You're just jealous because you can’t read anything but a cigarette carton,” Soryu glared at the rugged detective who just wafted his hand at the comment, placing a cigarette between his teeth as he reached for his lighter.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just keep it down some of us are going to try to sleep,” He mumbled in response, lying down, his head close to your lap as your eyes flicked to the amber flame. 
“Mama it’s 10 am, how are you so tired?” You laughed, shaking your head.
“I work hard kid,”.
“You work hard at doing nothing,” Soryu ranted, unimpressed at the rude interruption now lying far too close to you. 
“Anyway,” You continue, “I just find it so enticing watching Mr.Darcy turn from this cold-stoned man into a more composition being, vise versa with Elizabeth, both of them changing in their ways for their love,”. 
“Kinda like Soryu then,” Mamoru chuckles, blowing smoke into the air, not even flinching as the cold sensation of steel is pressed against his head, Soryu leaning over him to do so.
“Shut your mouth your damn lazy cop,” Soryu hissed, Mamoru moving the gun out of his face.
“Only true, we’ve all noticed the changes in you Sor since Bella came along,” Mamoru’s words leaving a blush on your cheeks as you blink a few times looking at Soryu, “Can you guys just fuck already?”. You almost had to tackle Soryu off of Mamoru, he got in one swift punch to his face before you managed to pull off him, scolding him for his actions.
“Soryu he’s only teasing you, don’t get so wound up!” You hissed, pulling his arm back, saving Mamoru's ass from being heavily beaten. 
“Stupid detective,” Soryu mumbles adding curse words under his breath, a small blush on his cheeks as he sulks away.
“The fuck Mamo? Are you trying to get killed?” You sigh, picking yours and Soryus books up off the table.
“Tch, he’s too touchy kid, it’s too easy to wind him up,” He chuckles. 
“Touchy or not, you know better than anyone what he is capable of,”.
“No harm in admitting what is true sweetheart, Soryu got a crush on you, the idiots just too damn awkward to admit it,” Mamoru said as he exhaled, flicking the ash into the next by ash-tray.
“A crush? Mamo really what are you 10?” You laugh, brushing off the nonsense, Soryu hugely hated women, you would be no expected regardless how you felt about him. At first you were terrified of him, how could you not be, the man pulled a gun out every freaking five minutes like it was a normal thing to do. But as time swiftly moved on, you found yourself growing rather fond of him, enjoying time you spent together like how you would make him omelettes to take to work, the weekly book club, getting lost in heated debates and conversations, how just being in his presence made you smile like a giddy idiot. 
“Don’t play koi darlin’, we all see the looks you share with him, how he watches you when he thinks no-one is looking, Soryu completely smitten with you and from that kiddy grin, I’d say you feel the same,” Mamoru chuckled, watching the heat rise in your cheeks at his statement. 
“I… just- Shut up!” You flusterdly reply, slapping him playfully on the chest with a book before leaving the room, letting Mamoru finally get some well deserved sleep after being for a whole 3 hours. You pushed all thoughts of Mamoru’s words aside in your head, he meant nothing by it, you were used to the teasing of all of the bidders in the penthouse. 
“Sor?” You gently knock on his bedroom door, wanting to give him back his book, last time he left it out Baba and Ota drew willies all over the pages, which lead to Soryu threatening to shot their asses into next week. 
“Enter,” He yelled from behind the door as you pushed it open, his room smelt crisp and fresh, everything perfectly placed in a specific location inside. 
“You forgot your book,” You smile, walking in, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed, his tie loosened slightly, “Do you not have work to go to?”.
“No, no, Inui has everything under control so I’m take the day off,” He hums softly. 
“Oh! Well if you're free, I can continue on-” You start, handing him his book, his hand lightly brushing over yours sends a light jolt of electricity through you, making you almost drop the book from the feeling. Soryu feels it too, a spark between you. Your eyes meet over the book, hands still touching before he pulls away with a blush, guesting you to sit next to him. 
“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” He whispers to you, keeping your hand on top of yours, the quote making your heart flutter.
“Quiet the Mr.Darcy, aren't we,” You laugh so lightly, wishing he was saying them words to you, not just simply quoting it from the book.
“I mean it…” You feel your heart also leap out of your chest, “Everything that idiot said is true, I’m in love with you,”. The gaze of his eyes into yours, the pink tint to his cheek, the reassuring hand over your brought tears to your eyes. 
“Soryu, I… I love you too,” You whisper, as oxytocin released with your blood, pumping the loving sensation through your body. Your lips met in a passionate frenzy, finally claiming each other as you had both so longed to do. Clothes slowly shredded, admiring the sight of one and other as you revealed yourself to each other, both you giving into the pleasure you had so longingly seeked.
“Soryu,” You whispered as positioned himself against you, tender kisses being shared.
“Do you want me to stop, is this? Am I going too fast?” The concern is his voice, lit a fire in your stomach, this man was too perfect.
“I want you to Finish inside me, I mean it,” You whispered against his lips, desperate for him to fill the ache and desire you had craved. 
“Your perfect, so so perfect,” He repeated against your lips, as he pushed himself inside you, taking his time to bring you both a earth-shattering release. 
Mamoru lay sound asleep until he was awoken by the soft whimpers coming from Soryu’s room, a light smirk on his face, he was genuinely happy the Mafia man had stepped up and claimed the woman he loved.
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terrence-silver · 3 years
Note
Hey, I saw your gorgeous faceclaims for Terry's parents earlier, so I was wondering; could you perhaps do some sort of quick one-shot featuring the two of them? Nothing long or complicated. Just a little insight into their daily (messy?) lives back in the 50s? Thanks a lot. 💙
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He waddled in drunk.
Again.
Thing is, he didn’t understand how come Red 31 wasn’t a winning option on the roulette wheel when red as a color has never failed him before - his lucky choice for years, in a sense. He could’ve swore to god almighty, that fucking game was rigged. It was rigged and it was rigged in such a way to harm the economic savings of decent, hard-working Americans like himself. Really, if anything, he blamed McCarty for letting in all those damn Communists into the country and messing up the order of things around here. That was the only way Morton could explain his losses tonight. Fifty thousand dollars in one sitting. Straight ripoff and as such, the deplorable state he was in tonight was well-warranted. Did he try to fight those bastards in the security department? Yes! Did he get thrown out of the casino? Yes, he was! Did he, by any chance get in an alteration with one of the suckers who did in fact win a sizeable amount of money tonight on the same fucking roulette wheel and were slaps generously thrown around? Yes, they absolutely were! And proudly at that! This was a free land.
And now, he was home.
Deep-fucking-joy.
His beautiful pastel Harrods catalogue house.
To his gorgeous nagging wife and their gorgeous tiny brat son.
-”It’s three in the morning.”-
A voice chided and of course Myra would be awake waiting for him like some sort of interrogator in the partial darkness of the hallway, stepping out of the bedroom in a silk bathrobe over her lace chemise and her blue rollers strapped to her curls, arms crossed over her chest with bloody intent, a scowl gracing her red lips as she took a long drag out of her cigarette, huffing the smoke into the air. She had time to put on a lipstick? In the middle of the night? The damn casino scammed him out of his own money and she had time for her goddamn rouge face-paint? The absolute nerve of this broad. She didn’t even wear her usual house slippers. No. She had her heels on like some manner of decadent, shameless saloon harlot. Because of course she did.
Wretched Biblical viper.
-”Y’know. If I knew you’d be so good at stating the obvious and telling the damn time I’ve would’ve strapped you to my wrist instead of a Rolex and just carried you with me around all day.”-
Morton shook his hand at her frantically to nail the idea behind his words into her head, clanking the gold clasp of his arm-watch in her direction. The general idea was, that before she even tried to accuse him of anything at this late hour, to gently remind her, as she often needed to be, that he in fact made all the money in this household, and as such, he could waste and spend as much of it as he pleased, however he pleased, whenever he pleased like the man he was. Because, really - who was going to stop him? Did she really think he didn’t know what time it was? There were no clocks in casinos. Yet, he always knew, regardless. It was an ingrained instinct, by now.
-”You’re bleeding, you reek and you look like hell, Morty.”-
She clicked her tongue in annoyance alongside an eyeroll, using an endearment instead of his full name, walking around him with her heels clicking on the marble carpeted floor as she plopped down in the velvet armchair facing him directly, crossing her legs, watching him pour himself a glass of scotch and downing it one swift move. This has happened before. Of course it has. But, was it such a sin he wanted out of this stifling, godforsaken upper middle class life out here in the fucking desert, peddling rings and knick-knack like a common salesman or roadside merchant? Was it so bad he wanted to make a quick spin of money? Was it so hard to understand he wanted Lady Fortune to smile at him? If only just once? Let him live the life he knew he deserved? That she deserved. That their son deserved. That he, correction and all humbleness aside, Morton Silver, deserved, most of all?
-”We can’t all look like Liz Taylor, ma’am. Respectfully.”-
He spat back in disgust, loathing how beautiful she appeared.
So close to making him behave in ways a gentleman never should.
-”How much?”-
She inquired firmly, with a certain sense of softness.
He immediately what she meant, even without clarifying.
He averted his gaze, sighing in defeat - putrid, bitter defeat.
Leveling his eyes instead, with the glass liqueur bottle in front of him.
-”That much, huh?”-
Myra knew, even without words spoken, more or less what the monetary casualties of tonight’s exploits were - she had an instinct for things like that by now, the damn woman - finishing the butt of her cigar and crushing it in the crystal ashtray next to her seat and leaning over her white cream boudoir instead, starting to remove the rolls from her hair one by one, combing them out steadily and attaching the pearled earrings to the pierced holes of her lobes. She once stated he had a serious addiction and that  she read in a health magazine at her book club that such things weren’t anything to be ashamed of and that it could be curable with the right methods and care - that she worried about the state of him - where he was headed - where they were headed, as a married couple - but he didn’t want to hear about it. If she intended to institutionalise him she had another thing coming. He knew what they did to people deemed crazy.
And the Silvers had a reputation to uphold around these parts.
His father was a jeweler and his father before him.
His father’s father, even.
He only wanted to increase what he inherited.
Not let it all go to waste with the knowledge that he wasn’t quite right.
People would avoid them both like the plague for it - bloody bastards.
-”I’ll make it back for us. I always do. You know me! You know I do! I’ve luck at the tip of my fingers, all I need is the right moment at the right time and it’ll find me when I least expect it! And you love me for it! Maybe next time this year, we’ll be sitting at a balcony somewhere, overlooking the sea! And you’ll be sunbathing with a big hat and we’ll never look back! Maybe up the West Coast - maybe -”-
He found himself ranting, a wave of desperation, guilt and hysteria taking over his senses, fueled by alcohol and a need to rationalize and justify himself, suddenly on his knees and grabbing Myra by her ankles, nearly ripping the nylon of her sheer, flesh-colored stockings with the sharpness of the ruby on his wedding band, pulling her away from the mirror and back unto her arm chair, embracing her legs and leaning his face unto her lap, trapping her in place because he needed her to stay put and listen like he needed air to breathe, rambling and stuttering as he did. He despised this place and he knew she did too, but money was never enough to move someplace better permanently and for that reason he hated it here all the more out of rage. All the dust and scorched, dryness of the earth, and the unbearable desert wind and the goddamn mob burring mutilated bodies out in the wild, and the hyenas, and the loan-sharks, and the snakes, and the hookers and the temptations and the sinning and people blowing their fucking brains out due to accumulated debt and he just couldn’t take it anymore. It was hell. And he wasn’t out of here in a couple of years, he’d just ram his car off of the first cliff with himself, Myra and Terry in it and call it a day. It wasn’t the most Christian way to go, but heck if he cared at this point. He was as far removed from God’s light as he could be by now.
-”You’ll wake up the child with your drunk rambling.”-
She chastised whispering, with infinite tenderness.
With a tinge of sadness and pity too, he figured tiredly.
Letting her run her manicured fingers through his hair sweetly.
Comforting him - another woman would’ve left him by now, surely.
He drank and whored around and gambled and cussed and shouted.
Not her though - all she wanted was him, their son and money.
And although a bit skinny, puny and small for his age.
Almost to the point of occasional embarrassment -
Morton figured a change of scenery would do Terence good too.
Get some strength back into him - make him tall, statuesque and healthy.
Last thing Morton Silver wanted was a malnourished, sickly offspring.
-”Do you believe me, though? Do you believe me when I say I’ll give us lives worthy of gods and leave behind this petty corner-store waste of time? I don’t want to spend the rest of my days behind an old, dusty counter, convincing people which fucking engagement ring to buy some random, nameless dame off of the street they met in a joint one time!”-
He looked up at her almost pleading, fingers digging into her skin to the borderline point of nearly making her bleed - his humiliation at requiring her approval in the first place mingling with genuine need and rage at even being in his position mixing into a potent sort of fury where he was just one inch away from slapping her if she answered negatively and then grabbing her and kissing her the next for running her pretty little mouth like that. He was an irresponsible, hypocrite, drunk gambler and lying, materialistic, greedy whore-mongerer. She was a tobbacco-addicted, fashion-crazed, haughty diva obsessed with her pearls and being the perfect, unassuming upper-crust housewife and mother. They were made for each other. Hell, they even looked alike, aesthetically speaking, both pale, lanky, dark haired, with stark blue eyes - like a matched pair of paper dressing dolls cut-out from a magazine. If anything - little Terry would be a looker. Not an overly wealthy looker, but a looker nonetheless. A little pretty twig-boy with no inheritance quite big enough or impressive to turn heads. Not if they stay here. In this crime-infested cesspool of filth that threatened to drag him down even lower.
He pressed a sloppy, inebriated half-kiss to the side of her mouth.
Trying to make himself forget how much he exactly lost tonight.
She turned her head away, nostrils flaring at the stench of him.
She didn’t exactly bear the scent of roses either, reeking of tobacco.
How many did she exactly smoke in the darkness expecting his return?
-”You always did things your way and I’ve enabled you, in part. Now all I can do is sit around and wait for you to come home alive and hope to god someone doesn’t beat you half to death on the steps of some sleazy, two-bit gambling den like a dog.”-
Myra’s voice cracked and she was overtaken by a wave of sobbing.
Tracing the fresh wound on his head, impartially.
In defeat - her tone pained, regretful.
They been through his debate a million times.
And a million times they’ve reached this exact conclusion.
She didn’t even bother cleaning the blood on his scalp.
This happened so often, there was hardly a point anymore.
He’d be battered and bruised at work again by tomorrow.
She’d ambush him in this same fashion, at this same hour.
Wearing the same bathrobe and spewing the same reprimanding.
And he wouldn’t really change or learn - neither would she.
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theawkwardterrier · 4 years
Text
Games We Play
Steggy Week 2k20, day 3 Prompt: Modern Day
Summary: Steve and Peggy’s new interest in their phones has the others confused and concerned.
AO3 link here. Thanks to @steggyfanevents​ for organizing!
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Steve often sits up front to chat with Clint when he’s in the pilot’s seat. According to him, he used to do that during the war sometimes too, just shooting the breeze while being transported here or there. (Well, he actually said “shooting the shit,” which made Clint raise an eyebrow, but probably like him more than he thought he’d ever like someone who referred to “the war,” as if there’d only been one.)
It’s just the two of them today - unusual but they were the ones around - and yet Steve takes out his phone as they take off, fiddling around and muttering at it.
“You need me to drop you over the Apple Store on the way back?” Clint finally asks, trying to tease out what the issue is. He’s actually fine without a conversation, and Steve is pretty good at comfortable silence, but you take care of your teammates, notice when something’s different. Agent Carter might be around, understanding him in ways no one else can, but it can be good to get a new perspective.
“What?” Steve says, still distracted. “No, it’s fine.” He gives a final, triumphant tap to his screen, mutters, “How d’you like that?” and puts his phone into his pocket.
“Okay.” He leans back in his seat, crossing his legs at the ankle. “Now explain the appeal of NASCAR to me again.” So Clint does, and Steve still doesn’t get it, and Clint notices him continuing to check his phone the whole rest of the trip back.
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“Morning, Aunt Peg!” Tony strides into her office as if Peggy’s assistant is a potted plant, and not even a particularly interesting one. Hugo is a bulldog with nearly everything, and had actually tendered his resignation in shame over his inability to stop Tony from doing what he wanted; Peggy told him that unfortunately this was a Stark feature that they would both have to simply learn to live with.
By which she means that Hugo can stand down and allow Tony entry without a fight - but that Peggy doesn’t have to give him a scrap of attention until she is ready to do so.
She doesn’t even glance up as he seats himself across from her, slapping a file folder against his palm. The gum he is chewing - actual bubble gum, like a child - is obvious from both the scent and the bubbles he blows to entertain himself as she continues to drag her finger across her tablet.
His patience, of course, runs out first. Doubtless he’d already been a little buzzy with energy if he’d decided to take a trip down with hard copy documents for her. “What are you doing there?” he asks, craning to see, but the glare from the window is too strong and a second later, she’s dropped the cover shut anyway and transferred her attention to her computer monitor.
“I think you’ve adapted too well to modern technology,” he tells her grumpily, watching the ease with which she switches between them. That actually makes her flick a laughing eyebrow upward.
“We use what we have and do what we must. I would certainly like to see you trying to get by in 1945.”
Tony shudders. “No bet. I’ve seen one of my dad’s old soldering irons from back then. Thick as a pipe. Totally without finesse.”
“Howard did manage quite a bit without your fancy tools, but there’s no shame if you couldn’t,” she says innocently, attention entirely focused on clicking something as he sputters in front of her. Typing a few final words, she finally turns toward him fully. “Now what was it you needed, or were you merely finding it dull in your workshop despite your precision soldering irons?”
“I’m starting to remember why I always regret coming down here,” he mutters, but flips the folder onto her desk anyway. “Just need your John Hancock by the arrows. Or Jane Hancock, I guess.”
She picks up the file, starting to page through it as she remarks over the top, “Oh, are we going to waste some perfectly good tea by tossing it into the harbor?”
“I think your Lipton is safe.”
“As if I would ever,” she says sternly, marking a large X across a paragraph she doesn’t like, turning the page and doing it again. Once she’s finished with the whole document, she drops it back onto the desk so it slides toward him.
“You must have known I wouldn’t sign that.”
“Worth a try,” he shrugs.
“Well, try again and see if it’s worth your while,” she says, just as her tablet makes a soft, insistent ding.
“Need to get that?” Tony asks, leaning shamelessly forward as she flicks the cover open.
She spins her chair, saying archly, “I do, actually. I assume you can find your way out?”
“Naughty pics from Cap, huh?”
“Yes, which leaves me to wonder why you’re so eager to catch a glimpse.”
“He’s a handsome man,” Tony says, seemingly unbothered, but when Peggy replies, “He certainly is,” he makes a retching sound and stands to leave.
“Bothered by a woman enjoying her sexual prime, are we?” she asks, and he beats his way out of her office, passing Hugo at a near-jog.
She chuckles quietly and applies herself back to the task at hand.
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“I don’t think it has an easy answer,” Bruce says, “and we’ll probably be dealing with it for a long time yet.”
“It’s probably a good first step that it’s being taken on at all. Back—” Steve stops himself, takes a sip of his drink; he tends toward coffee on the whole, but when they meet up he usually joins Bruce in his search for the best chai in the city.
“You were going to say, “back in my day…” weren’t you?” Banner teases, gently delighted. “It’s okay, you still can. I won’t tell.”
Steve shakes his head. “Tony probably has some kind of radar for it.” He moves off the curb to let a couple pushing a baby carriage go by, then steps back up to walk the last block to the tower beside Bruce.
“How’s the latest alloy coming?” Steve asks, tossing his cup into the garbage by the reception desk. Bruce groans, even though it’s nice to have someone actually remember what project he’s working on.
“We’re getting close, but the fine tuning is a killer.” The elevator arrives and people start flowing out into the lobby. “What are you up to for the rest of the afternoon?”
“Not much,” Steve starts, but then puts his hand in his pocket, distracted by the vibration from his phone. “I’m just—I have to—”
“Are you coming?” Bruce asks, after he’s been holding the door of the empty elevator for a solid minute and Steve, engaged with the device, doesn’t even seem to have noticed. Bruce wonders if he’s read the research about changing brains based on screen use.
Steve waves a hand, attention still on the screen. “I’ll take the next one.”
“Same time next week for book club?” Bruce calls as the doors close.
“Yeah.” Steve actually looks up at him for a second, that familiar grin on his face. “This’ll all be finished by then.”
Bruce returns to his lab with the definite feeling that he doesn’t want to know exactly will be finished.
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“There really aren’t any beaches like the ones over there. I’ve only ever been while I was working, and I still managed to have a good time,” Natasha says, finishing the last of her steak.
“We are planning a vacation,” Peggy says thoughtfully. “The middle of April, as long as no world-ending danger pops up between now and then.”
Nat smiles. “We’ll try to keep it to a minimum. Although you could always slip out before things get really bad and just forget to have your phones on.”
“Steve would never stand for it,” Peggy says, which is true, but they both know that Peggy herself wouldn’t either.
“Is everything…” Natasha hesitates. Uncharacteristic, maybe, but she still isn’t entirely used to the rules of having friends. “Are you and Steve okay? Because I’ve been picking up a little...something lately.”
“What? Oh, yes, everything’s fine.” Peggy takes a little sip of iced tea through her straw. “I have no idea what you might have detected.” And if Nat wouldn’t have said it with equal complete casualness, she might have believed her.
“Are you sure? Because--”
Peggy’s phone buzzes inside her purse on the table. She takes it out, pursing her lips as she looks at the screen.
“You’ve been on your phone a lot lately,” Nat says slowly.
With a laugh, Peggy taps one last time and slides her phone away. “Isn’t everyone these days? Terrible habit, but I’m sure I’ll break myself of it one day soon.” She picks up the dessert menu. “Now, what’s for pudding?”
Natasha orders the most deeply chocolatey thing on the menu; she figures she deserves it with whatever’s going on.
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“A strong bout,” Thor says, clapping Steve approvingly on the shoulder.
Steve walks over to the bench at the side of the gym where they left their stuff. “You too, even if the whole ‘mythical god who can call down storms’ bit tilts things a little in your favor.”
“Your little disc stands up well to them!” Thor assures him earnestly, tapping the shield as Steve sets it down and picks up his phone. “But perhaps I can make it up to you.”
“Depends,” Steve says with a frown, taking in whatever is on the screen, “on whether you know anything about the game Scrabble and what to do with these letters.”
Thor leans over to look. “You use the letters to make words which intersect, I understand.” His eyes roam over the board and then he says tentatively, “Are there not gherkins on Midgard?”
“Huh?”
“Gherkins?” Thor forms a little shape with his large fingers in demonstration. “Small pickled cucumbers?”
A smile grows over Steve’s face. “You’re a genius,” he says, manipulating something on the screen. “A genius at storms and at Scrabble.”
“Well,” says Thor, clearly pleased but trying to be fair, “perhaps only very good at Scrabble.”
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“You know what was really great? When you put down kinkajou,’” Steve says around the toothbrush in his mouth. He spits. “I had wanted to use that N but it was worth it.”
“It was,” says a satisfied Peggy from where she’s changing into her pajamas. “And I’d like to know where exactly you pulled ‘bezique’ from.”
“Churchill loved it. He tried to get me to play a time or two. I was just lucky the B was already on the board.” Flipping off the bathroom light, he comes over to the bed and pulls the covers aside for himself.
Between their combined salaries - well, after Peggy found out that Steve was still getting the baseline amount agreed to after he’d woken up and had negotiated an appropriate raise on his behalf - they’ve been able to afford not only a bed that they can sprawl in, but a bedroom that their new mattress can fit into. Lying down in it might be Steve’s favorite part of the day.
“Did you realize we’d been worrying everyone this week? They all think something awful has been happening or that we’re breaking up.” He stretches, shoving the extra pillow to her side (he can’t sleep with more than one).
Peggy snorts. “Amateurs. They should just be lucky that they didn’t see us after the poker championship back in—What was it, ‘44?”
“Just before - December of ‘43. I didn’t think I’d make it to New Year’s,” he recalls fondly as she climbs into bed and snuggles into him.
“I’d never have let that happen. You’re smart, moderately talented, and you play to win; it would be a shame for that to go to waste.”
He kisses her. “Good to know where I stand, I guess.” He kisses her again. “Maybe we’ll tone things down a bit but how about a new game tomorrow?” He kisses her a gentle third time.
“We’ve played every day since we discovered the application,” she points out. “Why should tomorrow be any different?” She kisses him this time, pressing him back into the pillow until he forgets all about competition or vocabulary or any of it.
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(Eight and a half months later, she types “magnetizes” triumphantly into her phone - and on a triple word score too - as they wheel her up to the maternity floor. They don’t tell anyone else about that part.)
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my-fanfic-library · 4 years
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Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [22]
Masterlist
~^*^~
“Drac!”
The gasp of his name filled the hallway, right after the sound of his hand slapping your ass. He chuckled, your pout only managing to be adorable to him.
“I couldn’t help it. My god, I never want to see you wear anything except leggings again.” He breathed.
“Typical male.” You rolled your eyes, hitching the strap of your gym bag higher up your shoulder.
You stalked towards the elevator, ignoring the hot gaze the vampire was currently giving you. Maybe inviting him to the gym was a very bad idea. Especially in the outfit he had decided to sport to “fit in”. A muted grey/green t-shirt, a little baggy, a little low cut on the neckline, exposing just a tease of his collarbones. The black joggers were an anomaly to his usual wardrobe choices.
“Instead of going to the gym, I propose we stay here and improvise.” You finally turned your head to send him a venomous look.
“You literally took months of reluctance to even fucking finger me and now you won’t even let me go to the gym because my leggings rile you up?” You feigned an angry tone, “stay here if that’s how you’re going to be.” You pressed the button, waiting for the elevator.
“I already told you, I can’t do what I want to you. Did our little session the other day ease any of your tension?”
You rolled your eyes, face flushing as you thought back to a few days ago. The doors opened and you strolled in, the tall vampire hot on your heels. You turned to face the doors, only to almost knock into his chest. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist and pulled you up to your tippy toes. You glared up at him as the door snapped shut.
“You didn’t answer my question.” His voice was a little gravelly, the sound of it making your heart skip a beat.
“I rolled my eyes. That’s an answer in my books.”
“Clearly I’m going to have to do something more... strenuous next time.” His lips came down on to your jawline, pressing tender kisses to your skin. You hummed.
Then, his fingers slipped a little lower, eventually making their way to your ass. He squeezed, making sure to get as much into his hands as he could.
“Stop!” You laughed, twisting away from him. His grip tightened.
“Why?” He whispered against your skin, “we are the only occupiers of the elevator, right now. Would it be so terrible?”
“Yes, seriously I’m about to go back upstairs and change.”
“Don’t,” he growled, squeezing harshly, causing your to gasp, your hands moved to snake around his neck, “even think about it.”
“I have no idea what’s made you so possessive all of a sudden, but you pack it in now, mister.” You playfully commanded.
Dracula’s lips continued on your neck, and he clearly had no intention of stopping even after the elevator had reached the bottom of the building and the doors opened.
~^*^~
The gym was an... experience. Upon leaving, you vowed to never let Dracula tag along again. No less than four times did he get into altercations with other men who had been ogling you (three out of the four being during your squat session), and he was adamant on just watching you which was off putting. When you had invited him along, you had hoped that he would actually partake in exercise.
Apparently you were too distracting.
Said the man who had sat on the bench press, practically drooling whilst you did your warming up lunges and stretches.
Yeah, he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near the gym again if that was where you intended to go.
When you returned back to the apartment, you noticed a missed call on your phone. Your mother. Whilst you had been in contact with her, it was time for her annual summer party, in which all of her friends, and their friends, and her colleagues and their friends crowded your home for hours on end. It was so exhausting to have to socialise with so many people that you didn’t know or care about.
As you called her back, you regretted it almost instantly.
“[First]! Finally, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you!”
“Yeah, sorry, I was at the gym.”
“Look, you know that my party is next week, right? You’re going to come, aren’t you?”
“Erm, I don’t actually know...”
“Oh come on, [First], I haven’t seen you in so long! You have to come!”
“Well, I mean, I’ve not been in London long and-“
“Yes, apparently you’ve shacked up with some man!”
“Mother!” You shrieked. Clearly Dracula had heard, since he turned around to send you the most devilish grin. You batted him away, “that’s not true!”
“Well, Martha rang me up and told me she saw you out shopping with some man your father’s age! And then Daphne FaceTimed me and told me she’d seen you in a car on two occasions with the same man!”
“Oh my god!” You groaned, “stop listening to gossip about your own daughter from the fishwives!” You scolded.
“I’ll keep going if you don’t agree to come.” You could hear her playful smile.
“Alright! Fine, I’ll come.”
“And bring your mystery man - apparently he’s quite a looker-“ you hung up, not wanting to think about your own mother drooling over your boyfriend.
“Who was that lovely woman?” Dracula was very clearly trying to wind you up.
“Oh shut it.” You snapped, “you’re just smug because they think you’re attractive.”
“Well, I am.” He stated matter-of-factly.
“Oh!” You groaned, stomping away to get dressed.
The week dragged. Your mother was constantly ringing to harass you over the party. ‘Black tie but casual, [First]!’ ‘Don’t forget that Brenda’s son Mark is coming, I believe you’d suit each other quite nicely!’ ‘Have you decided what you’re going to wear?’ ‘Your entrance fee can be a platter of those nice little sandwiches you make!’
It was dizzying and to add insult to injury, your mother’s constant inquires on your “mystery man” was blowing up his ego quicker than you could say ‘bloodsucker’. Oh, if you had a stake you’d strike it right through his heart if it meant one moment of peace. You eventually told him about your mother’s plan to hook you up with this Mark (which had been ongoing since you were 16 and he was 18) which switched his mood a whole 180° extremely quickly. Now you had an impatient mother and a grumpy vampire.
Was god punishing you for your fornications with the man currently lying next to you, facing towards the wall instead of you?
Technically you hadn’t even had sex, so technically there was nothing to punish.
Or was it just because he was a vampire?
You scoffed in amusement at your thoughts.
“Thinking about Mark are you?” Dracula grumbled.
“Oh yes.” You jeered, “tall, handsome Mark and how I think I may have to take up my mother’s offer and see him to dinner. I wonder how far he’d go on the first date... it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex-“
Within a matter of seconds, you were pinned under the vampire, his dark pools swimming with all sorts of angst. His lips curled down into a scowl. You felt like you deserved a punch to the face. How you managed to dig yourself an even deeper hole was beyond you.
Well, Dracula found use for the belt that had been on the bedside table and you had learnt your second lesson on purposefully making him jealous. You were sure you were growing addicted to his fingers.
~^*^~
You swallowed, looking over yourself one last time in the mirror before you stepped out of the room. The black satin cami dress was formal, right? It came down to your knees, with a little bit of a peplum hem at the bottom. It was a little revealing, mostly on your chest, but you had accessoried to keep the attention on the gorgeous Whitby Jet wrapped around your neck concealing your bite. Yes, you looked fine.
Nerves would always eat you up before you attended these stupid parties.
Stepping out into the main room, you held your breath. Holy fuck. Dracula was leaning against the table, clearly bored of waiting for you. His hair was tousled back, a few strands falling forwards towards his forehead. A black shirt sat undone on the upper half of his chest, and over the top a black suit jacket rolled up past the elbows. You oggled his forearms and the image of the way they flexed as he pumped his fingers into you flashed through your head. Your eyes moved down to his legs, form fitting suit pants showcasing his thighs and you almost drooled. Running a hand through your hair, you coughed, grabbing his attention.
The moment his eyes fell on you, your heart quite literally stopped. His eyes... oh dear god. It was the way you’d begged god to make someone look at you. Just once. So much love, a sparkle of utter awe of you, glistening the truth of his affection. His lips quirked up into a smile. His eyes racked over your body, loving the way your dress fit you perfectly, hinting at your body but leaving the majority of it to the imagination. It was long enough to not be dignity-diminishing, but short enough to give attention to your legs.
“If I hadn’t made a promise to give you the best life, I would take you right here on this table,” he patted the marble, “and drink every ounce of nectar within your veins.”
“Keep talking like that and I will make you do it.” You smirked.
“I promised you I’d help you live,” he prowled towards you, unable to wait another moment to pull you into him, “and I believe you see our union differently to how I do.” He fornwed just a little and you pulled yourself into him, drowning him in your perfume and warmth.
“It’s just sex.” You retorted, looking up at him.
“Not with you it wouldn’t be.” He whispered, “and whatever coward made you think that it’s “just sex” would be advised to never come a step near to me.”
“Why, would you teach him your ideas on union?” You chuckled, your slightly dirty joke apparently going over his head.
“I’d fucking kill him for taking your body so intimately and convincing you that it meant nothing.”
You chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss to his neck. He hummed, feeling the soft fabric of your dress beneath his fingertips. He was so thankful that you had chosen him. Lucky was the understatement of the century.
~^*^~
Your mother continued to look out of the window every minute or so, anticipating your arrival. After most adamantly demanding that you bring the gentleman you had been living with, she was at a peaked curiosity. Was he truly so much older than you? And was he as handsome as her friends made out?
He turned out to be definitely rich, pulling up in a sparkling Jaguar. She almost squealed in anticipation - much like a teenager - and the tray of appetisers she had been holding flew up into the air.
Your father grumbled at the commotion and apologised to the men he had been speaking to. He explained that your mother was on edge, awaiting to see what her daughter was about to drag into the house.
The aura that swept the house when you and Dracula entered seemed to affect every guest present, and all eyes were suddenly on you.
“[First]!” She greeted lovingly, pretending she hadn’t been waiting for the last 45 minutes by th window.
“Hi mother,” you greeted, letting her pull you into a brief hug. Her eyes wandered past you and to the tall gentleman standing just at the step of the door, smiling sheepishly, “it’s alright, love. You can come in.”
Your wicked eyes sent him a mischevuous look. He frowned, knowing that you were internally laughing at him still not entering without an invitation. Would your parents mind so much if he spanked you in front of them?
“And, my, who is this... gentleman?” She breathed, clearly impressed by his face, but unimpressed at his presence with you.
“This is-“
“Count Dracula.” He cut your off, “it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. [Last].” He smiled at her, taking her hand and briefly kissing her knuckles, “[First] has told me so much about what an amazing woman you are.” She couldn’t help but laugh airily at the compliment.
“Well, I’ve done my best for my daughter. Come on through, both of you. [First], your father is just by the kitchen.”
She rushed past you, pushing past people as quickly as she could to make her way back to the kitchen. That gossip! Your eyes filtered through the people until you found your father talking to a few people. Intertwining your fingers with Dracula’s, you began to pull him into the living room when you were stopped by a man you didn’t recognise.
“What an honour it is, Count Dracula! My name is Richard Johnson, I own Johnson and Moore, a law company under your own. I was wondering when I’d finally meet the famous Dracula.” You turned to look at Dracula, who was smiling a little shyly.
“Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you as well, however as you can see I’m with-“
“No, it’s okay!” You quickly interjected, “I better go say hello to my dad before he feels rejected. I’ll let you two businessmen talk.” You winked at the vampire before scampering off towards your father.
“What a beautiful little thing she is!” Richard eyed you as you left, “you’ve got to tell me how you got such a young one.” He laughed.
“Well, I could tell you,” Dracula began with a fake smile, “but I’d have to kill you afterwards.”
Neither of them realised that you had heard and you grinned at Dracula’s words.
Your arms snaked around your father’s waist as you rested your head on his shoulder. He continued his sentence to the two men he was engaged in conversation with. When he had finished, he took a sip from his drink and then manuvered his head to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Here she is, my little detective!” He laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “you wouldn’t believe this kid used to poop in our garden drain, would you?”
“Do you have to say that to everyone you introduce me to?” You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning.
“Baby, I’m going to bring it up at your wedding and tell all of my grandbabies.” The two men standing opposite from you laughed at his words.
“I’ve read some of your journals, [First], you’ve grown into a very intelligent and respectable young woman.” You pulled yourself from your father as he spoke to you, smiling shyly.
“Thank you, I’ve worked hard to be where I am today.”
“Yes, didn’t you spent quite some time in Yorkshire?” The other man began, “your father was telling us you were part of some coverup story within the Jonathan Harker Foundation.”
“Well, that’s simply not true. And even if it were, I couldn’t tell you, Pauly.” You grinned, clearly teasing him.
“Awe, come on, [First]! Don’t you remember when I used to dress up as Santa and bring you all those wonderful presents?”
“Well, I suppose I could tell you,” you began, “but I’d have to kill you afterwards.”
Your eyes moved across the other side of the room and locked with your favourite pair in the entire world. He was smirking right back at you. ‘Touche’ he mouthed at you. His eyes sparkled as they continuously washed over you. Wait... was he really eye fucking you in a room full of people?! Your father’s conversation ended quickly after that and he was quick to pull you into the corner to have a private word with you.
“You, young lady, are driving your mother up the wall with the gentleman you’ve been seeing, you know that don’t you?” He was unable to hold back his amusement.
“Of course I know that.” You laughed.
“Then go and talk to her!” He laughed. Clearly he was already growing drunk.
“Alrighty. Don’t drink too much, okay?” You patted his arm, side stepping to get ready to make your way to the kitchen.
“I can’t promise you anything, buttonnose.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek and sent you on your way to the kitchen.
Before you even made your way in, you could hear all of the wives whispering and giggling. Did they seriously not realise that they were not still school girls? You rolled your eyes and made your way in.
Your mother jumped at your intrusion and you were soon bombarded in compliments on how pretty you’d gotten, how tall you’d grown, congratulations on your work, and question upon question about Dracula and intimate details of your plans. Mostly marriage and children.
Two hours later and you found yourself by your mother’s side. Dracula had blended in well, making conversation with almost everyone that approached him. You had barely seen him, but your mother had been talking quite a bit to him. Standing washing your hands after eating a few greasy little bites, she came to your aide.
You were dreading whatever she had to say and prayed that this would be a short and sweet conversation. She was obsessed with you getting into a relationship and you had finally found someone that made you happy and she wasn’t satisfied.
“[First],” she began warily, “Dracula seems... nice...”
“He is.” You answered stoically.
“When did you meet him?”
“When I was working in Whitby last year.” You grasped a tea towel, beginning to dry your hands.
“Is he a detective like you?”
“First of all, I am not a detective - I’m a Supervisory Special Agent specialising in criminology. Secondly, he is not a detective and you would know from all of your eavesdropping that he is a businessman.”
“Don’t accuse your own mother of eavesdropping!” She scolded.
“Weren’t you?” You challenged.
“I just... I just think you’ve made a mistake, [First]. He’s your father’s age for crying out loud!” She hissed, clearly not wanting the other wives to hear such an embarrassing conversation.
Silly woman. He’s ten times your father’s age.
You scoffed at her words.
“What, so because he’s a little older than me I can’t be with him?”
“No, I’m not saying that I’m just-... is he your sugar daddy?!” She suddenly gasped.
“No mother!” You exclaimed.
“I had to ask, sorry.”
“What, did Brenda tell you that? Or maybe Daphne? When will you all grow up and stop gossiping over your own children?!” She went quiet.
“...Will you at least consider Mark...?”
You groaned, having to throw the tea towel down and leave the room. Your face was flushed with anger and when you looked back up, your jaw hit the ground.
“Jack?”
~^taglist^~
@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026
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judediangelo75 · 3 years
Text
Little Do You Know...
Hi everyone! So this is gonna be a bit of a songfic featuring Talith (Talbott x Judith). This is gonna be a backstory of when Judith (and her best friend Brooke) ran away from Hogwarts. As I mentioned in one of my story posts, How Talbott Dropped the Question, Judith went back to her homeland, while pregnant with Talbott’s son, Bakari. This is what happened during that time.
There was gonna be implied sexual content, just as a warning.
Without further ado, here’s “Little Do You Know...” ( and the song that https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GP4okspbfMM)
--------------------------------
(Judith Harris) (Age: 17, close to 18)
(WARNING: IMPLICATION TO SEXUAL THEMES)
I woke up just moments before my sensitive ears picked up the soft whimpers of Bakari from his nursery.
'Must be time for his late night snack...' I mused quietly as I yawned quietly. I made a move to get up, but an arm tightened around my midsection, pulling me into a warm solid chest. The young man nuzzled my neck, breathing me in before settling again. I felt my cheeks warm a bit and the feeling of guilt creep from the bottom of my heart.
'He doesn't deserve this...'
Little do you know,
How I'm breaking while you fall asleep...
Little do you know,
That I'm still haunted by the memory...
Little do you know,
I'm trying to pick myself up, piece by piece...
Little do you know,
I need a little more time...
I carefully slipped out of Talbott's hold and rolled out of bed. Slipping on a black silk robe that stopped mid-thigh, I quietly exited the room to head to our son's nursery.
Our son...
Talbott and I have been together since we 16, a little after the whole Valentine's Day fiasco. I've fell for the Ravenclaw wizard even awhile before that. What started off as an innocent "He's cute" turned into "I fancy him", which then turned into "I love him."
Crazy how feelings work.
One of things I loved about him was how passionate he was in anything he was interested in.
His studies.
Herbology.
Transfiguration.
Poetry.
Love.
I bit my lip as my thoughts linger on the last one. Although he may not look it, Talbott is actually a very passionate lover. I should know...
I mentally shook my head as I enter my baby's room, his whimpers growing a bit louder as he slowly woke up. Rushing over to the crib, I picked up the little boy.
"Shhh, it's okay my love. Mama's here," I quietly cooed. I couldn't help to admire the young babe.
He came out with a full head of hair, which surprised the hell out of me. Though he inherited my dark brown hair color, he still inherited that gradient effect from his father. The tuft of medium to light brown hair rested on his forehead. His unfocused red eyes gazed up at me with tiny tears in the corners of them. His skin color seem to lean towards Talbott's the older he gets. Though, the shape of his eyes, nose, mouth and face resembled mine. The perfect mixed of Talbott and I embodied in this little being...
Bakari's whimpers quietly died down a little when I held him to my chest, his little hand fisting the material of my robe. I quietly chuckled at the babe's impatience. I walked over the rocking chair in the room, settling in for what might be another long feeding session. I shifted my robe and bra aside, gently guiding Bakari to my nipple.
The babe latched on and began to suckle as I leaned back and closed my eyes. Even though I've been doing this since he's been born, the sensation still feels strange. But a good strange...
Although I'll never regret having this little miracle in my arms, I regret the time I had him...
Talbott and I have been intimate a few times prior to me becoming pregnant. Only difference I was actually smart about it and took a potion daily to act as a birth control. I slipped up thanks to a lot of stressors.
Merula.
Ben.
Rakepick.
R.
My brother.
My mother.
Classes and my studies.
Quidditch.
The final curse vault.
Tch, you name it.
I wasn't taking care of myself like I have been since the middle of 4th year. Talbott found out I was in the Hospital Wing after I passed out in Training Grounds with Brooke, who didn't hesitate to scold me once I woke up. Talbott spent a lot of time trying to take care of me whenever he had free time. I could help but to smile while he fussed over me, recalling the time he told me his mother was a Healer. He definitely picked up a few things from her.
When I got the okay from Madam Pomfrey, Talbott did everything he could to make sure I wasn't over stressed or overworked.
We were in his room one day, with him massaging the tension out of my shoulders from practice duels and being hunched over my books. I felt like jelly under his hands, leaning against his warm body with my eyes closed in bliss. With my hair up in a messy bun, my neck was exposed to his mouth. What started off as soft light kisses turned into gentle bites and sucking love bites into my skin. I turned around and kissed him heatedly.
Let's just say I was finally able to fully relax and rest for the first time in weeks...
But that was just the beginning...
Some time after our passionate time together in each other's embrace, I found myself face first the toilet, violently puking my guts out. At first I though it was probably a stomach bug aand visited Madam Pomfrey. I felt more than nervous when I saw the analyzing look she was giving me as I explained my alignment...
After a few questions (which spiked my nerves) and having to take a sample of my blood, Madam Pomfrey gently pulled me to the side so no one can hear us.
"You're pregnant, Miss Harris..."
My entire world just stopped at those two words. I remember shakily pressing a hand to my abdomen in disbelief. I quietly asked her how far was I. She said a few weeks, give or take. For weeks, I was pregnant with Talbott's child. I cried.
Out of fear.
Out of disbelief.
Out of happiness.
The Healer gave me a hug, calming my tears. I always was in the Hospital Wing one way or another, so I grew close to the older witch. And she was rather fond of me as well. Once I calmed down, she unfortunately had to drop a bombshell.
She had to inform my mother and the Headmaster. As a protocol.
I was okay with Dumbledore knowing.
My mother on the other hand...
I sighed, running my fingers through my son's hair.
I still remember the harsh sting and force of her slap when she visited me in Dumbledore's office. The throbbing feeling as I shakily touched my tender cheek as I gazed up at my mother from my sprawled position on the ground. The anger and disgust in her dark brown eyes. Her cutting words that sliced into me and left me to bleed.
"You bloody disgrace! You sorry excuse of witch! You were sent here to learn and keep your head down like an obedient, proper witch. Not spread your legs for the wizard population and endanger the students here! You never could do what you're told, can't you?! I should've aborted your sorry arse when I had the chance. Don't even think about coming back to my house, you whore. You're disowned and I never want to see your wretched face ever again! Do you understand me?!"
Dumbledore always seem to know I've had a very strained relationship with my mother. Especially since sightings of Brooke's and I's brothers sprang up again thanks to us freeing them. She wanted her baby boy to come home. But instead she had me. When she never wanted me...
The old wizard was shocked as he watched the woman send me one last scorching look before marching out of the office. I left curled up in a small ball, crying my eyes out and quietly whimpering for my Papa. Gods knows how long I remained on that floor. I remember the gentle hand on my shoulder and the soft coos of Fawkes as the phoenix nuzzled my hair, trying to soothe me. I didn't leave that room until I ran out of tears for the moment and I was presentable enough to leave. People talk and I don't want people trying to figure out why I looked like I was a mess.
I eventually got up and silently nodded my thanks to the Headmaster. His eyes were sad as he returned it. I petted the back of Fawkes' feathers before leaving. I kept my exterior emotionless until I reached my dorm. I placed a sound proof charm on my room before letting out a heart wrenching cry. I tore my entire room apart until I sat in the middle of the room, staring at nothing. And that's how my best friend found me.
Brooke hasn't seen me all day and heard that my mother came to visit. When she saw my unresponsive form in the mess that was now my room, she basically jumped over the rumble and held me. That's when the water works kicked in again and I cried in again in my best friend's arms. We were silent until I could compose myself. I quietly explained to her the whole situation.
My condition and my mother.
She was livid. She wanted to hunt her down so bad, I saw the rage in her eyes. But I quietly asked her to leave it be and to keep my condition a secret. She begrudgingly agreed, as long as I promised to make her the Godmother of my unborn child. I weakly chuckled and agreed. After cleaning my room, I carried on like nothing happened. No one knew about my condition but me, Brooke, and the staff at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout tend to fuss over me the most. They never want me doing anything to stress myself out, especially if I wanted to help them set up for class or clean up like I normally do. I often chuckled at them, saying I was fine, even though this pregnancy was a whole bitch and a half.
The morning sickness (thank goodness those passed after awhile).
Dizzy spells.
The sudden waves of fatigue.
The crazy intense cravings (I found myself in the Kitchens a lot for food, Pitts never complained. The old House Elf seem to care for me in a way, especially since my House founder provided the House Elves jobs at Hogwarts.)
The slight bump I had (I had to constantly wear my House robes since they were slightly bigger and hid the bump.)
The mood swings (I had to separate myself from a lot of our friends so I don't go from happy and chill to wanting to bash someone's head in or breaking out into tears in 2.5 seconds randomly.)
Talbott has his suspicions about me. We progressed rather far in our relationship. Where he was able to tell I was hiding something. Plus he noticed the slight weight I put on, though he never voiced this, I saw the curious look on his face. But he never questioned me because usually I would tell him, eventually. Though, how the hell do you tell someone that they're a father at the late age of 16 going on 17?
Lucky for me, I didn't have to.
More time passed and eventually, Brooke and I finally cracked. After she got attacked and lost her magic, and the pressure of the Curse Vaults (with Merula and Ben consisting reminding us) and the adults insisting we leave the Curse Vaults to them (especially me since I was literally carrying another human being inside me), we just couldn't take any more. We secretly made a plan to leave. Though not before leaving a goodbye to the young men we love. I spent one more night with him, getting him to go out with my on a impromptu trip to Hogsmeade and the forest. I spent as much time as I could with him because of the uncertainty of us seeing each other again. The next day, I skipped classes to prepare to leave. I silently cried as I wrote my note to Talbott, constantly having to wipe my eyes so I could see clearly. Brooke and I sneaked into their rooms when everyone was in Great Hall for dinner.
It was hard to leave the letter on his bed. Even harder to walk out of his room. The hardest of all was not even telling him about our unborn child...
But I had to. I didn't want to take him away from his life at Hogwarts. He aspired to become an Auror, to protect others from the Death Eaters, Dark Witches, and Dark Wizards. So they don't have to experience the same loss he did as a young child. He had dreams and I wanted him to be happy. I probably really was cursed. The fact that danger seems to follow me everywhere like a lost Crup puppy was ridiculous. And to tell him that he was gonna be a young teenage father? I would ruin his life before it could even begin. I can't be the girl he wants to be with...
He deserved better than a life with me...
Once we did what we needed to do, we grabbed our stuff and left Hogwarts, sparing one more glance at the grand castle before disappearing into the night.
Right away, we went into training. I tried to help Brooke hone and refine her skills as a werewolf. She was a bit worried about me since I was pregnant but I guaranteed her I was fine. I understood my body's limitations, and tried to take advantage of my lighter weight as much as possible. There were days where the babe in my womb would drain me of all my energy so I had to sit out or at least do the bare minimum of training for the day, which was instructing Brooke in archery.
Thanks to my constant drills by the time I was roughly 6 months, Brooke was an okay shot was much better at tracking and tapping into her werewolf side. I felt bad for being in such a state, especially since I feel like liability (I could still notch a bow and arrow and throw knifes, but was nowhere able to fight hand to hand if need be). I told Brooke that I wanted to go back home, where it was safe and I wouldn't be found. She agreed, especially since she wanted to find out more about her family. Taking the first Muggle flight to Barbados, I left Britain with a solemn goodbye.
I lived in my grandmother's old house, which was surprisingly since up and in fairly good condition. Some of the old neighbors from my childhood recognized me and offered to help clean up the place so I can rest for the remainder of my pregnancy. I was thankful for them and felt amazing to not have worry about anything for once.
Until Bakari decided that he wanted out. Jeez, I would never forget those contractions for shit. I was just happy when the local midwives cleaned up my baby boy and handed him to me. The love and happiness I felt as I gazed down at that chubby face and unfocused red eyes was immense and overflowing. I called Brooke not too long afterwards so she can visit her godson.
She nearly bust down my front door, eager to meet little Bakari. She would openly coo in his little face, smiling whenever she made him laugh or reveal a gummy smile. She wouldn't stop going on how she was gonna spoil him and teach him all her mischievous ways as the young babe blinked up at her innocently. I would roll my eyes in exasperation but I chuckle nonetheless.
So how did Talbott end up finding out me, our son and where I was at? Simple, he told me, Hagrid. Brooke went back to Hogwarts to scope out everything and to visit Hagrid. We both loved the gentle half giant but I warned her ass that the man can't keep a secret for shit. But she insisted it will be fine.
What was the biggest what the actual fuck of the century: Our brothers came back to Hogwarts to check in on us from trying to find Rakepick. Once they realize neither of us were at Hogwarts anymore, they went up to our friends and demanded answers. Bill and Talbott didn't take this too well, seeing how them leaving us impacted our personalities. Bill and Talbott were ready to fight them. That's when Dumbledore and Hagrid had to put a stop to it before it can get out of hand.
Jamal was rather distraught and angry, wanting to know where I was. Dumbledore tried to reason with him but he was too emotional to really listen. Hagrid meant to mumble to himself that he hoped Bakari inherited Talbott's sense of calmness over my brother's emotional behavior in stressful situations. Of course, damn near everybody heard him.
My brother fell deathly silent and stared at Hagrid, who embarrassedly mumbled how he shouldn't have said that. Dumbledore simply sighed and asked Jamal and Talbott to join him in his office. Where he explained everything.
To say that when I found Jamal and Talbott on my doorstep shook me to my very core would be an understatement. I wanted to shut the door and pretended that I was just dreaming, but I knew better. I let them in and we had a talk. Jamal wasn't pleased to find out that I got pregnant so early, especially who the father was (Jamal wasn't all that impressed with Talbott, thinking he wasn't good enough for me). I did tell him if he talked shit about me, Talbott, or our son, I would throw his ass out the window. I gave zero fucks if I gave birth three months prior and was still recovering, I would not let my "family" degrade me twice.
After proving I can do physical harm to him (clocked him right in the jaw, sent him flying into a wall) and not feel bad for it, Jamal did admit that he was just happy to know I was safe and healthy. And he seem to adore his nephew, even when he spat up milk on him (which I found HILARIOUS). As Jamal played with Bakari, Talbott pulled me aside into my bedroom.
"Why," Talbott quietly asked. I bit my lip as I look into those hurt eyes.
"It's better this way," I whispered. Talbott glared at me, not liking that answer.
"Better this way? For who," he snapped, his eyes growing misty with tears. I remained silent, looking at a nearby wall.
"Judith, look at me." I stubbornly ignored him, which he didn't like at all. A low growl escaped the back of his throat as he firmly grasped my chin so I look into those beautiful red eyes I fell in love with.
"Judith, answer me!" I clenched my eyes shut and roughly shoved him back.
"For you, okay! This is better for you," I hissed. Hot tears burned my eyes, clouding my vision of Talbott's shocked expression. I walked to the dresser, not wanting him to see me cry.
"I did this for you, Talbott. Okay? You already have so much going for you. You're one of the top students at school. You have dreams... goals... a future... I had to face the possibility of being expelled like my brother ever since I even came to Hogwarts when I wanted to keep my head down. I practically scream 'DANGER'. You were right to be weary of me from the beginning. Being around me would only bring you trouble, worry and pain... To suddenly trap you with a baby because I was stupid enough not to take my potions? That's unfair to you. You deserve better than that... than me..." I choked on a sob as my body shook from the force of my sadness. I never heard Talbott come up from behind me.
I gasped when I was swiftly grabbed and turned around by my waist. I didn't have time to breathe when a pair of lips claimed my own. I felt my heart thundering in my chest as I stared at Talbott who picked me up by the back of my thighs and placed me on the dresser. His lips were demanding and harsh as they moved against my soft, vulnerable ones, bruising them slightly. He ended the short but intense kiss, staring down at me.
"Let me decide what good for me..."
After that, Jamal stayed a few days to relish in our dad's homeland before leaving. He made a promise to visit soon and left Talbott a warning to take good care of me. Yes, Talbott ended up staying here in Barbados. He told me he had a personal talk with Dumbledore that he was leaving Hogwarts to stay here to be with me and our son.
That was over 6 months ago. And to this day, I still feel guilty.
I felt like an obligation, a responsibility that he had to take care of.
And I have a hard time forgiving myself for doing this to him...
Living together has been much harder than I think either of us expected. It was hard for me to find comfort in his arms like I used to without the guilt threatening to eat me alive. I constantly kept him at arms length, which he didn't like at all. Talbott gotten used to touching me in some way during our time at Hogwarts. In public, it would be us holding hands or and causal touch. In private, he liked to hold me a lot. His favorite way of greeting me was a hug from behind. This sudden cut off seemed to trigger him a little and become slightly clinger, especially in his sleep. And this wasn't technically easier for me either, I find it harder to stay away whenever he gets close.
Doesn't help with me being insecure about myself either. I literally gave birth roughly 9 months ago and it bloody shows. My hips ended up growing a few inches and the baby fat seem to cling onto me. Around my thighs, butt and stomach. The fact I breastfeed Bakari as made my chest full with milk and giving me all types of back issues. And let's not forget my new stretch marks around the areas I gained the most weight. I didn't care what I looked like before Talbott showed up, but with him here and knowing how he likes physical touch made me embarrassed and guilty all over again. I'm the mother of his child at 17. Not a happy reminder.
Then there were the arguments. Talbott wanted to talk about my time before Brooke and I left Hogwarts and I remained tight lipped about it. He knows talking about my feelings is one of the major things I was bad at. I find myself snapping at him to leave it be, telling him that he was a hypocrite on wanting his own privacy when he can't seem to respect my own. I knew my anger was misplaced but I found it difficult to apologize. I found myself in a neverending hole of guilt.
I want to apologize.
To talk to him.
To cry in front him.
To hold him.
To be held by him.
To kiss him.
To surrender my scarred heart to him.
To love him.
Deeply.
Dearly.
Fiercely.
To the point, it was borderline terrifying.
But I can't allow myself that form of vulnerability. I was scared. Scared that he'll finally open his eyes and realize everything. That this was all a mistake. That he should've never left Hogwarts.
That he should've never met me.
If he were to suddenly were to up and leave one day, I wouldn't be mad. I would forgive him within a heartbeat.
But forgetting him, however...
Underneath it all,
I'm held captive by the hole inside...
I've been holding back,
For the fear that you might change your mind...
I'm ready to forgive you,
But forgetting is a harder fight...
Little do you know,
I need a little more time...
I sighed after Bakari finally latched off. I checked the time and chuckled. Nearly 40 minutes...
'Hungry little tike...' I mused as I readjusted my bra and robe. Grabbing a small cloth, I throw it over my shoulder and placed Bakari on my shoulder. Patting his back so he burp up any gas lingering in his little tummy. After a few minutes, I heard a few tiny burps and a yawn. I chuckled and cradled him in arms.
"Nice and full, huh," I asked. A little gurgle was my answer. I let out another soft chuckle before softly singing the song my father taught me. Bakari seems to sleep better whenever I sing to him, which reminds me of his father. I watched his droopy eyes slowly flutter close before falling asleep. Slowly, I rose from the rocking chair and placed him back into his crib. I gently brushed some of his hair from his forehead.
"Goodnight my little prince. Mama loves you," I whispered. I quietly left the room and paused. I wasn't fully ready to go back to bed...
Instead my feet lead me to the patio.
----------------------------
(Talbott Winger)
I'll wait... I'll wait,
I love you like you've never felt the pain, I'll wait...
I promise you don't have to feel afraid,
I'll wait...
The love you see right here stays,
So lay your head on me...
I turned what felt like the umpteenth time. I open my eyes to look at the empty side next me. The spot was faint from her warmth. A warmth I missed dearly...
I've been in the weird limbo of heaven and hell ever since I found about Judith... and our son.
I can't express what kind of gift that she has brought to my life. I understood what kind of trouble I could be tangled with associating myself with her. But there was no escaping the Cursed Children of Hogwarts.
Or Cupid's arrow for that matter...
I haven't loved anyone else outside my family, who were long gone. But it wasn't until I started getting closer to the girl with mystical gold eyes that I felt a different kind of love.
Something more intimate.
Intense.
Sweet.
Terrifying.
I never thought I would have a crush, given how anti-social I am. Nor did I expect said crush to return those feelings, given the way I am. But life has a funny way of proving you wrong. I never thought I would even be in a relationship. I was so against becoming attached to anyone in fear of losing them. But the more I spend time with her, the harder I found it to stay away.
To the point I gave up trying.
Everything about her was captivating. I found myself loving every part of her, even the parts of her that she struggled to love herself. From her scars down to her cute kitten like sneeze.
I love her and wanted her to know that. Even though I was more so reserved, I still would try to express my feelings towards her. Because I know that she has her moments where she holds back from me. I wanted give her the same love she gave me.
A love where it feels like she was never left alone...
A love where it feels like she's never been in pain...
A love that tells her that I'll wait for her until she's ready...
Little do you know,
I know you're hurt while I'm sound asleep...
Little do you know,
All my mistakes are slowly drowning me,
Little do you know,
I'm trying to make it better, piece by piece...
Little do you know,
I, I love you till the sun dies...
Sighing softly, I got out of bed and slipped on some pajama shorts. Glancing over to my side of the bed, I slipped on the ring Judith gave to me on Valentine's Day before heading over to the nursery.
Quietly I opened the door and frowned to see no signs of the girl. I crept inside and made my way over to the crib. I smiled at the sleeping babe.
When Dumbledore told me that Judith was pregnant with my child, I was completely speechless.
"Professor Dumbledore, what did Hagrid mean by 'I hope her son is more like me rather than Jamal?'," I asked when we were inside the Headmaster's office. Jamal had yet to say a word ever since then, possessing a far way look in his gold eyes.
'The same eyes as Judith...' I mused quietly to myself, fiddling with the ring around my finger. I missed the girl dearly. I was hurt and heartbroken when I read the girl's letter. She's all I have, she should knew that anywhere she would go, I'll follow. No questions asked.
The old wizard sighed, bringing me back from my thoughts.
"I'm sure you already have a decent guess by what Hagrid means by that, Mr. Winger. But I'll explain. Before Miss Brown and Miss Harris disappeared, Miss Harris has been feeling ill for awhile. She went to report this to Madam Pomfrey, who had her suspicions but had to run a test to be sure. The test came out to be positive... Miss Harris was pregnant..." I felt everything stop for a few moments. Judith was pregnant...
With my baby?
"WHAT?! YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT SHE NOT ONLY DISAPPEARED BUT SHE'S PREGNANT?!" I almost forgot Jamal was even here. Dumbledore let out another sigh.
"Yes, Mr. Harris. Your sister was indeed pregnant... with Mr. Winger's child." Sharp gold eyes glared at me, fury dancing in them.
"You were the one who deflowered my baby sister?! I outta-"
"Enough."  The short command from Dumbledore force the hotheaded wizard to back down.
"I understand you're deeply worried about her, Mr. Harris but hurting the father of her child is not going to bring her back," the Headmaster advised. The young man grumbled under his breath, sparing me a side eye. I resisted the urge to roll my own. Granted, this isn't the greatest first impression I wanted to give when first meeting Judith's family but from what I can understand so far, she doesn't have the greatest relationships with them. At least with the ones who are still alive.
"How come she couldn't just stay with our mother," Jamal asked. I was rather curious about that too. Judith rarely spoke of her mother. Maybe a memory with her and her brother but not much else...
"Your mother, Jamal, disowned her." We both froze. What...?
"D-d-disown?! Our mother wouldn't-"
"She would and she did," Dumbledore stated coldly. I felt my chest ache. So Judith really did have hardly anyone left...
And part of that is my fault...
"Do you know where she is," I asked. Dumbledore sighed and shook his head.
"I... I think I do..." I swiftly turned to Jamal, eager to find her.
"It's a long shot that she'll be there," he warned. I stared him dead the eye.
"I'll take whatever chance there is." Jamal seemed pleased with this answer, saying we'll leave by sunrise before exiting the room. I turned to Dumbledore.
"Professor Dumbledore, there something I wish to talk to you about before I go..."
I pulled out of the memory thanks to my son's sneeze. I chuckled, playing with tuft of hair the resembled my own.
"Bless you, little one," I said softly. The little boy yawned before settling again. Never would I thought to have a child so soon...
But I love the boy just like I love his mother. Sparing one last glance at the sleeping babe, I left his room. If she's not in Bakari's room, then she must be in the patio out back...
With that destination in mind, I made my way start to the sliding door that led to the backyard of Judith's grandmother's old home. Sure enough, I saw her form leaning against the gate lead out into the backyard. Stepping outside, I came up behind her. I didn't hesitate to wrap my arms around the young woman, pulling her against me. I nuzzled her hair, taking in the sweet scent. Judith wriggled in my arms.
"Talbott-"
"Judith, please. Stop running from me," I whispered, tightening my hold on the young woman. I pulled her with me to the small couch that was there. I sat down, pulling her into my lap. Brushing her hair to the side, I nuzzled the soft skin of her neck while squeezing her close.
Whenever I do get the chance to hold or touch her, I couldn't help to notice her post pregnancy body. Her hips did grew a few inches and she gained more weight in the lower half of her body and in her stomach. I find that my hands tend to gravitate to those areas more, enjoying the softness of her skin and curves. The biggest give away would be the stretch marks on her belly...
"Talbott, must you really touch me there," she whined, swatting my hands again from her stomach. Part of me wanted to pout. I was deprived of her love and affection for months since she disappeared. I was robbed of one of my greatest comforts in this cold world. I'm tired of being denied.
"What's wrong with me touching you? You never complained before," I challenged with a glare. She returned it but her blush ruined any chances of her looking intimidating.
"Well I do now. Not when I look like this..." I frowned.
"Like you were pregnant?" Her blush grew worse as I leaned in and started kissing her cheek.
"Like you were pregnant with my child?" I purred in her ear. I'm not above admitting that I had a possessive streak when it came to her. She is a very lovely woman, any man would be lucky to have her and gain her affections. I was jealous of Andre at first, seeing how much time they spend together and how they went to the Celestial Ball when I chose not to go. Andre liked her more as a friend and part of me thought she saw him the same way. Hearing her admit that she never saw him that way and she only had eyes for me eased that jealousy.
She owned my heart, and always will. She was mine just as much I was hers. Knowing that she carried and delivered my child, watching her take care of him stroked the possessive side of me. She was the perfect mother for our son...
"Talbott..." the soft gasp interrupted my train of the thought. I seem to move without thinking as I found myself kissing on her neck. I pulled away to look at her. Her sweet face was flushed, her gold eyes reflecting her hesitation and uncertainty. I sighed, reigning my desire for the young woman in my lap.
"Judith... we really need to talk... I miss you so much, little bird," I whispered against her neck. I felt her breath hitch in her throat.
"You..." she trailed off. I pulled away, just enough to look into her gold eyes.
"Judith, I know you feel guilty about everything that led us to this point. But please listen and understand that I feel the same way. I ended up getting you pregnant with Bakari, which led to your own mother disowning you. When you already barely had anyone to lean on. I should've noticed something sooner, so you wouldn't have to suffer alone. Where you didn't have to feel like you were alone. I love you and want to be with you... always," I said. Tears brimmed in those pretty eyes of hers.
I'll wait, just wait,
I love you like I've never felt the pain, just wait...
I love you like I've never been afraid, just wait,
Our love we see right here stays, so lay your head on me...
"Oh Talbott... I'm so sorry," she whimpered. I hugged her tight, tucking her head underneath my chin. I quietly shushed her as she cried, running one of my hands through her long strands.
"I never wanted you to believe that this was your fault. I didn't want to trouble you further. Even when you got here. Parenthood isn't easy as I come to learn and I didn't want to burden you with a child. I love you too much to do that to you. So when you came and said you were staying, I hated myself. I felt like I made you walk away from a potential future that'll bring some good in the world. Like you had to come and be with me because of Bakari. I was scared... hell I'm still am. That'll you'll one day wake up and realize being with me is a massive mistake," Judith whispered. I felt my chest tighten as she aired out her grievances. I've learned that she doesn't like speaking about her feelings or emotions, why I can never stay mad at her when she snaps at me. I'll be frustrated, yes, but I can never stay mad.
"Darling, look at me..." I felt her flinch, but she came out of her little hiding spot. I noticed the little tear streaks on her cheeks.
"I could never look at our relationship as a mistake. Ever since I lost my parents, I thought I'll never experience another good thing in life again. I thought that for a long time...until I met you. You gave me one of the biggest blessings I've ever had in my life. Someone to love. Someone to trust. Someone to rely on. Someone to look out for and take care of. You gave me you. Everything about you is beautiful to me. And I love you despite everything that you've been through. I would never want to leave you. Anywhere you go, I would follow. We don't have to be alone anymore. Please let me back into your heart, little bird. I miss you... I miss us. You can depend on me," I pleaded with her. I wanted her to hear me, really hear me. Her eyes were still misty with tears but a small smile tugged on her lips.
"Oh Talbott... I miss us too. And... thank you... for being patient with me. I know I didn't make it easy for you... I love you," she whispered, our eyes locking. I smiled.
"I love you too, darling," I said, pecking her lips. I felt her purse her lips against my own before I pulled away. She pouted and wrapped her arms around my neck.
"Talbott..." I shivered at the sound of her voice. Low with a husky edge. I squeezed her closer, leaning in again. Our lips met for another kiss and I was pleased when the young woman kissed me back. The kiss was slow but spoke of an underlying desire for each other. I felt one of her hands tangle in my hair, it's twin slipping under my white tank top. I groaned against her soft mouth. My arms snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against me. She let out a soft hum at my unspoken need to have her as close as possible. The kiss ended with a soft smack.
Her gold eyes held a seductive spark, threatening to set me ablaze from the inside out. Without another word, I picked up her bridal style and heading back inside. Reaching the bedroom, I carefully laid her down against the mattress. My hands found the curve of her hips while my lips reacquainted themselves with the sensitive skin of her neck.
"You sure you want to do this," I mumbled against her neck. Judith's body shivered as my cool breath ghosted over her warm skin.
"I'm positive, Talbott... please, make love to me..." was her soft plea. I pulled away from her neck to look into that angelic face.
"I'm right here, darling. I'll give you what you need," I said softly before capturing those sweet lips in another kiss. Judith's arms wrapped around my neck as she leaned back, pulling me on top her soft body. Her thighs cradling my hips, pulling me even closer. I shuddered when I felt her bite my lower lip, tugging on the flesh teasingly.
Fuck.
My impatient hands found the sash of her robe, undoing the knot and slipping the silk material from her body. I broke the kiss, my eyes drank in the sight of her. Every dip, every curve, every scar, every mark.
Beautiful. Every bloody inch of her. Just beautiful.
And all mine.
I took my time making good on those two claims.
I took my time to worship her. Caressing her soft skin, leaving loving kisses in places she felt the most insecure, whispering soft words of adoration and praise into her skin, tracing every mark with loving attention...
But that didn't mean I held back my desire. Sucking love bites into delicate skin of her neck, lower stomach and inner thighs, taking my time in removing what's left of her underwear, teasing her sweet spots and listening to her needy little moans for more, and my favorite: making her fall apart under my teasing mouth and tongue. Judith was a woman who prefers to keep herself and emotions in check. Watching with red hooded eyes as she wriggles and squirms against the sheets, biting her kiss swollen lip to keep her from vocalizing her evident pleasure, and finally locking eyes with me as she rocks her hips against my lips before coming undone.
Her sweet cry of my name is one of most beautiful sounds I've ever heard. I left a lingering kiss on the little gem in between her legs before pulling myself up to kiss her. Despite her slightly spent state, she tugged down my pajama pants and boxers in one go. I chuckled at her eagerness.
That didn't last long when she set out to give me the same treatment. I felt my sanity slip inch by inch with every sensation on my body. Especially when I felt her lips wrap around me. Soft grunts and moans escaped my throat as she worked me just right. I had to push her off me, not wanting to finish so soon.
She understood and allowed me to lay her back, settling in between her thighs. She whimpered as I gently pushed in. Leaving kisses on her face, I continued until I bottomed out. Gods, nothing can compare to being connected with her on this intimate level...
After a few moments, she nodded her okay for me to continue. Rocking my hips against her, I slowly moved in and out. Her mouth fell open, letting out soft gasps and little moans. Her voice was hush, as if she was whispering a prayer.
Softly she urged me to give her more, squeezing my hips with her thighs. I groaned against her shoulder and rocked harder against her, still keeping the tempo slow. She moaned her approval, moving against me. I bit my lip, eyes rolling at the feeling of her squeezing around me.
Seconds later, I found myself on my back. Judith stared down me with heated eyes as she rolled her hips in circle. I cursed beneath my breath, setting my hands on her hips to encourage her to do it again. And she didn't disappoint.
The room was filled with sounds of our moans, quiet confessions of love and the creaking of her bed. I felt a pressure slowly begin to begin more and more as she rode me.
I tried to pull her off, warning her that I was close. But Judith grabbed my hands and pinned them to the sides of my head. She lowered herself until our faces were inches apart. Her gold eyes bright with desire and love. She lowered her mouth close to my ear, whispering to fill her and mark her as mine. Pleading in my ear, begging me to let go with her. She drew a shape I couldn't remember and I lost it. With her name on my lips in a heated gasp, I gripped her hands tightly as I grind up against her. Judith moaned my name in delight, pulling me into a sweet kiss.
Coming down from our high, the young woman crawled off me to snuggle against my chest. I ran a hand up and down her back as she rested her head over my heart.
"I love you, Talbott," she whispered in the dark. I let out a chuckle.
"I love you too, Judith," I said back. I pulled her back up so I look at her face, admiring her lovely features.
"Talbott, as much as I love having you here with me, I still want you to finish your education and live out your dream," she told me with a serious expression. I frowned.
"I'm not leaving you, little bird," I grounded out, squeezing her close.
"But-" I pressed a kiss on her lips, silencing her.
"I refuse to be without you again, Judith. I'd be damned..." Judith gazed up at me with a flushed face before sighing.
"I'm not gonna like this... but I'm willing to compromise," she offered. I rose a brow at her, waiting for her to continue.
"If you agree to go back to Hogwarts, I'll come back to Britain with you. But I'm not going back to the castle," she proposed. I thought about this for a few moments. It's been a few months but I'm sure I'll be able to catch up with everyone else and still graduate on time. And Judith will be with me...
"If we go back, I'll be keeping you up to date with your studies. Just because you're not in Hogwarts, doesn't mean you can't get a form of an education," I inserted. The girl groaned.
"Ughh, fine," she relented. I chuckled and kissed her forehead.
"We can work out more details in the morning, darling," I said as she let out a little yawn.
"Mmm... alright. Goodnight, Talbott. Thank you and I love you," she mumbled.
"I'll follow you to the ends of the Earth, little bird. Goodnight, and I love you too..."
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chaotictommy · 3 years
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Chapter II. Learning To Fall
Jimmy struggled a little, laughing despite of the growing feeling he was getting in the pit of his stomach. Johnny didn’t seem to notice the blush on his friend’s face and playfully started gently slapping his face “What you gonna man? What you gonna do? The enemy deserves,” “To be told that he’s very annoying? Eek! Johnny!” Johnny chuckled and kept going “No Mr. Jones, what does the enemy deserve?” “No mercy?” Johnny grinned “What should you do?” “Tell him to kindly get off me? It’s a good thing you’re not larger, because—” Johnny punched down and Jimmy caught his wrist “Wrong! What should you do?” Jimmy squiggled and laughed, bucking up to try and get Johnny off of him “Strike first,” Johnny pinned him lazily, faking a yawn “Can do this all day Mr. Jones... and how are you gonna strike?” Jimmy shot him a teasing smile which Johnny thought was cu— nope, no way “Really pathetically slow like a sloth, Sensei Lawrence?”
Johnny groaned and rolled his eyes, pressing harder, kinda liking the proximity between him and — No, he wasn’t like that... he wasn’t a f— Jimmy struggling a little against him, brought him back to reality “How are you gonna strike?” “Hard...” Johnny nodded in approval “And with?” Jimmy grinned, showing a small gap between his two front teeth, Johnny had never noticed before “A really long stick... joking... No mercy... Johnny please let me up? Please? Johnny man...” Johnny shook his head gently “Not till I teach you how to get out of someone’s grip when they’ve got you head locked,” Jimmy’s eyes widened, knowing what was coming and disliking the smirk that came over Johnny’s lips “Oh Johnny no... ohhh ho ho, we aren’t going to — Johnny Lawrence!“ Johnny shrugged and moved forward, turning it into a slap fight between him and his friend “No mercy man,” he was about to say something else, but was cut off by Jimmy’s yelp of surprise as Johnny pulled him closer and down into a head lock.
"And then you'd?" Jimmy gave his friend a playful smirk "Knee you in the balls?" Johnny chuckled, releasing Jimmy from the head lock "No, even though that could work, nice thinking, but please don't?" He pressed Jimmy back to the ground and the tattered carpet and slammed his arms down over his head, holding them there in an iron grip and using the strength and weight of his body to lock Jimmy down against the floor, rolling his hips a little into a better position “Okay, now let’s see if you remember what I taught you... so what is the fir—“ he stopped suddenly, eyes flashing open in a wide eyed look, confusion turning to realisation, surprise, and embarrassment as Jimmy leaned up and pressed his lips to the blondes, in what was the most tentative and tender kiss of the century.
Johnny couldn’t, HE COULDN’T... Sid would... he couldn’t think, registered only two things, before he harshly pushed the brunette away, before loosening his grip on the others collar, suddenly pulling him back in before he forced himself to let him go, harsh angry words he didn’t mean, leaving him in a split second. And in that split second, he knew without a doubt he had made the worst mistake of his life, because Jimmy‘s face flickered through ten stages of surprise till it landed on a type of mortified grief and he slammed up off the floor and ran out of the room looking like he was doomed. He hardly managed to get on his bike before taking a bad fall.
Johnny was there in an instant, but was shoved half heartedly away as the brunette rode off at a hurried pace, not letting Johnny see the hurt he was hiding just under the surface. When he rode off, Johnny sunk into his chair and polished off his beer, thinking about what he should do. Had that actually happened? Did he like it? No, NO, he couldn’t... it wasn’t a hot babe, it was his friend, a male friend at that... so what was this feeling? Repressed feelings started to leak out from under the calm persona he was playing... he sighed, sometimes it felt like he was playing anyone but himself.
He decided that the best thing to do was ignore it... yeah, that’s right... so Johnny did just that, but it wasn’t that easy and he suddenly found himself not only ignoring the situation, but found himself ignoring his friend as well. A week into actively rushing out of classrooms and avoiding each other at all costs, Bobby started to ask questions.
“You guy’s fight or something, man?” Johnny rolled his eyes as he slammed the tray down at one of the school tables “No man, we didn’t fight or anything, but if you keep asking stupid questions there is going to be a fight, got it?” Bobby put up his hands in defeat “Alright alright man, just wanted to see if you were okay, you’re my best friend and I worry about you some times,” he smiled awkwardly at Johnny before looking away.
Tommy, Dutch, and Jimmy walked over, the bleached blonde and the grinning from ear to ear Tommy, basically frog marching the quiet brunette over “Found this kid at a different table, like he’s embarrassed to sit with us or something,” Tommy muttered, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes “you sit down right here JD,” he stated, affectionately using Jimmy’s first initials, which made Jimmy chuckle slightly “Tommy, you know I don’t like it when you call me that, it’s like me calling you Thomas,” he sat down directly opposite Johnny and made eye contact with the blonde “Hi...” Johnny bit his lip “Hey,” “Hey, now that you guy’s have the greetings down, could you both stop eye fucking each other? It’s making me sick, like it’s weirding me out...” Dutch stated, causing both Jimmy and Johnny to break eye contact as if they’d been shocked by an electric field.
“We weren’t eye fucking, man, cut it out,” Johnny stated before he swept Dutch’s legs from under him “Honestly, firstly, Jimmy’s cute in a kind of boy next door, I’ll bring her back at eight, sir, goody toe shoes way, but he isn’t my type, I like Hot babes, first off, he isn’t a chick, doesn’t have the right stuff,” he paused for a moment and chuckled “And second, I’d never even think about him in that way because I’m not a fa— oh fuck there’s that worm,” he stared over at the other table where Ali and LaRusso had just sat down at, glaring over at them.
“Just leave it Johnny, she’s old news anyway,” Bobby stated and patted his best friend’s shoulder gently and reassuringly “Honestly you’ll find someone else, man, someone better,” he heard a muttered collection of approval from his other friends and glanced over at Jimmy who was staring at him, which was starting to bug. He leaned forward over the table “Do I have something on my face Jimmy?” “What? Oh oh, now that you mention it, yeah, yeah, you do, here, Lemme,” before Johnny had warning, Jimmy leaned over the table and dabbed at the apple pie crumbs that had stuck to Johnny’s lip.
Johnny felt a surge of — he looked up to find he’d reached out and was holding Jimmy’s hand, trapping his hand in his own while Jimmy’s fingers stopped in their gentle motion against his lip.
Jimmy’s eyes widened, looking like he was winning the ‘wide eyed Bambi’ contest “J—Johnny?” He said anxiously in a soft breath, fluttering his eyes open and closed before he met Johnny’s.
Johnny was having a ‘no thoughts, head empty, panic’ moment and just stared at the hand in his, the fingers caught against his lips. It took a good minute to pull his gaze away and slap Jimmy’s hand away as a cover to why he’d — no way... no fricking way.
Feelings he’d only had with Ali shot through him and in that second, it was his time to blush, he felt hot, sweaty palms dragging across his pant legs to wipe the sweat away hurriedly, the pit of his stomach felt — he just registered that he’d stood up, walked out, that Jimmy had followed, looking in silent confusion and distress at his friend.
Johnny then registered that he was talking, asking if he was alright or something, he didn’t hear, only knew that the next moment, and Johnny hardly knew how it happened, he’d tugged Jimmy by his collar into an abandoned classroom and pressed his lips on his, gripping his wrists so that he couldn’t pull away from it, but the moment between them was over as soon as it began.
When Johnny’s brain finally switched back on, he registered that the lips on his were no girl’s that he’d ever... he shoved his friend back, making it seem as if he was angry, furious, disgusted, he shoved Jimmy against the blackboard hard “You stay the hell away from me man, got it? I’m I’m not a fag, like you, sorry that you’re so in love with me, but I’m not some type of of freak like you...” Johnny knew everything he was saying was wrong... EVERYTHING... but was it out of fear or something else, he kept going “You ever do that again and I swear I’ll I’ll —,” he let him go and watched Jimmy processing everything before his eyes widened in regret and something close to revulsion and pain “J—Johnny?” There were footsteps in the hall and the classroom flooded with sound and students scraping seats across the ground, and just like that, Jimmy ran out of the room, dropping his school books as he went, not looking back as he knocked Tommy over on his way in.
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