#right now he's just chilling post-meal in his new home and i am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harufluff · 2 years

Text

✧°〜「 stray kids reaction to their s/o randomly wanting kisses from them 」〜°✧

warnings - none i don’t think. please let me know if there is

genre - fluffy goodness, angst for one of them, stray kids x gender neutral reader

requested - nope just for fun…

a/n - let’s get some stray kids on!! also thank you to everyone who saw my first few posts. ilyyyy <33333

✰ BANG CHAN ✰

you and chan were hanging out at home, just chilling out and getting some work done from the long week. chan was working on a new song while you were cleaning up the kitchen from your last meal. you started feeling deprived of you sweet boyfriends kisses.

you got up from you position and walked over to him. you sat on the floor right next to him. he didn't notice you sitting there staring up at him for a few second but when he did he was concerned. “y/n, baby what are you doing there? why are you sitting in the floor? did something happen? are you ok?!” his volume was increasing as he continued to get more worried “no no!! channie i just was some kisses”. you pouted lightly feeling a bit embarrassed at what you just said. “aww my baby wants kisses?? c’mere i’ll give you some kisses”. he picked you up and put you in his lap and started kissing you face all over making you giggle. “i love you” “i love you too”

ও LEE MINHO ও (lee know)

minho decided to take you on a date to the han river. you walked around, took in the view, i like the view right now enjoyed each other’s company, etc. it was about 5:00 when you decided it was getting a bit to cold for comfort, so you decided to go home. you hopped in the car and listened to music. to your dismay, most of the car ride was in silence.

when you finally got home, you walked into the again cold apartment, took your shoes off left them by the door and put you slippers on. while minho took his off, you decided to get what you wanted all day. so you gave him a back hug and leaned on him. “y-y/n! i’m gonna fall!” he screamed. you look your wait off him still not letting go of his waist. when he wasn’t falling anymore, he turned around in your arms and looked down at you. “what do you need, love”. you pursed your lips signifying what you wanted and he smiled and complied. “you want more? i’ll give you more. how about we make things interesting and i kiss you somewhere else?”.

☻ SEO CHANGBIN ☻

it was was past one am on a sunday night. you and your boyfriend both had work tomorrow. although it felt like that hardest thing ever to get up and out of bed. you looked over at your boyfriend who’s was looking at his phone. you stare at him with his cute circular glasses perching on his nose. “b-babe why are you looking at me like that?”.

you closed your eyes and snuggled closer to him. you leaned up and kissed his jaw making him blush. he turned you over and you lay on his chest. he kissed you face all over making you giggle.

⏤͟͟͞͞☆ HWANG HYUNJIN ⏤͟͟͞͞☆

you haven’t seen your boyfriend all week, due to his recent promotions. you have been texting and calling him as much as possible while he is away, but today, he finally is coming back home. he told you not to come pick him up just in case, so you wait at home with only your anticipation.

2:34

hyunjin: hey sweetheart. about to get on the plane. can’t wait to see you! i love you

y/n: hi jinnie. i’ll see you soon. love you too

5:46

y/n: you off the plane yet, love?

hyunjin: just got off. coming home now!!!!

y/n: yay!!

you wait in your apartment for hyunjin to come home until you hear it. the door opening. you see you tall boyfriend with a bright smile. “hi y/n”. you run up to him and jump up into his arms. he wraps his arm around you legs to keep you up. you kiss his face all over, and when you’re done he does the exact same to you. you spent the day in each others arms enjoying each others presence.

ꕤ HAN JISUNG ꕤ

September 14th. your boyfriends jisungs birthday. you planned out everything for his special day. you would let him sleep in. get up early and make him breakfast in bed. let him relax for a few hours before you go and see some friends and family. have a expensive dinner all together. come back home. and do whatever he wants from then on.

you woke up at 7:34, planning on getting up. but then what happened was someone’s arm was around your waist, not letting you from getting out of the bed. guess who’s arm that is? the one person who never wants you to get out of bed if he was the choice. you tried to wiggle out but nope. there was no budging until you heard.

“trying to leave me, baby” he asked you. you could tell there was a smirk on his face by his tone. “i have to go to the restroom”. no you don't “no you don't”. your eyes widened. “i found you list for today in your bag. i. know. everything”. he carried out the “everything” in a sing-songy tone. “ok then here’s my alternative”. you rolled over onto him and sad on his torso. he chuckled “what are you gonna do. kiss me?” “that’s the plan” you kissed him all over his face as he tried to get you to stop. but did it? nope.

☀︎ LEE FELIX ☼

felix decided to surprise you with a cute cat cafe date! you had a nice morning together and made a quick breakfast together just enjoying each others company.

what you didn’t know was that he was planning something. he finally got you to get out the door and to the park.

you sit under a large tree in the park, felix laying his head in your lap on the picnic blanket. you were reading a book to him and he was staring into your eyes lovingly and with so admiration.

"and that the end of chapter 11. how'd you like it?" you asked closing the book and putting it down next you his head. "I loved it darling. thanks for reading it" he smiled so brightly it was almost like the sun. you smiled back at him and leaned down and cupped his face with both hands and pecked his face. he definitely teased you the rest of the day.

♡ KIM SEUNGMIN ♡

ahh the late night. what a peaceful time to spend with your best friend, and new boyfriend. a few days ago seungmin confused that he had liked you for a long time now. you gladly returned his feelings.

now you were both laying in bed together, you head on his chest, watching 'nevertheless' together. he wanted to watch the office but he gave you the benefit of the doubt and you ended up watching a kdrama. he was happy enough letting you enjoy your night.

you looked up at him with doe eyes for some random reason that neither of you knew. but sadly he wasn't really paying attention and his eyes were on the tv screen. "wow. you really like this show dont you?" you giggled. he didn't look at you, knowing his face was bright red.

you kissed his jaw to see if he would look at you. but nope. he didn't. "fine be like that". you could feel him chuckle under your head, so what do you do? you leaned up on him and kissed all over his face. "yah! y-y/n! what are you doing?!" you kept doing it until he finally grabbed you face and kept it there so you stopped. you looked at him with a smirk while he glared at you. "stop". you pouted at him. he leaned in and gave you a long, passionate kiss. "I love you".

✧ YANG JEONGIN ✧ (i.n)

the most important meal of the day. breakfast. who’s making it? not you for once! you’re sweet boyfriend jeongin wanted to cook breakfast for you and hes making your favorite. cinnamon roles!!!!! yay!!!

you’re sitting on the counter acting like a child waiting for candy after dinner. you swing your legs back and fourth in anticipation.

“yah! y/n stop banging your legs agains the cabinets. you’ll break them”. you giggled and stoped, knowing he was just nagging out of love.

“jeonginieeeee. are they don’t yet?” you asked trying to look around him. “baby i havnt even started. i was cutting fruits” he told you and turned around coming closer to your sitting figure. “thank you. sorry for being annoying”.

he placed himself in between your legs. “you’re not being annoying. i’m glad you’re exited”. he gave you a smile of reassurance and kissed your noes. then he gave you a peck on your cheek, then your jaw, and finally your lips. “i love you”. “love you too”.

i hope you liked it! i forgot about this for a bit so it’s kinda random. ily!! thanks again!!

-🐥

#stray kids #stray kids bang chan #stray kids lee know #stray kids changbin #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids han #stray kids felix #stray kids seungmin #stray kids i.n #stray kids reactions #stray kids fluff

652 notes · View notes

multiples-fandomswontkillme · 3 years

Text

~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

#metal family #glam metal family #ches metal family #victoria metal family #chess metal family #dee metal family #heavy metal family #metal family glam #metal family victoria #metal family dee #metalfamily #metal family heavy

817 notes · View notes

delicrieux · 3 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand)

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it.

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge.

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too.

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view.

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”.

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute.

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets.

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance.

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?”

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over.

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae.

looking hot, her message read.

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse social media au #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #myso #make you say oh

2K notes · View notes

monsterenergysimp · 4 years

Text

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats super cool actually

i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

[link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #corpse husband x y/n #youtubers #caffeinated ramblings

1K notes · View notes

scuttle-buttle · 3 years

Text

Psychopathia Sexualis - Chapter 1

Sequel to The Interpretation of Dreams

Pairing: Modern AU Professor Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader

Summary: After experiencing a whirlwind enemies-turned-lovers romance with the imposing Professor Laszlo Kreizler, things have been wonderful for you. Your studies are coming along, work is enjoyable, and you are in a stable relationship with the man you believe to be the love of your life. Suddenly, everything threatens to come crashing down with the arrival of a face from the past. Will jealousy and desire consume you and destroy the love you finally found?

WC: 1116

Rated: M (will increase in later chapters)

Chapter Tags: domestic fluff, age difference, technically student/teacher relationship, mentions of daddy kinks & sugar daddies

🧠

Time passed quickly since the day you and the doctor finally admitted your feelings for each other. After that you were practically inseparable. You resumed work as his TA, only occasionally getting distracted, but the term was over after a few short weeks anyway. You had agreed to keep everything rather low key, so as not to encourage the wrath of the university. There was no actual rule against graduate students coupling with professors. Nevertheless, the practice was often frowned upon, and you didn’t want Laszlo to get in trouble. If anyone asked, you were just ‘friendly coworkers that sometimes ate meals together after work’. Most didn't pay attention to you anyway since you weren't friends with any underclassmen. Despite the fifteen year age difference you were both on the same page with the seriousness of the relationship. You knew how you felt about each other.

Sara and John found out right away. Because they had expected it to happen anyway there was no reason to hide it from them. The two were beyond happy for you. Whether Laszlo had noticed John slip a twenty dollar bill into Sara’s hand after the admission you’ll never know; at your raised brow John just shrugged and said that it was "about damn time". Bitsy was equally as delighted for you. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was also glad you would be out of the house more often so that she could spend time with her own boyfriend, Lucius.

Now, you are laying on your Laszlo’s bed scrolling through social media. The wintery weather outside his bedroom window gives you a chill despite the warmth of the fireplace he has burning. You were still not over just how nice his place was. It was in a rather upscale part of town and was roughly three times the size of your place. The townhouse style was similar in fashion to his office at the university - full of dark ornate wood and books and even a chandelier in the foyer. When you had asked how he afforded something like this in the heart of the city, he had just said a wealthy great uncle or other had left it in the family. With Laszlo being the only surviving member he inherited it.

Your love was getting himself ready in the bathroom. He had a department meeting to attend on campus in an hour. Tomorrow the new spring term would begin, and you were to resume your post as his TA. An errant thought crosses your mind as you admire the expensive looking painting hung on his wall.

“Laz?”

“Yes, Bärchen?” his response echoes in the large bathroom. You smile at the nickname, little bear. He’d given it to you because he said your presence was like that of a bear, ready to fight to protect herself and those she cared about.

“Are you my sugar daddy?” You can see his reflection in the mirror. He looks scandalized by the implications of your question.

“What would prompt you to ask that?” A blush forms on the apples of his cheeks.

“I mean think about it, I spend time with you - an older, exceedingly handsome, wealthy man - and in return I get orgasms and nice things.” Truth is, you are joking entirely, you know the relationship is conventional. You just like to watch him squirm with teasing like this.

He walks into the bedroom and picks his sweater off the bed next to you. “You're teasing me," he accuses with a grin. "I hardly think it can be considered as that sort of arrangement when you get paid because you are employed to work for me. It is merely happenstance that the other characteristics should parallel themselves to that of a…” he searches for the words, “financial benefactor.” You laugh at his unwillingness to say ‘sugar daddy’. “As for the orgasms…” he smirks and drops a kiss to your head.

He finishes dressing as you bury yourself under the duvet. “What are your plans while I’m detained?”

“I don’t know, figured I would just take it easy today. I need to be well rested for my first day at work tomorrow - I hear some pretty ruthless things about this German doctor I’m going to be working with.” You get off the bed and wrap your arms around Laszlo’s waist. “But I don't know, I think I’ll like the guy.” He leans in to give you a chaste kiss.

Checking his watch he sees that he needs to leave lest he be late for the meeting. “You’re welcome to stay here while I’m gone. It shouldn’t be more than an hour or two at most. Perhaps we will go to Delmonicos for dinner to celebrate the beginning of a new term.”

“Sounds great, daddy,” you wink. Normally you didn’t tease him this much, but you were in a playful mood.

He rolls his eyes. “Remind me why it is that I tolerate you?”

“‘Cause you love me,” you retort with a broad smile.

He brings your hand up, kissing the back of it as he turns to leave. Softly he whispers “Indeed I do.”

Laszlo fiddles with the pen in his hand. The upcoming semester was no different than previous ones. He had stopped taking ‘notes’ long ago as the head of the department continued to drone on. Laszlo would admit, the meeting had drawn on longer than anticipated and he had lost focus on the last few minutes. He would rather be at home in your company than here.

“Before we end the meeting I do have one last exciting announcement - many of you have been around long enough to remember, but we are pleased to be welcoming back Dr. Stratton as a visiting professor this semester!” the department head cheered. At the mention of a Dr. Stratton Laszlo perked up.

“Dr. Karen Stratton will be conducting outside research in the city, so I have asked that she grace us with her presence in teaching an elective on her speciality: sexual deviancy. Unfortunately, she is on a flight to the states as we speak, otherwise I know she would be here to greet you all herself.”

Karen was coming to New York?

The thought excited him, as he hadn’t seen her since he moved to the States four years ago. He and Karen had followed each other's work for years before meeting at a symposium in Vienna almost six years prior. The two remained close until he accepted the current position and fell out of touch.

Meeting over, Laszlo sent you a text to be ready for Delmonico’s when he got home. He had much to look forward to this term.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch

#Psychopathia Sexualis #the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader smut #modern laszlo kreizler #professor laszlo kreizler au #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler fanfic #scuttle-buttle

145 notes · View notes

angryschnauzer · 3 years

Text

Just What I Need

Summary; Working in a coffee shop you meet all sorts of people, but one customer in particular is always friendly, a local Detective from the nearby precinct. When one night he orders through a delivery service rather than in store, you get more than a tip when you make the delivery.

Fandom; Nomis (Night Hunter) Movie, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x Female Reader (no race or size specified)

Trope: Coffee Shop Meet Cute

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Flirting, Masturbation (male), Oral Sex (female recieving), unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Snowstorms.

I do not operate a tag list but instead please pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, then you’ll get an alert every time i post a new story. My Masterlist got too long and tumblr ate it, so all my past stories can also be found on my AO3, link HERE

A/N: I am considering expanding this story, depending if people like it and want me to? Let me know! <3

Just What I Need

Running the steam through the coffee machine you wiped the nozzle and smiled, there were just fifteen minutes until closing and the coffee shop you worked at was all but abandoned. Just your manager in the back counting the cash takings, and you were getting ready to box up the remaining muffins and cookies for the homeless shelter volunteer to collect dead on closing time.

You didn’t mind working the late shift, in fact you preferred it over the early shift opening up at 7am. The 7am crowd were grumpy, rude and always in a rush. The 7pm customers were tired, quiet, and always thankful for whatever caffeinated delights you provided them with.

The bell over the door rang as it opened and you looked up over the cups that were stacked on top of the machine, smiling at you saw the weary familiar face coming towards you;

“Good Evening Detective” you smiled as the beast of a man stood at the counter. His face softened as he saw you, his shoulders dropping a little as he relaxed.

“Hey… Sorry I’m in so late… you’re still open, right?”

You glanced at the clock;

“Another ten minutes. What can i get you?”

You watched as he cast his gaze up to the handwritten chalkboard menu’s above the counter;

“You got any Chilli left?”

“Sure, a couple of pots in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?”

He paused for a moment, as if trying to process the most technical question through his tired mind;

“No… yes… urghhh…” he took a deep breath; “Yeah… if you wouldn’t mind. I’m so fuckin’ tired i think I’d burn my apartment down if i tried to use the stove”

“Sure thing” you said with a smile as you got to work.

You made small talk as you prepared his order, pulling out the sides and condiments that came with the Chilli meal;

“Hey, you want a free muffin?”

“I’m not really into sweet things this late at night… what flavours you got?”

“How about an Apple Cinnamon? It’ll last overnight and still be fresh enough for breakfast”

The Detective smiled and nodded, pulling his wallet out as you finished bagging his order and rang it through for him, paying before you handed the bag to him;

“Have a good evening Detective”

As he turned he smiled at you;

“Call me Walter”

Three days later and you were on the late shift again. Again it was quiet, just the soft sound of tyres driving through slushy snow outside the only noise since around 6pm as just a couple of customers nursed steaming mugs of coffee from their window seats. You saw the big silver truck pull up in the space outside the coffeeshop and smiled, there was only one customer that drove a truck that huge and if you were being honest with yourself you were developing quite a crush on the curly haired Detective.

The moment he walked through the door you were smiling at him;

“Detective” you greeted him happily

“Didn’t i say to call me Walter last time i was here?”

“I like Detective, has a nice authority ring to it” you said with a wink; “What can i get you tonight?”

He paused for a moment, and as you reached for a notepad to jot down his order you missed the slight eyebrow raise and smirk at what you’d said before he cleared his throat;

“What have you got that i can eat in my office without facing the wrath of my Lieutenant for making the department stink?” he said with a grin as he leaned on the counter.

“I got Mozzarella and Pesto Subs? Tuna Melt?”

“Tuna is a no. The case isn’t going well, no fish. Gimme two Mozzarella Subs, and the largest black coffee you do”

“Sure thing. I’ll put a fresh pot on and get those sub’s on the press”

As you started to prepare his order his phone rang, and you couldn’t help but to listen in;

“... i’ll be like five minutes, i ain’t eaten all day… yeah ok… i’ll grab a box…”

He hung up and nodded to the cakes;

“Can i get a dozen muffins to go too? Got some grunts that are jealous that i got to escape the paperwork…”

“Sure thing”

Loading a box you picked what you knew were the best flavours and the freshest bakes;

“You know, we’re on Uber Eats. As much as its nice to see a friendly face, we can deliver to the Precinct”

“I… I have no idea what that is…”

“Its a food delivery app. Here, give me your phone…”

He unlocked it and set it down and rested his elbows on the counter as he watched;

“You go to the app store and just download it. Put in your location and it’ll bring up nearby eateries and you can search for us. It has all the standard menu on. Save your card details or link it to paypal, and its super easy, it even keeps you updated when the order is being prepared or its out for delivery”

He smiled as you pushed the phone back to him, locking the screen and pushing it back into his tight jeans;

“That’s all well and good, but then i wouldn’t get a chance to see my favourite coffee shop girl now, would i?”

You leaned forward and grinned, keeping your voice low;

“Order between 6.45 and 7pm and i snag the deliveries and do them on my way home”

Walter pushed the key into the lock, opening the door to his apartment and groaning as his body ached from tiredness. He should be elated, they caught the killer, the evidence was logged and couldn’t be disputed… and yet he was tired to his core. He’d been at his desk for longer than he’d been home, and when the Lieutenant had finally ordered him to go him a little after 5pm, it had still taken him the better part of an hour to finish up and leave the building.

Shutting the door behind him he felt his stomach rumble. He didn’t even need to look in the fridge to know it was completely empty, devoid of anything even vaguely edible. Checking his phone he saw that it was a little after 6.30pm and a thought fired across his mind, a smile forming. Fifteen minutes later he’d added far more to his online basket than he ever would have done in store, but for the first time he was able to see exactly what the creations were whereas in the store it was just a big pile of weird looking cakes and bakes. By 6.50pm he’d entered his card details and completed the order, the little update screen stating delivery would be by 7.30pm, just enough time to grab a shower, after all if it was you that would deliver, he should probably shower for the first time in 72 hours having rushed out of the apartment three mornings in a row due to new leads in the case.

The shower was far too enjoyable to rush, and after he’d washed his hair he started on his body, soaping over his chest and stomach before he paid extra attention to his dick. The anticipation of just the possibility of seeing you had him hard in seconds, and resting his head back against the tiled wall he quickly worked his hand over himself. He got lost in the moment, his mind taking him to places it shouldn’t, imagining his hand was yours, thinking about that time he saw you wearing over the over the knee knit socks and a skirt, how your ass was the perfect roundness, how your lips would look stretched around his dick… he came with a groan, thick white ropes falling to the shower floor as every ounce of stress left his body, his body shuddering when he was finally spent.

He was halfway through drying himself when he heard a knock at the door to his apartment, he eyes going wide when he saw it was 7.20pm;

“Fuck!”

He’d gotten carried away in the shower, and now he had to quickly rush to wrap a towel around his waist as a second knock came just as he reached the door, taking a deep breath before opening it and seeing you standing on the doorstep shivering in your padded coat, holding two takeout bags;

“Hey! Come in, come in, Jeez its freezing out there…”

Stepping into the apartment you couldn’t help but to look him up and down, attempting to hide your reaction as you could clearly see the distinct outline of something rather large bulging against the fabric of the fluffy white towel;

“Hey D-d-detective… Y-y-yeah it’s d-d-dropping fast out t-t-there… radio s-s-said it was g-g-gonna be a wind chill of minus t-t-twenty nine by eight o’clock… what a n-n-night to have my b-b-bike, huh?” You carefully dropped the two bags onto his coffee table as you spoke.

“You cycled here? On that pedal bike that is always chained up outside the coffee shop?” he asked incredulously, immediately forgetting his current state of undress. Shutting the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest; “You’re gonna stay here until you’re warmed up, i’m gonna make you a hot coffee and to warm you up from the inside too...”

“I ain’t gonna complain to that” you mumbled, your face pressed to his chest as you suddenly melted against him, warming your cheek against his firm muscles before turning your head to warm the other one and he let out a little gasp as your cold hands pressed against his sides.

“I also said for you to call me Walter…” he said quietly.

Pulling your head back you smiled at him;

“Thank you, Walter. You’re the best… though you’re the first delivery i’ve made where i’ve been greeted by someone in just a towel”

“Sorry, let me go put some clothes on…”

You tighten your grip around his waist;

“I wasn’t complaining…”

There was no poignant pause, no longing gazes, his lips met with yours and the kiss was fierce and hungry. He was pushing your coat down your arms and you reluctantly released your hold from his waist to let it drop to the floor, your sweater following soon after. Your lips met again and he was lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hand rested on your ass beneath your skirt as he walked you through the apartment before dropping you on his bed.

He was pulling your boots off your feet as you scrambled up the bed, your hands reaching for your thigh high socks when he suddenly caught your hands in his;

“Leave those on…”

You paused and grinned, before his lips met yours again and he was on top of you, his hands sliding up your skirt and bunching it around your waist as he pressed a trail of open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, before briefly lifting his head enough to pull your panties down your legs and toss them aside.

As he lowered his mouth to your core his gaze was intense, vivid blue shining through the dim light of his bedroom, his tongue pushing through your soaked petals and parting them as his beard brushed against your skin, heightening all of the sensations. Wrapping his arms around your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth, his tongue pushing into you and he started to fuck you with it whilst his bearded face tickled your clit. You were squealing and struggling to stay still, needing to anchor yourself on something as your hips bucked and your orgasm started to rapidly approach, your hands finding their way to his still wet hair and your fingers wrapping around the dark curls as he pressed a hand to your stomach to keep you still, growling at your taste on his tongue as he felt you shake as your orgasm took over.

When your body had finally stopped shaking Walter pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he sat back on his haunches, licking his lips where he could still taste you on them. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows you grinned at him, your gaze travelling down his thick chest to his stomach, and the trail of hair that led beneath the towel;

“You gonna show me what you’ve got under that towel, Detective?”

“You ready for what i’ve got under this towel darlin’?”

Pushing yourself up to sitting, your legs spread and bent either side of him, you hooked a finger into the towel and tugged, your eyes going wide when you saw his thick meaty cock standing hard and proud between his muscled thighs. Wrapping your hands around it you relished the feel of his silky skin as it moved over the hardness beneath, your mouth against his;

“I need you inside me”

“I… Fuck… this wasn’t planned… i haven’t got any protection…”

“I’m on birth control, I want to feel you bare…”

With a growl he surged forwards, capturing your lips with his own before he pushed you down onto the bed. Holding himself up on one hand he hooked your leg up over his hip, opening you like a winter blossom as he rubbed his dick through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your slick wetness. You whined at the teasing, the way his tip would brush against your hole only to move up to your clit;

“Walter, please… you promised to warm me up from the inside…”

He paused, a smirk on his face;

“You want me to get you a coffee? ‘Cos i can stop…”

“NO, i need your diiiiiiiiii….FUCK!” He’d pushed into you as you were mid sentence, the feeling of his meaty girth splitting your walls wide open overwhelming you and your eyes rolled back in their sockets; “OH MY GOD!”

“You like that Darlin? You feeling warmer now?”

“Please… please fuck me…”

He grinned and shifted his hips, grinding into you;

“Well, as you said please…”

You had been expecting him to pound you into the mattress, you had not been expecting for his technique to start off with sensual rolls of his hips, filling you tenderly and carefully whilst you got used to his size. It was almost overwhelming, completely surrounded as he caged you in with his massive arms, his chest pressed against your own as his hips worked utter magic. He pulled his legs wide apart, shifting to rest on your open hips and he got even deeper. Pressing kisses to your lips and neck he soon had you moaning and begging for release, every push and pull hitting just the right spots and you were almost embarrassingly wet from the arousal but it only added to the sensations.

You could feel yourself coming, the pleasure too much to hold back, and with a long low moan your body betrayed you and succumbed to the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your belly. Walter kept up the same speed of his thrusts but pushed a little harder, a little deeper with each one;

“Can feel you fluttering around me, you gonna cum for me? You look so fucking beautiful all fucked out and wanting, feel so fucking amazing…”

Just as your orgasm was at its peak he tensed and you could feel his cum flooding into you, the twitching of his dick as he filled you with his seed prolonging your high. When you had both finally finished you could feel his weight start to get heavier on top of you, before with a sudden and surprising act of nimble dexterity he rolled the pair of you over so you were laying atop of him, his softening dick slipping out and you felt the trickle of his seed flow out of you. With one massive hand he pulled the duvet across your bodies, and you snuggled up to his chest;

“That was the best tip ever” you giggled; “In fact definitely more than the tip”

At that moment you not only heard but felt his stomach growl, looking up and seeing him grin sheepishly as he spoke;

“I just want you to know this is not how i usually treat food deliveries… do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

Nodding you smiled;

“That'd be nice”

A while later you were cleaned up, Walter having given you one of his massive t-shirts to wear which came to the tops of your thighs. He’d grazed through half the contents of his order as you nibbled on a muffin, having eaten at the coffee shop during a very quiet last hour of your shift. You’d laughed and chatted as the pair of you had eaten on the comfort of Walters couch, before you’d suddenly stopped mid sentence;

“Shit, i left my bike in the lobby… will it be safe there until i go home?”

Walter smiled at you, his hand curling around your thigh;

“Have you heard that weather out there? I’d be surprised if you could even ride it home through three foot of snow…” he paused for a moment; “Stay the night…”

You went to object, decline politely but you caught yourself, why? Why shouldn’t you spend the night? Taking a deep breath you smiled;

“I’d love to”

_____________________________________________

Part 2 >>>

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #henry cavill #walter marshall smut #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fanfic

771 notes · View notes

pftones3482 · 3 years

Text

Sometimes Stupid

Commission for @randomfandomfan from one of their many prompts they gave me. Took forever bc of work and life and also???? Now I have a cat??? So that's fun. But this was fun to write. Read it here on AO3

Set post TLO and pre HOO (and a little bit post HOO). Under a cut for length.

Contrary to popular belief, Leo Valdez was not stupid.

He was an idiot, at times – for instance, maybe running away from his seventh (fifteenth? He’d really lost track at this point) foster home wasn’t the best decision he could have made, especially given that it was the middle of summer and oh, also, hurricane season. And okay, maybe he should’ve taken more with him than a single change of clothes, a box of Ritz crackers, a pocketknife, and a water bottle that had definitely seen better days, but he was in a rush, okay?

But he wasn’t stupid.

When he ran away from his foster homes, Leo tended to stay away from people where he could. And if he had to be around them, he cleaned up, smiled brightly, “Yes ma’am”ed and “Yes’sir”ed to an obnoxious point, and lied his pants off. People were less likely to call the police on a Hispanic kid if they thought he was just a darling little angel waiting for mom at the grocery store, and the last thing he needed was the cops in his business.

Not that it hadn’t happened, of course. He’d dealt with cops of all kinds – nice cops, bad cops, black cops, white cops (WAY too many of those, in his opinion), the occasional cop who would speak Spanish with him, cops who were just there to write a report and move on with their days – cops.

He tried to stay away from them.

Which meant sticking to beaches and forests, lakes and campgrounds, middle of nowhere places with no people for miles. Leo was good at disappearing. Hiding.

But there were always times when he needed an adult. When he needed to hitchhike, or when he needed food to the point of near passing out. Once for serious medical attention. There was a system to what adults you could trust.

Never cops. You could never trust the cops, no matter what naïve white parents thought. Leo had been in cuffs enough to know that was false.

You also couldn’t usually trust priests. They meant well, sure, but they always ended up calling the authorities in the end. That, or they tried to convert Leo to Catholicism, and while one of those encounters had ended with a swiped bottle of watered-down red wine and a night that made him vow to never drink again, he wasn’t trying to contact the church.

(THAT night, Leo would say he had been stupid. He could admit that)

Homeless people were usually okay. While a lot of them were very suspicious of everyone, almost every homeless person he’d ever met would point him in the direction of food, water, free showers, free clothes, or a library (his saving grace during the heat of the summer and the cold of the winter). The times when he came across gay homeless people were when he felt safest – they especially never pressed him about his background. Ironic, really, that he felt safer with strangers on the street than his foster homes.

Moms were sometimes okay. Especially if they were Hispanic, or black, or just anything but white. They, at least, wouldn’t call the cops on him. But they were also hit or miss – sometimes they helped in way of a meal, or a new bottle of water. One mom even took him to the store and got him new socks and underwear (he had cried that night). But other moms rushed him away from their precious babies. Some moms called him ungrateful for the “space he had.”

Dads were a never. Leo never went to men if he could help it, even if they had children with them. He didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them, and that wasn’t very far.

But it was hurricane season. And he was on the coast. And it was downpouring, and he was starving, and the only people he had seen for miles were a white couple, a man and a woman, standing on the porch of a somewhat rundown shack that Leo would’ve probably thought was abandoned if he hadn’t seen them there.

The man was tall, peppered hair that was shifting more to salt, with a rough beard and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. The woman at his side was short, probably Leo’s height, with dark curly hair and vibrantly blue eyes. It was streaked with gray, but she was, admittedly, a very pretty woman. Something about her smile put Leo at ease.

He clutched his backpack tighter in his fist and stumbled over the sand towards the shack, ankles rolling uncomfortably on the wet ground. He was sure he looked atrocious, sure that the moment they spotted him, they’d shriek and cuss him out and lock the door.

But then he coughed, hard, his shoulders shaking, and the woman whipped her head around. He watched her eyes widen, watched her tug at the man’s sleeve, and then she was bolting – barefoot, Leo noticed – down the steps and over to him.

He flinched when she wrapped an arm over his shoulders, jolting out of her grip more from habit than anything else. She froze, holding both hands up and relaxing her stance. “Hey, honey. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Somewhere deep down, Leo’s brain was scoffing at the patronizing words. But on the surface, he focused on the words, and then sharpened his eyes onto the man as he approached, phone in hand. “I-I c-can’t-”

The woman looked back, down at the phone, and her shoulders stiffened. “Paul, put the phone away, please.”

Her voice held an intonation that Leo couldn’t decipher, but the man – Paul – instantly shut the phone off and pocketed it. The moment it was gone, Leo let his shoulders loosen, and he looked at the woman anxiously. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I-I just…”

“Hey.”

Her arm was more cautious this time, sliding around Leo’s shoulders with a pace that would let him move if he wanted. He didn’t, just let it happen, and then the woman was easing him over the sticky sand and up the steps of the shack, Paul close behind them. He stopped at the door, pushing back hard against the woman’s guiding grip. “I don’t want to ruin your house,” he managed.

The woman’s laugh was…well, to be perfectly honest, it made Leo feel warm. Like she could never hurt him.

Those are usually the most dangerous people, his mind tried to reason with him.

“Sweetheart, it’s just a rental cabin. Besides, I’ve had far worse than a little sand and water on my floors before.”

Before he could wonder at that sentence, she opened the door and nudged him inside. The second that Paul closed the door, the sound of the wind died down and the chill in the air evaporated. Leo realized he was shivering.

The woman’s hands were warm on his cheeks. “My name is Sally, hon. You are-?”

He usually gave a fake name, but – “Leo, ma’am.”

“Don’t you ma’am me,” she scoffed, her voice easy as she helped Leo to the couch. “I’m not that old, am I Paul?”

Paul put his hands up. “I abstain from answering.”

Sally scoffed and pressed a cool hand on Leo’s forehead. “Can I take your backpack, sweetheart?”

Something like panic flared in Leo’s chest, and Sally must have seen it, because she pulled her hand back and held it up. “I’m not moving it far, I just want Paul to dry everything out for you, okay?”

Fingers shaking, Leo shrugged off his bag – the one he’d been carrying for nearly three states – and passed it over to her. She took it like it was a priceless artifact, and handed it to Paul with more tenderness than Leo had ever seen given to an inanimate object. “I think my son might have left some clothes here while he was with us last week,” she said, voice soft. “He’s a little older than you, so some things might be big, but is it okay if we give you some of his clothes while we dry out yours?”

Leo swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Um. Yeah.”

She stood up and left with Paul, giving Leo a moment to be alone and take in the cabin around him.

It was old, but obviously well taken care of, with weathered planks of wood gracing the walls and the floor. He was in the living room, full of mismatched couches and chairs and a bookshelf stacked full of books and games. He didn’t see a TV in sight, but he wasn’t expecting to find one. He stood shakily, suddenly very aware of how wet he was getting the couch, and wrapped his arms around himself as he explored the rest of the main room.

The kitchen was small and cramped, but he could smell something full of tomatoes and spices in the oven that made his tastebuds water. He didn’t dare look for fear of getting caught, so he stepped away and into the tiny dining area. There was sand on the floor, spread thin and fine, and it was such a small thing, but it made Leo relax even more – Sally meant it when she said she didn’t care about him ruining her floors.

But she and Paul had been gone for a while, and Leo wasn’t stupid, okay? It didn’t matter how well intentioned someone was, they always thought they knew better, and if they were gone too long, it meant they were trying to decide for him. So he crept towards the hallway they’d vanished to, praying that he didn’t step on a squeaky board. Old homes always had them in the most inconvenient places.

“-not answering?” he picked up Paul’s voice saying.

“No,” Sally said, a sigh in her voice. “He did say he and Annabeth were on a date, but I didn’t expect them to be in Paris of all places. How did they even-?”

“Can you get ahold of Chiron?”

Not the police, then, Leo reasoned, unless they knew an officer by that name. He leaned a little closer.

“No – I try not to call the camp unless I need to. Phone lines and all that, you know?”

Paul huffed. “I know. And Rachel is at art camp, right?”

“Yup,” Sally said, and Leo heard a sound like a blowing raspberry. “He clearly isn’t aware of anything, Paul. He’s terrified.”

“Probably a runaway,” Paul hummed, and Leo flinched at the damning statement. “Met a couple kids like that teaching.”

He looked like a teacher. You couldn’t trust most teachers either, Leo had learned. They were just like priests. Tried their best, but they always inevitably called someone.

“What did you do? Who did you call?” Sally asked, and Leo stiffened. Here it comes, his brain taunted.

“No one,” Paul said.

Leo blinked, taking a slight step back. What?

“Kids don’t run away for no reason, Sal. Especially not kids like him. Perce taught me that. I mean, maybe in my early days of teaching, I might have called the authorities, but ever since this summer I…how could I risk that? Even before then, I mean…the stories I’ve heard from some of these kids I’ve talked to. We don’t know anything about him. If he ran away, all this way, in this weather? It was bad, love.”

Leo’s throat ached.

He’d never, the whole time he’d been in foster care, ever heard an adult admit that they were wrong to call the authorities on him. Never heard an adult take his perspective into account, especially without even knowing him. Never had an adult admit that his life could be anything other than ideal.

He took another step back and oh shit, there it was, the cursed piece of wood in every old house to ever exist. He cussed under his breath and ducked his head as Sally stepped into the hallway. He refused to look up at her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were just gone for a while a-and I thought you might be calling someone.”

No verbal response. Instead, a soft bundle of fabric was pressed into Leo’s hands. He startled, gripping onto the clothing, and looked up at Sally and Paul with wide eyes. Paul shook his head. “We’re not calling anyone, son. Not if you don’t want us to. But we do ask that you get cleaned up, before you catch pneumonia.”

Sally tilted her head towards the door across the hall. “Let me know when you’re done, I’ll toss your clothes in the dryer. Paul was just finishing up dinner when you came along. Do you like lasagna?”

Leo’s mouth watered at the thought of eating any kind of food that wasn’t stale crackers and canned tuna. “Yes ma’am.”

“What’d I say about that ma’am nonsense?” Sally scolded.

Leo ducked his head, trying to press down the tears. “Yes, miss,” he chuckled.

Sally laughed as Paul headed for the kitchen. “It’s a start, love.”

Sally’s son’s clothes were soft, well loved. They smelled like sea water and lavender detergent, and though the t-shirt was a gaudy orange with letters so faded that Leo couldn’t read them, he sank into the fabric with a sigh. Sally had also passed him a pair of sweatpants, and Leo hoped that her son wouldn’t be mad if he ever found out that some random foster kid had borrowed them.

If he was anything like Sally, though, Leo had the feeling he’d like him.

His hair was still wet, but this time from a shower, and Leo couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to stand under an actual stream of hot water without people literally timing him to make sure he didn’t take too long. He stood in front of the mirror, sighing a little at how skinny he’d gotten. He’d always been small – being skinny only made him more of a punching bag for the bigger foster kids. His hair, untamed from weeks of running, hung in his eyes, and he wondered briefly if Sally might have a hair tie he could borrow.

He left the bathroom and crept into the dining room, where Sally was setting the table and Paul was pulling one of the most beautiful lasagnas he’d ever seen out of the oven.

“-texted me, said they’d be back tomorrow morning. He offered to come back sooner,” Sally was saying as Leo stood in the doorway, “but I know he and ‘beth haven’t really gotten to go on any non-monstrous dates recently.”

She blinked when she saw him standing there, and her smile softened into something warm and inviting. “Come on, hon. Paul was just getting dinner out.”

Maybe it was the malnourishment, or Paul’s cooking skills, or Leo’s exhaustion, or a combination of the three, but Leo had never tasted such good Italian food in his life. He downed one, two, three pieces and a full salad before he finally slowed down. To his relief, neither Paul nor Sally gave him any grief about how many pieces he took. Honestly, he thought he watched Paul actively make his slices bigger than theirs.

They’d clearly been talking about their son when he came in the room. This guy was in Paris, on a date with his girlfriend, and he was coming back tomorrow. Leo wondered just how rich this family was – the dad was a teacher, but Sally hadn’t said what she did, and Leo was a little afraid to ask.

When Paul brought out a pie for dessert, Leo almost cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had any dessert fancier than a stolen Ding Dong from a corner store. Paul definitely gave him a larger slice than them, and as he ate it, Sally poked at her own pie.

“Leo, we’re not going to pry,” she started, gentle. “Your story is yours, and I know how tricky it can be to share yourself and your past with new people.”

The sad smile Paul shot her didn’t go unnoticed by Leo, and he internally bristled at the thought that this wonderful mom in front of him could understand anything about how he felt, because that meant that she’d gone through shit she didn’t deserve. He said nothing, though, just nodded.

Sally eyed her pie thoughtfully, stabbing a blackberry that had escaped the crust. “But I feel like…well, I feel as though my son especially can relate to how you’re feeling, or at least some of it. If you’d be willing to wait for him to come home, maybe we can figure some things out together.”

Leo felt lost. He’d been lost a lot before, but this was the first time it was mental and not physical. “What?”

Sally looked up, seeming to realize that she’d baffled him. “I mean…”

She looked at Paul, and Leo looked between the two of them, tightening his grip on his fork. They were having a silent conversation. Leo hated when adults did that. “You mean you want to wait until I’m asleep so you can call the cops o-or foster services or-or just wait until your son gets back so he can tell me to get out.”

He shoved his chair back from the table, tears prickling at his eyes. Every time. Every time. He always got his hopes up, always thought he’d found the perfect people, people who got it, and every fucking time, he-

Hands settled on his shoulders, and he ripped away, scowling at Sally. Her eyes were sad, and Leo felt an unwelcome stab of guilt in his chest. “That is not what we were suggesting, ever, honey. I would never call foster services, first of all. They’re atrocious, especially for kids of color.”

Leo jolted back. He’d never had a white woman actively acknowledge his race so bluntly before – it was usually partnered with some demeaning comment about “his kind” of people. He eyed Sally warily.

She lowered her hands, keeping them on her hips where he could see them. “Second, I’d never call the police either. You’re not a problem, and my son has had enough unfortunate encounters with them for me to…distrust them severely, to say the least.”

Her son had-?

“I just…we know a place. Where you would genuinely be safe, hon. No foster homes, no cops, with people who get it.”

She was lying. She had to be lying, no matter what Leo’s heart said. But she wasn’t going to let this go, and he knew it. So he sighed, fidgeted with his fingers. He wished he had something to build. “Okay. I’ll wait for your son to get home.”

Sally relaxed, and Leo gave her a thin smile.

He helped her and Paul clean up the kitchen, put away the leftover lasagna. Sat with them and did a puzzle, played a game of Clue with them. Fixed their radio for them, much to their surprise, and then watched with a small smile on his face as Paul and Sally danced around the living room together. They tried to get him to join, but he’d never been much of a dancer, so he declined.

They bid him goodnight around 11, and he shut the door of their son’s room, let the hours tick on.

At three am, he got up, changed back into his own clothes, left the borrowed ones folded neatly on the foot of the bed. He took a flashlight from the bedside table and slid it into his backpack, stepped out of the bedroom and avoided the squeaky floorboard.

The tool kit from fixing the radio was still on the coffee table, and he picked it up with only the slightest feelings of guilt. Went through the cabinets and pulled out sleeves of crackers, a box of granola, eyed the leftover lasagna with a sad gaze. He found a roll of toilet paper under the sink, a bottle of hand sanitizer in a junk drawer.

He paused by the game of Clue, left out on the table from their match, and let his fingers trace over it sadly. His gut screamed at him to leave. His heart screamed at him to stay. He wasn’t stupid.

Leo had always trusted his gut.

He pocketed the candlestick piece and turned for the door, flinching the second his eyes landed on Sally.

Her hair was done up in a braid, her pajamas wrinkled, and the moon shining through the window reflected the sadness in her eyes. Leo opened his mouth, but couldn’t find it in him to speak – the lump was back.

She stepped forward and he shut his eyes, expecting a lecture. Instead, her hand cupped his cheek. Her other hand pressed into his, and he gasped as he felt the telltale touch of money in his fingers. He looked down at the wad of cash – he couldn’t see how much it was, but he knew that he didn’t deserve it. He looked up at her, panicking. “I can’t-”

“Stay, I know,” she whispered, and that wasn’t what he’d been planning to say, and he knew that she knew that. “I understand, Leo. I understand, sweetie.”

The sob slipped out before he could stop it, and Sally’s eyes softened. She bent at the hip, pressing a soft kiss to his curls. “When you end up meeting my son,” she murmured, “come visit, okay?”

Leo had no idea what that meant, but he nodded, if only to appease her. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

She squeezed his shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for, honey. Be safe.”

Sally watched him go, watched him shut the door behind him, and he looked down at the money in his hands with a choked feeling in his chest. It was more than he’d held in his entire life. He couldn’t take it, but he knew she’d be upset if he didn’t. And if there was one thing Leo refused to do, it was make Sally more upset than he already had.

So he pocketed it and, with an aching heart, stepped off the porch of the cabin. The storm from earlier had died down, and, fingers tight on his backpack straps, he started making his way up the beach.

Percy was bouncing up and down at the entrance to Camp Half Blood, fingers curled around Annabeth’s hand. “Do I look okay?” he asked for probably the thousandth time that morning.

Piper rolled her eyes. “Percy, it’s your mom. She doesn’t care what you look like.”

Percy shot her a mock glare. “I haven’t seen her in over a year, McClean, sue me.”

“You look fine, Perce,” Annabeth laughed, kissing his cheek. “She’s gonna mostly care that you’re alive.”

“Okay but this tattoo-”

“Sorry, you vanished on me for over a year, crossed the globe, and you got a TATTOO?” came a very scolding, very obviously Mom Voice, and Leo snickered, turning to see who was about to absolutely whoop Percy’s ass.

And he stumbled on his own feet, lips parting as Sally (Sally Jackson, his unhelpful brain mocked) appeared at the top of the hill. Her hair was a little grayer than it had been when Leo met her, her hips a little wider, but her smile was the same, her laugh as Percy launched himself at her the same peal of delight Leo remembered on his toughest nights, and when she caught his eye over Percy’s shoulder, her smile only widened.

Okay, so sometimes Leo Valdez was kind of stupid.

#percy jackson #pjo #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #pjo fanfic #my writing #sally jackson #paul blofis #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo

77 notes · View notes

codenamed-queenie · 4 years

Text

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched.

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire.

So. Quarantine it is.

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick -

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days.

Then he started to get twitchy.

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.”

“Dick, no.”

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t.

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass.

Desperate for news of the outside.

He thrives off of it like a starving man.

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after.

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason -

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist.

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking.

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results.

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it.

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up.

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done.

Barbara -

Self-quarantined with her dad.

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive.

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs.

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together.

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles.

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony.

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window.

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background.

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute.

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen.

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe.

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned.

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim.

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being.

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out.

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it.

Cass -

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate.

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed.

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far.

But no one knows for sure.

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel.

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later.

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic.

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day.

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’ mostly.

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost.

Steph -

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first.

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down.

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable.

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving.

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks.

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s.

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic.

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place.

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian -

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house.

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine.

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds.

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion.

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time.

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are.

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time.

Only that he is Out There.

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had.

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies.

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat.

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts.

Duke -

Did not leave the attic for two weeks.

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement.

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement.

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement.

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa.

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally.

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others.

Duke has seen these people under pressure.

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with.

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

4K notes · View notes

lastbluetardis · 3 years

Text

Sacred New Beginnings (1/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU, @doctorroseprompts

This Chapter: Teen, ~5500 words

Note: Er... surprise? This idea has been in my head for months but my brain took it and ran with it this weekend. I plotted the whole thing and am gonna try to update every weekend. I don’t anticipate this being more than like... 7-10 chapter? I’d love to keep it under 5 chapters but that might be trimming things down too much for my liking. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this little story!

AO3

Flashing lights and shrieks of his name greet James the moment the back door to his armored car is opened. His head of security ducks out first and James can only see a mass of feet and legs but it’s more than enough to let him know it’s a heavier than usual crowd. Not surprising, considering the news of his latest break-up just dropped while he’d been flying back from a visit to America.

He slides out of the car, helped by hands that pull him as much as guide him through the throng. He ignores the shouts of his name—telling him to look left or right or up or down or every combination therein—and the barrage of questions and jokes that aren’t funny.

Was it you or him that ended it?

Three weeks, is that a new personal record?

Another notch in the bedpost, eh James?

Got another beau lined up yet?

If you’re looking for candidates, what do we have to do to get our names in the running?

“Ignore them,” he mutters to himself, too quietly for anyone except his security team to hear.

In answer, one of them gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they reach his front door. Someone has already unlocked it for him and the darkness within is a blessing he’s all too willing to be shoved into. The cacophony muffles once the door shuts, and finally he’s alone, a rarity for him. If it’s not his security, it’s personal assistants and writers and producers and photographers and the paparazzi.

Or his lover of the month, as the papers have taken to calling his partners.

But nope, his home is empty and quiet and bloody freezing. A shiver ripples up his spine as he treads to the thermostat controller. Summer finally released its hold on London, and the muggy heat has been replaced with a damp chill that burrows down into his bones.

Several button-presses later, James hears the familiar clank of the radiator and he can smell the heating kick on. It’ll take a while for his house to warm up, so James keeps his peacoat on for the time being as he putters around his home, checking the fridge and the cabinets. As always, they’re well-stocked. He hasn’t had to do anything as mundane as grocery shopping in the five years since his YouTube channel full of acoustic covers of popular songs went viral and landed him a lucrative deal with a prestigious record label. Only in his wildest dreams had he expected to find fame and fortune in the hobby he loved so much—for it to have actually happened still took him by surprise, as though any minute he’d be told “it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time for you to leave wonderland now.”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he goes to the antique dining table that can easily seat ten people, which is great for holidays or in-home meetings, but just plain depressing every other day of the year. A stack of mail has piled up, and he spends the next five minutes attempting to sort it before giving up and telling himself he’ll look at it in the morning, once he’s not quite as groggy—transatlantic flights always take it out of him.

Instead, he rootles around his fridge until he comes up with the necessary items to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. With the prospect of food in front of him, James realizes he is starving. He shoves a whole slice of ham in his mouth while he assembles his pitiful meal, heaping on lettuce and sliced tomatoes as though that’s enough to negate the pile processed protein and greasy chips he layers in for crunch.

It’s tastier than any sandwich as a right to be, and he nearly makes himself a second one before catches sight of his phone screen and the slew of incoming notifications. His work is never finished, is it?

There are several texts from his publicist, Donna, welcoming him home and congratulating him on not making an arse of himself just by trying to walk up the front drive of his home. (To be fair, he felt entitled to channel his inner crotchety old man and tell reporters to get off his damn lawn if they encroached on his personal property.)

“Though some photos are surfacing of your trip to New York… Anything you need me to get ahead of?”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes, knowing she’s probably referring to his last night out in the city, where he went bar hopping until the wee hours of the morning to try to forget the text his subsequently-ex-boyfriend had sent him.

Thanks for everything, but I need to focus on my career. Cheers mate.

The career that James had kickstarted for him by introducing his rising actor boyfriend to several of his friends in the film industry, because James had been so damn desperate for affection that he’d once again let the wool get pulled in front of his eyes.

And so James had reached out to mates who lived in New York and they’d all gone out and acted half their age and had a wonderful time once James forgot about why he’d gone out in the first place.

But none of that now. Nope. No sir.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “Let me know if you catch wind of anything.”

Despite the fact that he only just got home and he’s jetlagged and still feeling the effects of his night out in New York, James can’t stay in his house right now. It’s so quiet that his brain is creating its own white noise. He can’t stand being in his head on a good day, and today is not a good day.

He grabs his keys and wallet and makes for the back of the house. His property is landlocked with the back gardens of other houses; the paps have learned the hard way that James is dead serious about protecting his neighbors’ privacy and will not hesitate to phone the police to arrest and sue anyone caught trespassing on private property to snag a photo of him. James hosts dinner for his neighbors several times a year and buys them gifts any chance he can to show his appreciation for their patience and tolerance.

In the dead of night, he slips out into his back garden, the crisp October air burning his lungs in the best way as he ducks his way through the neighborhood, his feet taking him far away from the crowd of reporters that are still stationed in front of his own home. Hopefully they’ll all have dispersed by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should have turned on music or a movie or something, made them think he was settled in for a lazy night in.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying this taste of freedom and trying to remember the days when he could leave out the front door of his flat without any fanfare.

It’s dark, and thick clouds obscure whichever moon phase they’re in, but the street lamps glow yellow on the damp pavement, lighting his way forward. A crisp autumn breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves, sending them tumbling around him and skittering across the residential street that’s so much quieter than the bustle of New York. It’s good to be home, though.

He arrives at a bus stop and catches one headed into the city proper. It’s no secret that James lives in London, and therefore the general population has gotten used to glimpsing him on the tube or walking on the street or frequenting pubs. He knows people snap quick photos of him, and he’s always happy to stop and pose for a selfie with respectful fans, but mostly he’s left alone when he’s out by himself like this.

Nevertheless, he hears the excited undertones of people trying to inconspicuously point him out to their oblivious friends. He keeps his head down, mindlessly opening and closing apps on his phone for something to do as he pretends he doesn’t notice them. He won’t be on the bus much longer anyway.

Several people get off the bus with him, including a group of teenage girls who are whispering heatedly among themselves. It’s almost funny, watching them debate amongst themselves before one of them approaches him.

She’s red-faced but determined as she blurts, “Can we get a photo?”

“Sure thing,” he says good-naturedly, inclining his head for them to come closer. “Need me to take it?” He holds out a lanky arm and flops it around a bit. “Got a longer reach than any of you.”

He’s certain one of the girls is about to start crying with joy as they all nestle into his side and hand him a new-model iPhone. Damn, it’s fancier than his own. When he was their age, he had an old flip phone that lost reception if he breathed on it wrong. It was a tank though—he’d dropped that thing hundreds of times, and nary a scratch.

“Do me a favor,” he says, handing the phone back to its owner, “and don’t ping our location if you post to social media, yeah? I appreciate it.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” one of the girls squeaks.

His face splits into a grin and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Is that so?”

The girls spend the next five minutes chatting with him about music and how they’ve been following him ever since his YouTube days. He listens and chimes in every now and then when they ask him a direct question, but he prefers being passive in exchanges like this, content to hear peoples’ stories. It makes him feel normal, if only for a little while.

Finally, they take their leave, and James turns in the opposite direction even though the destination he had in mind is down the street the girls had just taken. But he’s been burned far too many times by encounters with seemingly innocent fans, only for them to begin following him around and showing up outside his house to talk to him again. He makes a point of not drawing out public encounters with his fans.

He wanders down a street he’s vaguely familiar with, figuring he can backtrack in a couple blocks. The night is too beautiful for him to be upset about needing to take a detour.

Everything looks different in the dark, the glow of neon signs bathing everything in hues of greens and blues and pinks and yellows. Shops and restaurants are mostly shut up for the night, their windows dark or blinds drawn. Dingey motels with pay-by-the-hour rates are in full swing, as are the pubs that have a revolving door of people in varying states of intoxication.

Deep bass that he can feel all the way in his chest catches his attention, and he gets turned around a few times, but he eventually finds the establishment: Bad Wolf Brews. At first, he doesn’t think it’s open, and that he must be mistaken about where the music is coming from, but the heavy front oak door opens, and he realizes the glass on the door is tempered so that the interior lights don’t shine through. The music is clear and heavy and vibrating in his bones. He doesn’t think twice before catching the door before it closes and slipping inside.

The air is humid and smells of sweat and stale beer. Bodies are writhing and gyrating to the rhythm blasting through invisible speakers. The acoustics are phenomenal; none of the layers are lost and the sound quality is nearly as good as if he were listening to the record at home on his own stereo system.

The lights are low, and he’s sure he trips into a few people in the minute it takes for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but finally, he’s at the bar. There are three open stools, and he claims one between a blonde woman and a red-haired man as he wonders what the hell this dive bar serves. He can see beer taps, but he’s more of a cocktail guy. He must look as lost as he feels, because the bartender hands him a menu that looks like it was hand-written and then photo-copied. It jives with the overall vibe of the pub.

The bartender checks in with him a minute later. James opens a tab and orders a sidecar sans sugar, and is pleasantly surprised by the quality. Not to make assumptions, but he’d figured an establishment such as this would have cheap liquor. If the alcohol in his drink is cheap, it’s well masked.

When he’s drained the last drop and about to signal for another, a hand rests on his shoulder. “Can I buy your next round?”

James looks up into the face of a stranger. It’s a woman with striking green eyes and a disheveled pixie cut. Judging by her crimson cheeks and glazed eyes, she’s three sheets to the wind. There’s buzzed, then there’s drunk, and then there’s plastered. He prefers not to let himself get to that last category, and by extension, he doesn’t really like to associate much with people who won’t remember the night come morning.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says with his most charming grin. “G’night.”

He has no idea if the woman knows who he is, but the way she shrugs and saunters to the gentleman sitting beside James, he doubts it.

He gets clumsily propositioned a few more times and always politely declines with a smile. So far, nobody here seems to recognize him and he is going to ride out this anonymity for as long as it’ll last. It has been too long since he’s been able to sit in a pub and drink quietly. Well, quietly, insofar as crazed fans or paparazzi aren’t harassing him—the music is loud enough that he’s sure to have ringing in his ears for a few hours once he gets home.

But he’s not really in any rush to get home, and so he orders his fourth cocktail before making his way to the loo. Alcohol goes right through him, and it’s nearly gotten him in trouble on tour a time or two.

There’s no line, but the loo is crowded, and he tries to ignore the double-takes as he stands in front of a urinal to take care of business. If he wakes up tomorrow morning to find that someone snapped a photo of him having a piss, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Bladder tended to, James keeps his head ducked and shoulders his way back into the bar. His stool is unoccupied, and when he steps forward, he realizes why. A purse sits on it, seemingly reserving the seat but he can’t figure out for whom. He’s about to take the cocktail the bartender hands him and stand against the shadowed wall when someone picks up the purse.

It’s his blonde-haired stool mate. She flashes him a broad grin that lights up her entire face and squeezes something deep in his stomach.

“Saved your seat for ya,” she says with the ease and confidence of someone who’s known him his whole life.

“Thanks,” he manages through a suddenly dry mouth.

Feeling like an idiot for standing and gaping, he slips into his seat and downs half his new sidecar in one go. It’s as though the ice has been broken now, and she turns to him, her elbow on the counter and her cheek propped on her fist.

“Pretty sure you could outdrink a fish, mate,” she drawls, smiling again in that easy way that does too many strange things to his insides. “You’ve been knockin’ ‘em back for over an hour now.”

Has it really been that long? James checks his watch, and yup, it’s half past ten. The paps should be gone from his house by now, but he feels no draw to leave this place. The alcohol has left him pleasantly tipsy and warm, but he’s more drunk on the fantasy that he’s just a normal bloke having a nice night out in a newly-discovered dive bar.

“Fish don’t really drink though, do they? They absorb water through their gills via osmosis,” he replies, and he wants to bite his tongue off because what the fuck was that??

This woman, whatever her name is, doesn’t seem to mind his answer though, because her face scrunches in a giggle. His body is hot and throbbing with more than drink now, and he wants to hear that sound again but his brain has stopped working.

“Is that so different from you absorbin’ alcohol through your bloodstream?” she muses, finishing off whatever is in her short tumbler.

“Can I buy your next round?” he blurts rather than responding to her question, which he’s almost certain was rhetorical.

Her smile melts into something softer, something private and a little shy. “If you’d like.”

“I do.” He flags down the bartender and glances at his new companion expectantly.

“Gin and tonic,” she says. She thanks the bartender, then James when she takes her first sip. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“James,” he says, feeling stupid because his face is plastered all over London, which likes to boast that it’s the home of international celeb James Noble. But wouldn’t he seem more of an arse if he just assumed this gorgeous woman knew who he was?

Nevertheless, his stomach sinks a bit when she snorts into her drink and says, “I thought it was you.”

“Yup, it’s me,” he forces, his voice flat. He hides his frown with his glass, knocking back the rest of his sidecar like it’s a shot. The room sways slightly with the violent motion of his head, and maybe he’s slightly drunker than he’d thought.

If Rose catches on to his sudden sour mood, she doesn’t mention it. “What brings you here to Bad Wolf?”

He shrugs and blows out a noisy breath. “I dunno. Went for a walk, ended up here.”

“Those are the best sort of adventures.” She hums wistfully. “Sometimes you find what you didn’t know you needed when you let yourself get lost.”

That observation is far too astute for his current state of mind, so instead he says, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Her eyes flicker across his face for a brief moment before she says, “Okay.”

He hops down from his stool, but Rose hesitates, clutching her purse and coat awkwardly. The bartender helpfully tells her to keep them on her stool, and he’ll keep an eye on it. Rose flashes him a grin that James would rather she flash at him, but he realizes that is utterly absurd, so he simply rests his coat on top of her things to better hide them from view. He then holds out his hand for her. Her palm is soft and warm against his as he leads her to the crowded dance floor.

They find space towards the back of the pub, hidden in the shadows of a hallway that states it’s closed off to patrons. And of course, of fucking course, right when he rests his hands on her hips to find the rhythm of the song, a new one comes on, and his own voice belts from the speakers.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. He loves his music—he made it, after all—but he can’t help but feel pretentious and more than a little silly to dance to it like this.

Rose, however, grins and says, “Oh, come on, this is one of my favorites.”

She catches his hands where he’d loosened them at her waist and forces him to grab hold of her. She’s wearing high-waisted trousers and a top that leaves a sliver of her belly exposed. His thumb grazes the skin of her bare side, and it’s enough to send tingles through his body. Rose, meanwhile, slings her arms around his shoulders and begins to rock her hips from side to side in sync with the bass, embellishing the motions until she looks absolutely ridiculous but so, so beautiful.

He can’t help but grin and laugh, and he mirrors her movements until they’re both dancing like idiots to his music.

“This is how my baby brother dances,” she explains, bouncing up and down while twisting her hips. “We have regular dance parties together.”

“How old’s your brother?” he asks.

“Just turned four.”

He blinks, and blood rushes from his face. “And… and how old are you?”

“A perfectly legal twenty-four,” she drawls, reaching up to flick his nose. “You can start breathing again.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s quite the age gap.”

“My mum got remarried when I was nineteen,” Rose says with a shrug. “She and my stepdad didn’t waste much time.”

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath.

“It does feel a bit like they’ve started over,” Rose confesses with a too-stiff shrug. “New family, new life, and I’m the interloper.

There is no way this vivacious woman in front of him could ever be considered an interloper, but before he can tell her that, she continues, “Mum does her best to assure me otherwise, but still. It’s hard to watch all the things Mum and Dad are able to do for Tony—that’s my brother, Tony—when Mum struggled so much as a single mum with me.”

“Your dad’s not in the picture?”

A sad smile pinches her face, and he regrets asking.

“No, I never knew him. He died when I was a baby.”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Well, he’s totally buggered this all up, hasn’t he? He wracks his brain on how to salvage the easy banter they’d had at the bar, but draws a blank.

Rose seems to realize they’ve lost the mood, but she breaks out into a lazy grin and says, “Since you seemed so opposed to dancing to your own music, it’ll please you to know a new song’s on. C’mon, show me your moves.”

He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he follows her lead, watching her dance her heart out until her cheeks are pink and her hair is damp with sweat. He’s sure he doesn’t look much better, since he can feel the perspiration beading down his back and beneath his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care. Tonight has been the most fun he’s had in a very long time. Clubbing in New York had been a lark, but he’s been swarmed by his American fans half the night, and had been busy drowning his latest heartbreak to fully enjoy it. But here, now, with Rose, it’s like he’s any other bloke in a pub, chatting up a pretty girl he wants to get to know.

Their bodies are wrapped around each other with the ease and grace of partners who have known each other for years, and he forgets that he has known Rose for all of a few hours. He never wants this night to end. He wants to cling to this fairytale and pretend that the clock isn’t about to strike the proverbial midnight.

But time marches on as always. The clock really does strike midnight, and the bartender begins to clear people out of his establishment. James is as exhausted as he is exhilarated, no longer drunk on booze but rather the company of Rose and the magic they made together by simply dancing the night away.

They head back to the bar to retrieve their coats and her purse, and to close out their tabs. James slides his credit card to the bartender and asks him to charge everyone’s tab to his card. If the bartender is surprised, he hides it well. A few minutes later, James is signing off on the receipt of purchase of several thousand pounds-worth of alcohol. His personal assistant is sure to be confused as hell when she wakes up to see the charge. He fires off a quick warning text to her so she doesn’t open up a fraudulent charge claim.

James salutes the bartender, knowing he’ll come back to this pub as often as he can until he’s found out and this place once again becomes somewhere that’s overrun with his fans.

The night is refreshingly cold when he and Rose emerge into it, a nice change after the stifling, sweaty heat of the bar. However, she hunches her shoulders against the chill, prompting him to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her into his side, all too eager to lend her some of his body heat.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asks, glancing around the street that is now full of the drunken patrons who’d been in the pub with them. They all disperse in different directions, stumbling home or to a different bar that is still open. “Or wait with you ‘til you catch a cab?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, pulling up her phone to order a ride. She taps on the screen for a few quiet moments then says, “Done. Should be here in a few minutes.”

They descend into a slightly awkward silence that James wants to break, but he can’t think of anything clever to say. So he says nothing, and finally headlights wash over them, momentarily blinding them before a taxi pulls up.

“D’you wanna share?” she asks, opening the door to the back seat.

Is she as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her? Or is she being polite and eco-friendly by ride sharing? Nevertheless, he nods and slides into the back seat beside her.

There is something incredibly intimate about sitting with Rose in the dark interior of the taxi, and he feels like he’s fifteen and wondering how to hold his date’s hand after a cheap night out at the cinemas. He fists his hands together, knotting his fingers until his knuckles pop.

The driver goes to the address Rose provides first, and all too soon they’ve arrived.

“I’ll cover the fare,” he says when she makes to hand over some bank notes to the diver. “It’d be my pleasure.”

She hesitates, but nods, then opens the door to climb out of the car. His pulse quickens as he watches her walk away with nothing but a, “Goodnight.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he asks the driver.

“Meter’s still runnin’,” he grunts.

“That’s fine.”

James scrambles out of the taxi. “Hey, Rose?”

She turns back to face him, frowning.

“I… er… I had a great time tonight,” he says lamely, but her frown relaxes into a smile. “It was fun. With you. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” she answers.

He licks his lips; his mouth is bone dry and his pulse pounds in his ears, making his vision throb with each frenzied beat.

“Do you… do you maybe wanna do it again some time? Hang out together? I… I’d really like to see you again,” he says, cursing his clumsy, fumbling words.

She scrutinizes him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. His stomach sinks. Maybe this was a one-off, a story for her to tell her mates.

You’ll never guess who I met at the pub last night. James Noble! He paid for all my drinks and we danced like idiots.

He stews in his misery of doubt, and just when he’s about to tell her to forget about it, she slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful edge creeping into his voice.

She laughs. “Really.”

“Brilliant!” James fumbles in his pocket for his phone, and he thrusts it at her. “Give me your number? I’ll text you. Or call.”

He rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, waiting for her to finish up with his phone. He has a sudden, potent bolt of panic that she’s snooping through his private messages or photographs for something to use against him to make a quick profit, but before that panic can take root, she hands his mobile back to him. It’s open to a new texting conversation.

From: 🌹 Bad Wolf Girl 🌹

Now I’ve got your number too 😉

He beams at the name she’s given to herself in his contacts, then he pockets his phone.

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“You better,” she replies with that knee-weakening smile he’s grown to love over the course of the night. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

He stands there like a moron until she’s safely inside, then he turns back to the taxi and climbs in. The deserted streets streak by as the driver takes him to his neighborhood. He never gives his address though; he always chooses a destination a few streets away, just in case.

James generously tips the driver and bids him goodnight before slipping into the night to his home. He was right: the paparazzi are gone. There is no fanfare as he slips his key into the lock and lets himself into his house. It’s warm and cozy, but still too quiet for his liking.

Between the plane ride and his night out, he feels greasy and disgusting, and indulges in a hot shower before bed. He washes Rose’s scent off of his body, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that’s as sweet as it is musky.

He’s groggy by the time he crawls into his giant, king-sized bed and burrows deep into his mounds of pillows and duvets. One of his ex-girlfriends once teased that he turns into the marshmallow man when he sleeps.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and when he awakes with the sun the following morning, he feels more refreshed and invigorated than he ever remembers being. He’s got a full day of meetings with his songwriting team to brainstorm his next album, and he is ready.

But first, he checks his phone. There’s nothing from Rose, which makes him a little sad, but also nothing from his publicist, which is always a good sign. If ever she messages or calls him first thing in the morning, it always means there’s some sort of dumpster fire to put out. Usually a dumpster fire full of compromising photos of him.

He makes a point of not Googling himself, but he does occasionally check his social media pages for new posts about him, wanting to know when, where, and how his fans came across him in the wild. He easily finds the photo that he took with the group of teenage girls, and makes a point to like the original post and type a quick, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for chatting with me last night - J” in the comments section. He snorts to himself as his comment blows up within seconds.

But other than some grainy photos of him riding the bus, he can’t find any other photos of himself. Nothing of him wandering the streets or drinking in the pub or even having a wee in the mens’ room. And best of all, there’s nothing of him and Rose. No photos of them dancing together or sharing a cab. If Rose has a social media account, it didn’t post any sneaky photos or bragging stories about dancing all night with James Noble.

He can’t quite believe it; he managed to have a fun night out drinking without it all being thrown back in his face the next morning. Within seconds, he’s grinning to himself and pulling up Rose’s contact information. It’s still in his phone, further proof that his night with her wasn’t some sort of jetlagged fever dream. She was real.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Thanks for last night.”

She responds almost instantly. Good morning to you too. I should be thanking you for paying my drink tab and taxi fare 😉 And for being an excellent dance partner.

“The pleasure was all mine, on all counts.” He sends that message, then types out a new one, “I’m gonna be in meetings all day (yes, I know it’s Sunday), so please don’t be discouraged if I don’t reply. But I’d really like to see you again. Want to do dinner or drinks or coffee or something?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, needing to make himself presentable for when his driver picks him up in an hour. Yet he can’t help but check his phone every three seconds, until finally there’s a message from Rose.

Yeah, I’d like that. I work ‘til five most nights, but I’m free after that. Or we can wait ‘til the weekend.

With spirits lighter than they’ve been in months, James steps out of his house with a broad, stupid grin that the ever-present crowd of paparazzi are all too happy to photograph.

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #yet another iteration of james and rose lmao #romance #meet cute #light angst #musician au #my fic #sacred new beginnings

41 notes · View notes

pockou · 3 years

Text

skin ⤻ chpt. one

— pairings: jean kirschtein x fem bodied nb!reader

— warnings: none for now

— summary: after reuniting with your childhood bestfriend, jean and a long heated night together you establish a friends with benefits relationship. what could go wrong?

— modern au

— wc: 2.6k

— a/n: sorry nothing really happened, this is really just me setting things up !

⤺ skin masterlist

After a long and stressful day with work, you finally arrived home. The first thing that crossed your mind was letting your mother know you’d be skipping out on brunch with her and some old friends the next afternoon so you could catch up on some much needed sleep. You removed your shoes and wiped the small bit of sweat which was accumulating on your forehead, outside felt like a heatwave being it was nearing the peak of summer, work has been pretty busy lately with all the moms coming in and demanding for you to restock the pool noodles — which obviously you had no control over just being a mere cashier. You never knew how stressful it could be just standing behind a counter all day, which you didn’t take into account is the long and blistering walk home. Maybe a summer job wasn’t the best choice?

“Oh hey Mom!” Your mom was just passing by with a laundry basket in hand, probably heading to clean clothes for tomorrow.

“Hi Y/N, how was work?”

“Long.” You filled a cup of cold apple juice up before turning back over to her, “By the way, I can’t go with you and dad to brunch tomorrow. I’m pooped and need some extra sleep.”

“Y/N, you can’t skip out, I understand you’re tired but an old friend who you’ll probably be happy to see is going to be there, and i’ll make sure you don’t miss him, he’s rarely in town anymore.”

“He?” You tried to think of all the guys who’ve came into your life which your parents took a liking to, there were a few but not any you really would want to see.

“Yes, he. Now get showered you smell like clorax and sweat!”

“Jeez Mom way to put it lightly!” You both laughed together, these moments definitely made you glad you decided to move back for the summer and stay off of campus. You picked up your phone after it buzzed and saw an incoming follow request from “Jean Kirschtein” the name rang a bell but ultimately you chose to ignore it and decline. You decided to fix the obvious awful scent which was coming from you and headed to shower.

You looked at the array of bath soaps, body scrubs and shampoos you and your mom shared, you picked up the ‘vanilla mint’ scent which always brought comfort to you for some odd reason, it just has for as long as you could remember. After massaging your head with shampoo and conditioner you shaved your legs until you were satisfied with the outcome and jumped out of the shower. Noticing the time after you went to pause your music you realized just how long you took, it was already past seven pm and your dad should be home, hopefully with dinner. Before leaving, you moisturized your legs and added an acne serum to your face, gently patting it into your cheeks and forehead. You just threw on some boxer-like shorts and one of your dads old band tees and peeked into the kitchen.

“Hey darling.”

“Hey Dad, did you pick up dinner?” You leaned over the counter giggling at your mothers antics, being she was behind your father mocking him.

“Yes I did, burritos good? There’s this new joint by the office.”

“Sick, thanks dad! I’ll set the table, love you.” You pecked his cheek before grabbing plates and cups for the three of you, you hadn’t remembered the last time you ate, it probably was around eleven when you had your lunch breaks. Which you believed to be a bit too early for lunch. You smiled widely at both of your parents as they sat down at the table.

“What do you guys want to drink? I’ll go get somethin’ for us all.”

“I’ll just have a water pumpkin.” You took your dads cup and gave him a thumbs up then looked to your mother.

“I still have my protein shake i’ll be fine!”

“Mkay!” You took yours and your dads cups and filled them about halfway with water, adding a bit of lemon and ice to yours, “Dad do ya want ice?”

“Sure, thank you. Now hurry up your foods getting cold!” You shuffled back over to the table handing your dad his iced water and flashing him a shiny smile.

“Thanks again!” After that you dug into your dinner and the whole meal was filled with your dad telling you and your mom about people calling in asking for help with computers and you telling them about annoying people you had to deal with and, of course your mom complaining about Amy from her yoga class.

By the time you all died down and your mom mentioned you should all get some sleep so you’d all be in good moods for brunch in the morning, inevitably you gave up in trying to skip out due to your moms persistence to join them. You walked into your room to be greeted by the warmth and comfort it always gave off to you, you grabbed your phone and plopped onto your bed ready to finally wind down and relax after such a long day. Your eyes got heavy and you felts drowsy before you gave in and fell into a deep sleep. You dreamed of the same boy you had been for a while, he was cute, really cute and he always brought comfort to you. This dream always took place in a pre-k classroom, playing will blocks and legos and the smell of popcorn and juice in the air. He always came up with a smile on his face which was missing one of his front teeth already, some spaghetti sauce around his mouth and asking if you wanted to play tag. But everytime before you said yes, you always woke up and you were no longer in a carefree mindset like a child and that boy was never there all that was there was a loud ‘beep beep beep’ sound ringing in your ears which never failed to wake you up right at ten thirty am.

This time your mom was also in your room, rummaging throughout your dresser drawers. She was humming the same song she used to sing you to sleep with which always made you smile. You whined as you sat up stretching.

“Morning honey, can you wear this today?” She had just a white tee and a jean shorts pretty simple and nice to wear in the summer.

“Sure that’s fine, how much time do I have?”

“Around an hour or so, make sure you hurry please I don’t wanna be late.”

“Mkay, by the way when do I getta know who this wonderboy is?”

“When you see him you’ll know, trust me. Now get ready!”

She walked out of your room to let you get dressed, after putting on the outfit she chose you just found some random sandals to wear and fixed your hair a bit, you still had some time to spare so you just chilled on the couch playing a random cooking game. Your mom came out to show herself off and she did her cheesy little jazz hands.

“You look beautiful Momma.”

“Thank you, Y/N, you look great aswell.” You both looked in the kitchen to see your dad eating something, “We are literally going to brunch why in the world are you eating?” She obviously wasn’t mad but she shook her hand at your dad which made you both chuckle. They both had been together since they were in highschool and seemed to have an unbreakable bond. That was something you’ve always wanted with another person, just to be able to find comfort in another so easily, and trust them no matter what. And just the very way they looked at eachother and the loving gaze they shared, it was everything, they were soulmates and all you wanted was to find something like that. Your special person.

“Well, we should get going, the car drive is a bit long id say.” You lifted yourself up from the couch and followed them, still looking down at your game. You plopped into the car once again, and just gazed out the window.

“Where are we goin’ again?”

“Just a pancake house, nothing too special y’know?”

“Mkay, thanks Mom.” You looked back down at your phone to see that ‘Jean’ guy requesting you again, you found it kinda weird but you decided to look at his account. He was attractive. No he was fucking hot, he had a shiny ash blonde mullet, which some of it was a darker shade, somewhat brown. His hair had a slight wave at the ends adding just a bit of volume to it. You scrolled a little bit more to find out he had a chihuahua and a shitzu. He was also doing good in school and — you double tapped. You mentally cursed at yourself, you just liked a post from not too long ago but still he’d now know you’re looking at his account. Out of guilt you let him follow you, you had to now atleast. You just turned off your phone and flipped it over, ignoring what just happened.

“You alright? You look sick.” You looked up to your mom who was looking at you from the front seat, “If its about ‘wonderboy’ don’t be too scared you two used to be so close, you’ll click instantly!”

“Mkay Mom, and I’m fine.” You acted as if you totally didn’t just stalk a hot guy on Instagram, gawk over him then like one of his posts from a few weeks back. You were totally fine, what else could happen. You were incredibly tempted to go look at his page again, his arms always seemed to fill his sleeves from what you saw and, he had a stubble which was just a shade darker than his hair. He dressed incredibly well and looked like he smelled like fancy cologne. You checked your phone and it already had been thirty minutes.

“Mom when’ll we get there?”

“It’s just done the road, relax honey.” You sighed in relief, your stomach had been churning the past few minutes and you needed out of that humid car. Once you parked and looked at the time, it was half past eleven, the exact time of your reservation.

“Alright, we’re at a patio table so you two walk their i’ll go talk with the bouncer to see if the others are here.” Your dad patted your head before walking off to check in, you followed behind your mom. With your hands in your pocket you guys turned the corner and a certain someone caught your eye, the guy from instagram, Jean was it? He was sitting in the patio, her hair was thrown into a ponytail and a chocolate brown like some of Jeans hair, she was cute and obviously his mother.

“Oh my goodness, Kirschtein is that you?!” Your eyes widened, these were the people you were joining for brunch. “Jean! You’ve grown so much, you look very handsome now.”

“Thank you ma’am, Y/N is that you?” He smiled widely before stepping closer to you and embracing you in a bear hug, you let out a small defeated laugh before hugging him back, “How’ve you been? How long has it been?”

“Since preschool.” Your gazes went to his mom who stole you from Jean and hugged you even tighter. You felt the life being squeezed out of your ribs, even though you barely remembered these hugs. And the scent you’ve always loved, both Jean and his mom smelled like vanilla and mint, it was pretty ironic. You all took a seat waiting for your dad to come back before you ordered anything. Jean was seated across from you, his legs were a bit on your end of the table but you just ignored it, everything seemed so awkward yet comfortable all at the same time. Jeans presence was just comforting and made you feel warm and whenever he talked to you and kept eye contact? That made you wanna scream, you two hadn’t seen eachother for years but instantly clicked.

Once your Dad came back, he had five menus in hand and gave them all out. You all talked amongst yourselves about what you’ll get to eat, and what you’ll be getting to drink, ultimately you settled on a coffee, so did your Dad. While Jeans mom and your Mom giggled about some drink they used to always share before ordering two of them, Jean got a decaf. It seemed plain but you weren’t one to talk. You had been engulfed in whatever it was you were doing on your phone until Jean kicked you lightly and gestured to his own phone. You clicked on instagram and saw he had messaged you there.

“Hey, so are we gonna talk abt you stalking me orr?”

“No, we’re not Jean, please just forget abt it.”

After that your drinks had finally came, now you all had to order you got just some pancakes, nothing special. Jean got an omelette while his and your Mom shared french toast and your Dad got waffles. The conversation over brunch went well, Jean shared about what he was studying in during the last school year, as did you. Your familys just caught up with what had been going on, Jean had adopted two dogs over the past year — which you already knew, he was doing good in school and his studies. You just sat there kind of awkwardly being just an hour or two before you were stalking him and thinking about how hot he was, you were snapped back into reality when his Mom asked you something.

“Have you been with anybody recently?”

“Mom! You can’t just ask her that, we haven’t seen her in years..” Jean whipped his head to the side looking at his Mom.

“No Jean it’s fine, but I haven’t.”

“Oh really? You’re so pretty? I find that hard to believe!” You smiled at her, she was obviously trying to be nice. You all continued eating, Jean paying close attention to his phone.

“Well Jean, have you seen anyone recently?”

“Mom!! Seriously?” You were confused about what your moms were trying to pull off, asking random questions back to back on the same subject.

“Y/N it’s fine. And No Mrs. L/N, I actually haven’t.” Jean stretched backwards, his arm muscles slightly flexing while he did so.

“Hmmm, interesting.. Well, finish up everyone.” You had already finished eating so all you had to do was wait for everyone else to finish. You played that same dumb cooking game for what felt like an eternity your Mom finally tapped your shoulder to get your attention.

“We should be heading out, by the way you two are invited for dinner tomorrow, feel free to come by anytime!” You got up with your mom, waving a goodbye to Jean and his mother. Now you had to endure a car ride most likely of your mother blabbing on about how you should get with Jean, that was something you didn’t wanna think or talk about.

You napped in the car for most of the ride until your phone started to buzz in your pocket, which woke you up from your dazed state. You checked the notification to see Jean had sent you a message.

“Y’know you got pretty hot right?”

“What? Jean thats random.”

“Fuck I mean that in the most respectful way possible.”

“Mkay.” You rolled your eyes, although you could say the same about him you were fond of his boldness but that was definitely a worry for another day. All you were worried about was what you’ll be doing now with him coming over again. Were you going to make a move in the same way he did or ignore his antics completely? And that was the last thought you had before falling asleep again.

#jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein #jean kirstein #jean kirsten x reader #aot x reader #aot #snk x reader #snk #skin. ➷

118 notes · View notes

bl00dgutsgl0ry · 3 years

Text

I Don’t Lose.

Pairing - Tartaglia/Childe/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - VERY mild angst, so much so that I wasn’t even going to tag it at first.

Other Comments - I promise I am working on asks! I just kinda wanted to post this little drabble, since I was working on it before I went on hiatus! Anyway be prepared for my garabgo posts to come back up on your pages >:^))

Childe’s work schedule was horrendous; and calling it a schedule is an overstatement if anything. Now (Y/n) knew that Childe’s time out for work was going to be long, but it seemed as though recently the guy just couldn’t catch a break. He’s been gone for about three months now, with the only contact being a couple of hastily written letters.

(Y/n) and Childe were never officially dating each other, but they had gotten pretty close over the time that they’d known each other in Liyue. Though he’s not the only person the young traveler had gotten close to. (Y/n) was extremely sociable and charismatic, which is what drew Childe to them, but it also attracted a certain ex Geo Archon.

Zhongli seemed to always be asking for (Y/n) to accompany him every where or vice versa, borderline addicted to their presence with him. He had grown used to it when they were trying to set up the Lantern Rite a couple months back. Childe was still in Liyue at that point in time so the Geo Archon knew to keep his distance, but now with the Harbinger out of the picture he didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

Zhongli was aware of how Childe felt about (Y/n) even if Childe himself wasn’t fully aware of his feelings, and in addition to that he was also Childe’s friend too. So there was a small voice in the back of his mind telling him that it was wrong to try to steal (Y/n) while Childe was off on a mission. He couldn’t help but think though, that he would be a better match for the traveler. He wasn’t going to be gone in a different part of Teyvat for months at a time, and if they permitted him to he could even accompany them on THEIR travels; something Childe was unable to do.

Everyday Zhongli made it his mission to get (Y/n) tea to help start of their day, and much to his ignorance the traveler had started to expect the small cup of professionally brewed tea at their doorstep with a soft smiling Zhongli gently holding it out to them, before being invited inside the small apartment in the middle of the busy harbor.

And today was no different, at least not to Zhongli or (Y/n). The traveler smoothly opened their door, being greeted by the ex Archon before opening the door a little wider for him to walk in and set the cup down.

On a completely different side of Teyvat, it was Childe’s last day in Inazuma for the mission he was sent on, yearning to see the young traveler who had captured his heart. He had sent out a letter to them about a week before to give it enough time to reach them, telling them that he was going to be Liyue for a while after this mission which he was excited for, before quickly jotting down the place he wanted to meet (Y/n) and the estimated time he would be getting there; 13:00 sharp.

It was now 15:03 and (Y/n) and Zhongli had set out on a daily commission which he had offered to help them with. It was always fun when Zhongli came along with (Y/n) on their mission, as it got lonely traveling through this unknown place with no one but Paimon by their side; so the company and help was greatly appreciated.

Childe on the other hand, was not having as great of a time, as he had waited around in the previously mentioned spot for about an hour before giving up and deciding to go straight to their apartment. There had to be a logical explanation as to why they never came, maybe they didn’t get the letter? Childe had a habit of letting himself into (Y/n)’s apartment and today was no exception. As he quickly picked the doors lock and let himself in, he once again was let down, as his expectations were not met and (Y/n) was no where to be found in their cramped apartment.

He couldn’t help but search around their home, looking for the one thing that would have notified them of his arrival; half heartedly hoping that it wasn’t going to be their wanting them to have a good reason as to why they never came. But after a couple minutes of searching, he found the familiar envelope with his name written across the corner in fancy calligraphy. It was sat atop the small side table next to the young travelers bed; irritating Childe even more. Not only had (Y/n) not even bothered to open the envelope, but they went through the length of setting it next to their bed, giving them another chance to open it this morning.

Meanwhile Zhongli and (Y/n) had just finished up the rest of the commissions they needed to get done, but (Y/n) couldn’t help but feel as though they were forgetting about something. Zhongli was in Heaven right now, he loves spending the entirety of his day with them, nothing brought him more joy than seeing the way (Y/n) would celebrate to themselves a little when finishing off a couple treasure hoarders, or an angry hoard of hillichurls. The day was coming to an end though, and it was starting to get dark so the idea of getting food then going home really resonated with the two.

As usual once they got into the harbor again they went straight to Wanmin Restaurant, as much as they liked the other expensive restaurants that Liyue Harbor was full of, nothing could compare to to homestyle meals of Wanmin. As the pair was finishing up their meals, Zhongli had placed a large hand atop (Y/n)’s.

“(Y/n) it has been a pleasure spending the day with you as always. I thoroughly enjoyed fighting the ruin guard with you, and I am disappointed that our day is coming to an end. I was wondering if you would let me accompany you again tomorrow?” Zhongli’s hand had began to gently hold (Y/n) and their face was dusted a light shade of rose. Zhongli sat their waiting for what felt like an eternity for their answer; he spent this time memorizing every detail on their face as to never forget it.

(Y/n) smiled shyly and nodded before giving Zhongli’s hand a subtle squeeze and finishing off their meal. Zhongli could feel a sense of dread forming in his heart. He new Childe was back in Liyue, which he knew because he had spotted him staring at the back of (Y/n)’s back for the entirety of their meal; How the traveler didn’t notice this he would never know.

(Y/n) noticed the small change in Zhongli’s demeanor and the way his eyes stayed fixated on something, causing (Y/n) to turn around and see what the ex Archon was staying at so intensely. When their eyes met with Childe’s cerulean ones, they gasped quickly getting up and rushing over to him. Zhongli sighed, before quickly footing the bill and going to follow (Y/n).

“Childe I didn’t realize you were coming back today! When did you get here?” There was something odd in Childe’s eyes, as the way he was staring at Zhongli with such malice made (Y/n)’s blood chill a little.

“Yeah, no wonder you didn’t know (Y/n). You disregarded my letter like trash. I got here a little after noon, and waited for you at Wangshu in for almost an hour.” Childe’s voice was serious and deep, something the traveler had rarely heard come from Childe. (Y/n) pulse was racing, the look in Childe’s eye was never a good thing.

“And you. I had a thought of you doing this but I brushed it off cause I never thought you would. Clearly I was wrong. But here’s something you don’t know Zhongli. I. Don’t. Lose. So your advances on (Y/n) aren’t going to do anything. I am willing to do anything to anyone who tried to take away my world, you are not an exception just because we’re friends.”

Zhongli rolled his eyes before chuckling to himself, only further infuriating Childe; and before anyone could stop him the Harbinger pushed Zhongli to the ground, quickly materializing his hydro blades and pointing them at the ex Archons throat, his amber eyes widening with shock.

“Like I said Rex. I don’t lose. Don’t ever touch what’s mine again, no matter how long I’m out of Liyue for.” Childe’s arm wrapped tightly around (Y/n)’s should, roughly pulling them against his side; before walking off and leaving Zhongli on the ground. The walk back to (Y/n)’s was filled with tense silence. Once they had gotten back into their home, Childe unloaded everything.

“Why (Y/n)? Why would you not even try to open my letter? Have you gotten tired of me? I know my work is crazy and hectic but you have to be mine. I’ll go crazy if I see you with anyone else.”

“I never got a letter from you Ajax! Zhongli had been bringing my mail to me so I only ever saw what he had given me. I need you to trust me! Doing that to Zhongli in the middle of the harbor was uncalled for and you know it.” Childe’s eyes were staring into (Y/n).

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to Zhongli later, but tonight it’s just gonna be you and me. I need to make up for all the time I’ve been gone. Who knows what Zhongli has done to you.” Childe’s signature smirk was back on his face, bringing (Y/n) an odd sense of comfort before nodding in agreement. (Y/n) giggled in response before lightly punching Childe’s arm.

“So does this mean we’re official?” Childe barked out a laugh before pressing a soft kiss to (Y/n)’s lips.

“What do you think?”

#Childe #genshin impact childe #childe x reader #genshin childe #childe imagines #Tartaglia #genshin impact tartaglia #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia #zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #genshin zhongli #rex lapis #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagine #zhongli imagines

124 notes · View notes

cultgambles · 3 years

Text

Forgotten Lunch (Jumin Han x Reader)

This was originally posted as a little blurb but why the hell not put the whole thing am i rite?? Like, i wasn’t sure if tumblr would take it down bc of the whole ban, but the other writings have been up haha

Summary: Jumin thinks his MC comes to the office for a little chat, but MC has other plans...

n s f w, office (semi-public), being walked in on, bjs, vaginal fingering

wc: 2.1k

Masterlist | Requests? open

“Oh! MC! What a pleasant surprise! How are you doing today?”

“I’m wonderful Jaehee, hope Jumin isn’t working you to the bone too much?” you reply to the secretary with a small smile.

“Same old same old,” Jaeehee sighs. “Is that lunch for him? He’s free right now if you would like to go up.”

“Aww, I’ll tell him to chill a bit, okay? Maybe he’ll listen this time. And I have one for you, too. Don’t eat those bento boxes all the time, they’re not the healthiest,” you chide, reaching into your bag and pulling out some pasta you had made. Jaehee takes the meal graciously and tells you she has to go back to work otherwise she’d work more overtime than usual.

The walk to the elevator and the ride up seemed to take a millennium, and when the final ding rang, you practically jumped out and ran to his office at the end of the hallway.

You try to stifle your smile, breathing a deep breath and knocking twice on the door.

“Come in,” Jumin’s muffled voice wafts through the door. He looks up slightly, his eyes brightening when he sees you.

“My love, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he says, starting to stand.

“Don’t worry! You just stay right there, I’ve only come to bring you some lunch. I made Alfredo,” You smile, closing the door behind you.

“MC, you didn’t have to make me anything. I have those private chefs you know.”

“I thought it would be cute to bring you some food!” you pout, making your way around the desk after placing the thermos down. You lean forward behind him, running your hands down his chest, placing a small kiss on his cheek. You swear Jumin purrs before clearing his throat, and patting his leg for you to sit. You do, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and neck, leaning in to pepper kisses on his face. He pulls you flush against his body, and you trade kisses for a while. You sigh, leaning in the crook of his neck.

“Oh, how I wish to abandon everything right now,” he sighs softly, pressing the words into your neck.

“Why can’t you? Let’s just go home and relax...but also let Jaehee have the rest of the day off too?” You say with an afterthought.

“You know I can’t, kitten.”

“Fineeee, I’ll leave you be then,” You swing one leg over his, appearing to get off, but you plop your ass right back down, basically straddling his leg, and take notice of his computer screen. “Oooh, what are you working on?”

“Just some of the new products I want to export. Though, I am having to fight with my father about it because he just doesn’t think cat products would sell,” he replies, sucking in a breath of air. “What do you think you are doing?” he asks, strained as you slightly rock back and forth to get into a more comfortable position. His large hand finds purchase on your hip, sending tingles throughout your body.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say. That’s a lie though. You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re grinding your hips into his leg, dry humping him. The friction of your sliding back and forth makes you let out a small moan at how good it feels.

Jumin swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “So, this is the game you want to play? Let’s see it through then,” he mumbles lowly, leaning his head on his other hand. You lean forward to place your hands on his desk, moving more furiously against his leg, your body finally getting that friction it craved from when he touched you this morning. The feel of your panties against his pant leg rub together deliciously, and you’re tempted to hike up your yellow sundress to feel more of it.

“O-oh! Jumin,” you moan out, rolling your hips more deeply, feeling that sensation in your belly. His hand on your hip never leaves you, almost guiding you to your finish. The knot unravels, bursting through your body and clouding your senses. You shudder, feeling the waves of pleasure die down. You lean back against him, panting slightly. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Have fun there, sweetheart?” His voice is pretty stable for what you just did, but you definitely feel something poking your lower back.

“Mmm, yeah!” You say with a smile, getting up on shaky legs. “Well, I’m gonna go home and you finish up your work, okay?”

Before you can get very far, however, he catches your wrist and pulls you back onto his lap.

“You’re very naughty today, aren’t you? Did you want to be punished by daddy that badly?” Jumin says, running a hand down your stomach while the other holds your breast.

“I just missed you, s’all…” your voice goes up an octave as he bites your sweet spot.

“Well, we’re going to finish what you started then. Lucky for you, you came at the beginning of my lunch break, hmm?”

“Y-yes.”

“Did you plan that?”

“Maybe,” you say slyly.

“Really?” His hand stops just above the hem of your dress, just barely ghosting over your thigh.

“I planned it, you got me,” you whine, grinding your butt down.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks, pulling your dress up so the lower half of you is exposed. “You’re even wearing the lace red panties I like.”

“Yeah, so don’t rip them this time,” you quip, reaching behind to palm at his dick through his pants.

“I have all the money in the world to get you a new pair.” he rubs two fingers at your clit through the fabric. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

“Jumin?” you squeak out.

“Yes?”

“Why is it a pair of panties even though it’s like one item?”

“Love, you say the most unsexy things at the worst times,” he chuckles, “but I think it’s because of the two leg holes.”

“Mmm, m-makes sense,” you stutter out as his fingers finally slip between the fabric and into your folds.

“I’m taking off the fucking dress,” you say reaching for the zipper. For the moment, Jumin doesn’t hesitate to throw it over you and into a corner of the room. You also reach behind your back, unclasping your bra and throwing that somewhere too.

“You like being exposed like this don’t you? Someone could walk in right now and that’d get you off even more, wouldn’t it?”

“I also like you fully clothed while I’m naked,” you purr. Jumin raises a brow, but continues the assault on your pussy.

“Well, I’m not complaining.”

Your lewd sounds fill the quiet air, and you feel the familiar knot in your abdomen. You come in Jumin’s hand, and you turn your head to give him an open mouthed kiss. Breaking the kiss, he pulls his long fingers out of you not before licking the slick off.

You stand over him slightly and lean down to undo his zipper and pull down his boxers. His cock springs free, the tip leaking pre cum. You reach down between your legs and swipe your fingers through the folds, wetting them. Your hand reaches up to his member and you grip around it, running your hand up and down the shaft.

Jumin makes a guttural sound as your mouth moves on him. He reaches his hand down to run through your hair.

Two knocks at the door.

You pause an anxious fear in your throat. Jumin clears his throat, “What is it?”

“It’s me, Sir, I’m here to remind you of your 2 o’clock meeting in about thirty minutes.” Jaehee says through the door. “Can I come in to give you the briefing?”

“You may.”

“Wow, ballsy,” you whisper, loud enough for him to hear. He smirks slightly and adjusts his tie.

“Well, you’re meeting with Mr. Phantomhive to discuss collaborating on a project. His company hasn’t really gotten footing here in South Korea,” Jaehee remarks.

Meanwhile, you’re bobbing your head on Jumin’s length, the thought of the both of you getting caught working you up. You massage his balls and try to suck in as much as you can, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Jumin huffs, making Jaehee pause to ask if he’s doing alright.

“Is that all? I have to finish up this cat project outline soon,” he says quietly.

“Ah, one more thing, Mr. Phantomhive hates being called short or looked down upon, so please try your best to behave!”

“Fine fine,” he waves her off, “I assume Meeting Room 3?”

“Yes Sir, I’ll come get you once Mr. Phantomhive arrives.”

“Good. Please close the door on the way out.” You hear Jaehee shuffle out awkwardly, the door clicking behind her.

“MC, you’re very distracting,” Jumin says, looking down at you.

“Yes, I know.”

“Why don’t you come up here then?” You pop off, licking your lips slightly and pull down your panties so it hangs off your ankle.

You give him a quick kiss before your hand reaches down for his dick. His hands lay on your hips as you sink your drenched core down, helping you better situate. You let out a moan as he fills you up, not a spot without him there.

“J-Jumin, you f-feel so good in me…” your arms wrap around the both of you, one gripping the chair and the other in his hair, pulling ever so slightly.

Not even 20 seconds later, you’re already bouncing, and he’s meeting every one perfectly.

“Love, why don’t you turn around so I can look at your pretty face?”

“But I don’t want to get up,” you whine.

“That’s an order, sweetheart,” he says, slightly lifting you up.

“Ooh, you know I love when you do that. I guess I can’t say no to that now, can I?” You turn to face him and fully sit this time, your heels just above his knees.

“I love looking at your face, the way it contorts into pleasure as I give it to you raw,” he growls, latching onto one of your breasts. You throw your head back in ecstasy, arching your back more as he pumps into you at a steady pace.

“Mmm...go faster..please. Absolutely wreck me,” you beg. That really seemed to get him going, his pace more erratic and his fingers digging into your sides. You lean down to kiss him, his mouth already slightly parted. His tongue instantly finds its way into your mouth and he groans into it.

“MC, I can’t last much longer, he pants.”

“Come in me, Daddy. Let’s have little Jumin’s and MC’s running around soon,” you tell him.

Thick ropes of cum fill your cervix, as you come yourself for the third time. Jumin holds you close as the both of you come down from your highs.

“I love you, Jumin,” you say, pressing your forehead against his.

“I love you more,” he whispers sweetly. “Oh how you do me.”

The phone on Jumin’s desk beeps, startling you both. “Mr. Han? Your appointment starts in 5 minutes. I’ll be up in a few,” the voice says.

“Oh I do not want to go to this meeting anymore,” Jumin says, “Let’s just stay like this.”

“You need to though, Mr. Phantomhive’s candy is really good and I haven’t had any since our trip to England,” You remark, getting off him and handing him a tissue.

“That’s reason enough,” he shrugs, cleaning up a bit and fixing his hair. Meanwhile, you slip your dress back on and stuff your bra in your purse.

“See you later, love,” you smile, leaning up to peck his cheek, and fix his tie.

“You’ll hopefully be seeing me earlier than planned,” he says, brushing down your hair.

“Oh? You gonna give Jaehee the day off?”

“Sure, yes. I’ll do that.”

“Thank you. Ellie and I will be waiting for your return...though I’m sorry I took you away from your lunch,” you say with a slight frown.

“I’ll eat a good dinner. So good until I have my fill,” he says in a sultry voice.

“Okay, tiger, calm down,” you laugh. “Bye for reals now.”

“MC? You’re still here?” Jaehee opens the door, a surprised look on her face. “I didn’t see you earlier when you walked in?”

“You came up? I must of been in the bathroom..Nice seeing you!” You smile at your friend and briskly walk out, the embarrassment of what you and your CEO-in-line just did mere minutes before.

“Mr. Han, are you ready for your meeting?”

“Yes, of course. Let’s get this over with.”

#jumin han #jumin x mc #jumin x reader #jumin smut #mm #mystic messenger #mystic messenger smut #Smut #lemon #fanfic #fanfiction #mysme

376 notes · View notes

snowbellewells · 3 years

Text

CSSNS21: “The Belle Dame Emma” {Part Two}

I am so, so sorry that it has taken me this long to post Part Two of this story. The good news is: it’s Part Two of Three, so you shouldn’t have to wait too long for the conclusion now. I went back and forth over where this one should end, and how much background and explanation to give; I hope you will still enjoy it as you did Part One. I was really touched and encouraged by the lovely feedback I got on it! :) Without keeping you further, here’s Part Two...

Summary: Legend has it that the fae woman in the meadow will ensnare any who dare enter her domain, but the knight who chances a meeting can tell there is more to the story than superstition and gossip has allowed. The path to the truth and redemption may be fraught with dangers - to the both of them - but is it not the sworn duty of a true knight to help any who may be in need?

Part One HERE or on AO3

Part Two

“I set her on my pacing steed,

And nothing else saw all day long,

For sidelong would she bend, and sing

A faery’s song.”

That same night at the village inn, Killian Jones quietly watched the jostling, laughing, and boisterous crowd that swirled around him, keeping to himself at a table in the common room’s corner by the large hearth fire. The ale was cool and refreshing, the stew and bread homemade, warm and filling, but he found himself unable to enjoy it. His mind was still back in the meadow with the tormented maiden, beautiful and yet clearly in pain; his spirit was troubled for her sake, and yet at a loss as to how he could offer aid.

Perhaps he could learn some background on the woman or her secluded haunt from the locals and revelers there that night. Looking around him, the knight sought out others who appeared more somber and less addled by drink and bawdy pursuit of the serving girls. Many were the tables full of loud boasts and laughter, games of dice and shouted challenges, but there were others on the outskirts like himself, more interested in food to strengthen them on their way and warming themselves by the fire before returning to the chill night air and darkness. Though his morning’s traveling company seemed to have gotten farther than he had expected, perhaps not catching up to them had been a boon. His questions and attempts at conversation would cause much less of a stir as a single rider, alone and unassuming. Large groups tended to draw attention, no matter how honorably they behaved, and he sensed his curiosity would make enough of a disturbance as it were.

Along the facing wall, practically tucked behind the end of the bar, was another table at the edge of the revelry. In this flicker of the shadows, was another less populated table; the two men seated there eating their meals and talking quietly amongst themselves. They appeared well at home, with the ease of folks who visited often and had long since claimed their place. So, figuring them for locals, Killian began to carefully cross the room toward them, trying to draw as little notice as possible.

Once he reached the pair, he stood before them, offering a short nod in greeting before speaking. “Greetings, gentlemen. For the price of another round, might I join you for a spell?”

The two men, both a little rumpled and weary, but not seeming bad sorts, looked at each other curiously, but then shrugged, and the one on the right gestured to an empty seat. “Aye, if it please you.”

Killian took the empy seat, signalling the server and ordering another round before broaching the subject which most weighed on his mind. He calmly sipped from his refilled cup, and debated just how to proceed without sounding a lunatic and running the other men off.

In fact, before he could finish arranging his words and open his mouth to speak, the slightly younger on his left, with a shrewd look on his face and curious focus spoke up. “You aren’t from these parts, are you?” he questioned bluntly, clearly already well aware of the answer.

Killian let himself chuckle, though a bit surprised and taken aback by the other’s forthright manner. Yet, if he wished to have honesty from these folks, it was only right he offer honest answers himself. “Aye, you’re quite right,” he confirmed.

“Well then,” the other pressed, “what brings you here, and wishing to talk to us at that? Our little hamlet isn’t of much note. Most just ride on through, but that doesn’t mean we hold with any troublemakers or unsavory types causing trouble or affecting the safety of our people.” He got this out in a burst that was clearly meant as warning, still eying the newcomer warily.

But then his companion, the older gentleman who had first welcomed Killian to sit, held out a staying hand toward his friend. His eyes were calmer, though no less sharp or intelligent. It seemed, however, that age and experience had leant him a bit more perception of people. The slight greying of his dark hair near his temples gave that away as he spoke up with a quiet sort of command. “No need for that now, William. This man means no harm; in fact, he carries himself as one of the traveling knights who protect our borders and are owed our respect and gratitude. Am I right, sir?”

Killian tipped his head in deference, impressed at how he might have known, and moved aside his cloak so both could see the identifying coat of arms upon his breastplate and quality of the sword at his side, which had also been well-hidden by the mud-splattered, loose traveling clothes, but clearly proclaimed his occupation and standing. “Aye, you are,” were all the words Killian needed to speak.

“Apologies,” the younger villager hurried to say, with an apologetic bow of his own head. “We have had some trouble of late - not foreign invaders or dragons, you understand - nothing worth your notice, but one can’t be too careful. I want to see my neighbors and children safe and able to live without fear.”

“I am not offended,” Killian assured. “Caution is always wise.” He truly was not. If anything, he felt more certain that he had picked the right people from whom to seek information; good, common souls who were honorable and protective of their home and loved ones, and in that, must know the area and any perceived or rumored threats or strange personages thereabouts.

Each man reclined once more in his seat and calm settled over the table, despite Killian still feeling a tension and insistence pressing upon him. He needed answers. That lovely and heartsore woman he had seen just a few hours past still lingered in his mind; her eyes and her tone beseeching him to leave for his own sake, but the loneliness and pain just behind her anxious command kept pulling him back.

With a last fortifying swallow of his ale, Killian leaned forward, not wishing to be overheard by the numerous others close by. “I do not intend to bother you good folks any longer than necessary, nor to bring any trouble upon your fair village. All I seek is a bit of information.”

“Fair enough then,” the elder returned, meeting his eyes squarely and offering an encouraging nod. “Go right ahead. If I know anything of help, I will gladly share it with you.”

“Well...ah…” Killian cleared his throat hesitantly, though knowing there was nothing for it but to press on. “I realize this may sound quite outlandish, but I was riding past a meadow, just a few miles east of here earlier in the afternoon. I was part of a larger group, but something almost compelled me to turn aside and gain a closer look. It was a lovely spot, peaceful with birds calling and plants swaying in the breeze, calm, and as I followed a rough path further on, it was almost as though the rest of the world faded away. There was a pool of still water and some sort of a cavern standing on its far bank.”

He paused, relieved that neither of his listeners were laughing at him or scoffing in disbelief. They both seemed quite rapt by his tale. Determined now to see it through, Killian finished, “Though I felt at ease, my horse was restless. I dismounted to attempt calming him, and suddenly a gorgeous woman appeared at my side. She spoke with me for a short time, and she was so enchanting I found myself unsure if she were human, or if she were there at all rather than a figment of my imagination. Then, suddenly, a wind swept up and all turned grey and stormy. This frightening look came over her, and she bade me gone - urging me to leave while I still could as if her life depended on it. And yet she did not flee herself. Leaving her churned in my gut, goes against the very code I follow, but the more I lingered it seemed only to worsen her distress, until finally I returned to my previous course, which brought me here.”

He paused then, swallowing hard as he fully met the men’s eyes for the first time since he had begun his tale, having either been staring at his hands or the scarred wooden table, or into his mind’s eye to recall all he could of the strange encounter. Both seemed stunned, before glancing to each other uneasily then back at him. The more outspoken breathed, “The Belle Dame,” with a strange sort of fearful awe. “You’ve seen her and lived to tell of it.”

Dark brows furrowing in confusion, Killian found himself repeating the title curiously, “Belle Dame, you say? Who is she? How did she come to be out there alone?”

“Ach, no! I think not, Sir Knight! You should be counting your blessings ye made it back to the road and forget all about that place!” He stood abruptly, as if nervous to be speaking any further on the subject, and thanking the knight for the drink, said his goodbyes before hastily taking his leave.

His hurried exit left Killian all the more confused as he turned to his other new acquaintance. “What was all of that?” he questioned.

“The younger generation,” the greying gentleman sighed, shaking his head. “Blood hot and ready for action, and yet such an edgy, superstitious lot. I can tell you what I’ve heard, though I’ve never put much stock in such fantastic tales. Some do, however. Will there being one of them, as you could see.”

“I would be most obliged for your enlightenment,” Killian replied, waiting patiently.

“The story goes, around these parts, that some years ago, the fae folk made their home in this corner of the kingdom. Most folk didn’t even know they were there a large portion of the time; they don’t like to be seen, working their magic in the background. However, flowers and trees grew more beautifully and with greater bounty, and crops and gardens were also healthier, producing all the grower could need. It was commonly believed to be a blessing from their kind.”

Killian nodded, even as the old villager shook his head a little bemusedly, not sure what to make of his own tale. The knight was curious and concerned enough to take any scrap of information he got. He had to start somewhere in unraveling the mystery. “Well,” he prompted, clenching his hand not to grasp the laconic storyteller by the shoulders and try to hurry him along, “what happened?”

“Don’t rightly know myself,” his companion reminded. “Not sure how much reality is in these local legends… but, the story goes that those faeries in these parts were good, their magic pure, natural and unpolluted. Or that was so until one of their number wanted more. This outlier sought greater abilities, more magic, to hold power and rule of the people for himself. The tales say he amassed so much that he became unstable, and his mind was twisted toward Darkness. He attacked his own leaders, and his own people, and after the confrontation, it seemed all their folk disappeared - whether relocated or ended, none claim to know.”

Again, Killian strove for patience, not much closer to what had happened to his mysterious lady in the meadow than he had been before the conversation had begun. Swallowing down his impatience, he prodded once more, “Be that as it may, how does it involve the woman I saw?”

“Right, right you are, good sir,” the man acknowledged. “Pardon an old man’s rambling. As to the woman you saw, best I can recollect, folks telling these stories believed her to be daughter of the good and rightful fae rulers, their princess and only child. They say she was somehow cursed by this Dark One who spoiled the faery’s haven. She was forced to seek companionship and yet always be alone, for though she draws people in, her voice and her touch enthrall and entrap, making those who fall under her spell, unable to leave, even as their life is drained away. Supposedly that was the reason for her naming as ‘La Belle Dame san Merci’.”

As the man ceased talking, he picked up his drink once more, draining the last of it while Killian attempted to reconcile all he had heard. His next words were spoken more to himself than his tablemate. “So this was done to her? Not a power she cultivated or sought herself? That explains her distress… and why I was pulled there from the road. She must be desperate to break free…”

Whether or not he was still being addressed, the grizzled villager felt it only fair to remind, “Not wanting such powers would not make them any less dangerous, mind you. Though you’d be chasing a lot of old tales and superstitions, most likely.”

Killian brought himself back to the present with an effort. From here it would be best to keep his own council. “I thank you for your time and information,” he spoke in farewell, standing and pulling two gold coins from the satchel at his hip to place on the table for the man’s trouble. “Goodnight.”

His agile grace honed by years of swordfights and daring feats, horseback riding, dodging arrows and flames, allowed him to slip rapidly back through the crowd and away from the inn with haste, almost as if he had never been there at all. As outlandish as the tale he had heard might seem, Killian had seen many things in life which would have been unbelievable until he stood facing them. Somehow he simply knew the villager’s tale had the right of it. Though he might not yet know how, he was determined to aid the fae princess - to see her free of the bindings of loneliness and fear that held her with all speed. If she had meant to capture him, he would not be standing there free; she had some control and a clearly honest and pure heart, despite the curse which had caused such anguish. It was that anguish in her eyes he could not stop seeing over and over in his mind which would not allow him to delay.

~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~

The following morning dawned bright and warm, even as the sun pierced through the canopy of leaves on the trees surrounding the cavern where Emma had sunk in despair the previous evening. It had all seemed so hopeless, she remembered sadly, her heavy limbs stretching as she sat up and watched the already powerful sunlight of a summer’s morn melting away the vivid pinks and oranges of the sunrise which had painted the sky and shining heatedly down between fluffy clouds on the green oasis around her.

There was no trace of the storm and turmoil that had risen from nowhere mere hours before, and she shuddered to think that perhaps that howling wind and frighteningly discolored green-grey sky had been her doing, even without conscious intention. Her curse had demanded that handsome knight’s being, and yet she saw no trace of him, no sign he had failed to get away, and so she thanked providence for that small gift. It was why she had withdrawn here, trying to remain unseen. She did not wish to take a life - any life - and yet she did not know how far her powers to withstand the control would go.

And that man, in particular… She had never seen such a specimen, not of human flesh and sinew. His loss would have been all the more devastating for the beauty it woud have taken from the world. Not only in looks, but there had been something noble about him, chivalry and honor in his bearing and his actions toward her. And the depths of those pure, stunning blue eyes… they knew sadness, but showed kindness and compassion as well, reaching out to span the gulf between them. It was a foolish wish; a hopeless sentence to ruin for him and more guilt and pain for her, but she had wished all the same to let him remain there, to have him by her side, to no longer be so alone.

Yet so far, over the course of years since she had been afflicted, she had managed not to take a life, despite what the Dark One had intended in his fury and hate and the fearful rumors that circled in the nearby village. She would not have such a one fall victim to her first failure of will. Oh, she knew those mortals who dwelt in the vicinity believed otherwise, that any person who turned up missing was blamed on her and the lure of her deadly beauty. Still, painful as the misconception was, Emma found she was glad for it. The fearful avoidance of her hiding place kept those people safe.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the deserted princess - for local legend did have that part right - meandered aimlessly toward the pool’s still waters, trailing her delicate hand through the tall grass and wildflowers as she moved amidst their riotous profusion. Only halting when she stood in nearly the same spot she had the day before - next to the dashing knight and his steed - Emma closed her eyes to picture what might once have been.

Years ago, it had not been just this solitary meadow, but a whole kingdom hidden in plain sight. The beauty, enchantment, and natural abundance had stretched for miles and miles, making the corner of the human’s country one of the best to live in and work. As it housed her parents’ glorious court within its hills and dells, valleys and heights, the fae people’s blessing upon the land profited all manner of men and beasts in the area along with their own kind.

Emma could still picture (when she let herself and felt she could bear the plucking of her heartstrings) her mother and father’s thrones hidden deep in a woodland clearing, both raised seats formed of twisted whorls of tree roots and twined with exquisite leaves and flowers as gorgeous as any jewels or precious metals human royalty would gather. It had always seemed the sun filtered down through the treetops in sparkling shafts, more stunning than anywhere else. The diffused light had cast a halo about her mother’s head, glittering all the more in setting off her kind eyes - the same alluring lively green of Emma’s own. How she missed that look of gentle understanding her mother saved just for her; though she had been queen of the entire faery realm, she had always had time for her only daughter.

Her father’s indulgent smile and his large hand cradling the back of her head when he would clasp her in his strong arms for a proud hug, was equally missed, though sometimes Emma almost dreamed she could still feel its echo. If she still lived in that peaceful, happy world she once had, the knight would have been in no danger. She could even have imagined showing him the wonders of her kingdom and opening his eyes.

True, they usually liked to hide from other beings, keeping to themselves and abstaining from the troubles and quarrels of men, that did not mean it was expressly forbidden. Her parents held the rarest magic of all between them - True Love - and they had always expressed their hope that she would know the same joy and fulfillment… wherever she might find it. She knew they would have welcomed any she saw fit, any man who was worthy, as she had somehow known right away that darkly handsome knight was.

If only that whole world were not gone.

Instead they had been forced to leave her here alone, stripped of her kingdom, her birthright, and even her family. Their faery homeland had long since vanished from this place and relocated elsewhere, as they had done for centuries when danger or discovery came too close to their borders. Emma, rathern than someday taking up leadership from her parents, had been the sacrificial lamb who allowed the rest of her people to escape free from harm.

She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself as though chilled, even in the bright sunlight. The Dark One had been adamant about that, his twisted face, maniacal eyes and shrill voice still haunting her nightmares and making her heart slam erratically against her ribs, just as he had that horrible day he appeared in their midst. He was without remorse in his demand that all should suffer as he did. He had fully intended to leave her alone and desolate, just as he had been left, for her parents to suffer the agony of having their only child ripped away from them and lost forever as he did, and he meant all the fae world to fear him and bow to the immensity of his power, so none would dare cross him again.

With a deep sigh, she reached a hand out to trail her fingers idly in the still water before her. It was a hopeless situation; one she had endured for long enough to accept that there was no balm or ease for her loneliness - not without someone else, someone innocent - paying for it with their life. Most times she could soldier through her days, enjoying the breeze on her face, the sun as it shone down upon her, the quiet beauty of nature in this small haven she was left with. It could never measure to some sort of living company, but it did soothe her, just as the natural world did for all of her kind. So, she attempt to draw what little succor she could from the land, the flowers, and the animals around her and strove to keep anything else, even her beloved home and family, far from mind.

She had been mostly successful at the endeavor, for long chunks of time together...until yesterday. Removed from the rest of the world and ageless as she was, days and weeks, months and years, flew by, one much like another. But then the tall, dark-headed knight had entered her hidden alcove, with his gentle words and chivalrous desire to help. His earnest expression, begging her to trust him, even as she tried to warn him he was in danger, still hovered in her memory, stirring unknown feelings and a breathless, aching hope within her that she had thought buried long ago.

A single unbidden tear slid noiselessly down her cheek as she remembered just how high the cost had been the last time she had felt such distress and empathy for another and sought to aid him.

Long ago, she had encountered the Dark One’s son, a young man just about her age, as she was exploring along the very edge of the forest at the eastern border of her parents’ kingdom. His soft brown eyes had been furtive and desperate as he pled for her to keep his secret, for her not to tell anyone she had seen him. Baelfire, that was his name, he had told her earnestly, feared the way his stolen magic and quest for more and more power was twisting his father into a monster he no longer recognized as the ‘papa’ who had raised him. Emma had agreed to say nothing, and brought him food from her table and maps from her parents’ library as he hid in the forest and plotted where he might go to hide from his father’s reach. It had been dangerous, thoughtless, even more than she could have known, but her conscience simply would not allow her to act otherwise.

By the time they had realized that no matter where he went within the realm, his father would be able to track him and that the only reason he had not done so already was that Baelfire had given him a story of visiting a few cities and towns before settling in to train with his father to someday take on his legacy and mantle of power - something Baelfire wanted nothing to do with in truth. Emma had magic herself, which had made her new friend anxious at first, but unlike his sire’s, hers was natural to her. She had been born with her gifts, and as such, they were pure, light, and good. The solution finally came to her, though both dreaded it as they had become rather attached to each other by then. She must send him to another realm entirely - one completely without magic - where his father could not locate him in order to follow.

She still remembered how he had shoved an only slightly trembling hand through his mussed brown hair and then given a resolute nod, knowing it was the only way. Emma had smiled wanly, nervous but also sure she could do it for this young man who had become her friend, who deserved a life of his own choosing. Reaching out to squeeze his hand she had whispered, “I hope you will be happy there,” then stepped back. She had closed her eyes, gathering all her reserves of focus and energy, hands outstretched as light began to emanate from them and envelope Bae in a glowing sort of halo. She concentrated on the ancient words she had studied in preparation and all the knowledge her tutors had ever imparted, and at last released her command. In a brilliant flash, Baelfire was gone. She had no way of truly knowing he had reached his destination, but a strong sense of satisfaction and peace inside her made Emma believe it had worked.

The Dark One’s retribution had been swift, bitter, and severe. She was not sure how he had determined who aided his son or what exactly had been done, but when he arrived at the foot of her parents’ throne in a cloud of red smoke, he had been certain his son was lost to him, and he meant to punish the one who had made the escape possible, or to raze the entire kingdom to the ground.

Even if she hadn’t already been determined to admit to her role when the time came, she would never have let such vengeance fall on her people in her stead. Emma had stepped forward even as her mother gasped in alarm and her father moved to draw his sword and join her. She had turned to face them, love brimming in her eyes along with her unshed tears. “It’s alright,” she had promised them, begging them to understand. “I did what I thought was right, and I will bear the consequences of my choice.”

That evil, maniacal cackle had been all she heard after that, returning to awareness only when she landed in this clearing she had now dwelt in alone for longer than she had known her home before. Oh, the Dark One had returned to gloat and explain just how alone she was, that her people had moved elsewhere, and the conditions of her particular curse - what would happen to anyone she might seek out to end her isolation. Then he too had vanished, though Emma feared he was always watching.

Wiping her useless tears away, she returned to the present and stood up, determined to stop mulling over a past and future she could not change. However, when she spun away from the water, she came face-to-face with that same handsome knight who had first pierced her miserable haze the day before.

A startled yelp of surprise escaped her, not having heard anyone approach. For a moment, seeing the very one who had been ruling her thoughts standing right beside her stole her breath. Stumbling backward, her hand clutched her chest as if to still her pounding heart.

Before she could react any further, the gallant man had reached out steadying hands to clasp her elbows and keep her from falling as her sudden reeling backward knocked her off balance. “Easy, there! I did not mean to startle you,” he tried to soothe in a calming voice.

She nodded, quickly straightening and drawing in a deep breath, intent on grounding herself once more. When she glanced up to meet his gaze from beneath lowered lashes, she even offered a sheepish smile.

His smile in return faltered when the knight got a good look at her face. Emma realized too late that the fresh tear tracks must still be evident and hurried to turn her head away. Roughly calloused fingered touched her chin with a gentleness and care that seemed impossible from one so strong, clearly honed for battle and living by his sword. “What is it, Milady?” he asked with a voice as silky and soothing as his touch only addling her further. “What ails you?”

“It’s n-nothing, Sir,” she murmured unconvincingly. Even to her own ears the reassurance sounded hollow and she wondered where all her grace had gone. “Nothing you need worry yourself over.”

“But you have been crying,” he pressed, forehead furrowed with concern, and thick, sooty brows drawn low over the troubled stormy blue of his eyes. “Are you hurt?”

Seeing it wisest not to trust her failing voice any further, Emma merely shook her head, not sure how else to convince him. What was he doing back here? Why did he even care? Had she already lured him without meaning to?

She shrugged out of his grasp as gently as possible, needing to get a bit of space between them as she retreated a few steps.

He followed her a step and reached out once more, beseeching, but he did not crowd her or attempt to touch her again. “Please, Lass,” he begged, “let me help you if I can.”

‘Oh, if only he could,’ her mind wished, her fingers itching to reach out and meet his, to feel contact with another again. Yet one more tear spilled silently from her eye and she shook her head furiously, cursing her own weakness. “There’s nothing you can do,” she sighed. “Please just go, while you are still able.”

He refused however to break eye contact, not moving an inch. Emma wasn’t sure how long she had before her thrall would begin to take him over, nor exactly what would happen if her curse began to trap and drain him of his own free will. She had managed so far not to see many people at all over the ages, and when she had, she had hidden until they were safely away. Never had she been drawn to someone enough to show herself - until him - and she still wasn’t sure why. Only that it had been folly to speak to him in the beginning, and she must convince him to leave her before it was too late.

Whether it was fear or a true delirious haze on his face, her heart caught in her throat when the knight responded resolutely. “I would normally strive to do just as a lady wishes. But I cannot leave you.”

Trembling, Emma searched his handsomely chiseled features, trying to discern if he was already bewitched, no longer under his own control, or if he were simply that selfless, unable to leave another in distress if it were within his power to lend comfort. She was not sure it mattered either way; she would not see him drained of will, vigor, and eventually life altogether. Such a valiant hero could not be sentenced either to following her as some mindless shade or to be a corpse littering the ground of the place she would no longer be able to abide living.

She raised her hand to push him back, to return him to the rest of the world and safety by magical force if she must. Refraining from using her magic for so long after what it had cost her, made her hesitant, but no less determined. Her lips had parted to utter the necessary words when he caught her hands again. Her fingers pressed back against her will, and she tried to steel herself despite the temptation.

“Please, wait,” his low croon attempted to comfort her as she squeezed her eyes shut, avoiding his beguiling gaze and her own fear of drawing him in further. “I won’t hurt you.”

Forcing herself to face him once more, she was almost taken in by temptation. He was so strong, so resolute, perhaps he could resist… But then she shook those thoughts clouding her judgement and her own longing away viciously. That was merely desperation and loneliness speaking. Sighing mournfully, she drew a deep breath and replied, “No, you wouldn’t. But I will hurt you.”

“...And this is why I sojourn here

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.”

Tagging: @cssns @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop @wefoundloveunderthelight @donteattheappleshook @thisonesatellite @elizabeethan @thislassishooked @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke @ilovemesomekillianjones @xsajx @jrob64 @scientificapricot @gingerchangeling @xhookswenchx @kday426 @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @drowned-dreamer

#cssns21 #cssns fic #cs au ff #the belle dame emma #part two #fae emma #knight killian #cs three shot

39 notes · View notes

boba-beom · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I get 37 with taehyun please? Thank you!! ❤❤

*+:｡.｡ candlelit ｡.｡:+*

✧ prompt 37: “There was a power outage and now we have to have a dinner by candlelight.”

✧ pairing: Taehyun x reader

✧ genre: fluff | drabble

✧ word count: 656

You were rushing home, stumbling out of your relative’s house, guilty that you lost track of time from babysitting your cousins for the fourth time this week. It was tiring, but what else could you do. Your aunt was always working hard, plus the least you could do was to lend her a helping hand.

Tonight was supposed to be the night when it was your turn to cook dinner to celebrate Taehyun’s upcoming album. You knew he was always working hard, sometimes even snacking on instant ramen noodles instead of eating a full meal.

The skies were gradually getting darker, street lamps illuminating the pavement in the shadows, the post winter weather creeping up on you, sending chills down your spine.

[You, 5:36 PM] Hey, my love, dinner’s going to be late I’m so sorry! I’ll be home soon.

You looked down at your phone, reading your text which you sent half an hour ago and noticing that he had read it, but still no reply. It wasn’t often that Taehyun would leave you on read, but you were just hoping he wasn’t upset for that matter, if anything it was rare he left you on read so it made your mind wander.

You noticed all the lights were off as soon as you reached the entrance to your home. Usually, you’d leave them on even if you weren’t there. Perhaps he’s not home yet. Your fingers were fumbling with the keys, the cold metal between your thumb and your index finger until you unlocked the door.

Immediately shutting the door from the cold gust of wind, you turned around to see a dim light flickering at the end of the hallway to the dining room. You followed a path of scattered rose petals, mixing colours of white and red, gradually walking closer to the light source.

Your eyes trailed from the last cluster of petals, scanning the table with a couple of candles in the centre and cooked dinner served on a plate, meeting with your boyfriend’s charming smile. His blond hair was fluffy, slightly parted in the middle as the faint light displayed his prominent facial features. His eyes were smiling also, you always adored the little crinkles by his eyes as he did so.

"Aw, Tyun, this is new.” You shyly giggled as you walked towards the vacant seat across him.

“There was a power outage and now we have to have a dinner by candlelight.” You paused in your steps as he stood up and walked around to pull your chair out for you.

“Chivalry really isn’t dead, huh? Thank you.” Taehyun lightly chuckled as you gave him a quick peck on his lips. Even under the dim light, you could see his cheeks and the tip of his ears turning a warm shade of pink.

“Also, I just wanted to say how proud I am of you. I know you’re busy with work and looking after your cousins, and yet you still worry about caring for me.” He returned to his seat, now sitting opposite you and the warm smile never leaving his face.

“Speaking of, I was supposed to cook for you this evening.” You playfully stuck out your bottom lip into a pout. Taehyun reached out his hand towards yours, caressing the back of your palm with his thumb in small circles.

“My love, take this as a gift of gratitude. I’m so grateful to have you with me, however hard it may be, always remember that.” You watched him in the shadows, loving as ever. What startled you was when he raised your hands closer to his lips before placing a soft kiss at your knuckles. Your cheeks were warming up, but that wasn’t the first.

Your eyes softened at his words, “I love you, you know that right?”

“I love you too.” He grins the widest grin that you grew to love, showing his teeth followed by a small laugh. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

#kang taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun fluff #taehyun drabble #taehyun scenarios #txt fluff #txt drabble #txt scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop drabble #kpop scenarios #txt soft hours #taehyun soft hours #anon #fluff promts #requested #kth 🐿

100 notes · View notes

deepperplexity · 3 years

Text

Titel: Help Your Hatred

A/N: So I felt like writing something a bit more "simple" and ended up with this. Not sure of the title but I kinda like it and hope you will enjoy the story! :D

Summary: You had been with Severus, secretly, for nearly a year when his darkness scared you away; as he played his part as a Death Eater with such intensity you caved to the fear that he felt for you what he stated during a secret meeting you overheard between him and the Malfoy's. That he loathed muggleborns with such fervour he wished to abolish their magical rights and to top it off he said, in that sombre voice of his, that they meant less than nothing to him personally. The ringing honesty, you could not even consider being false, was the sound that broke your heart.

Pairing: Snape x Muggleborn!Female!Reader

Setting: Diagon Alley, Rosa Lee Teabag shop -> Spinner's End

ABBR.: │ (y/n) - Your Name │ (y/n/n) - Your Nick Name │(h/c) - hair color │ (e/c) - eye color│

Word Count: 5086

Warnings: Harsh language, alcohol, kissing, rage

Masterlist page // Masterlist post

The scent of heaven wafted around you. All fragrances you could possibly imagine and then some. The shop you worked at, Rosa Lee Teabag, had been your workplace for no more than a few weeks. The worst few weeks of your life. The work was pleasant, your life was not. Your face smiled, your heart was shattered. As if the tea had spilt out of its containing bag and slowly spread away from where it belonged. Impossible to recover.

Your head pounded; a harsh and thundering reminder of the too many drinks you had consumed the evening before. But what else were you going to do? Sob and cry all night? No, no that was simply not happening. Some heavy drinking and then you were out cold with not so much as a little snivel.

You shook your head to clear the sticky fog. Your hands deftly tied ribbon after ribbon to tighten teabag after teabag of individual orders sent by owls. Vanilla, jasmine, cinnamon, green, red, black - tea after tea. How can people drink this stuff? You thought as you sneered at the hoard of bags on the little worktable. You were a coffee person; a coffee addict. Three cups were required to even get you to grumble 'good morning'.

No, don't think about coffee! Too late, your mind already raced to Severus and the lovely mornings you had spent together sipping pitch-black coffee in complete silence until you both had made it past the first three cups each.

His onyx eyes penetrated your mind, that wicked smile, the black hair and the godlike hands that knew exactly where to - no, no, stop, stop, stop! You sighed deeply as your hands fisted and your shoulders tensed.

No matter what you did, where you were, who you were with - he was always there. You could never escape him. Not in your waking hours nor your dreaming ones. The only time you found reprieve where when you reached the bottom of the bottle. When your mouth was numb, your fingers slippery and your brain in a complete daze of silence and darkness. There he was not. For alcohol had never been part of your relationship. You had never witnessed him touch the stuff nor had you drank anything in his presence. You had actually loved that about him.

"I loved many things about him," you muttered as you snatched up a new little bag of silk to stuff with some green tea reeking of citrus so strong it stung in your nose. You tied the little purple sash and plopped the bag in its designated box. "Too many things," you mumbled as you grabbed a new bag to repeat the process. The box would require twelve reeking bags and Merlin knew how you'd have to damn near scrub off your skin to get rid of the horrid smell.

"No dawdling," Mrs Grant chipped as she poked her head through the thick curtains that shielded your little workstation from the rest of the store. You schooled your face into a pleasantly smiling one as you looked towards the head of Mrs Grant. Her grey hair tightly curled and the glasses on the tip of her nose. "No Mrs Grant, no dawdling," you smiled as you cinched yet another sash and she gave you an approving nod as you placed the bag in its box that now was full.

After 28 boxes, 12 bags in each, you staked the orders to be sent out for delivery in the early morning hours of the coming day. You reeked, absolutely stank, with varying smells of citrus fruits and flowers. The combination was awful, to say the least. You couldn't wait to get home and soak in a hot bath for hours with no other company than a bottle or two of wine.

Your hair was wrapped in a towel as you strutted through the tiny attic apartment in slippers and a thick robe. The bath had eradicated the smell of tea and you felt more like yourself again. Had it not been for you being in hiding, yes you were hiding from the love of your life, you might have risked heading off to get a drink out with other people. But the wine bottle in your hand would have to do.

It had been a snap decision to go away when you had heard your beloved Severus utter such clear words of hatred towards people like yourself. Muggleborns. How he had slandered your rights to use magic; despite the fact he knew you had been a street kid until an owl with a Hogwarts letter had found you. That had changed your life, saved your life most likely. Yet he had crushed, shattered and broken you; your heart left in ruins.

You slumped in the little armchair covered in worn fabric. As you glanced around the little attic space - just one room with a kitchenette and a tiny little bathroom - you felt more lonely than ever. The space was cold and worn, it looked tired and unloved despite your best efforts to make it more than a miserable attic.

The landlord, who was also your boss, had been kind enough to let you stay for nearly no rent provided you worked the hours she didn't want to shoulder. That meant split shifts. Early mornings and late afternoons. It wasn't ideal. But it was work and a roof over your head. You had nothing else as you had lived with Severus the past five months; in secret, of course, as none could know of your relationship. It was too dangerous as Severus had pointed out time and time again.

You drank directly from the bottle as the conversation you had had with Mrs Grant several weeks ago replayed in your mind. How you had begged her for work, begged her to not tell anyone of you and lastly begged her to help you find somewhere to live. You had stooped so low that you played the puppy eyes and turned on the tears as you told her about an abusive partner that you were hiding from. It had been a lie, of course. Severus had done nothing but love you tenderly. Until that day you overheard him that is.

You shuddered, what else have you said about people like me? What else do you truly feel for magicians such as myself? Were you just playing me? Stringing me along? The thoughts were dark and harsh. You didn't want to believe it but you had heard it with your own ears. And the pain, the pain was just too much. The doubt heavy and the fear of having been duped once more by someone you thought loved you was just too much to handle.

You tipped the bottle and drank. Tried to shut out the thoughts and memories. Did your best to persuade the tears not to fall. But this evening, it seemed impossible. The alcohol helped but did not numb you enough. In the tiny fireplace, a small fire crackled and the wind seemed to penetrate all walls as it chilled you to the bone. Or perhaps, that was just sorrow. You couldn't quite tell at that point.

You cinched another sash. Outside the morning had barely begun and light had just started touching the rooftops of Diagon Alley. But you had been working for two hours already. Running on just 4 hours of sleep and no food. Food made your stomach turn and you couldn't handle eating until the morning had passed.

Severus had always cooked such wonderful meals, even breakfast was a delight every morning. Pancakes, waffles, massive sandwiches, fruits and all kinds of goodies. You missed waking up to that smell, the smell of his love as he made you food each and every morning. Before him, your breakfast had been coffee and nothing else. Now, it was just that again.

Box after box you filled with teabags to be sent out for lunch deliveries. Mrs Grant opened the shop at 09.45 am sharp, and people filed in with requests of specific teas or personalized blends. You could hear them in your little backroom where your workstation was situated. Merely hid by a thick drape covering the entrance.

The bell dinged as the door opened and closed. over and over again it dinged as people came and went. You just packed teabag after teabag, box after box. It was nearly automatic now. The work wasn't hard, but so damn repetitive that it barely kept your mind from wandering.

You sighed as you wrote the address of the recipient of the box you just finished. as the bell dinged yet again and Mrs Grant greeted the customer with her usual question of how she could help the person. But the voice that rang out after hers went quiet made you stiffen. Your heart pounded and your hands instantly shook as Severus drawled out a request for a simple tea with a subtle flavour.

You stood frozen in place as you listened to the conversation on the other side of the drape. "Certainly, Mr-?" "Snape," his voice murmured. He sounded, different. Colder, harsher. "Certainly, Mr Snape. May I suggest a simple yet impactful Earl Grey?" Mrs Grant crooned with that shop-owner-voice. No sound came from Severus so he most likely just nodded. You were still frozen in place, the only thing that seemed to move was your pounding heart and vibrating hands.

Mrs Grant talked about varying teas, nearly lectured Severus on how to dip it properly and how to make the specific tea she offered him reach its full potential. But you barely heard any of it as you tried your best to not break down and cry. He was so close yet so far away. You wanted to run to him, run from him. War broke out within you as you wobbled on your feet. Swaying from side to side as both love and fear battled to win your favour.

"Will that be all?" Mrs Grant asked. "That is all," Severus said quietly. Mrs Grant most likely nodded as she began tapping the old registry. The clicking sound hit you like harsh blows, over and over. As if a countdown was ticking. Mrs Grant asked for the money, clinking noises came after, a rustle of a paper bag and then she thanked him and wished him a good day. Harsh steps echoed away.

"Actually, I do have a question, if you do not mind?" Severus's voice rang out, more clear this time than before. "By all means, Mrs Snape, go ahead." "Have you perhaps seen a woman, (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes, soft-looking yet fierce in her presence?" Your heart pounded as Severus described you to Mrs Grant. You sent out a silent prayer that she would not reveal you to him. At the same time, tears lined your cheeks in the hopes to be enveloped in his arms yet again.

"Hmm," a moment passed as Mrs Grant seemed to ponder his question, "no, I do not believe I have. We have so many customers it's a little hard to keep track of them all though," she said and you could hear that fake smile in her voice that she gave most customers. "Pity," Severus murmured and his voice vibrated through you despite the distant, the drape, the low tone of it. It reached you like the light of the moon harshly penetrated the darkest of nights with its white light.

Your knees buckled as the doorbell clinked harshly. You sank to the floor, a whimpering heap. Sobs escaped your mouth as your heart tried frantically to leap out of your chest and your lungs desperately fought to fill with air that didn't quite give enough oxygen. The world spun around you while all the memories that you had battled away came rushing in like a tidal wave set on destruction.

"Oh dear, whatever is the matter?" Mrs Grant hurled away the drape as she most likely could not avoid hearing your crying. "I'm- I'm so sorry Mrs Grant, no d-dawdling," you cried as you tried to find the strength to stand. "Oh hush, what is the matter? You're a sorry mess," she said with that cold yet sweet voice of hers as she stepped closer. You merely shook your head, unsure of how to word it. If she found out it was Severus she had been running from she would think he was abusive to her when that had been a lie to get a chance at true hiding.

"Just, give me, a moment," you sobbed as you tried to take deep breaths, "I'll be all right," you continued but Mrs Grant would hear it. "Oh no, you go on home and sort yourself out Ms Collin," she said as that was the fake name you had given the woman, "and then you come work when you are not such a mess. We can't have you here like this. The customers might hear," she continued and those words were so harsh.

She did not in fact care about you. No, she cared about the shop and her reputation and a crying worker was not to be had within its walls. It sent the wrong signals and you understood that, still, the words felt coldly harsh and without sympathy for you as a person. But you nodded as you stood on shaky legs.

With your cloak tightly wrapped around you and the hod pulled up to hide your face you hurried out the store. The house was only two buildings over. You climbed that rickety staircase and unlocked your door as swiftly as your unsteady hands allowed. Tears streamed down your face and you could barely catch your breath. The only thing on our mind was Severus.

The door finally creaked open and you pushed it as rushed steps could be heard beneath. "(Y/N)!" Severus's voice rang out and your body froze mid-step. "(Y/N)! Wait!" He called yet again as you heard him run, the stairs swayed as he ran up them. Just as he was about to reach you your body jerked to life and you flung yourself inside while slamming the door shut so harshly the walls rattled.

His fists pounded the door as you had barely had time to lock it. "(Y/N), please, open," he called as his fist banged once, twice. You cried where you had fallen to the floor. "Go away!" you managed to choke out. "Open this door!" he growled and the handle rattled. "Go away!" you shouted once more, stronger this time, despite the tears and sobs. The involuntary shaking of your entire being.

"Damn it all," he growled and in the next moment, your door was shattered in splinters. The cold wind swarmed in as you crawled backwards. Away from the door and the imposing man that towered over you fully clad in black from head to toe. His face looked strained, his eyes hollowed out and he seemed thinner. He seemed broken.

"Go away," you whimpered as the mere sight of him - broken or not - made your body ache for his embrace and touch. Your heart strained with the hurt he had inflicted as the love he had given reminded you of just how deeply you loved the grim man squeezing through the entrance of your little attic home.

"Never," he growled as he stepped towards you, "never, (y/n)," he said again and to hear your name in that tone of voice, his voice, made you shiver. His hauntingly dark vocalization brimming with depth like the deepest of seas and your words were the curse of darkness that rested in its most remote pits. It hurt, so fiercely. That our name no longer teemed with softness and light in his voice. No longer was your name the reprieve of glowing heat and stardust it had once been when he spoke it so softly.

He stepped towards you, "You left me." His voice was no more than a growl. You blinked in an effort to get rid of the tears. "You left, without a word. Nothing," he hissed and took the last step that placed him right by your bent legs as you shrunk beneath his deadly glare. His eyes endlessly dark galaxies of starless holes. Such pain, such sorrow and horror, rested in that darkness. You looked away, could not bear to watch the man who seemed nothing like the man you loved.

You said nothing. You had no words for him at that moment. Too afraid of what might have slipped out should you have tried to voice anything at all. He tsked as he looked down on you. You could feel the anger that radiated off him in pulsing waves that pressed you further to the floor. Never had you been afraid of him before. Never had you felt crushed or dominated by him in such a way. Something about him was different and you hated it.

Your body locked up, you were unable to control your limbs as fear pulsed through you. Your head bent backwards so that your eyes met his. Severus held his wand pointed at you and panic crept through your body as he had control of it. As he had robbed you of your own physical being. Imprisoned you with no way to run.

"You have no idea what I have been through," his voice thundered out. Your eyes were locked in his as you fought the control he had over you. "No idea what I have felt or thought," he continued as he elevated you up off the cold floor, "you left me without a word. Left without an explanation." Thos endlessly dark galaxies shined with tears that he would not allow to slither free.

He stood you up with the will of his wand, "stand," he said as he broke the spell. You wobbled and grabbed the armchair's back to steady yourself as freedom came back to you. You breathed heavily now that your chest could expand more freely. You scowled at him as the tears finally stopped, anger taking the sorrows place. You straightened and forced your body to stop shaking.

"I loved you," you said as steadily as you could. His eyes widened as he seemed to stiffen. "But it was all a lie. You, you left me long before I left you," you continued as you seemed to find your courage. You released the chair as something cold slithered into your heart and made a nest of ice. "You, Severus," you continued as your stiff legs carried you towards him, "are filled with hatred and I have no intention to be with a man like you." Your mouth thinned as he took a step back while you stepped towards him.

He seemed to be speechless as your eyes slowly glazed over with a thin veil; it kept him away from your mind and kept your love well-hidden as the slithering cold stretched its claws out lazily to grab a hold of the entirety of your heart. "I can't help your hatred, but I can choose not to be a part of it." The words were free of emotions as you seemed to leave in some way. As if the very essence that was you, your warm and happy self, were encased by that clawed ice. Because of him. Because of how badly he had broken you with mere words he most likely never thought you would hear.

"(Y/N)," he breathed out, "what are you-" "I loathe muggleborns," you said, "I want to abolish their magical rights as they are not pure," you continued. He seemed to stiffen as his words were repeated by your cold voice. "They mean less than nothing to me personally..." His words, harshly uttered by you, rendered him pale and stiff.

Something snapped in you as his silence stretched on. That's what I thought, Severus. That's what I thought, your mind whispered in despair as he made no effort to explain or sway you with new words. You both stared at each other. Your eyes glazed and hidden as ice expanded in your heart, his eyes darkly empty as if death had stolen the very life that was his essence.

Time stretched on. Steadily ticking away as you grew ever colder both inside and outside as the wind caressed your skin coldly. The cloak laid in a heap on the floor as it had fallen off when Severus had blasted through the door earlier. You shivered and shook but you did not break the eye contact you had with him.

Something shifted in him. His shoulders dropped a bit and he exhaled what seemed to be an extremely deep breath. "You mean to tell me," he murmured in a drawl, "that I have died over and over in fear of who might have held you captive, who might have kidnapped you, what horrors you were being subjugated to in order to get at me. You mean to tell me, I have been going out of my mind these past weeks only for you to have left me for words I have given no truth?" His voice was darkly humoristic. As if he was indeed going mad.

"I heard you, everything Severus," you said flatly. "I know you did, do you not think I knew you always listened to my meetings? Did you not stop for a miserable second to consider what I am? What role I play?" His voice rose steadily as something seemed to come back to life in him. Your heart throbbed a bit harder. For yes, you had considered it all but the truth that had rung so clearly in his voice as he had uttered those words were unbearable for you.

Severus moved so fast you had no time to react. You were in his embrace for you could take half a breath as he snared you with his arms and held you tightly. Your head pressed against his chest, his pounding heart loudly hammering right below your ear. "You idiot," he murmured and then you heard it. His sobs. He was crying, for the first time ever you heard him cry.

You screamed at yourself to push him away but your arms merely clawed at the clothes covering his back as you tried to get as close as you possibly could. Tears streamed down your face as you sobbed with him. You both were a complete mess in each other's arms as you sunk to the floor. You only then realised how stupid you had been and nothing could stop the harsh words you screamed at yourself.

"(y/n/n), come home with me," he whispered with a gravelly voice nearly choked with tears. You simply nodded as you were unable to speak through your crying. He kissed the top of your head and held you even tighter. "Never leave me again," he growled on a dark sob, "never do this again. I have died every day that I could not find you," he said with the pain he was obviously trying to hide from you. True pain, actual truth was the thing he, your beloved Severus, always seemed desperate to hide. How could I be so stupid? Truth is the one thing he always tries to hide from the world, you thought as your fingers began to cramp from their firm grasp of his clothes.

You stood frozen in place as you both entered Severus's house at Spinner's End. The house was destroyed. "What happened? Who did this?" you asked with a slight gasp as your eyes roamed the house. Severus said nothing as you ran through the hallway and scanned the living room. Everything was trashed, broken, shredded or tipped. books, broken glass, ripped wallpaper and smashed furniture. It was complete chaos.

You hurriedly ran to the kitchen only to find it in an even worse state. Everything was destroyed. The one things, the single thing that was whole and still in its place was your coffee cup, your favourite coffee cup that you always enjoyed your morning coffee from. You reached out for it and cradled it softly in your hands. You understood at that moment that Severus himself had done this. Had wrecked the home you two had shared for five months.

"I will restore it," he said sheepishly as he leaned against the door jamb three steps away from you. You turned to him with tears in your eyes. "Oh, Sev," you whispered before you walked right into his embrace. "I lost control," he said as his chest vibrated with his words, "I was afraid and hurt, angry even," he said as you hugged him tighter. You had felt it all too, in a different way.

"Please, (y/n/n), please do not put me through that ever again." You nodded your confirmation and he seemed to exhale another one of those deep breaths. "If you promise me something," you whispered as you looked up at him. He arched a brow but nodded. "I understand what you are and who you are, what you need to do and say to keep playing your role. But," you swallowed as the words got stuck in your throat.

He tilted your head ever so slightly with his hand under your chin. Coaxed you to go on. "I need you to be honest with me. Just me, I don't care what you tell others, but I need truth from you." "I am honest with you," he said in a soft drawl. "In some ways yes, in others no. I believed those words of hatred since you gave me no reason to not believe them. You have never said anything about my blood or-" He hushed you with a deep kiss that heated you to your very core.

It melted away the icy claws and banished the slithering cold from the nest it had earlier created in your heart. You deepened the kiss as he hummed against your lips. A moment later he straightened and the contact was broken. "I was of the impression that you knew, despite my lack of words." You gave a tight smile at the man you loved more than anything in the world as he spoke. "Words, are needed sometimes, Severus," you whispered as a life of insecurities bubbled just below the surface.

His eyes searched yours, softly caressing away that veil with mere looks as the stars once more shone in his eyes. "A truth," he whispered, "is that I love you. Ardently, earnestly, fervently, deeply." He weighed each word to emphasise them as your knees buckled and he held you up with those strong arms. "And I love you, with every part of my very soul," you breathed as a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips. He gave you another kiss and this time he did not end it until you both were desperate for air.

Extra scene; Severus POV

I had looked everywhere. She was gone. No note. Nothing missing of her belongings. She was just gone. As if she had vanished. Fear crawled through me as I could barely utter her name anymore from how hoarse I was after having screamed her name the past hour. The house was I disarray as I had moved things, searched through things - for her or a note or anything at all that would tell me of her whereabouts. Yet, it yielded no information or inclination as to where she was. My beloved, my (y/n).

Days passed, turned into weeks. Every spare moment I had I searched for her. Between work, the Order and DE meetings paired with spying and information gathering there was little time to eat or sleep. I ended up forsaking my basic needs just to search for her. Any rumour, any clue, anything at all. But there had been nothing. No sound of her whereabouts or state.

My patience finally snapped as I trashed the entire house in fury. The anger radiated through me as if I were little more than just that. Anger. No matter the reason for her disappearance I could not bear it any longer. I was going insane, mad, had lost my mind.

The danger of it did not escape me. My role in the world, my duties and the importance of my capacity to play the part on both sides; in the dark and in the light. I barely could and people were starting to notice. The wrong people. I was breaking. Never had I imagined that one little person such as her could cause such pain and agony, pose such a risk to not only my life but to the outcome of the upcoming war.

I had been a fool for allowing love in my life. A fool for such a natural need. Life had never given me any reason to believe I could hold such things as love, joy or hope. She had come with it all and now she had taken it with her and left me more hollow than ever before. I can not go on for much longer without her by my side, I know that...

Hatred had filled me up. Hatred for life, for all things in it. Hatred for the hope, the love, the joy and the sweet scent of her skin. Hatred, pure and white. It filled me, consumed me and begged me for release. As I had granted that day I trashed my entire home, everything I had and owned was destroyed. Everything I was; destroyed. Broken.

As I entered the kitchen to find something to soothe my aching body with I just stared at the complete mess. Broken glass and porcelain, smashed kitchen chairs and unhooked cabinets. Spices and broken shelves littered the floor. The only thing my rage had not consumed was her cup. The one cup she always took her morning coffee in.

"Coffee," I mumbled, "no, bad idea. Too much caffeine. Tea, some simple and mild tea," I muttered as I stepped around the mess only to find I had no tea left. We, (y/n) and I, had only drunk coffee lately and I had not bothered to restock on tea. Stupid, foolish, no tea in the house. Disgrace, I thought to myself with a sneer and a sigh as I headed towards the hallway to grab my cloak.

Hi dearies! :D I hope you enjoyed this rather simple fic, I had fun writing it ^^ The first time adding Severus POV as an extra scene; what do you think of that? ^^

Taglist: @lizlil

Masterlist page // Masterlist post

#snape fic #severus snape #professor snape #snape love #snape fanfiction #fanfiction #sev #severus #alan rickman #my writing #deepperplexity #deepperplexity fic #help your hatred #snape x reader #x reader #x reader fic #pro snape #snapelove

130 notes · View notes