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eriquin · 3 months

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Cat's in the Cradle, part 7

Eddie demonstrates his skill at breaking and entering.

(master post)

There was a good spot around the side of the house, invisible to the street but just close enough to be able to hear cars and people approaching. Eddie made it there and crouched down, watching as Wayne drove off. He waited for a few minutes, but there were no cars on the road in this part of town. He couldn’t hear any people around, either.

He had planned to wait in this spot until something happened, but grew bored quickly and changed his mind. Now was a great time to test out his hypothetical methods of entry and investigate Dustin’s house. He tried the bedroom window first, dragging a lawn chair over so he could climb onto the woodshed, but the window was shut and locked, and all his tools were in his backpack, which he’d left in the back of the truck. Cursing his forgetfulness, he gave up and went over to the kitchen. That one was unlocked and slid up, leaving just enough space to squeeze through. He had to go slowly to not crash against the plates in the sink below.

Dustin’s house was cozy, with a couple of knit blankets strewn around the living room and carpet everywhere. Eddie startled slightly when a blanket moved, but it was just a little cat. She was annoyed that he’d interrupted her nap, and got up to follow him as he explored the house. She made some charming little chirping noises along the way.

He found Dustin’s radio setup, and thought about trying to contact the rest of the team, but decided that it would be better to tell someone in person first. His pubescent voice wasn’t going to convince anyone that he was real. He sat down at the desk and poked through Dustin’s other things. The little cat jumped into his lap and started making biscuits in his sweatpants.

“Hey, ow,” he said, scooping her up so she couldn’t continue to claw his thighs. “Not nice.” He dropped her on the floor, but she was back in lap in a second. He dropped her on the floor again and got up.

The cat followed him as he checked the rest of the rooms, continuing with her little high pitched vocalizations. She even followed him into the bathroom, watching as he peed. It was a small miracle that she waited until he was washing his hands before rubbing up against his legs.

“You’re just lonely, huh?” Eddie asked. He crouched down to pet her and check her collar. “Tews, huh?”

The cat put her paws up on his knees and gave a long, plaintive meow. She headbutted his hand and meowed again. He lowered his head towards her, and she headbutted his chin. She let him scoop her up, propping her front paws on his shoulder. He stood up and held his hand under her back legs.

“None of the cats in the trailer park ever let me pick them up,” he said. She rubbed her face against his chin. “You’re pretty great, Tews Henderson.”

Tews let him carry her around as he finished his tour of the house. Once he was back in the kitchen, she climbed onto his shoulders and jumped onto the counter. He saw her sniff at the open window so he quickly shut it, not wanting to be responsible for her escaping. She meowed again and hopped down, trotting over to a plastic tray on the ground. It had two empty dishes on it.

“Oh I see. You’re not lonely. You’re hungry.” He leaned over and petted her. She bounced up to meet his hand and trilled loudly. “You only love me for my opposable thumbs and ability to use tools. I see how it is.”

He hunted through the cabinets until he found some cans of cat food. There was a stack of cat-shaped ceramic dishes next to them, so he dumped the Friskies into one and traded it out for the one on the floor. He added the dirty dish to the pile in the sink and refilled the plastic bowl with water. Tews was scarfing down her food like she’d never been fed before in her entire life. It reminded Eddie that he had skipped lunch and only eaten some chips since breakfast. He started hunting through the cabinets for something for himself.

He made a tuna sandwich and was eating it over the sink, sharing pieces with a still-hungry Tews, when he heard a car door slam outside the house. He grabbed a paper towel to wrap around the second half of his sandwich and hide in Dustin’s bedroom. Tews followed him, chirping the whole way. He shushed her and shut her out of the room just as the front door opened.

“Dusty? Are you home?” Dustin’s mom called out. Eddie finished the rest of his sandwich as quickly as possible, wishing that he’d gotten a glass of water to wash it down. He quietly ducked into Dustin’s closet and pulled the door shut behind him, hoping that Dustin’s mom wouldn’t look in the room or let Tews in. That cat was sure to sniff him out, like a traitor.

He heard Tews chirping and scampering down the hall and Dustin’s mom rustling around in the house. The door to Dustin’s room opened briefly and Eddie froze.

“Dusty? Nope. Tews, calm down honey.” He heard Dustin’s mom shuffle back and shut the door again. Tews kept meowing at her, and they went off to the other end of the house. He let out the breath he was holding, and very slowly snuck out of the closet. He kept on his tiptoes as he made his way across the room, climbed on the solid parts of Dustin’s bed, and unlocked the window. It slid open noiselessly, and he let himself out onto the roof of the woodshed. As he pulled the window most of the way closed, he decided to wait just off to the side and listen for Dustin to get home. He pulled his bandana back over his mouth and settled in to wait.

#cat's in the cradle #my writing #stranger things #shapeshifter eddie #de-aged eddie

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spinaroos-47 · 3 years

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Made from the same wood - Oneshot

Summary: turns out being made of palistrom wood has its perks

Post canon, Hunter is now living in the owl house and it's after getting into okay terms with Amity, him being a grimwalker and being made of palistrom wood makes him able to understand other palismen

It’s not something I 100% have as a headcanon or expect to happen, I just think this concept is neat! I got inspired by other fanfics delving into Hunter being a grimwalker changing some things on him. Also I’m testing out a placeholder name for Lil Rascal

---

That small cat was starting to get on his nerves.

Always asking for food when she was on the first floor of the owl house, smacking his face with her little white paws demanding cuddles always when he was wearing his black shirt, filling it with fur, going way too far when playing with Pascal, he always had to get them away from her before her claws did any damage.

And today, she was on his lap making biscuits on his knee, his hands tensing up at every claw almost piercing his skin, using all his might to not scream at her. No matter what, do not scream at her . She wasn't doing it out of malice, she's just a cat palisman. It still hurt like stinging sand but he held out every yelp.

But his limit was inching really close.

He closed his eyes, hands balled up into fists resting on the table, and took a deep breath.

"Can you stop??" Even so, his voice came out harsher than he intended, looking down at the palisman, who flinched and stared at him with her icy blue eyes, paws now stopping the kneading. "You need to tell Amity to cut your nails again, you’re kneading my leg raw!"

She scrunched up her nose, answering him with a rude meow.

"Don't call me that!"

"Mrow!"

"You're the one who did that!"

"MAOW!!"

"Oh you little-"

"...What are you doing?"

Looking up, Hunter found both Luz and Amity staring at him from the other side of the table, with puzzled faces. He looked away for a second, passing his hand through his hair, accidentally waking up Pascal and making them get out of their little hiding spot there.

"I'm sorry, I...I should have asked her to stop before, I-"

"... I'm not talking about that - though you better not repeat this - just… what are you doing?"

"Uh...doing what?"

"You were talking to my cat like you understood her."

"I do understand her, what’s so weird about it?"

The two furrowed their brows even more, looking at eachother for a moment.

"You understand??" Luz pointed at him with the spoon she was holding. "She's not even your palisman!"

Oh.

Slowly the gears turned into place in his brain

"...I guess other witches can't really… do that, right?"

"We don't. Is that another one of the Grimwalker things?" Amity tapped her fingers on the table, calling her cat, Ghost going from his lap to hers.

"Eh, maybe? I'm still trying to find more about it"

He looked down at the page of the book he was taking notes about, before being rudely distracted by Ghost. It was hard to find anything about what he was, it's not like it was something really talked about like other magical creations. Kinda hard to bring up a lot about how you artificially create a witch to be used for not really great things without getting some weird looks.

"There's palistrom wood in the middle of the ingredients, maybe it does have something to do with that." He continued, fidgeting with his loose hair strand.

“So you’re like, a witch palisman?”

“...Not exactly like that, Luz. But I suppose palistrom wood has anything created from it able to communicate with other palismen and things like that.”

“Kinda ironic, don’t you think?”

His ears burned while he stared at the book, feeling Pascal perch on his shoulder, avoiding looking at the human.

“You’re never going to let the Latissa thing go, are you?”

“Nope”

"... That's fair."

"And why did you, you know, never question this before?"

"It's not like I got to interact with palismen a lot before Pascal showed up. And then after that, i just didn't think much about it, i thought everyone kinda understood them." He pet the cardinal’s head, smiling softly at them. "They're pretty chatty actually..."

"Must be nice to understand them."

"Eh, it's questionable."

A quiet meow came from under the table after Hunter said that, making him chuckle.

"Aaaand there's my proof"

"A palisman whisperer" Luz snorted "you can add that to your titles now"

"I'll think about that"

The three went back to the silence that was there before, returning to what they were doing. The book talked a little about the ingredients to create a Grimwalker, similar to the one Belos had on his personal library, that he never could get a good look on, but there wasn't much more than that on it.

Thinking about this still made his head spin, it was really advanced magic and did not really have much about anything after creating a being like him, besides some few annotations about checking through how far in development it was. Great. Just absolutely great.

He just wanted to know if there’s anything he should know about himself. He wasn’t made like other witches, he was made from wild magic, it must have done something else different on him besides understanding palismen and being useful on the Day of Unity, something, anything, that could happen in the future. He needed to know.

And the research kept on going nowhere and repeating everything he already knew.

"Do you think the other ingredients also affect you?"

“Huh?” Hunter raised his eyes from the book, head supported by his hand.

“Like this thing with palismen happening because you’re made of wood, could the other ingredients do something like that?”

“Probably, but I’m not sure about what is or isn’t caused by all this” He wiggled his fingers towards the illustration on the book. “There’s barely anything here that isn’t what I already know.”

“We could try finding other books about it if you want”

“Thanks, Luz” he sighed, closing the notebook. “But I’m getting tired of running into dead ends.”

“You don’t need to g-”

“It’s okay. I’m fed up with it and...maybe it’s good to know where to stop. And I’m stopping here.”

“...Okay then. I won’t push you.”

He got up from the chair and got to the other side of the table, looking at the recipe list.

“Is this another recipe from the human realm?”

“Yeah! It’s chocolate cake! Want to help?”

He smiled, rolling up his sleeves.

“I do.”

#the owl house #toh #hunter toh #golden guard #luz noceda #amity blight #lil rascal #grimwalker #writing #alec writes #alec talks

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hello-everyfandom · 4 years

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"For a moment, listen silently, what does your heart say?”

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Words: 4k

Summary: Suffering lovers and hearts to be mended and stitched back together

Part One “I love you more than the sky and the ground but I can’t do this anymore.”

Part Two “No, it’s over. She ended it.”

(This one is quite long! How hopes and dreams turn into the most painful writing one could ever print. Please, I wish for my own heart to mend as Sirius’ will.)

The next few weeks were nothing but tragic. Lily could barely get you out of your bed nevertheless to class. It seemed that the fight, the breakup, the hurting wore down your stamina until you were not able to stand. It was worse after the party. Before, you could numb the pain of losing Sirius by distracting yourself with rewriting notes and organizing your room. But after the party, after seeing the love of your life lip-locked with another girl, kissing her the way he should kiss you, something in you broke.

Lily sat gently on your bed, placing the cup of warm tea on your table. She whispered kindly, “We have class in an hour, you missed breakfast but I brought you a cuppa.” She moved the duvet that covered your face to see your innocent watering eyes looking up at her. She sighed and smoothed out your hair, feeling the shutters of cries leave your lips. “You need to go to class, Y/N. I can’t keep telling McGonagall you’re sick without her sending you to St. Mungos.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Think about it this way,” Lily continued to run her fingers through your hair. She was thankful she had been able to get you to take a warm shower yesterday and change your pajamas, “If you go, you get it done and over with. Then you can come back and we can lay in your bed all afternoon.”

“I’m tired.”

“That’s why I brought you tea. Come on, love, it’s really time to get up.” Lily said gently, pushing the duvet so it was only covering your torso. Instead of sitting up, you blinked back tears before sputtering out.

“I made a mistake, didn’t I?” you covered your mouth, clutching your eyes shut to let out a cry. “I made a mistake breaking up with him. I’m an idiot. I’m a fool.”

“No, no,” Lily cooed, moving your hand from your mouth and petting your cheek, “No, you didn’t. You did what you thought was right at the time.”

“Then why does it hurt so bad?”

Lily didn’t have the answer, she could only reply with the utmost sympathy, “because you still love him.”

“Get up, you sad sack of shit. We’ve got charms in twenty minutes.” James flung the covers off of Sirius. His nose wrinkled at the sight of crumpled tissues that littered his bed. “That’s disgusting. Those tissues better not be from what I think it’s from.”

“You’re a right prick,” Sirius tried to smile, his lips cracked and chapped.

“You’re not staying in bed anymore, and frankly you smell like shit.”

“It’s true,” Remus chimed in, straightening his tie and his hair.

“So what? Leave me here. I don’t want to go anyways.”

“Right. Listen, Pads, we’ve been kind to you for a while now, but now, and I say this as sweetly and as loving as I can, we’re getting quite sick of your sulking.” James rolled his eyes.

“Oh wow, thanks,” Sirius said sarcastically, buttoning his shirt up. “You really know how to rip the plaster off, yeah?”

“Maybe if we obliviate you, you’ll become yourself once more,” Remus said wittily.

“I’ll permit it if it allows my memory to forget kissing that girl at the party.” Sirius nearly threw up at the memory of that girl’s lips on his.

James shrugged, throwing a tie at Sirius, “Well, we mean it with love and we know the break up has been hard but-”

“But?”

“But we miss our friend.” Peter finished. Remus nodded in agreement.

“It’s not easy, is all,” Sirius mumbled after brushing his teeth.

James slapped his hand on his shoulder and said confidently, “No, it’s not. But that’s why we’ll all go through it together, as brothers.” and swiftly lead him out of the dorm room.

As Lily locked her arms in yours and the two of you walked from the Great Hall to class, you were distracted by the open windows of the corridors. The courtyard, which had just been littered with brown, orange, and red leaves, set a moment of comfort in your bones. You always enjoyed autumn, mostly because it was in fall when Sirius had first told you he loved you. You shook that memory out of your mind and looked at the hallway instead. Coincidentally, much to both Sirius and your demise, the marauders and Lily had accidentally crossed paths with each other on the way to class. Eyes like magnets were drawn close together as Sirius looked at you with storming emotions. He looked as if he hadn’t slept, and if he did manage to close his eyes, nightmares in the forms of memories followed him. To be fair, you didn’t look all that right either. Though you didn’t have as prominent bags under your eyes, underneath your loose clothing was skin and bone. Your appetite had lost you and eating became difficult as most of the time you felt sick to even think about food. Sirius looked at you, lost and longing, and you stared with the same intensity, wishing to be in his arms, to sleep for years and kiss until the sun explodes.

“Ms. Y/L/N, will you please stay after class?” McGonagall’s voice rang out in her sharp tone. You froze and looked at Lily worriedly who shrugged.

“You’ll be fine, don’t worry. Meet me in the common room after,” Lily whispered, squeezing your arm before leaving the classroom. It was loud and full of chatter from the students who excitedly were headed to dinner. You waited, pushing hair behind your ears nervously as the students collected their things and filed out of the room. Then, it was silent. You approached McGonagall’s office in the back of her classroom slowly, dreading whatever scolding she would give you. As you pushed open the door, you thought in your head quickly, you had handed in the homework, taken notes in class, raised your hand when asked a question, you couldn’t place anything you did particularly wrong and yet your palms began to sweat.

“Yes, Professor?” you asked with a small voice. McGonagall looked up from her desk and peered at you from her glasses. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Do you think you have done something wrong?”

“I don’t reckon so, but I’m open to hearing any criticism if need be.” you focused on keeping your voice steady.

“Although, I’m sure you know the answer already, do you know what my particular job is here at Hogwarts?”

You bit your lip, “You’re a professor, perhaps one of the best ones here, of my favorites as well.”

“While I enjoy your compliment,” McGonagall sighed, “I am also the head of the Gryffindor house.”

“Yes, of course.” you nodded.

“And, with such a job comes the responsibility of looking after my students as if they were my own.”

“I’m not sure I understand, Professor.”

“Sit, please, Ms. Y/L/N.” McGonagall motioned to the seat in front of her desk, a nice plush armchair with maroon velvet. “Despite the belief of my students, I do care, and I notice especially when a particular student seems out of place.”

You sat on the edge of the seat and played with the threads of your sweater. “If it is my work that is not up to standard, I am sure I can revise or revisit whatever it is that has gotten low marks.”

“Your school work is hardly of the matter here,” Professor looked at the small girl in front of her. Once fiery and loud turned into a pebble on the floor. She admired and quite enjoyed having you as a student and took great pride in knowing you wore the Gryffindor sigil on your robes. But, like your friends, she had noticed an extreme change in demeanor in the past few weeks. “Are you doing alright, Y/N?” she asked kindly.

You looked up in surprise, “Yes, Professor. Though I will say, I will be disappointed if any of my homework or essays have been less than acceptable. I seem to be going through a little bit of a rough patch, I suppose.”

“I noticed,” you froze as McGonagall spoke, “Does this have anything to do with Mr. Black?”

“I-” you couldn’t think of an excuse. McGonagall put her hand up to stop your from speaking,

“Please, I may be older and I may be a teacher, but the students here seem to forget the Professors hear everything.”

You began to beg, “Professor, please, I promise whatever had happened will not affect my school nor my studies-”

She cut you off, “Have a biscuit, Y/L/N.” she motioned to the biscuit tin in front of her desk. When you showed signs of being wary, she opened the top of the tin and pushed it closer to you. Your hands shook as you took one and began to nibble on the edges.

“I do not speak of this, and I trust whatever I tell you and whatever you tell me stays in this office,” she started, you nodded furiously and she continued, “when I was younger, much much younger, perhaps about your age, I too fell in love.”

Your mouth fell agape.

“Dougal McGregor. I met him after my years at Hogwarts before I began my position at the ministry. It was, as most would say, a teenage love affair. We were much like you and Mr. Black. We argued senselessly, but we nevertheless loved each other. When he proposed, I was delighted. I accepted immediately.” your eyebrows rose to ask questions, however, McGonagall merely pushed the biscuit tin towards you again. You complied and took another.

“However, at the time, marriage between a muggle and a witch was proven more difficult than current times. Spouses of magical descent were forbidden to tell anyone of their skills in the wizarding world, and it. Well. The idea of living in a world without magic was unbearable. I had to make a decision.”

“What happened then, Professor?”

“I thought rejecting his proposal would be right for both of us, Dougal and I. I thought it was unfair to be kept in a magic-less marriage whilst Dougal would, in turn, be lied to every day. I made a decision and as a result,” her voice became low, almost sensitive, “I broke his heart and mine as well.”

“Oh Professor, I’m so sorry.”

“While it is in the past, I do think about him often. But, I suppose the feelings you are currently experiencing are what I felt when I left for the last time to London.”

“I see. Forgive me, Professor, why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to know the consequences of decision making. The difference between truly thinking with your head and with your heart.”

“Did you regret leaving?”

McGonagall pursed her lips in thought, the wrinkles shown prominently near her eyes, “Yes and no. I am overjoyed and proud to stand as the witch I am today. Becoming a professor and working with students, no matter how particularly unenjoyable some are, is a passion. However, it would be ignorant to say I did not frequently think about if I had stayed and married Dougal.”

“What happened to him?”

“I received a letter numerous months later, my mother had told me, Dougal married and was expecting his firstborn.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

“I find it humorous to sit here,” McGonagall gave you a wrinkled small smile.

“How so, Professor?”

“Because when I was heartbroken, the first person I told was my own teacher, you may know him now as Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Really?” you asked in surprise.

“Yes, we sat here at my desk whilst I told him of my heartache. And now, I sit here, with my own favorite student, discussing hers.”

“I’m not sure if I would call it heartache, Professor,”

“Then what would you call it?”

In class, Professor McGonagall was strict, sharp spoken. Instead, in her small office, she wore a sympathetic smile and her gaze was warm. You felt as though life and its troubles would cease their crimes against your broken heart the second you stepped in the room. But, still, you looked at her with lost sights, emotions swarming in pupils.

“I don’t think there is a word to describe it. All I know is I ache tremendously and nothing seems to fix this pit in my stomach. I. What do I do?” you begged for an answer.

“I’m afraid I cannot answer that. What I can say is, you’ve been thinking your entire life at Hogwarts with your head. You are a bright witch with a wonderful future ahead of her. You are hardworking and studious, and kind. But, you only seem to listen to your head for answers, you look for the logical position for your chess pieces. Stop your thinking. For a moment, listen silently, what does your heart say?”

Professor McGonagall looked at the time before sighing to herself, “I do suppose I’ve kept you too long, I trust you can find your way back to the common room?”

You nodded and stood, brushing off your skirt. “Of course. Thank you Professor for the biscuits. If it means anything, I’m sure Dougal loved you very much.”

“Y/L/N,” Professor called before you left, “You are welcome any time here, I was not lying when I said you were one of my favorite students.”

You smiled back, “And I wasn’t lying when I said you were one of my favorite Professors.”

As you walked back to the Gryffindor common room, Professor McGonagall’s story repeated in your head, pounding against your brain and begging to be analyzed. If you thought carefully, letting go of Sirius was equivalent to McGonagall’s separation with Dougal. If you chose your studies and your career, Would you miss out on a life with your soulmate? There was no doubt in your mind that your heart belonged to a certain long-haired beloved. As the Fat Lady looked at you with great pity, you entered the common room, peaking around for Lily. The fire seemed to be the only source of warmth as it lit up the room, leaving shadows cast along the walls. You figured Lily must still be at dinner considering the common room was empty. You rubbed your tired eyes and sat on an armchair facing the fireplace.

Sirius had decided wallowing was doing nothing but driving him across the wall. He threw a shirt over his shoulders and bounced down the stairs to meet the boys at dinner when he saw you. He could spot you from miles away even if he were blind to the bone. He recognized the old sweater you wore, one that had previously been owned by him. You loved the sweater despite threads coming loose and the smell of Sirius’ cologne fading away. He saw your hands curled up in fists, something you did when you were quite emotional or tired and the low messy bun you had pulled your hair into.

“I thought you were at dinner, Lils,” you spoke quietly, making him freeze. It had been so long, so many minutes and hours since he’d last heard your voice. “If you are here to drag me to the Great Hall, I have to decline as I’m morbidly exhausted from that emotional conversation with McGonagall.”

Sirius attempted to find his voice, begging his vocal cords to say anything to you but all he could do was stand there, dumbfounded and aching to hear your voice once more.

“Lily?” you expected to see your red-headed friend but instead made eye contact with him. “Oh.”

“Just Sirius,” he said awkwardly. You stood so you could face him, holding your hands in front of you.

You swallowed harshly and wished you had at least looked somewhat more manageable. “Sirius.”

“Y/N.” he answered. It was hushed, noiseless, painful. “Say something,” he begged.

“What do you want me to say, Siri?” he flinched when you used his nickname. You hadn’t even meant to use it, it just slipped off your tongue before you could realize it.

“Just. Say anything, yell at me, anything. Be angry at me!”

“Why would I be angry?” You weren’t angry. You were hurt.

“For...”

“For what?” you creased your eyebrows.

“For kissing that girl at the party.”

You pursed your lips and Sirius only held sadness in his eyes. “Sirius...”

“I kissed another girl that wasn’t you, and it is absolutely tearing me apart. I want you to be angry with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Be mad! Yell at me!”

“Sirius,” you stopped him, putting a gentle, small hand on his arm, “We broke up.”

Sirius threw his arms in the air and ran a finger through his hair frustratedly, “that doesn’t make it okay.”

“Doesn’t it? We broke up,”

“No! It doesn’t because I told you, I promised you, I swore I would never kiss another person. I promised I was yours and yours only. And I am. I mean... I was.”

“Sirius, please,” you choked, “It’s hard enough to be around each other already.”

“Don’t you miss me? Miss us?” Sirius had to stop himself from gathering you in his arms and rubbing the small of your back. Biting your lip and eyes beginning to water, you said as quietly as you could,

“Of course I do. I miss you more and more every day. And yes, it... it hurt to see you with that Ravenclaw girl, but it doesn’t matter. We aren’t dating anymore.”

“I don’t know. I think.” He laughed humourlessly, as if the air escaping his lungs were nearly painful to feel, “I think I would’ve gone mental if I had seen you kissing someone.”

“I...” you stopped and sighed. You sat down on the couch, moving slightly to the left. Sirius looked cautiously before sitting next to you, facing you as you looked towards the fire.

“We can still talk, can’t we? We used to talk all night until Moony would shush us like an old librarian.”

“I don’t know, Sirius. It’s hard. Isn’t it? It’s hard.”

“I know. But, I miss talking. Won’t you just tell me how you’re doing?”

You debated on lying, telling him you were fantastic, but something in you begged you to tell the truth even if it felt like magma on your tongue. “I’m not doing well.”

“Are you stressed about school? I’ve told you many times, you’re the smartest witch in our year, I doubt you have anything to worry about.”

“That’s not it.” you bit your lip, turning from the fire to look at those eyes you so deeply longed for.

“Then what?”

“It’s difficult.”

“Try me.”

“It’s difficult... with us, or without us, I should say.”

Sirius slightly flinched hearing those words and swallowed harshly, “I get the feeling.”

“How have you been?” you asked curiously, studying the way his eyebrows creased and his fingers threading through his hair.

“Same as you, I suppose.”

“Really?”

“Prongs and the boys, they’ve been on my back lately. Say I’ve been moping too much, I’m a downer it seems.”

You giggled under your breath and wrapped your arms around yourself, “Lily says the same. Though, I guess she’s just worried.”

“Worried?”

“I haven’t been sleeping as well, I’m sure you’ve noticed the bags under my eyes,”

“No,” Sirius said truthfully, “I think you still look as beautiful as ever.”

Your lungs stopped breathing, every airway and vein in your body closed as you began to shut down. You stood abruptly and began racing towards the dorm staircase.

“Stop!” Sirius shouted making you freeze, your hand still on the banister. “Stay. Talk to me.”

You wiped angry tears from your face that you didn’t even notice dripped down your cheeks, “And say what? It. it’s torturous, it’s beyond excruciating to be around you.” You thought about your chat with McGonagall, begging your heart to speak, scream anything to make to stop your head from making decisions.

Sirius’ lips frowned, hurt at your tone and your words. “Baby...”

“No! I. It’s too difficult.”

“Why?”

“Because when I look at you, when I see you, when I feel you around me, everything tells me I’ve made a mistake. Is that what you wanted to hear? I made a mistake. I fucked up. I fucked up because I was terrified of us. I was scared of driving you away, scared of you deciding you didn’t love me anymore. And I can’t. I can’t do it! I can’t. I made a mistake.” you spat out breathlessly. Sirius watched in horror as you began to hyperventilate and dove to put his arms around you. He had seen your panic attacks and held you through every one, but this time it felt different. Your breathing began to rapidly increase as you couldn’t hold back broken sobs.

“Breathe, breathe, love. It’s okay. It’s all okay.” he held your face in his hands, cupping your cheeks like he used to. Your eyes searched his desperately for any buoy that could save you from the drowning you felt. As he blinked, you found your life vest, holding on for dear life as you breathed fresh air into scattered lungs.

“Breathe, okay? ‘M right here, not going anywhere.” he whispered low, kissing your forehead and wiping your tears.

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed, “I made a mistake. I love you. I do. I’m so sorry. What have I done? I love you. I love you more than anything, and I’ve ruined it all.” you threw yourself at him, arms gripping tightly as he caught you. Sirius’ arms snaked around yours, pulling you back to life, back to the earth. He was yours. He knew it. He’s never been anyone elses and he never plans to. How stupid he had been to let you go, to kiss another girl, to pretend he was okay when he was truly devastated.

“We’re okay, yeah? Take care of each other, now, yeah?” Sirius rocked you slowly, feeling your cries die down in the comfort of his arms.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too, darling.” Sirius guided you slowly to the couch, setting you comfortably on the cushions, “sit for a while,”

You nodded loosely as you leaned on his chest, hiccuping with cries. “I thought I was doing the right thing, leaving you. Had I known how wrong it was, I would’ve thrown myself off the Astronomy tower before ever breaking up with you.”

“Don’t say that,” Sirius hushed, “I know, you thought it was the right thing. You were trying to protect yourself and me.”

“I’m a fool. A stupid, foolish girl.” you muttered, still catching your breath.

“Don’t say that either. I made mistakes too, perhaps one I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, Sirius.” you began to cry again, “I don’t care if you kissed another girl. I don’t. I just care that I’m the girl you want next to your side.”

He turned your limp body so he could cup your cheeks again, rubbing with the pads of his thumbs. “You will always be the girl. Always. Nothing will change that.”

“Sirius,” you whispered, looking at his lips.

“Yes, love?”

“Kiss me.”

That was all Sirius needed to hear. For days, weeks, endless hours, the two of you, broken hearted souls walked the earth wondering when the pain would end. Sirius tried drinking, you tried swallowing textbooks whole. Nothing seemed to work. Nothing seemed to mend the hurt you felt panging your insides, sending waves of heat down your spines. Nothing could distract you from the absolute shattering sadness that your bodies felt. Two broken hearted souls. Two souls joining for a kiss. A kiss that would last centuries as Sirius vowed to marry you the minute your lips connected. Togetherness, the touch of a soulmate. He moved his lips against yours slowly, tasting, memorizing and wishing this moment would never end. Salty tears and content smiles, at last, the two broken souls found what truly mended, what stitched your hearts back together. Each other. Forever in eternity, never drifting apart for long as fate, the universe and every good hearted soul brought you two together.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black #sirius black imagines #Marauders #marauders imagines #marauders imagine #james potter imagine #james potter #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #sirius black oneshot #harry potter masterlist

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whumpzone · 3 years

Text

(masterpost)

(I wrote a very nsfw flashback from Col’s past, which can be read here. Heed the warnings and have fun)

As the days went by, Pet quickly realised that Master’s cat was a little… imperfect. He could tell from the way she sometimes bumped her head into doorframes, or table legs, that her vision wasn’t the best. She was old, by the looks of it. Old and slow, and Master clearly loved her very much.

“Hello my little Jaffa,” he murmured, scooping her up, running his fingers through her thick fur. Her eyelids sank down until she looked like she was fast asleep.

It made Pet’s chest ache. Why was Master making him watch this? Did he enjoy being cruel? Pet already knew he wasn’t here to receive affection like that, and the reminders hurt. Especially knowing Master could love his pet even if it wasn’t in perfect shape.

He still hadn’t been given any clear orders, and Pet was starting to think Master was giving him time to heal. Getting him as robust as possible before breaking him down again. The waiting was tough, and not knowing what was to come was worse. But Pet couldn’t speculate, he just couldn’t, or else he’d skirt too close to the memories he kept shut out- the ones he kept hidden, even from himself.

Master’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “Hey, Col, want to come and sit up here with me? I have some biscuits here you might like.”

. . .

Col nodded in that quick, nervous-rabbit way of his, and stood up. He liked kneeling on the carpet, Linden had noticed. He kneaded his balled hands through it like a cat. Kneeling was fine, Linden told himself, as long as he didn’t crawl. And to the boy’s credit, he was doing very well with that.

He walked over now, at about to same speed Jaffa often walked at, trying to mitigate the impact of her frequent head bumps. Linden set her down and slowly grabbed his mug of herbal tea and the packet of biscuits, while Col watched him. Waiting for permission. Linden was starting to wonder if the boy was even able to speak, or if something in his past had rendered him mute. His past had clearly rendered him a lot of things- it was figuring out what could be healed that mattered.

“Come, you can sit here,” Linden patted the wooden chair. “If you want to. You can just get a biscuit and go back to the carpet, if you’d prefer.”

It was as if Col almost started to consider it, then thought better and forced himself into the chair, curling one foot underneath him.

“Comfortable?” Another quick nod. “Okay, good.”

Linden noticed how Col seemed to relax a little at that. Baby steps, he reminded himself. It’s okay to tell him he’s good, if that’s what he needs right now.

He sat along from him, close but hopefully not too close. He tore open the packet and handed it to Col. “Here. They taste nice. You can take one and eat it.”

He peered at it, like he expected it to bite. Then, constantly checking Linden’s face as he did so, he reached in and picked one up. Linden waited patiently, then took one for himself. As he bit into it, so did Col. Okay. This was going alright.

. . .

Master was eating one too, so they weren’t poisoned. Or maybe he had just built up a resistance. Or maybe they weren’t harmful to humans, only dogs?

None of that mattered, of course. Master had ordered him to eat. His orders were odd, they weren’t barked at him like Pet’s first owner, but that didn’t make them any less unavoidable.

It did taste good. It was sweet, nothing like the sour dog food that had sustained him for years.

Pet noticed he had dropped a small crumb onto the table and quickly licked it up gratefully. He wouldn’t dare waste food given to him. It was still weird, not eating from Master’s hand.

“You don’t- it’s okay, it’s just a crumb,” Master scolded him, and Pet ducked his head at the reprimand. Maybe it was funny watching him act like a human- Master was probably laughing at the way he wobbled on the chair, and held the biscuit in his disused hands, and fed himself. He was sure any moment now Master was going to smile and tell him how stupid he looked, what a dumb dog he was.

Pet drifted back to reality at the smell of something even sweeter than his treat. It was coming from the mug in Master’s hands, held securely between his fingers, each one with a painted black nail. Master noticed him staring before Pet could look away, and he cringed. Messing up as usual.

“You want a sip? It’s herbal tea. It’s hot, mind.”

Another order. Pet nodded obediently.

. . .

It was an easy mistake, and one Linden should’ve seen coming, given how out of practice Col was with his hands. Linden let go of the mug before Col had properly gripped it. Right over Linden’s lap.

Linden was aware of the burning against his thighs before he had even seen the mug drop. He jerked up, the chair clattering to the floor behind him, and Col gasped in pure horror.

“Shit, ow, ow, ow!” he cursed automatically.

Sounds beside him. Looking over, Col was already knelt with his face to the floor, trembling all over, and Linden’s thighs were burning and he really had to do something about that first-

“Woah, no, it’s okay, it’s just an accident, I have to get these trousers off, ow…” he muttered, quickly pulling his belt out and, suddenly realising he shouldn’t be getting undressed in front of Colton, scrambling upstairs.

. . .

Pet wasn’t sure if Master was still here- he had heard noises, he thought, going upstairs, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen, every instinct telling him to stay and take his punishment like a good dog.

He had hurt Master. He couldn’t stop trembling. His mouth quivered, his breaths coming out in whines. Fat heavy tears dribbled down his cheeks and onto the floorboards.

He was so bad, such a stupid insolent mutt, and bad dogs got punished, didn’t they, bad pets who can’t behave got belted and burned. Bad pets got taken upstairs to be restrained and, and-

Pet whimpered, a full-body sob that was so close to speaking he almost vomited from fear, and ground his face against the floor, trying to make the thoughts stop. That was his old life and he had a new Master now and this one might be different, he might be worse, but he couldn’t cry before it had even started and he had burned Master’s legs, burns hurt so badly and he was so, so useless that he just wanted the pain to start right now, so he could show he was sorry.

He could feel the cartilage in his nose jostling as he rolled his head. His heartbeat was pounding into his ears. He was in so much trouble, and he was so so sorry but it wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t be allowed to use his hands ever again.

A bump, at the top of the stairs. Footsteps. Coming towards him.

His thoughts went into overdrive. Master was coming and Pet had hurt him and now Master was angry. He had never seen him light up like that before, suddenly so quick and sharp and fierce. Pet’s hands skittered by his shoulders. He could feel every joint. Would they all be broken, perhaps? Burned? It would make sense to burn them. He deserved to have them burnt, even though that made him cry harder. Or maybe Master would concentrate on his thighs. Pour boiling water on them, then make him walk. Perhaps he’d peel the burning skin off and press knives to the raw flesh and make him scream. Or maybe he’d pin Pet’s hands down and bludgeon them until they didn’t even resemble hands anymore

You braindead animal. He’s not going to pick one or the other, you fucking idiot. He’s going to do them both and you’re going to thank him.

Master was stood over him, now. Looking at his unworthy dog, grovelling before him.

. . .

Linden couldn’t imagine how he would look threatening to anyone right now, in the only pair of shorts he could find, his thighs coated in cream. He’d had to roll the shorts up past his burns, and safety pinned them there.

But he knew, he knew, that didn’t matter. He knew Col wouldn’t look up from where he was cowering on his knees, sobbing audibly, and crack a smile.

The tall person in his care looked very, very small right now. He was knelt exactly where he’d dropped to the floor. No running, no backing away. Just like he’d been trained to. It made Linden feel ill. He had to take this slowly.

“Okay, okay, I’m here,” he started, keeping his voice slow and calm, knowing that his presence was Col’s worst nightmare right now. He had lost his cool earlier and he wished he could take it back, even though it was useless blaming himself. It was a shock, and a painful one. Anyone would’ve sworn. But he still felt a twist of guilt when he saw Col lock up, frozen in fear save for his persistent trembling. Linden could tell he was trying to stop himself from crying.

“Okay, you’re allowed to cry, crying is normal. Can you look up at me?”

Col did as he was told. His mouth was wobbling downwards, his nose red from being pressed against the floor. His hands were fully curled up.

Linden didn’t have a chance to say anything more before Col’s wild, terrified eyes found Linden’s belt on the table and he whimpered, holding his hands out eerily quickly, palms up, ready and unresisting.

Linden knew that if he took the belt and slashed Col’s hands with it, the boy wouldn’t fight back at all. He’d cry and moan, but he wouldn’t fight.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m not. I wouldn’t hurt you, ever.”

He thought about putting his hands in Col’s, gently lowering them and rubbing soft circles with his thumbs, but he shook the thought away. Who knows what he might interpret that as.

Instead, he picked up the belt, feeling Col’s eyes on him while his back was turned, and threw it upstairs.

“No belt,” he said, “I won’t belt you, I won’t hurt you at all. Your hands are safe. I’m not angry with you. It was an accident. Can you look at me?”

He complied, of course he did. His eyes were burning with regret and fear.

“See my thighs? I’ve put some cream on them, to help with the burns. It’ll make them better.”

After a few seconds, Col nodded.

“You will know that burns hurt a lot,” Col whimpered, but Linden tried not to rush his words out. “That’s why I snapped. I was surprised, but not angry. I’m not angry. You can see in my face and hear in my voice that I’m calm and I won’t hurt you. Just because you spilled some tea on me, doesn’t mean you have to hurt too. It was just an accident. And I can tell you’re sorry.”

This was the magic word, it seemed. Col nodded desperately, eyes wide, as he blinked fresh tears down his face.

“Thank you. Apology accepted. It’s okay, it’s all okay. You’re safe and I won’t hurt you. In fact-“

. . .

“…And I can tell you’re sorry.”

Pet could have fainted with relief. His body was still prickling with fear, waiting for the punishment, and Pet couldn’t yet believe Master when he said he wouldn’t hurt him. But he could definitely show he was sorry.

He nodded, trying to get it just right, trying to look eager but not careless, guilty but not too pitiful.

I am so sorry, Master. Your stupid lowly animal is so sorry, your pathetic dog is sorry and won’t ever do it again, thank you for showing your slave pet mercy.

He was definitely being prepped for something, but Pet pushed it from his mind. Master was giving him a chance and he had to show his gratitude.

“Thank you. Apology accepted. It’s okay, it’s all okay. You’re safe and I won’t hurt you. In fact-“

Master walked somewhere behind him, returning a few seconds later with Jaffa in his arms, setting her down beside him.

“Jaffa always makes me feel better,” he said. Pet had no idea what he was talking about, but he nodded anyway, then leant down to kiss Master’s feet, thanking him with his body in the way that didn’t scare him. He only managed one kiss before Master stepped away, and Pet hoped it had been enough to show that he knew his place, and he was sorry, and he would do anything to please Master. It was a lot to show in a single gesture.

“I’ll be upstairs, if you need me. You’re safe, you’re okay, I’m not angry. If you want, you can cuddle Jaffa for a bit. Okay? Okay. See you in a bit, Col.”

Pet watched Master leave, his wiry legs climbing the stairs until they vanished entirely. Jaffa rubbed her cheek along Pet’s folded legs, and he nervously reached out a hand, sinking it into her fur. His hands, that he still had. Pet felt like he was starting to understand what Master was keeping him for, but he didn’t want to accept it. Instead, he stroked Jaffa and dried his eyes, the taste of biscuit still in his mouth.

(tagging: @newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @temporary-whump-sideblog @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @whumpwillow @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread @vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whumps @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate @littlespacecastle @haro-whumps @extrabitterbrain @briars7)

#pet whump #dehumanisation #conditioned whumpee #burns tw #ALSO. ITS 4AM #IF THERE ARE SPELLING ERRORS IM SORRY:(#i will come back and correct them in the morning #i just wanted to get this out for you lovely lot #and i hope you all enjoy!!#linden and colton

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gasolineghuleh · 3 years

Text

Brattitude

Commission for @simply-skeletons for a Daddy Dom Aether and a bratty reader!

cw: contains daddy kink, choking, and squirting.

Not SFW below, No minors!

You sigh and stretch, rolling your shoulders and looking along the stretched out dining room table, laden with breakfast foods. Platters of eggs are heaped high alongside plates of bacon and sausage, pitchers of various juices and teas and the occasional scone or biscuit. None of it draws your attention quite as much as the Ghouls, however. The chatter of your fellow Siblings manages to drown out any chance of hearing conversation from the Ghoul table, but you aren’t exactly trying to hear anything— just trying to get his attention. When his pale blue glowing eyes finally turn to you, the zap of sudden attention pierces your core like a lightning bolt. Aether inclines his head towards you gently and mouths a single instruction:

“Eat.” You frown in response, toying with the scrambled eggs on your plate before looking back at him. He’s still watching you, of course, his own piece of semi-raw bacon held tightly between his claws as he waits for you to take a bite. When you shake your head with a smirk, he returns the gesture, inclining his head towards you again. “Now,” he mouths quietly, his tail pointing firmly towards your plate. You can tell that he’s enjoying the game by the way that he’s begun holding himself, subconsciously appearing taller and more in charge than he really is.

No one has noticed your little game besides Rain, sitting directly beside Aether. His eyes move between the two of you as he smiles around his own bites of food, clearly enjoying watching your silent standoff. This only prompts you to push your plate away from yourself and turn your attention to your friends, joining in on their conversation with ease and ignoring your Ghoul for the rest of the meal. When you do finally grab a bite of something to eat, it’s a glazed and sweetened scone rather than something of actual nutritional value. It isn’t until later, when the tables are cleared and everyone is bustling about to leave for their morning activities that you feel Aether’s hand close around your bicep tightly- the points of his claws dig just lightly into your bare arm and you can already feel a thrill going up your spine.

“Being a bit of a spoiled one this morning, are we?” Aether’s warm voice curls around your senses like heated honey and incense smoke before a ritual and you feel yourself going slightly weak in the knees before you recover— you need to have your wits about you in order for this game to work, after all. It’s not one that you play often with him, but one that you know he enjoys almost as much as you do. After all, he always says he’s attracted to more of a brat than a tamed pet anyway.

“Wouldn’t want you to think you have all of the control, after all.” You’re able to meet his gaze, only slightly narrowed in amusement, before your eyes slide off to the side and spot Rain standing slightly behind him, still clutching his morning protein shake— not doubt full of the nutrients he’ll be needing for the strenuous rhythm practice with Mountain he’ll be heading off to shortly. “Good morning, Rain. How are you?” The Ghoul raises an eyebrow when you address him, inclining his head towards you in a silent greeting.

“Better than you’re going to be by the end of it,” he quips with a grin, finding the straw with his lips quickly and giving Aether a nod. With a loud slurp from the shake he wanders off, tail swishing happily.

“You’ve given him enough to be pleased about all day. I hope you’re happy.” Aether’s hand tightens dangerously on your arm once more before he lets go, folding his arms as he watches his musical partner sashay through the large doors and into the Abbey proper. “He loves when one of our pets misbehaves. Just makes him brag about his own.” Rain disappears around the corner of the large door to the meeting hall in the direction of the soundproof music rooms and you hold back a snort of laughter, turning your attention back to your own Ghoul.

“Oh? In that case, yes, I’m very happy.” Your friend calls your name to get your attention, waving you over to them and you nod, beginning to walk away from Aether. Already you can hear his growl of annoyance deep in his chest— it’s been ages since you’ve been bratty with him, and you can tell that the punishment (or perhaps reward) would be worth it… and a long time coming.

“Hey! I’m not done with you, princess,” Aether says, a warning clear in his voice. Despite your better judgement, you persevere with your plan. You can practically feel the tightly controlled scolding simmering below the surface as he grinds the heel of his foot into the carefully waxed stone floor of the dining hall. “Sister-”

“Turns out I am, though! Catch you later, Aeth.” You give him a small wave and blow him a kiss, practically skipping away to join your friends and leave the dining hall. It’s a beautiful day outside and you all have made plans to spend most of it in the orchard, doing absolutely nothing.

It’s one of the few days a month where the Siblings in the Abbey are given free reign to do with their time as they please— no lessons, mass, or scheduled events. As you and your small group of friends find a place on the grass to lay down and relax you can hear the shouts of other Siblings running past, playing games or having spirited discussions. Still, your ear is cocked for any sign of Aether or one of his bandmates keeping an eye on you. You know that at least Rain and Mountain will be mostly preoccupied, but Dew has a penchant for chasing his own pets throughout the Abbey gardens on down days. He and Aether often chat about how they enjoy the “prey and predator” feeling that comes with the territory.

“You know that won’t end well, right?” your friend asks with a groan as she lays down in the grass beside you. Jolted out of your thoughts of being chased by Aether through the surrounding woods, you snap your focus back to your friends. You shrug as best as you can and tuck your arms under your head, content to watch the clouds roll by in puffy formations as you try to shake off the sudden urge to run that’s coursing through your legs like lightning.

“I know what he likes and what he doesn’t. I won’t push him too far,” you explain. One of your friends grumbles in agreement, muttering something about how he’s currently tied up with Dew. Those who have an arrangement with their Ghouls know how far to take things when asked. The sun warms your bones and it doesn’t take long before it feels like you’re practically melting into the Earth. You’re drawn from your reverie when your friend snaps her hand in front of you again, attempting to get your attention. “What? What?”

“I said, ‘he’s looking for you’. Look.” She points in a general direction, masking her gesture with a cough and using her elbow. You roll your eyes good naturedly but look anyway— sure enough, Aether is on the lawn, sitting on a large rock and watching you carefully as he balances a book on his knee. Your other friend, the one currently entangled with Dew, makes a not-so-subtle cooing noise under his breath.

“He’s watching you, isn’t he? Got his eyes on his little pet. Yeah, you got a good Ghoul in that one. Isn’t it great how they watch us sometimes?” Even though your stomach is aflutter from the sudden attention, your friend’s voice still manages to rub you the wrong way— it isn’t lascivious, it’s just some good old fashioned teasing.

“He does that even when I’m not being a brat, in all fairness.” You lift your arm and wave at him, smiling to yourself when he returns the gesture, albeit with a slightly confused expression. “He just loves me, that’s all.” The sun feels excellent on your face and you tilt back towards it, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Aether is the farthest thing from your mind as you and your friends chatter on, linking your hands together and comparing various studies and opinions on everything under the sun.

Soon enough, however, a shadow falls over the three of you. Across the lawn you hear a piercing whistle and are hardly surprised when you look up, finding that it belongs to Dew. When you look beside you to mention this to your friend he’s already gone, sprinting to join his own Ghoul— no doubt eagerly answering the summons that you’ve chosen to ignore for the day. You roll your eyes and look up to what’s causing the shadow, only barely blinking when you notice that it’s Aether.

“You want something for lunch, my princess?” he asks, holding out a small brown bag, no doubt packed with your favourite foods. When you decide to be a brat, he always attempts to sway you back under his thumb with your favourite snacks or books, and it almost always works. The temptation is overwhelming, and you can smell the food already— roast beef, potato chips, and a Twinkie. Your stomach clenches in a small display of hunger, but you screw up your mouth as if you’re thinking about it.

“Oh, here we go,” your friend chirps from beside you. She rolls onto her back deftly and gets up, leaving quicker than you thought was possible. Alone with Aether, you laugh and sit up, patting the grass beside you.

“Perhaps. Sit with me?” Aether nods and sits beside you, opening the paper bag and drawing out the sandwich that you knew lurked inside. You swallow hard, looking at it for a moment until he hands it over to you.

“Are you going to be a good girl for your daddy and eat some proper food, unlike this morning?” Aether inclines his head towards you and holds the sandwich out until you take it greedily, unwrapping it and taking a large bite. Instantly his hand flips and grabs your wrist tightly, squeezing until you look at him, eyes wide. “Slow down. I don’t want you getting sick. Okay?” When you don’t answer instantly, he jerks your hand slightly until you nod, resuming your chewing. “Good girl.”

“I try,” you mumble around the mouthful of sandwich. He smiles and shakes his head, laughing a little as he pats your knee with a large hand.

“I figured as much.” Aether watches you for a moment as you chew in silence before reaching into the bag and drawing out his own sandwich, a partially cooked slab of steak on ciabatta. “Boss made bread again. All of us are having steak sandwiches, courtesy of Cirrus,” he says in answer to your raised eyebrow.

“Is it any good? The bread, I mean.” You swallow an overly large bite and cough a little, noticing with a frown when Aether does nothing to help you through the almost-not-quite-a-choke. He merely waits for you to finish as he chews patiently before answering with a dry smile.

“Hubris. And yes, it is. He has talent.” You roll your eyes at him in a wide circle and toss the last bite of the crust of your sandwich in a far arc into the woods before digging in the bag for the Twinkie that you know is hidden at the bottom. “You still aren’t eating your crusts?” Aether asks in a disapproving tone.

“You know I don’t like them. They’re yucky.” Twinkie retrieved, you pull it out and open the wrapper quickly, poking your tongue out at Aether as you settle back down to eat your treat. “Crusts have no nutritional value, you know.”

“‘Yucky’? It’s bread.” Aether tosses the rest of his own sandwich into his mouth and claps his hands to his thighs. “Right. Lunch break is over. Be in my room at 8, dressed for sleep. Don’t be late.” Before you can open your mouth to respond he’s already unfolded himself from the grass, dusted off his smart black slacks and left.

Your friends eventually migrate back to your area, one of them looking slightly disheveled, and you manage to evade their constant questions about what exactly happened over lunch. Being teased for being a Ghoul pet isn’t exactly a new occurrence, but the attention from Aether in public certainly is— and you’re warming up to it. When you mention this to your friends, one of them perks up a little bit.

“Dew loves it when I brat around in public. But you know what he loves even more?” He leans closer, winking at you when you shy away, suddenly embarrassed at the topic. “When I do it in private. When he can scold me. Trust me, do that to Aether tonight when he asked you to show up for bed. It’ll drive him wild.”

“I mean… You seem to know best, I suppose.” You pause, thinking for a moment before asking the question on the tip of your tongue. “How could I do that?”

“Oh, easy!” your other friend suddenly supplies, flushing when your attention shifts to her. Her eyes focus on the sunset in the distance as she talks, firmly fixing her gaze away from you. “Maybe you just show up… Not quite ready. Maybe one thing is slightly off. With how he’s been acting and how disobedient you’ve been today, maybe it’ll just send him over the edge.” You sit up and stretch before rising to your feet, giving it some thought before you respond.

“I think I can manage that.” With that, you toss your friends a wink and flounce back to the Abbey, a spring in your step as a plan forms in your mind’s eye.

Later, at half past 8 in the evening, you knock loudly on Aether’s door before letting yourself in. The Ghoul has clearly been waiting for you impatiently, as evidenced by his posture on the edge of his bed and the drumming of his claws against the wooden posts holding up the mattress. Aether stands up as soon as you fling his door open, kicking it shut quickly behind you with a hiss.

“I instructed you to be at 8! Sharp!” His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, scanning your outfit before frowning. “And you’re wearing… your habit still? I said come dressed for bed. Sathanas, do you just like to disobey me?”

“Maybe I do,” you offer, your eyes meeting his and not deviating. You watch as his pupils dilate in quick and sudden arousal, his chest widening as his breathing deepens. The tip of his tongue darts out briefly to wet his lower lip and before you know it, his hand is clasped to the back of your neck. Aether’s claws dig briefly into the soft skin at the sides of your neck and you gasp, already bending under the pressure he’s exerting as you fall to your knees.

“Then maybe I like forcing obedience. Did you ever consider that, Sister, hm?” Aether says, his voice becoming a low hiss in your ear as he crouches in front of you, watching as your face gets closer and closer to the ground. Just before your nose hits the carpet he lets go of you roughly, turning and stalking back to his bed before snapping his fingers sharply. “Crawl to daddy, Sister. Show me how sorry you are for disobeying me in front of all of those people today.”

When you look up at him, crawling forward on your hands and knees, you can’t help the thought that he surely does make a pretty sight when he’s seated above you. His eyes are glowing in a mixture of arousal, arrogance and annoyance as he beckons to you with two fingers, pointing at the ground in front of him. You slide your hands reverently up his legs to his knees before continuing along his thighs, pausing when you reach the upper portion of the taut muscles. He just nods, motioning for you to continue before reaching up and tearing off your hair covering, tossing it into a far corner of the room.

“Such a pious little Sister, aren’t you? On your knees for a leader of the church. A true servant.” Aether’s tone is mocking and condescending, but you don’t have the time to be embarrassed at the hot spike of lust that spears through your cunt. His hands pull down his fly and then his cock is in front of you, held at base by his fist and enticingly close to your lips. “Go on then. Serve.”

As soon as you bring your lips to the head of his cock he thrusts forward, his free hand coming to the back of your head and entangling in your hair, now free of the head covering. He groans as you slip yourself lower, dipping your tongue down to caress over his knuckles, making sure to show him how in control you are of yourself. When the head of his cock bumps your soft palate you cough slightly, using the moment to readjust yourself on your knees. His hand grips tighter in your hair, dragging you up along his shaft until he pulls you off of him, gasping and already drooling.

“I love you best like this, you know, princess. Supple and pliant. You’re so willing to just… finally- do everything I say. Isn’t that right?” You nod with difficulty when his fingers tighten in your hair almost painfully as his other hand runs the head of his cock along your lips. Aether hisses inward when your tongue flicks out to greet it, sliding himself past your lips once more and dragging you down until your nose bumps against his pelvis.

You moan around him, shifting on the floor as you feel the nylon of your stockings beginning to stick to you even more with every thrust of his hips. When you gasp inward, choking on his cock until tears roll out of your eyes, he presses his advantage and moves his hands to either side of your face. Aether waits until you make eye contact with him and nods subtly, pressing you down into his lap and holding you there momentarily before letting you up once more as he coos down at you.

“That’s a good girl, princess. You’re being such a good girl for daddy finally, aren’t you?” Aether’s thumb strokes along your cheek as he manipulates you, dragging you along his shaft slowly. His eyes never leave your lips, watching as his cock disappears into your mouth over and over. Finally he lets you up for air, sitting further back on the bed and patting his lap firmly. “I think you’ve deserved a bit of a reward, don’t you?”

“Only if daddy thinks I have,” you respond with ease, rising from your knees and settling on his lap to face away from him, just how he likes it.. He presses his palm to your stomach, tucking you against his chest as he raises your leg and plants it firmly on the bed beside you. You manage to keep it there as his hand trails along your body, rubbing your leg lovingly until he finally finds the wet patch at the apex of your thighs, dampened with your slick and no doubt evident to his searching fingers.

“Oh, my. What do we have here, princess? Are you all wound up just from servicing daddy?” You manage to nod and tuck your head against his shoulder, knowing exactly what he plans to do next— the sight of it always leaves you weak in the stomach and clenching for more. Sure enough, you can feel the grab of his claw as it snags in the nylon of your stocking, and the tugging only intensifies as he sheers through the fabric. Aether growls low in his throat when he feels your lack of panties, already moving his fist back towards his cock to direct it to your entrance. “Just couldn’t wait any more, could you?”

“Been thinking about this all day,” you sigh, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and closing your eyes as you lean against him. In no time, his cock has already found its way inside of you and he presses you down hard into his lap, grinding your ass against his hips as he seats himself to the hilt. “Fuck, that feels so nice, Aeth.” He nods and groans in agreement, kissing the side of your neck before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there.

Both of you moan in tandem as he shifts his hips, rocking upward into you at the same moment that the pad of his index finger finds your clit. He manages to keep up a decent rhythm as he helps you bounce on his lap, his finger swiping across you in a beat that you can’t quite predict— it’s enough to set off sparks of electricity across your skin every time he does it, though. Soon enough his tail begins to creep along the edges of your vision, finally settling along your other leg to wrap around your calf. When you nod your consent he lifts your leg with it gently, holding it aloft as his cock spears you, his other hand working you along his lap in a fervor as he nears his own climax.

“Aeth- Aeth, I need- All I need is-”

“I know,” he finishes for you, sealing your lips in a heated kiss as his teeth instantly score along your lower lip. The small nip of pain is enough to send you rocketing over the edge of your climax and you cum hard, stars bursting across your vision. You hear him murmuring to you, his lips grazing across yours softly as he does so, but you don’t have time to catch the words that he’s saying as you cum again, this time prompted by his sudden and concentrated assault on your clit with two fingers.

By the time you come to your senses and return from your out of body experience he’s already finished inside of you, his cock still pulsing with the last vestiges of his own orgasm. In front of you on the stone floor is a small pool of the evidence of your arousal and you flush bright red— you knew that was his goal all along, when he lifted your leg and started concentrating on your clit. Aether works your body like a well tuned guitar and you’re more than happy to let him do it as often as he’d like.

“Mm,” he hums, nuzzling his nose into your hair briefly, tail lowering your leg. “I told you to come dressed for bed… What are you going to sleep in now?” You laugh, laying your head back onto his shoulder and pressing a fond kiss to his cheek underneath the mask.

“I figured we wouldn’t be sleeping at all.”

“I can certainly make that happen,” he assents after a short pause.

#lorraine writes #fics #ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa emeritus #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #era 4 ghouls #aether #ns/fw

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Seven

AN: Alone time with Spencer Reid isn’t something you’re ever willing to pass up. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

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“I could eat a horse,” Emily grumbled, collapsing into her seat on the jet, “when’s the last time we had solid food?”

JJ shook her head, “God, I don’t know. Maybe yesterday?”

“18:43 yesterday,” Spencer agreed, shooting you a tired smile as he took a seat beside you, “that’s when the call from Martin came in.”

Everyone nodded, remembering the frenzy that followed the call, everyone rushing to gather SWAT units, interviewing witnesses again, formulating a plan of attack and a de-escalation strategy. It had been a blur of movement and activity and that, combined with the nearly 10 hour standoff that followed had carried you for well over 24 hours, and left everyone hungry, tired and in desperate need of a shower.

“Ugh, I did not miss this part of the job,” you whined in time with a loud grumble from your stomach, “do you have any idea how many meals I missed when I was working at the bookstore? None! Not one. I had three meals a day and as many biscuits as I could eat,” you sighed nostalgically, “those were the good days.”

Emily moaned, “Ah, biscuits. Tell me more.”

You chuckled and shot her a fond look.

“You’ve got no idea what you’re missing, Emily,” Spencer cut in, “the biscuits Y/N makes are heaven. The ‘better than sex’ ones?” He rolled his eyes and groaned, a noise that made your cheeks flush and sent a bolt of surprise straight through you, “I dream about them.”

JJ hummed her agreement, closing her eyes as she reminisced, “I remember those, they’re Will’s favorite too.”

“That’s because Will has excellent taste,” you joked, shooting her a flirty wink, “in all things.”

Emily frowned, “Hey! Don’t flirt with her, keep telling me about these Better Than Sex biscuits.”

It had been nearly two weeks since the last big break in your case and, honestly, it was starting to grate on your nerves. No matter what you did it was like there was this massive clock counting down the days until another body would be dropped in your lap, probably with some other creepy detail on it; like your first pet’s name carved into the victim’s forehead. Garcia had been tracking down security camera footage from the shopping center you’d visited to buy your perfume, but there hadn’t been too much luck. A lot of the shops had already taped over their footage, and the ones that hadn’t had been grainy or awkwardly placed. All that they could reliably see was a tall man in a dark coat with a baseball cap on mirroring your movements in a few different stores.

Garcia was trying her best to enhance the images but, until she could, they were stuck. The only thing that helped your nerves was being on cases, and the fact that you almost always had someone with you to help keep you distracted.

“Well, they’re biscuits,” you smiled.

“And?” Emily pushed.

“And they’re better than sex,” you finished.

Emily rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she did it, “That so?”

“I guess it depends on who you’re having sex with,” Spencer offered, meeting your eye for just a second, “in my experience they’re definitely better than casual meaningless sex, like a one night stand, but maybe not better than all sex.”

Your eyes widened and, much to your embarrassment, you felt yourself flush again. Spencer Reid and sex were two things that you worked very hard to keep separate in your mind. If they ever overlapped it happened in private and late at night, when no one was around to see your pupils dilate. You were a profiler. You were surrounded by profilers, and you’d learned long ago that the only way to keep secrets from a team like that was to make sure that your body language was stable and consistent at all times. Spencer Reid made that difficult. Spencer Reid casually talking about sex while his thigh was brushing up against yours made it damn near impossible.

“I need to try these biscuits,” Emily declared, “Y/N/N, will you make me some? Please?”

You snorted, “When? My shop’s closed indefinitely.”

“You can make them at my place,” Spencer said softly, just to you, “I haven’t used the oven in my apartment since...ever, I think, but it should work.”

“I’m-I’m staying at your place?”

Spencer shifted in his seat, “Yeah, it’s my turn. Garcia didn’t tell you?”

You made a mental note to shave Penelope’s eyebrows off at the earliest possible convenience in retaliation, but you kept your face neutral.

“No, she didn’t. Are you sure you’re okay with this, Spence? I don’t want to be a burden, and I know that you really value your privacy.” You asked, keeping your voice low.

Spencer smiled, something soft and fond glimmering in his dark eyes, “Of course I’m sure, Y/N. This is about keeping you safe.”

“I know but-“

“No!” Spencer interrupted with a laugh, “No buts. You’re staying at my place. Okay?”

You pressed your lips together, a million different arguments fighting for prominence in your mind.

“Okay?” Spencer repeated.

You deflated, “Fine. Okay.”

He leaned back in his seat and gave you a smug smile as he opened the book he’d brought with him. War and Peace, in the original Russian of course. It was a painfully nostalgic image and you felt your eyes start to droop with exhaustion.

“You’re impossible,” you yawned, “you know that?”

He smiled, “Yeah, yeah I know, Y/N. Get some rest, I’ll still be impossible when you wake up.”

You hummed, feeling a rush of comfort and warmth as you let sleep drag you under.

“Night, Reid,” you mumbled.

——————————-

Spencer was weirdly nervous as he fumbled for his apartment keys. It was stupid, of course, you’d been to his apartment before. Hell, you’d practically lived there in the weeks after Maeve’s death, but something about this felt...different. Maybe it was that he knew that you were in danger, and because of that you being there felt like an act of trust. Maybe he was nervous that he hadn’t cleaned up enough, or that you’d spent the entire flight with your head on his shoulder. Maybe he was worried that his oven actually didn’t work and he’d gotten your hopes up for nothing. Maybe it was-

“Spencer,” you said with a gentle laugh, “I can hear the cogs in your brain whirling. Calm down, everything’s going to be alright, I’ve seen your place before.”

Spencer smiled and he felt the tension start to ease out of his shoulders. Maybe it was just because it was you. The key finally slid into the door and he welcomed you in, grabbing your suitcase with one hand as he went.

“Welcome to Casa Reid,” he said, “ignore the books, unless you want to read any of them of course. You remember where my room is, right?”

You shot him a look, “What? No! Spence I’m already intruding on your fortress of solitude, I’m not taking your bedroom too.” You flopped down onto his couch, crossing your legs on the cushion and your arms across your chest with a determined glint in your eyes, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

He rolled his eyes fondly, “Really, Y/N/N? This is the hill you want to die on? I know you’re as tired as I am. Wouldn’t it be nice to just collapse into a soft bed?”

“I’m sure it would be,” you agreed, “you’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow morning.” You pushed yourself up and grabbed your suitcase from his hands with a sweet smile, “I would love a shower though. Maybe when I’m done you’ll have thought of a clever comeback? If not,” you shrugged, “we’ll get dinner.”

And with that you strode off in the direction of Spencer’s bathroom, shooting him one last playful smile as you went. As soon as you were out of sight Spencer sighed happily, collapsing onto the couch you’d just vacated and listening as the shower switched on. He was tired, bone tired; he was starving, he was thirsty and there was a dull sort of pressure in his temple that might have been the start of a headache, but despite all that he didn’t care. He was happy, almost giddy really, and that was enough. While the sound of the shower echoed through his apartment, Spencer let himself start to drift off.

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

The moment you were done talking Spencer’s world went quiet. All around him he could see his friends’ mouths moving, their shocked faces burned into his mind as they begged you for answers, but it was like they were on the other end of a really long corridor and he couldn’t quite make out their actual words. Instead there was just this rushing in his ears and the pounding of his heart, just a little too loud, as he tried to process the idea of his world without you in it.

“I’m leaving,” he heard you say again and again, like a stuck record in the back of his mind, “I handed in my resignation a while ago. I’m just here to pack up my things.”

For some reason that didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem right that you could be “leaving” and then be gone for good on the same day. It was too fast, Spencer hadn’t had time. Time to process, to think, to convince you to stay, to come with you, to tell you how he felt, to cry, to yell, to throw things, to laugh to-

“We’ll still see each other,” you lied through a sheepish smile, “this doesn’t have to be goodbye forever. Just goodbye for now.”

Spencer shook his head, his eyes trained on the patch of floor just between your feet like if he stared long enough it might give him the answer. The answer to what? It didn’t matter. He vaguely heard Garcia complaining in her own way, and JJ asking you to reconsider but, still, it was like it was happening to someone else. You’re dissociating, the rational part of his brain supplied, you’re dissociating because you can’t cope with losing someone you care about, you can’t cope with losing Y/N. He pushed the thought away, forcing it into a box somewhere in the very back of his mind as he fought to stay in control in the moment. Oh wow, Spencer Reid has abandonment issues, he thought to himself, how original.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, hoping it was too low for anyone to hear as he turned on his heel and walked straight out of the conference room.

As he went he could feel the sets of eyes on his back and the heavy weight of a mixture of confusion and pity they brought with them. For once he didn’t care. All that mattered was that his eyes were stinging and his chest was tight and, no matter what happened you couldn’t see him cry like this. He couldn’t let you see him break down because, the second that you did, he would be found out. You would put your arm on his shoulder and say something kind and he would look into your eyes and….you’d know. You’d see all the pain and the fear and the betrayal and you’d know in an instant how desperately and completely Spencer had fallen for you. And that couldn’t happen, it just couldn’t.

——————————-

Spencer sighed, shaking his head to snap himself out of the sad reminiscing. His heart was strangely heavy at the memory and he swallowed hard past the growing lump in his throat. That had been a hard day, but it had been nothing compared to what had come next. Showing up at work everyday and being met with your empty desk, the suffocating absence of your laughter, your voice, Derek and JJ trying desperately to compensate, Emily’s sullenness, even Garcia and her constant little check ins. Everything they did just made it more obvious that you weren’t there, that you’d really left, and that you were never coming back.

He looked towards his bedroom without meaning to, subtly reminding himself that you were there and that he wasn’t on his own anymore.

For now, the cynical voice in the back of his mind whispered. Until this case is solved and she packs up and leaves again like nothing happened. Then it’ll be just like it was before. Except that that wasn’t true. No, this time it’d be worse.

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

Spencer fiddled with the strap of his satchel, working his jaw as he tried to get up the nerve to either walk into the bookshop or turn and leave for good. It had been nearly four months since he’d last seen you, but you still texted regularly and sent him pictures of the store whenever you could. Not that it ever felt like enough. Four months of fighting himself and trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. Should he chase after you and beg you to come back? Should he offer to help around the bookstore in his free time? What did he want from you? What was his endgame here?

For a long while Spencer just watched you through the glass as the questions whirled around his head like a hurricane. You looked happy, he noticed as you laughed at something one of your employees said, like you were in your element. There was a peacefulness about the way you moved here too, like there was no hurry, like you had all the time in the world. It had been a long time since he’d seen you that happy. Not since that night, the one he wasn’t supposed to think about anymore. Not since he’d ruined everything and set your friendship on a collision course with disaster. You’d never said so, but Spencer knew that that night was why you left. He knew it was his fault, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

He sighed, fighting down a sudden rush of bitterness that tasted like ashes in his mouth. Something about seeing you, really seeing you again,brought all the hurt and confusion of that night back to the surface. Maybe it was just that it felt real now, final, like something that was always meant to happen the way it had. Something he had no control over. But you were happy, he reminded himself, and that was all he really wanted, right?

Spencer felt something in his chest splinter and, while his resolve was still firm, he turned on his heel and walked away. It wasn’t his place, he told himself again and again as he walked, he had no right.

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

“Spence?” You asked, your worried voice cutting straight through his daydream like a knife, “are you okay?”

His head whipped around and he felt the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen as he took you in. Your hair was wet from the shower, your skin dewy and soft-looking beneath your pajamas. You looked calm and strong, and so painfully familiar that Spencer felt something near his heart swell with appreciation. So he brought his attention back, leaving the mistakes of the past alone for the time being so that he could better enjoy the present. He was home, and you were safe and for a moment everything was right in the world.

“Yeah,” he answered with a smile, “yeah I’m good. I-uh-I didn’t want to order dinner before you were finished because I didn’t ask what you wanted.”

You relaxed ever so slightly, “Hmmm,” you started, making your way over to the couch and plopping down next to him like it was the most natural thing in the world, “how about pizza?”

Spencer smiled, “I could do pizza. What kind do you want?” he asked, pulling out his phone to place the order.

“Ohhhh no,” you replied, shaking your head, “no, no, no. I’m not falling for that one again, Doctor Reid,” you joked, “I will not have you topping shame me in my own home.”

“In your own home?” Spencer laughed, “Oh, so this is officially your home now?”

“For the next few days yes, it is,” you shot back smugly, followed by, “I’ll have whatever you’re having, but no mushrooms.”

“Since when do you hate mushrooms?”

“Since now, duh,” you replied with a shrug, “seriously though, so long as it’s warm and filling, I really don’t mind.”

“Two warm and filling pizza’s coming right up,” Spencer said, “Garcia leant me some movies to watch as well if you want.”

Joking around with you the way he always had was an equal measure of comforting and bizarre, but Spencer wasn’t going to question it. As you bickered back and forth about whether or not Legally Blonde was the best courtroom film ever made, he tried to shake off the slight sadness in his chest. It was impossible. Every time he made you laugh or saw the edges of your eyes crinkle with a smile he was reminded of that empty desk, and the hole in his chest, and the way losing you felt like losing an arm. It wasn’t your fault, you were being your usual incredible self, but that was sort of the problem. Small acts of kindness to you, like grabbing a blanket and throwing it over both of your legs without a second thought, were just that, small acts of kindness. But to Spencer they were like patches of warm sunlight when he’d been expecting cold weather. It was painful. By the time the pizza had arrived, he’d changed into pajamas and you’d convinced him to watch Legally Blonde, he thought he had it under control. Or at least under control enough that you wouldn’t notice. He was wrong.

Less than fifteen minutes into the movie you pressed pause, turning to face him on the couch with a determined look on your face.

“Okay, spill it.” You demanded, “What’s wrong?”

“What?” he asked, heat creeping into his cheeks, “I don’t-what?”

“You went somewhere,” you explained, “somewhere in your head. You only do that when something’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me, Y/N, I just-”

“Spence,” you interrupted, scooching closer and staring into his eyes pleadingly, “please don’t lie to me. I know you too well for that to work. Just tell me what’s wrong, is it me? Did I do something?”

“No.” Spencer said quickly, desperate to wipe that sad look off your face “No, Y/N/N you didn’t do anything I’m just-I’m not-” he took a deep breath in, thinking through his words, “I’m not sure...how to do this, exactly.”

You tilted your head, confused but, to his relief, didn’t shut him down.

“How to do what?” You asked sincerely, “Watch Legally Blonde? I know it’s not exactly your style but-”

“No,” he laughed softly, “no, not the movie. I don’t know how to be here, with you,” he admitted, “like this. Everytime I think I’ve got it, I remember what it was like without you and I just-” he shook his head, “I shut down. I pull away, and I don’t want to, I want to be here because you’re my friend and I care about you. It’s just that everytime I try….”

“You imagine what it’ll be like to lose me,” you supplied, sadly.

“I don’t imagine it, Y/N, I remember it.” He said, “All those years of seeing you every single day and suddenly you were just gone, and I couldn’t handle it. I kept expecting you to just walk back in one day, or that I’d wake up and the whole thing would just have been some weird fever dream, but it never did. The months just stretched on and on and on and-” he met your eye, “and now you’re back, and everything’s great again, but it’s been more than a year and, I don’t know, I guess I just don’t want to get my hopes up.”

The admission made Spencer feel lighter, like a weight had been lifted from his chest but, when he met your eye, his heart sank just a little bit. You pressed your lips together into a thin line, sniffing as you fought back tears. But they were angry tears, Spencer realised. You were sad, but you were also furious, and it made him swallow hard.

“Spencer, I don’t know how many times I can apologise,” you finally started, “I should’ve given you more warning, I shouldn’t have kept how I was feeling a secret, I know that now,” you continued, “but you didn’t lose me. Nobody lost me. I lost you. I lost my family, my job, my second home, the entire community of people I’d built up, all of it. I was alone, really alone, and starting from scratch in a city I barely recognized because I’d spent the last however many years flying around the country and completely neglecting most of the city I actually lived in. I also discovered that, outside of the BAU, I have exactly two friends, neither of whom live in the state so, at first, I spent 99% of my time just sitting in my apartment crying over what a huge terrible irreversible mistake I’d made and eating cookies.” You explained. Spencer opened his mouth to interrupt but, before he could, you shot him a pleading look, and he let you continue, “And I know it must’ve sucked, not having me around. I know you must have felt completely hurt and betrayed and confused, and I swear to you, I’m not trying to minimize that at all. All I’m trying to say is...it wasn’t easy for me. I didn’t just step out of those doors into some sunny, perfect idyllic life where all I did was bake cookies and read books. It was hard. I worked hard, and I don’t want to have to feel bad about that.”

You looked so sad in that moment that Spencer wanted to cry. He had never truly considered the implications of leaving the BAU, of how hard it must’ve been starting over when being in the FBI had always been your dream. Instinctively, he reached out and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, just so you knew he was there.

“I don’t want that either,” Spencer promised, “I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, Y/N.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes as a few stray tears slipped down your cheeks, “I know that, Spence, I do. I just-” You let out a deep breath and seemed to pull yourself together, squeezing his hand in return, “it felt like the only person who cared about me was Garcia,” you admitted, “and so, coming back, I was really scared. I didn’t quite know what I was walking into. I thought I knew, but I wasn’t sure so I just-” you shrugged, “acted like nothing had changed. And maybe that’s my fault but-”

“It’s not your fault,” he interrupted, feeling a swell of protectiveness ballooning in his chest, “none of us knew how to handle a situation like this.”

“But I should’ve considered how weird this must be for you,” you insisted, “I should’ve known that you-that you’d need more time, or more space from me than the others.”

“I don’t want space,” he said earnestly, “I promise you, Y/N, the last thing I want is to be away from you again. I’ve made that mistake once and it didn't work out too well.

You gave him a watery laugh and Spencer felt his spirit lift just a little. It was crazy how simple everything became in Spencer’s mind when you needed him, how easily he could be open and vulnerable without fear. It was you, he’d do anything for you, even bare his soul to make you laugh.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say,” You continued, “is that I’m scared. I’m so scared that, the minute this case is over, I’ll be alone again, starting from scratch, with nothing but two Murder Storefronts that no one is going to want to come within one hundred feet of, and you guys will just go on without me.”

Spencer smiled and tugged you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

“That’s not going to happen, Y/N/N,” he promised.

“How do you know?” You whispered into his hair.

“Because,” he replied honestly, “I won’t let it.”

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Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking, @must-be-a-weasley-92, @whovianayesha, @holding-on-to-my-youth, @quie-pls, @fear-less-write-more, @astraea-writes, @mac99martin, @levylovegood, @easygoingtheatre, @purpleraindrops, @eevee0722, @bisexualdisaster106, @sgold, @openheart12, @poisondragon, @martinafigoli, @ellegreenawayapologist

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bonktime · 3 years

Text

Weather The Storm

Chapter 2: Hand Over Fist

Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader (no y/n) 1861 Lighthouse au

Rated: E (just the whole story)

Previous // Masterlist // Next

Art by the incredible @honestly-shite I’m so blown away 🥰💘

Summary: Ezra settles into life in the north but he can’t seem to wrap his head around the keeper. As they dance around each other a clash with another local brings some truths into the light.

Warnings: Language, violence, a boat load of sexual tension, a bunch of victorian sexism, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort? (smut will come)

Note: Written in the 3rd person so i guess you could read as oc? but I never name or describe her, except being short. I had loads of fun writing this! Loads of descriptions of the weather because that’s who I am and also touching. Next chapter will probably be a little late but please forgive me!

Wordcount: 3630

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The wind was like nothing else. Four days at sea and Ezra was fairly sure it was making him deaf. It roared and screamed through the wood of the boat like he's never heard. Rattling anything loose and merging with the groans of the beams and the waves into a great cacophony of noise.

There was a knack to sailing in winds so strong, one he was very glad he'd got the hang of previously else he would probably have been tossed overboard that first morning. Even so the violent movement of the ship beneath him had been a surprise. Any time he put anything down he had to keep a close eye or it would end up on the other side of the room. It made sleep exceedingly difficult when being tossed out of the hammock was a possibility, so he was lucky to get a couple of hours between shifts.

The work was hard and one particularly malicious seagull had made off with a biscuit he had been about to take a bite out of, combined with the lack of sleep and the rolling waves, it had made him irritable at best down right foul at worst. Still, the rest of the crew were likable and only jibed in a good humoured way at the newcomer. And, whenever the bite of the cold got too much, he had a new memory to warm him up. Even so as they came into port on that forth morning, he was picturing that warm bed and the flickering firelight.

On the walk back along the sea something caught his eye. He stopped to pick it up.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra arrived just as the keeper was leaving the lighthouse. She saw him crossing the causeway, as the sun peeked over the horizon, turning the sky every colour from deep blue to the brightest pink. He waved at her as she waited for him to approach, unable to help but admire her. Dressed in blue, she contrasted against the sky and its reflection in the water. She positively shone. As he got close, he smiled.

"It would appear I was wilfully incorrect about something"

"About what?" She cocked her head at him

"There is colour here. But to witness it you must have patience. "

He took a step closer. holding out his hand "I discovered this on my meander back to your charming abode, I believe you would appreciate it." In her hand he gently placed a chunk of sea glass, worn soft by the sands but still bright deep blue. He stayed close as she held it up to let the sun shine through. She could smell the sea on him, salty and something else. Looking up at him she wondered why he had been so thoughtful. "It's beautiful, thank you" he smiled at her, eyes creasing warmly.

⧫⧫⧫

A week passed and they talked in the mornings but their days never seemed to line up so they could only see each other for meals. Ezra spent his evenings in the living room, reading by the fire whenever he was home, and his mornings wandering the coast to distract himself from the woman in the water.

Once on his walk he met the other keeper. The man had looked exhausted as if he was carrying a weight on his shoulders. He didn't say much, just to give his thanks to the other keeper and then he'd hurried away.

Further down the shoreline he liked to watch the market get set up. Watch the women waiting for the fishing boats to get in, preparing to gut and fillet and sell. He chatted to them sometimes, offering a hand carrying out the tables if they needed it. One girl always gave him a cup of tea after, laughing at his jokes and smiling. She was pretty and definitely would have caught his eye before. But now? He was friendly enough, and polite, but just couldn't work out why he was so uninterested. It wasn't like him. She made a nice friend though, and it was pleasant to get to know someone apart from the keeper even if he wasn't staying too long. And even if he didn't know the keeper all that well.

Ezra mentioned a woman he met at the fishery to the keeper. As much as she knew and liked her, it stung in a way the keeper couldn't quite identify. She was kind and soft and pretty and just the opposite of her. All of her hard edges and bitterness and isolation. But she didn't have any good cause or right to feel envious. Still, she thanked him for the warning, should she come across them together at least she wouldn’t be surprised.

⧫⧫⧫

There was another week of only seeing each other in the wee hours before both Ezra and the keeper had a shared day off.

He offered to come with her into town and help carry things. Mostly he just wanted her to show him around which she knew but she agreed anyway.

The sun showed itself as they walked together warming their skin. He watched the keeper raise her head to bask in it, smiling as she tried to explain what she needed from town with him interrupting after every item to ask questions.

She was glowing and it was starting to affect Ezra. Her skirt was pinned up a little above her ankles so it didn't dip in the sand and she'd forgone her usual headscarf and shawl to enjoy the sun. She had laughed at him as they'd left, at all his layers, called him a southern pansy. He'd grinned "Not everyone is so accustomed to this frigid weather. The cold bites those who it has not made an acquaintance with. Not unlike a wary dog."

"If you stayed a few winters here and swam in the North Sea you'd end up as hardy as any of us I reckon" he'd just smirked.

⧫⧫⧫

The keeper decided Ezra spoke just the way he did just to confuse people. Every time she’d asked him what a word meant he had grinned, but he did explain without condescension. He had spent nearly an hour chatting away to the grocer when she’d gone to the butcher and the baker. Upon asking, it turned out he had been trying to find a fruit he was fond of, but all the frills in his speech had led to a debate between the owners about what he had meant which he had then stayed quiet during just for enjoyment. When she had gone back to find him he was grinning ear to ear as the two men bickered. She had suppressed a laugh and sorted it out quickly before they had gotten even more irked by the outsider. Ezra had seen the laugh in her eyes though.

The final stop was the bookshop. A small place, stacked floor to ceiling and owned by the keeper’s oldest friend. She was sitting outside in the sun and jumped up wrapping the keeper in a warm hug.

"Lass you work too fucking hard. I haven't seen hide nor hair of you in Christ knows how long!"

She grinned; the first time Ezra had seen it. He should make her grin more.

"Aye I'm starting to agree, how're the bairns at this rate they'll have grown a foot before I can see them again. Oh, shit sorry.” She gestured to him “This is my lodger Ezra, Ezra this is Amelia."

He wonders vaguely if everyone the keeper knows can give looks that pierce the soul. He gives the shopkeeper a nod and her face breaks into a smile. As they headed into the shop, clouds began to gather overhead.

"Come on pet, I've got something new I just know you'll love."

The shop seemed ready to burst at the seams. Ezra paroused but couldn’t stop himself listening into their conversation.

“How have you been, really? I worry about you all alone up there.” Amelia asked her eyes full of concern. Ezra subtly rounded a bookshelf so he wouldn’t seem nosey.

“I… Well I’ve been worse like. Every day is easier and I’m not alone at the moment as you’ve seen.”

“You seem to collect sailors, you.”

The keeper laughed “I just like the company! And I like being alone the rest of the time as you well know.”

“Oh aye the company. Nothing to do with,” Amelia lowered her voice “I divn’t nah… the roguishly good looks? You always loved a bit of trouble, dafty that you are”

“Hey! He just rents the room, we’re… friends I guess.” Ezra wished he could see her to gage how she really felt.

“Sure you pet.”

⧫⧫⧫

20 minutes later they left, a copy of Great Expectations wrapped carefully in tissue paper and stowed at the bottom of her bag, surrounded so it would stay dry should it rain. As they stepped out a woman seized the keeper's arm, she was accompanied by the vicar and glaring viciously. The keeper swallowed and introduced Ezra, he saw how uncomfortable she was, how her mood had changed since just minutes before.

"The ever elusive keeper shows herself yet again" the vicar speaks, face impassive, "I thought you might have died since you don't attend church, perhaps you'd met god's reckoning after… being so loose with your commitments."

Ezra watches her jaw clench "I have told you before, when I work the night, I cannot attend in the morning."

The other women smirked "Work the night is one way of putting it." She eyed Ezra.

The vicar sighed "It is disappointing you disobey god's will. Your father should have married you off while he had the chance. Then your husband would keep you in line. If he could see you now, he'd be so ashamed"

Ezra froze but before he could react, he saw the rage pass over her face, fiery and passionate. She couldn't help it, she saw red, couldn't stop herself. She punched the vicar square on the nose.

The other woman shrieked. "What is wrong with you? You've hurt him!" Indeed, blood did start to drip out of his nose but he straightened himself up and grabbed the keepers arm pulling her close and raising his fist to strike.

"You're nothing but a worthless little whore. It's no wonder your sailor left as soon as you-" he was cut off by Ezra's fist, catching his jaw and sending him sprawling.

"I will not abide you speaking to the lady in this manner." He shook out his hand, and stepped over him, bending to seize his hair and pressing his blade to his neck "And to strike her?" He scowled down at the man who was opening and shutting his mouth like a fish. "What is that mantra you holy men spout? Turn the other cheek." The keeper's jaw dropped, she had known Ezra was rough around the edges but to strike a man of God, to threaten him, for her?

Against the incoming storm, it was as if he'd grown. Become huge and monstrous and brutal in a way she hadn't seen, a glimpse of what lay beneath all his beautiful words and pleasant disposition. It moved something in the keeper, something dangerous. Not many people would far defend her, let alone in such a way.

Lightning flashed overhead forking down to meet the sea, in the light she could see the hard glint in his eye, the one he'd worn when they'd first met, even as he smiled. This was a man who had done far worse and all she could feel was grateful. It squeezed around her heart.

"I suspected as much. You must have forgotten yourself for a moment." Ezra stood and pulled the vicar to his feet, squeezing his arm harshly still baring that viscous grin as he pulled him close and murmured "I'd truly hate for you to suffer another grievous lapse in judgement, who knows what may become of you."

The keeper looked at the other woman "Judge not lest ye be judged? You had better pray for forgiveness.” She stepped forwards shoulders back as thunder rumbled around them “There's a storm coming and your husband works the water. I'd hate for the lord to compel me to make an error." The woman gasped at her a cold glare. Ezra looked at the keeper as she straightened out her dress. He could have laughed at her nonchalance, it gave him pause, how he saw her quiet power. She would make quite the foe. She gave Ezra a nod and he took her arm as they walked away.

He can feel how tense she was through her arm, despite her calm demeanour panic and anxiety were coming off her in waves. They walked back along the beach in silence as the heavens opened, pouring rain down around them. Ezra frowned to himself, perhaps with all the flitting around he had forgotten how to behave. Had lost some of himself, every old sin chipping away at his humanity was taking its toll. He'd come here for some fucking quiet, why did he always find trouble, or make it? Perhaps those years… he wasn't good. Punching a priest though? The keeper was a menace.

Half way he stopped turning her to look at him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were married?" she looked away from him at the waves. White horses were being blown, throwing spray up into the air.

"I never was. He left before we could."

The rain beating down made it hard to look up at him, it dripped into her eyes and ran down her face like tears. The rain and thunder were near deafening as he looked at her face, saw the pain and the other emotion, the one he can't identify.

"What happened?" He nearly has to shout to be heard over the storm and the waves. Reaching for her, taking her hand and feeling the calluses on her fingers.

"What always happens! I fell in love, and I thought he did too. But after, after we. He did what sailors always do." she threw off his hand and stepped back, the sea lapping at her ankles.

"What is it sailors always do? I do not appreciate you painting us all with such broad strokes." Now he's shouting, a bit out of frustration but mostly to be heard as the wind begins to howl, merging sea spray and rain until the only thing he could see was her.

"He sailed away!" She was suddenly very grateful for the rain; he couldn't see the tears that had rolled down her face. He frowned at her a deep furrow in his brow. "And so, he's right! I am a whore and probably everything else too." She looked wild, wind whipping her skirt to and fro. She glared at him, daring him to judge her. "I was relieved! I didn't want to marry him, he wanted to leave and I didn't. I enjoyed what we did!" She pressed her palm to her forehead. No idea how he would react. "He could’ve said goodbye" she whispered it, let the crash of the waves muffle the sound.

To her surprise he tugged her hand away from her face, looking into her eyes, jaw set, rain plastering his hair to his head.

"Let's go home."

Keeping her hand gently clasped in his he led her along the beach to the island.

⧫⧫⧫

Both of them were soaked to the bone by the time they had re-entered the cottage. Ezra could feel the keepers hand trembling in his.

"Go change out of that wet garb, I'll light the blaze in the living room and set the water to boil"

She nodded and entered her room as he did his own. He quickly pulled off his wet clothes and tugged on a fresh shirt surprised to hear her call out to him.

"Ezra, can you help me?"

He entered her room slowly, still only in his long shirt, taking it in. The bed was wide enough for two and had as many blankets as his own, there was a small wardrobe and a chest and a stack of books on a bedside table. On top of which he saw the glass he'd given her, not yet added to the chime in the window.

She was in her corset and chemise, back to him, dripping onto the rag-rug on the floor.

"I can't seem to," she was reaching behind herself. "With it wet and my damn swollen knuckles I can't loosen the tie. Please, can you help?"

He swallowed thickly as she looked back at him then away. Gently he reached for her, big hands and nimble fingers beginning to loosen the knot. "I'll take a look at that hand if you would allow me, check you haven't done any tangible damage." She nodded.

As he finished, he couldn't help brushing his fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder. It was soft and warm under his cold fingers. She stiffened slightly and turned to him, looking up at his face. His frown remained but that steely glint was gone, giving way to wide sad eyes. She looked at his hands, big, strong and bruised. She took one in her own, inspecting the cut across his knuckles.

"You needn't hurt yourself in defence of me, I shouldn't have hit him." She gently rubbed her thumb over the swelling to check her hadn't dislocated anything and tried to ignore how he tensed.

"I could not abide his hurting you, not with his words and certainly not with his fist" he turned her hand mirroring her gesture to feel her knuckles, they were swollen but nothing felt out of place. He kept a hold of her hand as he looked back up at her face.

She looked into his eyes, deep and dark enough to fall into. They stared back into hers without hesitation. She held his hand for just a moment longer before letting go. As she did, he turned and left, closing the door gently behind him.

He didn't give her the chance to thank him.

⧫⧫⧫

When she had dressed and headed down stairs, Ezra was pouring tea, he looked up. She was still dishevelled and shivering a little.

"Come on, let's get warmed up"

He led her through to the living room and sat her down on the rug in front of the fire handing her a cup of tea. Sitting down across from her he spoke, his legs brushed hers as he stretched out but he didn’t move away.

"What I cannot apprehend is why you don't want to depart this glacial place. You are not treated compassionately and there are locations all over with preferable climates."

She gave a small smile. "Because I like it here, it isn't perfect but I have my friends and my work and my home and where would I go? How well do you think the world would treat a woman like me?"

He shrugged, "People may surprise you. They have me on many occasions. I even astonish myself sometimes"

"Or they'll behave exactly as they always do. People are predictable like that." She sighed and sipped her tea. The warmth of the fire finally took an effect. "It seems we are at an imbalance. You know plenty about me, although not because I wanted you to. How about you tell me where you got that accent?"

He grinned. "I suppose I can reveal a little information. If only for the sake of equality."

So, he told her. Told her about his home, his mother, about when she passed. How he had to work to survive and found that he didn't get seasick. He picked up words and dialect wherever he went, combining them with his own until he wasn't sure what he used to sound like. She had laughed at him upon learning he wasn't a strong swimmer.

"I can't believe you haven't been thrown overboard and drowned yet! You're unbelievably lucky!" He'd loved the sound.

He missed out a lot of the more unsavoury details of the work he’d done but the whitewashed version was honest enough. How going back to where he grew up still hurt, he had only visited once. Instead, he travelled, worked, and enjoyed himself.

"I don't know. You said I must be lonely here but you, you travel alone. You can't make good friends, you've no home to return to." She watched his face. "It seems you're far more alone than I am"

His brow furrowed "We can agree to disagree on that."

"And I still don't understand why you're here. Why aren't you somewhere warm?"

He shrugged and avoided the question, "If I wasn't, I would not have had the astounding pleasure of meeting you."

She frowned at how he ignored her question, but brushed it off.

The rain was finally beginning to ease as Ezra dozed off. Sitting on the floor slumped against the chair by the fire. He looked peaceful, no shadows playing behind his eyes, so she didn't wake him. Instead as the sun dipped, she laid a blanket over him and went to light the light.

The winds had made for a tense shift. Always keeping a weather eye on the sea for ships that might have got into trouble but eventually the sun rose and she stopped the clockwork and went back to the cottage.

Ezra had already left to get to The Mistress and she was surprised at the slight sting that they hadn't got to say goodbye. Next time she'll wake him.

She was even more surprised by how much she missed his company.

~~~~~~~~

Glossary

Hand over fist: Going forth rapidly in an endeavour, comes from ‘hand over hand’ when climbing the rigging.

Bairns: Kids, affectionate

Divn’t nah: Don’t know, couldn’t not include this

Dafty: fool, idiot, affectionate

~~~~~~~~

Taglist

Ezra

@fandom-blackhole

WTS

@something-tofightfor

Because I crave validation

@danniburgh

#weather the storm #ezra prospect #ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect 2018 #prospect 2018 #ezra prospect fanfiction #prospect fanfiction #ezra x oc

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fancyfearful · 3 years

Text

(Happy International Women’s Day/Women’s History Month, y’all! Please enjoy some quality fun time with a true girlboss.)

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WARNING/DISCLAIMER: Mature/Explicit themes, and ‘potential simp behavior’ are in this fic. Celia is a queen, idc.

Word Count: 2,042

(Edit: I forgot to tag @gatobob , who owns this character, whoops!)

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You were scared at first.

After all, you had gone from being naked and terrified in a dimly lit showroom, to waking up several hours later in a rundown, abandoned office building located far away from your home. A pair of handcuffs kept your wrists bound behind your back, but whomever kidnapped you had been 'generous' enough to dress you in semi-casual office clothes, though they were a bit too loose on your body.

The only thing you knew was that the person responsible for bringing you here had the voice of a matured woman. However, the sound of sharp heels clicking against the ground warned you of their arrival, seconds before she entered the small breakroom where you were being kept.

Upon meeting the well-dressed, businesswoman for the first time, you learned a few things. Her name was Celia and she was noticeably taller than the average woman, even with her heels on. But if looks could kill, then the mocha-colored eyes that looked over your body would've ended your life in seconds. You weren't sure if she was tired, irritated or both but regardless, Celia staring at your body made you feel uncomfortable.

During her 'introduction', Celia informed you that your new purpose in life was to be her personal stress reliever, and that resistance of any kind was unacceptable, including trying to escape. She also pointed out something you had somehow missed earlier; an ankle bracelet attached to your leg. With a knowing smirk, Celia informed you that it came with a built in GPS to make sure that you wouldn't be able to leave without her knowledge. The brunette before you also mentioned something about several other 'secrets' that you'd find out about later, which did nothing to calm your nerves as she casually reached into the hidden pocket on her overshirt.

Celia pulled out a thin, bright red dog collar, dangling it between her fingers before making her way over to fasten it around your neck. She had made it a little too tight on purpose, and when she stepped back to see how it looked, the brunette couldn’t help but scoff.

“There, now you look like the dog you are. I hope for your sake you’ll be easier to train than the last one. It’d be a shame if I had to put down another pet…” Celia warned, dropping her voice to emphasize her point.

“Now, how about we teach you some new tricks?”

*****

The next few days had gone by faster than you expected, thanks to Celia’s rigorous training.

Most of your time was spent acting as living footrest or chair, while she took her sweet time reading through and answering important, work-related emails. If Celia had a good workday, you’d play games like fetch, where she’d reward you with cookies shaped like dog biscuits if you did well. But if you didn’t retrieve an item fast enough, your cruel captor would deliver punishment by whipping your back and torso with her chain flogger. And on bad workdays, you’d be subjected to a game of ‘cat and mouse’, where Celia gave you a few seconds to hide before hunting you down; if you were found in six minutes or less, she would beat you to the point of bruising with the nearest blunt object in the room. The stapler was quickly becoming one of her favourites items to carry around, and even a good workday couldn’t save you from whenever Celia felt the urge to watch you squirm. Her eyes practically lit up whenever she subjected you to several new piercings on your arms or legs, a high only the most forbidden of drugs could provide.

But today—or night, you couldn’t exactly tell what time of day it was down here—was different.

The familiar, yet haunting, sound of heels clacking along the ground was replaced by something that sounded firmer, and heavier in comparison. And for the first time since your arrival, you were worried that someone or something even worse than Celia would find you here.

However, seeing the familiar face of Celia suddenly appear in the doorway of the shabby office that had become your bedroom was bittersweet. But instead of her usual business attire, she donned a skin-tight, black body suit with thigh-high stockings, and her trademark red heels were replaced with thick, black wedges. Sure, you had noticed her figure from time to time, but the sudden style change made it even harder to look away. Instead, you tried to focus on the medium sized bag she was holding in her left hand.

“Ah, there’s my favourite dog. You look surprised to see me.” Celia says, making her way into the room before plopping herself down onto the desk nearby.

Her tone sounded lower than usual, and the end of her words were a bit slurred. If you had to guess, she had probably had a few drinks before coming here, something that wasn’t uncommon. Whenever it happened, Celia was a bit of a wildcard. She motioned for you to come closer, making you gulp nervously as she reached into her bag to retrieve a long chain with a clasp at the end. Sheepishly, you avoid eye contact while Celia attaches it to the collar around your neck, grinning proudly before she roughly tugs on your new leash.

“Now you’re really starting to look like a proper pet!” she comments, only to pat your head in a condescending manner. “And so well behaved too, isn’t that right?”

You nod slowly, feeling your cheeks burn in shame. This wasn’t right. Her backhanded compliments shouldn’t have affected you like this, but these moments with Celia were the only times you could interact with another living being. It was better than trying to keep a stray pill bug for company again, only for it to end up escaping.

“You should be grateful, you know. I turned you into something useful, something with value…” Celia adds, keeping one hand on your chain while the other tightly cupped your chin. “I saved you from being someone’s pathetic plaything. And yet I still have to tell you when to say ‘thank you’. How is that fair to me? Shouldn’t you know better by now?”

You nodded again, only to be struck across the face with a harsh slap. “Answer me!” Celia snarled, her face scrunched up in annoyance. She was losing her patience, and that was the last thing you wanted her to do.

“Y-Yes, miss Celia. I’m sorry for not knowing better.” You replied. “Thank you for giving me value.”

“Good! See, that’s what I like about you. You’re a quick learner, but there’s still something I’ve got to put to the test.” The brunette murmured, letting go of your chin before she pointed to the floor. “On your knees, pet. Let’s see if that face is as comfortable as it looks.”

You were visibly confused as you tried to process her request. Did she mean what you thought she meant, or--?

“Are you deaf? Because I’m pretty sure I just gave you a task to complete. And if you can’t do it, then I’ll replace you with someone who can...” Celia commanded, her voice booming and steady. It was the kind of tone that could melt you within seconds or break you without warning.

As quickly as you could, you dropped to your knees, trying to the ignore the dull ache that came with having them hit the floor too hard. Celia wound the excess length of your chain around her hand a few times, before yanking you towards the space between her parted legs. A muffled grunt escaped you as Celia’s legs wrapped around your neck and shoulders, keeping your face pinned against the smooth leather of her body suit while she kept an iron grip around your chain. The sweet scent of a strong smelling body spray invaded your nose, and although you wouldn’t admit it out loud, the fragrance was alluring.

“Well, pet? I’m waiting. Show me how grateful you are to be here.”

It was at that moment that you started to think she was right. Not because you didn’t miss your old life, or your freedom but because in a weird, twisted way, serving Celia gave you a purpose. And all things considered, your kidnapper could’ve been much worse; she kept you fed, clothed, and even though the building was falling apart, it still provided shelter from the elements.

And with this in mind, you started to kiss along her inner thighs, turning your face and neck as much as Celia’s grip would allow. She wiggled a little, smirking as she watched her current pet creep closer and closer towards one of her most sensitive areas, making the brunette smirk deviously.

With a shaky sigh, Celia pressed her hips forward, testing the waters of her new toy by lightly grinding her crotch against your face. The combination of your tightened collar, Celia’s thighs, and the added pressure of that damned leash was making it difficult to breathe, but Celia didn’t care about your declining oxygen supply. If anything, your struggling only made her legs clench even tighter, and you could barely make out the twisted pleasure on her face as she slowly tried to suffocate you, her eyes twinkling in delight while she leaned back a little.

Your tongue pressed itself up against the thin fabric covering over her body suit, earning an unexpected moan from your mistress before you closing any distance that remained between you two. Any other time, Celia would have punished you for touching her without permission, but in the heat of the moment, your hands wrapped themselves around her thighs, digging your nails into her stocking as your mouth worked to pleasure her as best as you could.

Paying attention to the sounds she made was paying off, making it a little easier to find her sweet spots, but you didn’t dare to move the dampened leather covering over her opening. Not without her say, at least.

But the loud moans and high pitched whines coming from your captor were enough to awaken something in you as well; a small part of Celia was at your mercy, and this was a chance you couldn’t pass up. And so, you doubled down on your efforts, licking, kissing, suckling, and nibbling on every ounce of flesh and fabric between Celia’s warm, plush thighs, using your tongue to express the gratitude that she craved.

Eventually, your efforts paid off in the form of a loud, breathy moan from Celia as she shuddered, clenching her legs around you so tight that your vision went black for a second or two. The bottom of her body suit was absolutely soaked with a mixture of her own juices, your saliva, and a bit of sweat between you both, yet the pleased chuckle Celia let out calmed your nerves. She only made that sound when something good happened.

“…Ooh…Haven’t done something like in ages…” she sighed as she relaxed her grip.

You were able to catch a glimpse of her face, her cheeks tinted bright red as she moved lose strands of hair away from her eyes. The firm, hardened expression typically worn by Celia had been temporarily replaced with a softer, more inviting expression. If it didn’t put you at risk to get kicked, you might even have kissed her. Nothing serious, as it just would have a quick peck on those plump, dark colored lips.

“Don’t look so lovestruck, dog. Just because I had a few drinks before showing up and felt like trying something new doesn’t mean that you’re walking out of here anytime soon. You’re mine for as long as I want you to be.” Celia huffed, yanking on the chain to remind you of your place. And with a sheepish smile, you nodded.

“Yes, miss Celia. Of course. Thank you.”

How you ended up in her possession was irrelevant. It didn't matter.

What did matter, was your value. Your worth. It was about what you could do for Celia, not the other way around. It was about acknowledging your rightful place under the command of a superior entity, and that entity was her.

#tpof #the price of flesh #gatobob #Celia Lede #celia tpof #Celia #Celia being a girlboss? We LOVE to see it!

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bbykpoper · 4 years

Photo

𝓡𝓪𝓼𝓹𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 🌧️

Inspired by this post 🌼

Pairing: petshopworker!hongjoong x bookshopowner!reader

Index: Jongho // Seonghwa // San // Yunho // Wooyoung // Mingi // Yeosang

･*:༅｡

It was another gloomy day outside your little shop as you sighed in content observing the clouds outside with a smile. The inside of your bookstore was quiant with antique sofas and armchairs to add some spice to the space. The strong aroma of Jasmine filled your space by the windows as you sat with your tea cup and observed the outside. A smile graced your delicate features as you saw your best friend waving at you through her shop window which was loacted right across the street.

It wasn’t long after that she come over to join you on her break.

“You’re covered in cat fur again.” You giggled observing her apron littered with various coloured fur.

“Yeah, we had a few adoptions today.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You could have come over and looked around.”

“You know I don’t need a pet.” You snorted, sipping your tea.

“I meant to come over and stare at Hongjoong.” She slyly smiled.

You punched her shoulder with a gasp, laughing along with her. She had recently hired a young man by the name of Hongjoong who had caught your eye, but you didn’t exactly have the social skills to introduce yourself let alone talk to him.

“When are you going to stop by my shop so I can introduce you?” Your friend pouted. “I’ve seen him sometimes glancing out to look at you when you water your flowers outside.”

“Sure, and the parrot on your window display likes to screech at him to announce my appearance outside.” You sarcastically retorted.

“How did you know?”

You rolled your eyes and munched on the pastries she had brought along, totally ignoring that comment.

“By the way, when I close this evening you want to join me on my adventure of picking up a cake for Joonie?” She asked. “He also wants to see you. He’s been missing his favourite aunty.”

Joonie was your best friend’s son and you’ve practically raised him along with her. She got pregnant at 19 and it wasn’t easy for her seeing as the bastard that knocked her up bailed the minute she peed on the pregnancy test. It was always a joy to visit her and her son, seeing that wide smile he showed you.

“Sure, are we going by Sugarberry’s?”

“Of course! He keeps asking for their famous sugarberry cake.” Your friend sighed.

“I’ll close up early and come over.” You smiled.

“Awesome!” Your friend looked at her wrist watch and let out a sigh. “I need to get going, my break is over.”

With a wave she left you to clean up the table and go back to organising the books which came in the other day. Unbeknownst to you, your friend was talking with a red-haired young man, smirking as she kept glancing in the direction of your store.

･*:༅｡

7 p.m. rolled by and you entered the pet shop across the street, the ding above her head lazily making a sound as it hit the door. The parrot in the window display screeched in panic more so than other times but you didn’t pay much attention to it. You were used to that bird and it’s exesive reactions.

Nobody was at the front so you decided to venture towards the back where they usually kept the insects and reptiles. You passed by the puppies who were eagerly barking at you, a smile thrown towards them. You stopped when you reached the glass cages with the kittens, noticing how most were empty.

“Mew...” A soft mewl drew your attention and you frowned.

“You’re still here...” You sighed, gently petting the dirty grey cat through the small ventilation holes of her cage. “Why doesn’t anybody want you little one?”

“It’s more like she doesn’t want anybody.” A voice made you jump in fright as you whipped around to face it. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay...” Your shy smile peeked itself from your averted gaze.

“Miss atitude here bit the small boy who took a liking to her and his mom decided it’d be best if they got a puppy.” The man walked up to you, also trying to pet the cat but ending up getting bitten. “It seems she doesn’t exactly like me either.”

“That’s not true.” You looked back to the cat. “She bit me multiple times before I earned her trust.”

The man looked over at you taking in your appearance. He was surprised that he had this chance to look at you so closely, seeing that you had freckles gracing your cheeks and a cute naturally red nose. You then suddenly turned to look at him and his cheeks suddenly flared up at the sudden eye contact. You now had the chance to notice how his brown eyes shied away from yours, how his hair seemed to be longer in the back and how his smile lit up the entire room.

“I’m Hongjoong by the way.” He introduced himself.

“y/n...” You breathed out, cursing your friend in the back of your mind.

She set you up.

“Is Lia here?” You asked.

“Yeah, she’s getting changed. She’ll be out any minute.” He said and his words were followed by an awkward silence. “So, ever thought about adopting an animal?”

“Lia’s been on my case since forever.” You giggled and filled his heart with so much warmth with just that one sound. “But I really don’t think I can take care of an animal.” Your eyes went back up to the cat. “I also don’t want to get attached to something I can easily loose.”

Those words puzzled Hongjoong and he was just about to ask what you meant by that, but Lia came out a smile on her face and gaze sparkling with mischief.

“You ready to go?” Lia asked and you nodded following her out.

“It was nice meeting you.” You waved at the man.

“You too.” He waved back.

The minute you stepped out the soft expression on your face turned into an unamused one, glare steady on Lia’s form. She shrugged her shoulders with a giggle and stuck her tongue out.

“You’re the devil you know that.”

“I’ve been called worse.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll buy you a piece of that raspberry cake you liked so much to atone for my sins.”

“Damn well you will.”

･*:༅｡

A few days had passed by from your meeting with Hongjoong and you had been enjoying the quiet of your shop as you just sat back and read. The bell above the shop’s door jingled with mirth as the rain drops hit themselves against the long metal pieces. You raised your gaze as you marker where you had stopped in the passage only to be surprised by the customer at hand.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You commented with a smile.

“I thought I’d stop by and say hello.” Hongjoong smiled back. “I also need a book for a friend’s birthday so Lila advised me to come here.”

“Of course she did.” You looked passed him and into the window display of the pet shop where Lia was holding up both her thumbs in encouragement. “What kind of book are you looking for?”

“Poetry.” He shrugged his shoulders. “He’s been getting into romance poetry quite a bit after he had met this girl and well, it’s ‘inspiring’ as he said.”

“Poetry huh?” You hummed and looked up to the second floor of your shop, a thoughtful finger on your chin. Something which made Hongjoong swoon over you on the inside. “I think I have something. Come on.”

With a smile you led him up the steps and deeper into the shop, stopping in front of one of the book cases. Hongjoong noticed a few students loitering around, heads deep in their books. He even noticed Jongho’s girlfriend with her friends as they furiously went over book after book, her small wave making him wave back. You noticed the exchange of greeting and raised an eyebrow at how he knew a student from the local university but said nothing. You weren’t the type to pry.

“Hold on a second, I’ll get the book.” You said as you pulled over the ladder from the corner, the wheels on it almost soundless.

You climbed up the steps and Hongjoong averted his gaze in embarrassment, not daring to look up. The mocking snort he got from Jongho’s girlfriend was not helping his case! Your hand reached the grey book, swiftly pulling it out and slidding down the ladder. You handed the book to Hongjoong and he raised his eyebrows in wonder.

“Love her wild by Atticus?” He asked.

“It’s a collection of everyday life poems.” You said. “It’s the little things that count Hongjoong.”

He nodded at your words as you made your way back down to the counter so he could pay for it.

“Do a lot of students come here?” He suddenly asked.

“Yup. It’s more quiet than their campus library and sometimes they find books which can’t be found in the library. My grandma used to have this policy to let the students come by and study always offering them tea and biscuits. I took over that policy and enjoy their sheepish reactions when I ask them what tea they’d like today.” Your giggle echoed down the stairs. “Would like me to wrap the book so you don’t have to?”

“That’d be awesome.” He smiled wide as you took the book from him. “So you inherited the shop from your grandma?”

“Yes.” You answered. “She died last year and left it to me. It was hard at first but I think I got the hang of it.” Sadness was evident in your voice.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He spoke softly. “I think you are doing an excelent job here.”

“Thanks.” You handed him the book just as he handed you the money. He turned to leave but stopped suddenly, looking back at you. “Hey, would you like to grab some coffee after you close the store today?”

“Don’t you have a birthday to go to?” You asked a deep blush coating your cheeks.

“I can be a little late.” Hongjoong chuckled.

“Alright.” You smiled. “I’d love to.”

“Great, I’ll come pick you up when you close.” He said and left.

You sat back and looked after him as he entered the pet shop and went past Lia who seemed to want to know what happened. When he dismissed her with a laugh she looked over to you and you stuck your tongue out at her, shock coating her facial features.

It wasn’s so long before your shop’s closing time came round and only a few students were left as they packed up their things and headed for the door. The girl that greeted Hongjoong earlier today stayed back and helped you clean off the tea cups and plates of biscuits, choosing to speak to you a bit.

“Miss y/n?” You turned around to face her with a questioning look in your eyes. “Hongjoong is a really nice man and you should definitely give him a chance.”

“What?” You blushed furiously when she said that.

“I’m dating one of his friends and he hasn’t exactly been subtle by the crush he has on you.” She giggled. “But seriously, you two would fit each other well.”

She left the store and you stood there a few minutes with a shocked expression on your face. It seemed the feelings were mutual between you two but something about that scared you. You looked up at the clock and noticed it was a minute to seven so without further thinking you shut off all the lights and stepped out, locking the door behind you.

“Are you ready?” Hongjoong ran towards you and asked with excitement in his voice.

You turned around and were surprised by the small rose he held out for you. You nodded eagerly as you walked next to him, filling the air with little chatter about your day today. You made your way towards Sugarberry’s and took a seat outside just as the waitress came by.

“Hey Joong, fancy seeing you here.” She teased him. “What can I get you two?”

“I’ll have my a mazagran. I need to prepare for Seonghwa’s birthday.” He sighed and nodded his head when the waitress laughed.

“Jesus, you and Mingi seem to be the only ones thinking ahead.” She commented and then looked over at you. “And what about your pretty date?”

“D-Date?” You blushed at those words. You weren’t dense and figured this was some type of date, but when she said it like that it made your chest do flips. “I’d like a black coffe and a piece of raspberry cake.”

“Sure thing.” She said and went inside.

“You like raspberries?”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite fruit. If I could I’d mix them in everything I eat or drink.” You laughed. “Did you know that Serbia is the main distributor for raspberries around the world? I’d really like to visit there sometime to see those fields for myself.”

“I didn’t know that. It sounds nice.” He smiled at your enthusiasm.

The waitress came back with your order and exchanged a few more words with Hongjoong before she left inside again.

“You seem to know a lot of people.” You commented on your observation.

“I guess. My friend owns this bakery slash caffe. I know all the staff here.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ll be right back.” His eyes travelled behind you and spotted something.

You as well turned back to look at what he was and you noticed a blue haired man. He went over and greeted him and they began talking about something. You didn’t even notice the waitress had come out and stopped beside you to observe as well.

“You know, he’s a nice guy. A bit clumsy but nice. He treats his friends as if they were his kids but will never admit it.” She startled you but you quickly recovered.

“Yeah, you’re the second person to have told me that today.” You sighed. “I’d like to give him a chance but I’m scared of doing so. I’m scared he’ll disappear just like everybody around me seems to be.”

“You know, it’s still too early for you to see that. Maybe this time it will be different. You never know until you try.” She shrugged her shoulders at you.

“But what if I just want to shelter myself from the inevitable?” Your eyes met for a second. “The fear in me keeps telling me to run while I can, but my instinct keeps telling me to trust him. I’m just so confused.”

“Maybe you should tell him about your fear?” She suggested. “He is a man with a lot of understanding and patience. I’ve seen him trying to befriend a stray for months without even the slightest ounce of giving up. If you’re honest about trying to date him, you should confide in him.” She smiled at you warmly as she noticed Hongjoong coming back. “You never know.”

The man looked weirdly after the waitress as she skipped back inside, taking his seat at the table you two were at.

“Did she say anything weird?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “Did she tell you the story about me and Mingi drunkenly sweeping the floors?”

“No.” You laughed. “But do tell.”

You had taken into consideration what she had said and let yourself ponder the thought later. Right now you just really wanted to enjoy the time spent with him and listen to his embarrassing stories.

･*:༅｡

You and Hongjoong kept seeing each other for the next month on a regular basis, him always coming over on breaks just like Lia and you two going out on dates on the weekends.

But this weekend it was different.

This weekend was girls night and you and Lia had agreed to go out to a wine tasting in the local brewery. Both needed to relax and talk seeing as they were too busy with life, and it was pure luck Joonie had went over to his grandparent’s house so LIa could stay out until late. You both dressed up and sat comfortably at a table, two glasses of wine shinning under the candle light.

“I didn’t think you had it in you to dress up again Lia.” You snorted out a laugh.

“Please, if it weren’t for you I would never even have dresses to go out.” She rolled her eyes. “But I see you’ve been shopping lately. Getting all pretty for the new boyfriend?”

“We haven’t actually labelled our... thing.” You blushed looking down at your dirty white silk cocktail dress. “I mean, I guess we’re dating but I’m not sure.” You looked at your glass. “I’m scared to ask.”

“Are you scared to ask because knowing the fact that you are it would mean attaching yourself to him?” Lia knew about your problem and anxieties. She was with you through it all, just as you had been with her.

“That’s the thing, I already AM attached to him...” The shaking of your voice made Lia sigh.

“Then maybe it’s time you talked to him. About everything.” She was serious and her voice was demanding. “It’s time you told him about your grandma. About your parents. And about the lack of men in your life.”

“I can’t just throw my baggage at him...” You squeaked out. “He’ll run away from me and I’ll be left to blame myself. Again.”

“No he wont.” Lia grabbed your hands. “Listen to me y/n, he is different. You saw that, I saw that. He will listen. And he will stay.”

The way Lia had worded this made you realise just what she meant.

“But I’m a coward Lia.” You stated with fear in your eyes.

“Not after a bottle of wine you’re not.”

･*:༅｡

Hongjoong sat at home enjoying his Friday night with a glass of his favorite whiskey in one hand and a book recommended by you in the other. The rain poured outside and he sighed knowing that those dark clouds finally let out their anger on the world. He smiled at the childish poems written in the margins of the book as he read them over and over again, imagining just what kind of person you were back in highschool. As he flipped the pages he came across one in particular, that seemed to be written in red ink, standing out from the rest of them which were in black.

As he finished reading over it a text message came from you.

y/n🥰[11.43 p.m.] what’s your address?

With a raised eyebrow he answered your message not really thinking anything of it until 20 minutes later a soft knock came at his door. He placed his drink and book on the table and went over, thinking one of the boys had forgotten something at his place or perhaps got drunk and ended up here, but when he opened the door to a rosy cheeked you in all your silk glory he chocked back a shocked gasp and just stared at you with an open mouth.

“Hiya!” You smiled wide, your lips stained with the red wine you were clearly dunk off of. “I missed you Joongieee~”

You hugged him so easily it caught him by surprise but he wasn’t complaining. You weren’t exactly the touchy type and this was so soothing to him he had to hug back with all that he got. Who knows when he would get the chance to hug you again.

“You’re wet. Come on inside, let’s dry your hair off.”

You followed after him without a complaint and he closed the door as you entered. Lia let out a soft breath as she waited for you to be safe inside and left the building, praying that this would work and that you haven’t gotten drunk for nothing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t spend tonight with you Jongiee, you know I would but I needed time off to gather my courage Jongiee.” You said in a sing-song voice, amusing the man who gently dabbed her hair with a towel.

“Had fun tonight I see.”

“I got drunk on purpose.” You admitted without any hesitation. “I had to because I’m a coward and can’t tell you otherwise.”

“Now why would you be a coward?” Hongjoong was now very confused.

“Because I love you.” The man almost slipped off his own couch when he heard those words. “But I can’t fully love you if I’m scared you’ll leave me like the rest.”

“What are you talking about y/n?” He now kneeled in front of you holding your hands in his. “I won’t leave you. I’m having so much fun with you that I’d be pretty stupid to leave.”

“That’s what grandmother used to tell me too. But then she left me for good.” Your pout was so prominent that it physically hurt Hongjoong to see you this way. “My parents died in a car crash a few months after I was born so I never met them. I’ve been with my grandparents ever since. My grandfather died when I was seven and since then I’ve been coping with death quite badly. When I was in highschool I liked this boy and we started dating, but he also died of an illness. Ever since then I closed myself off from human contact and only ever had room for Lia and my grandmother. Then Lia had her son and he was the only joy in both of our lives. We were all happy.” You looked at the floor and held his hands tighter. “But when my grandmother died I thought my wold was going to end. My days were mundane.” You finally looked up at him and into his eyes. “Until I met you.”

“I’m so sorry you went through all of that.” He sincerely said.

“I’m scared I’m going to loose you too and that I’ll be left alone again Hongjoong.” You said now kneeling just as he was. “I don’t get attached to people because of that fear. But for the first time I did. I don’t regret it, but I’m scared.”

“You shouldn’t be!” He exclaimed and brought you in for a hug. “That little poem you wrote in the book you lent me broke my heart y/n! I could never leave such a raw power like yours!” He kissed the top of your head with a silent promise. “I’ll fight God if I have to! He is either taking both of us, or none at all.”

The soft snores which came from your body softened him to a puddle. He hooked his arm under your legs and carried you off to his bed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead. You looked so peaceful and composed.

The weight has been finally lifted off your shoulders.

“You’re stuck with me and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He whispered out.

･*:༅｡

Loud lapping noises came from one of the tables as a grey ball of fluff drank the liquid from one of the cups. The young girls at the table gushed out as the cat enjoyed their cup of tea this afternoon.

“I’m sorry girls. Is Bi bothering you?” You asked worried as you caught the little rascal of the cat. “She seems to enjoy raspberry tea for some reason.”

“Oh not at all Miss y/n.” The girls were quick to protest. “We rather enjoy her company.”

You smiled excusing yourself and taking your cat downstairs to the counter. The bell chime of your shop sounded and a bouncy Hongjoong came in, a bag loosely hanging off his shoulder.

“Hiya.” He greeted you with a peck to your lips as you blushed. “I brought some raspberry cake.”

“How’d you know I was craving some?” You asked him, a teasing smirk on your face.

“I had a hunch. Come on, I wanna give you our one year anniversary present!” He ushered you to sit down in the lounge area of your shop pulling an envelope from his bag.

“Can I give you mine first?” You asked, holding on to a box.

He nodded and quickly snatched the box from your fingers and opened it, surprise on his facial features. He pulled out the small golden ball and looked at you for an explanation.

“It’s a compass. So you don’t get lost from me.” You blushed saying the last bit of it.

“This is so wholesome I could cry.” His eyes were really getting glossy. “Now open yours!”

You carefully tarred the envelope and pulled out two pieces of paper you thought you never would see in your life. It was two plain tickets to Serbia, a ten day trip to their famous raspberry fields. You looked up at your boyfriend with wide happy eyes.

“I booked them on our first date.” He admitted with a shy smile. “I knew we’d be together long enough for those to stay valid.” He smiled widely at you, the bookshop getting filled with warmth created by the both of you. “I’m really glad you gave me a chance y/n.” He kissed you with such passion you thought you’d faint on the spot.

“I’m really glad I listened to that waitress.” You kissed him back with equal feelings of love. “Because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t get to finally fill my loneliness with you.”

Bi observed you two from her place on the counter and purred in content as her owners settled in their own warmness, filling the bookshop with a sense of comfort.

#ateez imagines #ateez #kim hongjoong #ateez reactions #raspberry

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

Text

Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Where We Were and Who We are to Become

September 12, 1945

Evelyn always whistled when she baked. Maybe it was a bit the piano student in her but it always seemed to brighten her spirits with a little tune on her lips. In her tiny London apartment, she had just slid her own birthday cake in the oven when the phone rang.

She wiped her hands off on the tea towel and hurried to the wall where the phone was hung and picked up the receiver, “Hello?”

“Evelyn.”

It was her mother.

“Oh, Mama, hello. I just put my cake in the oven. I know you suggested waiting until at least the day before but I don’t mind. I was just far too excited-”

“Evelyn,” her mother’s voice was quiet as if she was whispering into the phone and she sounded like she was crying, “it’s your brother.”

Evelyn swore her heart stopped in her chest and she gripped tighter onto the receiver in her hand, “What about him, Mama?”

“He’s come home, darling. He’s home safe.”

“What?” Evelyn choked out.

“He’s home. Charlie’s home.”

Evelyn didn’t need one more piece of information, “I’m on my way.”

She pulled the uncooked cake out of the oven, nearly threw it on the counter, grabbed her purse, and was out the door in an instant. Her legs couldn’t carry her fast enough but the city traffic wouldn’t have been any better so she resorted to running across the sidewalks of London to the train station.

Evelyn made it back to her childhood home on the earliest train she could – clocking in from apartment to porch in a record 45 minutes – and rushed right inside without even a knock. Elizabeth had seen her daughter running up the driveway and had stood up to meet her in the hallway but Evelyn pushed right past her and around the couch to where her brother and her father were sat.

One look at her big brother and Evelyn was stopping in place, her breath shuttering in her chest at the sight of him. He was older, that was for sure, but he wasn’t what she expected. He looked tired and frail and terribly frightened.

Evelyn was exactly how Charles had expected her to look. He left her as a girl of merely eighteen and he returned to her as a woman of almost twenty-five. She was grown now and she was beautiful and it shattered Charlie’s heart to have missed so much of his little sister over the last six years. His quiet crying fell back into emotional weeping and he curled into Daniel’s side shamefully.

“Charlie.” Evelyn whimpered, dropping her purse to the floor and she gently sat beside him on the couch. Her hand hesitated in the air a moment as if she were afraid to touch him but then she set her hand against his arm, “It’s okay, Charlie.”

She glanced up at their father as if needing to ask for permission to console her older brother but Daniel just held open his arm and she shuffled up close. She rested her head on Charlie’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, her brave big brother, and let her silent tears fall into the sleeve of his uniform. He had always been there for her for her whole life, Charlie was her protector from the moment she was born, but now he was the one needing her. Evelyn was grown up enough now to understand that…and to understand that no words had to be spoken to show it.

The Seavey’s sat on their couch together for at least an hour; parents holding their two children and thanking God for their safety and for allowing them the privilege of getting through the hardest six years they ever had to endure.

When the initial shock had calmed down, Elizabeth remade some tea and Evelyn helped her bring the teacups and the biscuits into the parlour. The two women paused for a moment together in the kitchen and shared a quick hug and a few tears before returning to their family.

Charlie refused to let go of Daniel and no one dared to ask him to stop – especially not Daniel. The young man rested with his cheek against his father’s chest, right over his heart, and clutched his shirt in his fist until he was creasing the fabric. Daniel only pet his hair and held him close without a word. Elizabeth couldn’t read her husband’s expression as he stared down at their son in his arms.

When Charlie was able, he sat up to have his tea; the china cup trembling in his hand as he lifted it to his mouth to sip carefully. Daniel tended to him without second thought, holding a hand to the back of his head and helped to guide his son’s shaking hand so the tea wouldn’t spill all over him.

“Good boy.” Daniel whispered.

Charlie only whimpered through his next breath and let Daniel set the teacup down on the coffee table. Elizabeth had turned the photographs back around while Charlie had been distracted in his initial return and now he stared up at the frames on the mantle with a flat expression, scanning each one as if it were his first time seeing it.

“Biscuit, Charlie?” Evelyn asked softly, holding out a small square tea cookie to her brother.

“Let’s not rush him, buttercup.” Daniel said gently.

“It’s okay.” Charles mumbled and carefully took the cookie from his sister. He took a tiny bite from the corner and savoured it in his mouth like it was the most delicious yet dangerous thing he had eaten his whole life.

His family watched him silently.

He ate half of the biscuit and then set the rest back on the saucer on the coffee table.

“What do you want to do now, darling?” Elizabeth asked.

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” Charlie spoke as strongly as he could but his voice wavered and broke at the end.

“We know.” Elizabeth tisked pitifully and set a comforting hand on his back.

“I was…I was distracted…” Charlie discreetly glanced down to his hand on his lap where the ring engraved with RB was tucked around his right pinky. The family held their breaths, the three of them knowing who that ring belonged to perfectly well. Charlie continued, “I was distracted and was shot down over enemy lines and…they took me prisoner.”

Evelyn curled up into her brother’s side as he recalled his last few months.

Charlie took a trembling inhale as he spoke to the floor, “They wouldn’t kill us because that would cause their prisoners in British control to be killed and they didn’t want to risk that but they…they kept us in a camp. I tried to write to you…I swear that I did…but…but we weren’t allowed. They barely fed us and they…they tried to treat us like…like we were nothing. I was…I was just waiting to die because a few men starved to death in the night and…and I didn’t know the war was over until the Russian’s liberated the camp a fortnight ago. I…We were in there for months after the armistice and…and I couldn’t write you. I didn’t think…I didn’t…I didn’t have anyone!”

He broke down in sobs, hiding his face in his hands as his whole body trembled and shook.

“Richie’s dead and it’s m-my fault!” Charlie wept loudly.

Daniel pulled his son’s hands from his face and gently but strongly turned him to face him, holding his cheeks in his palms, “You look at me, Charles Christian.”

Charlie blinked away his heavy tears to meet his father’s concerned expression.

“I wish I could have told you this the moment your brother died in your arms but I can only offer this now. That was not your fault.”

“Yeah, it was!” Charlie nodded helplessly, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. “I was flying…I didn’t help him unbuckle…I could have…I could h-have-”

“Christ.” Daniel breathed to himself, trying to compose himself to somehow offer consolation to his son. He closed his eyes and took a breath before looking at him again. Charlie sobbed, his grown-up face still cradled in his father’s hands. “They have made you sit in this self-decided guilt for far too long. I know it well, Charles. I know it far too well. You don’t have to say one word to me and I know you cried yourself to sleep every night in that camp and I know that despite them starving you, you still refused to eat because the sight of food made you sick. I know that you hated every breath you took because he wasn’t there breathing with you.”

Charlie sobbed louder, nodding quickly.

“And you look at me right now, Charles Christian.” Daniel ordered with nothing but pure love in his voice.

Charlie sniffled as he stared pathetically at his father with his same light blue eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“I will tell you every morning and every night until you believe it; what happened to Richard is not your fault. You are not a bad person because of it and I am damn sure you did everything you could to try and save him.”

“He didn’t let me take him to the nurses station!” Charlie cried.

“But you held him, didn’t you?”

Charlie nodded.

“And you told him you loved him, didn’t you?”

Charlie nodded again.

“And you still remember the things he wanted you to pass on for him, don’t you?”

Charlie nodded, nearly drowning himself in his tears, choking over each breath.

“I know.” Daniel said. “Because you are a good brother and a good man and a good son and you make me so damn proud every single day of your life. Don’t you forget it.”

“It hurts so bad!” Charlie sobbed.

“I know.” Daniel pulled him close and wrapped his arms around his son, pressing a kiss to his cheek before clutching him to his chest. “It’s going to hurt every day for the rest of your life but it will get easier.”

Charlie, a grown man of twenty-seven laid helplessly against his father’s chest, crying into his shirt and clinging onto him like he was his only salvation. And Daniel held him close, not saying a single word, clutching onto his son as if his touch could take away his pain.

He stared over his shoulder to his daughter and his wife, Evelyn easily curling up with her brother to try to console him and Daniel held his two children securely. His eyes raised back to Elizabeth who was crying herself too but she smiled a tight but honest smile to her husband and reached a hand out to set over his one that was wrapped around his son.

“You…” she sniffled slightly, trying to keep her voice quiet for only him to hear, “You are the most incredible man I have ever known.”

Daniel held back his own tears for the sake of his grown-up children and mouthed an “I love you” to his wife which she returned. As the family held each other on the couch, Daniel let his tear filled eyes drift over to the mantle, lingering on the Victoria Cross sitting in its bed of velvet and the framed photograph of his brother smiling back at him.

His worst fear had come true: the evil of humanity wrapping itself around his son’s heart until his joy was suffocated out of him. An experience he swore never to even wish onto his worst enemy.

#✉#daniel seavey

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Note

could we mayhaps see chris as he just starts to get comfortable. tentatively interacting with people in the house for the first time, antoni being a nice roommate and helping him feel comfortable. jake trying to hold in his excitement that chris is properly coming out of his shell and interracting🥺👉🏻👈🏻

CW: Referenced drugging, neurodivergent character trying to “pass”, VERY vague referenced to past noncon, conditioned internal dehumanization/conditioned behaviors

Takes place directly after Chris Gets a Name

Tagging Chris’s crew: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @stxckfxck , @slaintetowhump, @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout

“Hey, Chris, you’re up.”

Oh, he forgot that his name is different now, that he chose one for himself. It felt like part of the fever, he hadn’t been sure if he actually chose a new name or if he just made that up.

“Chris,” He repeats, knowing he sounds like a parrot, and his eyes trail over to the curtains over the kitchen windows, gingham curtains, old-fashioned and homey like a family on TV that he watches with Sir some evenings, curled up with him, warm beneath Sir’s blankets and feeling perfectly, truly cared for when the games are over and he’s won or he’s lost and he takes the pill and is allowed just to be quiet and still and good and not scared-

“My name... is Chris, now.”

“Yeah, and it’s a good name. Everyone, this is Chris.”

He has met all these people at the table, but they look at him as though they’ve never seen him before, and he cringes back and away from their murmured greetings.

The tall blond man, Jake - who isn’t an owner, Chris understands that now, and he’s wearing a t-shirt plaid sleep pants - is sitting at the table and the boy’s eyes go immediately to the plates of biscuits with white gravy layered over the top, the smell of frying sausage heavy in the air in the kitchen, although an open window lets in a soft breeze and the scent of lilacs from a bush at the house next door.

The boy feels his stomach flip, uncomfortably unsettled. Miss Nancy smells like lilacs and Sir likes biscuits and gravy, has them every morning once per week, the boy thinks of days in the food Sir eats. Biscuits Day, Omelette Day, Cheese Danish Day.

Is it Biscuit Day here?

The others are at the table, too - not the older woman with brown hair, the boy could hear her talking to someone up in the attic when he first left the room.

He felt like standing for the first time in days, since he’d gotten so sick and hidden in the storage room. His legs wobbled, weak and weary, underneath him as he made his way downstairs but now, leaning against the doorframe and wrapped in a big fluffy blanket that smells like some man’s cologne but not Sir’s, he feels better.

“D’you want to sit?” Jake gestures at the table. There is one chair empty, the lady’s chair, but the other seats are taken by the other ones like him.

Not like him at all.

There’s one girl with a ponytail, wearing a big sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking at him with nervous wide eyes that seem a little too big for her face. The other girl has short dark hair in a bob and barely looks at him at all. There’s a boy, too, older than he is (they’re all older than you are) who has dark hair mussed-up and shadowed, faintly feline eyes that turn up at the corners just a little, a hint of a smile on his face. He looks at the boy directly, and gives a little wave with his free hand.

The boy lifts his arm just enough to give a wave back, then drops it again, curling himself even more tightly up in the blanket.

“Do I... want to... sit?” He paces his words, careful and calm, just like training. Try to figure out the expectations and deliver on them. “Should I...” He hesitates, swallowing hard. “In your... lap, Sir?”

The dark-haired girl chokes on her food and jerks forward, coughing into one hand, while Ponytail pats her on the back, whispers something into her ear. Both of them look back up at him, briefly, and Chris can’t tell if they hate him or pity him but their eyes are shuttered closed and he cringes away, ready to run back upstairs to the bedroom and the stuffed puppy he’s been petting while he stares out the window and wonders if he’ll be allowed outside, sometimes, here.

Jake clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh... no, man. No, you don’t... no. We’re not like that.”

“You will never be expected to do that here,” The other Box Boy says, his eyes on Chris’s, warm and inviting. “Jake is offering for you to sit in the chair.” His voice is low and deep, his words soft and slow and gentle.

They sink into Chris’s mind like the feeling of petting a rabbit’s ears, and he takes one step forward and then another.

“In the... chair?” He looks around at them all, trying to understand. “But, but, but but but I’m not allowed-” He flinches-

silence is better than stammering, darlin’

-but when he looks back up no one looks angry, just... curious, still. Maybe nervous. Are they nervous, too? Chris is nervous, he doesn’t know what any of this means or who to be, here, how to be anything but what he’s always been, the only thing he remembers how to be.

It’s been days since he had a pill and his mind feels normal again, running on all his tracks, and he notices that the sausage gravy looks heavily peppered at the same time he thinks that Jake has lots of muscles and the girls are very pretty but one has a scar over her lip and eyebrow and the other one’s hands are shaking and are they shaking because of him?

“You are allowed to sit wherever you please,” The other Box Boy says, gently. “Whenever you want to sit there. There is no allowed, here.”

Chris’s eyes skip from him to the girls, who give him small soothing smiles, and then to Jake, who has pushed the chair out a little in an obvious invitation. Jake feels safe, he feels like maybe a good kind of handler, like he will be the one to teach Chris the things he needs to know and won’t even have to hurt him to do it.

“I will... I will sit in the, the chair,” Chris says slowly, and moves into the room in a shuffle-step with the blanket still pulled tightly around himself. It’s a light blue downy fluff blanket that puffs out like the puffy vest Sir likes to wear on cold days - Southern affectation, I admit you can take the man out of the South but you’ll never get the South out of the man whispers his soft slick voice in the back of Chris’s mind - and he settles into the chair despite the bone-deep urge to slip to his knees, because he doesn’t get to use a chair unless it’s Sir’s.

“Chris,” Jake says, leaning over to squeeze his shoulder, and Chris closes his eyes at the brief warm touch that feels so good, so right. “You know I’m Jake. You’ve heard the other’s names but i’m guessing you probably forgot... this is Krista-”

Ponytail smiles at him, a little more warmly this time. Her eyes roam over his face and whatever she sees makes her smile even warmer. Chris had expected her to go cold. The other ones never like the ones like him. He doesn’t know that he’s ever met one before but it doesn’t matter, they all know that, they always tell you don’t even bother, they’ll all hate you in the end.

But Krista only smiles at him and says softly, “Hi, Chris.”

She’s so pretty, with the ponytail that swings over her neck and her wide, wide eyes. He wants almost to kiss her, but he doesn’t want to kiss her at all.

What you want is no longer relevant. What are your options now?

Be g-good, or... or be in trouble.

He can kiss her, if he needs to. He can be good.

“H-hello,” He whispers back. Jake gets up and Chris flinches at the sound the chair makes as it scrapes along the kitchen floor. He still feels a little shivery around the edges, like the fever wants to come back and is lying in wait. He’s tired and weak and it feels like one of the nights Sir plays games, except he feels like they don’t do that, here.

He’s in a shelter. This is a safe place for escaped pets, he tries to remind himself of what he was told when they brought him inside. They call him a rescue, now, not a pet.

“And I’m Leila,” The girl with short dark hair speaks next, leaning over to catch Chris’s eye. Her smile is more impish than Ponytail’s, and he could definitely kiss her, too, but there’s also a distance, there. She seems... cautious of him. Or maybe of everyone. “All our names we pick ourselves. I like yours.”

“I am Antoni,” The other Box Boy says, smiling calmly at him. “Are you hungry, Chris? Jake made us breakfast.”

Chris swallows, hard, looking around at the plates of biscuits and gravy. He can almost feel Sir’s fingers wiping a bit of gravy from the corner of his mouth. “Can, can I please...” He swallows, hard.

Calm. Quiet. Careful. Slow.

“Can I... please just have something else?”

There’s a silence, as the three other ones stare at him, and Jake is quiet by the stove. Then, with nothing but the same genial welcome in his voice, Jake says brightly, “We have Pop Tarts, would you like those? It’s just strawberry, but Leila likes them, so Nat keeps them on hand.”

“What... what’s a Pop... Pop Tart?” Chris asks, hesitantly, then winces. Is this something he should have known? Will he be in trouble?

Leila’s eyes light up. “Oh, God, you don’t remember them. Oh, Jake, give him one of mine!” She looks at Chris, right at him, and he feels the urge to cringe away and lean closer, both at once. “You have to-... you’re going to love Pop Tarts, I promise!”

“‘Love’ might be a strong word...” Antoni murmurs, and Krista shushes him with a little giggle.

Chris discovers himself smiling, a little, as Jake opens a little rectangular foil package and lays what looks like icing-covered sprinkle bread in front of him. He picks it up - it feels hard to the touch, like it’s overcooked, but all of them are watching him, now.

Sir has never fed him anything like this.

“Go ahead, man,” Jake says brightly. “Take a bite.” He drops back down into his seat, and Chris looks at him - strong and tall and muscular and nice-looking - and he thinks, I could be so good for you.

Chris picks up the thing and puts it in his mouth, takes a bite and chews. His eyes widen at a sudden burst of nearly chemical oversweet flavor, the crunch of icing and chewy bread part and then a kind of sweet filling like jam but it doesn’t taste like any jam Chris has ever had before. He chews and chews, it sticks to his tongue a little, but finally he swallows it down and stares at it, looking at the center full of a deep red something-or-other. It does look like jam...

Then he puts it back in his mouth and takes another bite.

“See, I told you he’d like Pop Tarts,” Leila says, almost smugly.

“No, you told him he would like Pop Tarts,” Antoni answers, humor lacing his voice. “And so he does.”

“You owe me, Ant.”

“We did not make a bet!”

“I’ll tell Nat to buy some more,” Jake interrupts, and Chris looks over at him and smiles around his mouthful, and Jake smiles back. Chris pulls his feet up to sit cross-legged in the chair, blanket tight around him, and starts to tap on his stomach hidden by the blanket where none of them can see to stop him.

“I, I, I I-I feel better,” He says after he swallows.

No one says anything about his words.

“I feel so much better.”

He really, really does.

#trauma recovery #trauma recovery whump #conditioned #conditioning #pet whump #memory loss #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #Antoni Sings Lullabies #Leila the Mermaid Girl #Krista Girl #recovering whumpee #oliver branch is gross #all comfort no hurt #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #tw: implied/referenced drugging

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johannstutt413 · 3 years

Text

(requested by anonymous)

“Doctor! Come on! Stop dragging your feet!” Nian was pulling at their chair, trying to drag them out of the room with her. “You’re not that busy, are you?”

“I really am, Nian! Let me do my work, please!” They’d gotten to the point of driving their boots’ heel-spikes into the floor, which was why the Nian was having so much trouble.

At this point, Ceobe poked her head into the office. “Doctor smells scared. Why?”

“Oh thank God.” They gestured to the newcomer. “If you want someone to go grab lunch with so badly, take her. She drinks hot sauce by itself; I’m sure she’d love that place.”

“Hmm...Fine, but next time, I’m not letting you off so easy.” She left them to their work, gesturing for the Perro to follow her.

For her part, Ceobe was never one to turn down walkies. “Doctor’s right about the hot sauce. Do you like spicy food, Nian?”

“Spicy food is the only good food there is,” she asserted. “I mean, no offense to the chefs who can’t make it right, but if you aren’t feeling that sweet, sweet inferno on your lips and tongue after you finish a meal, you didn’t eat anything worthwhile...You drink hot sauce?”

“Yeah, it’s really good! I asked Gummy to make it fizzy for me one time, and she did, and it was the best thing ever!”

Nian chuckled. “Fizzy? You mean like a soda?”

“Yeah!” Ceobe’s tail was going off. “You’re smart. I like you!”

“Heh...Well, you seem like a hell of a lot more fun than our stuffy Doctor.”

The Perro cocked her head. “Stuffy? Like a teddy bear?”

“No, more like a...” She thought for a moment. “They work too much, I think.”

“Oh! It would be nice if they gave me more headpats. They give me some, but more is always better - more food, more headpats, more spicy, more more more!”

The Nian nodded. “Exactly! You get it! Man, where have you been the past three hun- where have you been hiding?”

“Hiding?” Ceobe shook her head. “I don’t hide anywhere. I stay with Vulcan, and I go to the cafeteria a lot, and I go for walkies with people when they’re bored or sad.”

“Huh...so you’re a emotional support Perro?”

She nodded vigorously. “Mmhmm! When I’m not smashing bad guys, at least!”

“That’s neat.” Nian gestured to a restaurant a few blocks ahead. “And there’s our stop, right there. Do you like Lungmen food, Ceobe?”

“You can call me Kay! And um...I like food, so yes!”

She chuckled. “Oh, you are an absolute delight. Do you have any money with you?”

“Um...Oh, yeah, I do.” Ceobe rooted around in her pocket, then another pocket, then a third pocket, where she eventually found the wallet Vulcan had gotten her and some of the blue paper they called “money” around Rhodes Island. “I don’t know how many, though.”

“I think it’s ‘how much’ when it’s money, Kay. Here, I can count it for you.” She gave Nian her wallet, and after a brief tally, the Nian confirmed she had enough...A scary amount more than enough, truth be told. Where did she get all that money when she clearly didn’t know what it was worth?

After entering the restaurant and sitting down, the Perro’s tail wagging like a metronome and occasionally brushing against her new best friend sitting next to her, Nian pointed to some squiggles on the paper called a “menu.” “Can you read this?”

“Nope!” The cheerful way Ceobe shook her head when confirming her complete lack of literacy was, admittedly, absolutely adorable. “Can you?”

“Yes, yes I can. Let’s see...You’ll eat just about anything?”

She nodded. “Yep! But not honey biscuits.”

“Really?” Nian took note of that. “You don’t like honey biscuits?”

“No, I love them! Just not all of them. Vulcan makes really good ones, and Mister Matterhorn and Lava do, too. Other people...need practice.”

The Nian was already planning on ambushing her partner in movie-making with this precious Perro; this only gave her more reason to. “Gotcha, gotcha. In that case, how about we share something? There’s this one dish with ghost peppers I can’t get enough of.”

“Okay!” Ceobe blinked. “Nian, what’s a ghost pepper? And how do you eat it?”

“It’s a really really spicy pepper. Not actually a ghost; that’s a common misconception.”

She nodded, before blinking again. “A miscon-what?”

“Like...a thing people think is true, but isn’t. Sorry, I’ve lived a long time, and I’m not used to talking to you yet.”

“It’s okay! You’re doing a good job so far!” The Perro’s tail continued to wag for a moment, but stopped suddenly as she set her head on Nian’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

The sudden shift in Ceobe’s mood threw her for a loop. “What’s okay, Kay?”

“I couldn’t tell when we were walking, but I feel it now. Nian is more scared than Doctor was earlier, and sad, too.”

“I...” She stared at the top of the Perro’s head before starting to pet her, unable to resist the call. “I don’t know if I can explain why to you.”

Ceobe shook her head. “That’s okay. You don’t have to. I am your support Perro, so I’ll be here for you to headpat your worries away. Cardigan said that’s how it works.”

“She’s right about that.” Nian had to admit, she hadn’t once thought about her inevitable demise since she’d left the Doctor’s office with Kay in tow, but it seemed the weight of it was still palpable...How was it that this was the first of her kind she’d met who was so perceptive?

“Good afternoon, Miss Nian.” A server had finally found them. “Ah, I see you have a guest with you today. The usual?”

She nodded. “Yes...Two orders, please. Kay, what do you want to drink?”

“A bottle of hot sauce, please!”

“...You know what? Make it two.” Nian grinned at the server. “I need to know what I’ve been missing out on.”

They bowed, making a note not to trifle with this sandy-haired masochist. “We’ll have those for you right away.”

“Thank you...Hey, Kay? You do know their hot sauce is hotter than the stuff you’re probably used to, right?”

“Oohhhhh.” She shrugged. “I do now!”

The Nian chuckled, shaking her head as she slid an arm around the Perro’s shoulder. “You really are a keeper...Hmm.”

“...That’s what you’re scared of?”

“Hmm?” Nian looked at her again. “What do you mean?”

Ceobe slid off her shoulder to hold her gaze, eye to eye, with a seriousness that was so artificial it would almost be laughable...if it wasn’t so powerful, in the way only someone constantly cheerful can manage. “You’re going to die soon, and you’re scared no one will remember you after you do.”

“...What gives you that idea?”

“I listened to your weapon.” She gestured to the small container she kept her mugging repellant in. “I don’t always understand people, but I can speak Sword just fine. Yours is really weird, very...confused. It doesn’t know what it should look like, but it knows its job, and it shares your worries. One day, you will die, and even I won’t be able to use it, so it wants to keep you alive for as looooong as possible...but you’ve seen your last day, and it’s coming too close, like it always does. You won’t be able to come back and see me, because I’ll be gone, too - the black rocks are growing too fast - but while we’re here, we should enjoy it, right?”

The Nian was speechless for a long moment, simply staring into Ceobe’s eyes. “How?”

“Every weapon has a story, Nian. I like stories.” The Perro reached up and gave her companion a headpat, directly between her horns.

“...After we eat, will you walk with me for awhile?” She wasn’t sure why it felt so good to be headpat by Kay, but she knew how she wanted to return the favor. “If you know that much from my weapon already, I might be able to tell you more, and...and I really want to.”

She smiled. “Sure! I like stories.”

“Me too, Kay. Me too.”

#arknights #nian (arknights)#ceobe (arknights)#...dude why the hell is my Kay like this?#like y'all notice this too right?#it's just so easy to give her this insane insight #admittedly i give it to Red too #but this is...I like it #but i don't understand it entirely #hmm #arknights fic

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brelione · 4 years

Text

The Goddess Part Two (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Part Three Part One

The next time he saw you was at the petting zoo.He knew you’d be there but for some reason he was still shocked to see you.You hadnt seen him yet,though.It was before opening hours.He was hiding in the lower branches of a tree,watching as you sung to the goats.He couldnt even understand the words you were saying,just the sound of your voice as it hit unbelievably high notes.It was enough to make his heart thump,his chest to tighten and him to almost fall off of the tree branch he had been clinging too.Suddenly you were all that mattered to him.Nothing else existed.Just you.His eyes were almost like cameras,zooming in on you.You were wearing a white sundress that somehow hadnt gotten any dirt or goat poop on it.Your hair was messy and curly from the salt water you swam in all the time,your shiny jewelry glistening in the sunlight.You snapped your fingers,one of the smaller goats had literally jumped on you.

You giggled,holding a flower out to it.The goat got back down and they ran around their hay covered fenced in area.Your house was a good distance away from the area but it was still within his line of vision.Your family was absolutely rich but you werent kooks.You guys willingly chose to live in a shitty house.It looked shitty from the outside but JJ had never been inside.Your father had payed JJ large amounts of money to mow your lawn every tuesday.It didnt need to be mowed.You could just have the goats eat up the excess grass,or the chickens,or the cows.But little did JJ know that you were behind his weekly job.You knew that JJ didnt have a lot of money and shifted between John.B’s house and his own house,spending some nights at the beach.

You wanted JJ to have a good amount of money for anything he might need.Whether it be gas,a coffee,a new shirt,going to the laundromat.You just liked the idea of him being safe and happy all the time.Thats when he had seen you wearing that lovely sweater.You had come out of your house,placing a small jar of home made jam,a paper bag and an energy drink out on your deck before going back inside.JJ had been watching you out of the corner of his eye,blushing a bit when he realized that you were leaving him a breakfast.You left the fenced in area,the goats trying to follow you out. “Oh,dont act like you dont get all the attention in the world!”You had said quietly to them as they stared up at you.

JJ didnt even wonder how he had heard it from where he was.You were walking towards the tree with a light blue bag.JJ cursed,trying to move higher up in the tree.He hadnt even noticed that he was in the branches above the cows.There were six cows total,two of which were extremely fluffy.When you got to the fence only a few feet away from him you looked over at the tree. “Hey.”You nodded before opening the light blue bag.His eyebrows furrowed,stunned by how casual you were being. “Hi.”He replied,his voice sounding hoarse.He mentally slapped himself,clearing his throat quietly. “You know we dont let anyone pet the goats or hold the chickens until 10.What’s up?”You asked,taking fistfulls of food out of the light blue bag as cows approached you.He rolled his eyes so far back in his head he should’ve been able to see his brain,resting his head against the tree bark.Why did you have to be like this?He actually wanted to talk to you,to have a conversation and make you giggle.

“I mow your lawn on Tuesday’s,princess.”He reminded you.You raised your eyebrows as you pet one of the cows. “J,its monday.”You huffed as you let another cow eat oats straight out of your hand.He scoffed. “It is not-”He paused to take out his phone,checking the day. “Shit.”He groaned.You smiled. “Its fine,JJ.Have you eaten today?”You asked.He grumbled something. “What?”You asked.He sighed. “I said,why do you care?”He asked.You shrugged,tossing out more oats. “Breakfast is really important for you guys.”You replied,eyes going wide when you realized what you said.He squinted. “What?You mean poor people?”He asked,aggravated.You shook your head. “No,JJ.Thats not what I mean at all.You’re a growing boy,you need to eat.”You explained yourself.He hopped down from the tree,towering over you.

You stared up at him.He stared at you with admiration.Your eyes were slightly puffy from just waking up,the whites of your eyes slightly pink.You smelled like peaches,cookie dough and ocean.It was a strange concoction but somehow it was pleasant.You were wearing cute socks that had winnie the pooh on them.You werent wearing shoes though,just the socks and the dress. “So um...I have to collect the chicken eggs.Do you want breakfast or a coffee or something?”You asked,playing with your bracelets.As much as he hated you-or at least as he pretended to hate you he was really hungry.He wasnt hungry.He just wanted to be around you.He shrugged. “Okay,but that doesnt make us friends.”he pointed at you.You nodded,biting back a smile. “Wouldnt dream of it.”You replied.He followed you to the chicken coop. “Morning ladies!”You exclaimed as you opened the nesting boxes,placing the eggs in an egg carton. “Um….Im sorry JJ,but could you please hold this?”You asked,gesturing toward the egg carton.

He held out his hands and you thanked him quietly,handing him the egg carton.Perhaps if he really hated you as much as he said he did he would drop the eggs on purpose.But he didnt.You apologized a few times for the long walk to the house from the chicken coop.You struggled to open the door,kicking it open.He just followed you to the kitchen.Your house was….it was just kind of beautifully chaotic.Murals across the walls,mermaids,a sunset with beautiful blue waves.Your kitchen had white tiles on the floor,marble counter tops and a white fridge.The table had a white tablecloth that was covered with flower print.You placed the two egg cartons you had been carrying down.You jumped a bit when you moved your elbow,feeling JJ right behind you. “Sorry.”You mumbled,moving out of the way.He grinned at how nervous he was making you right now.Usually it was the other way around.Your kitchen smelled like bread and strawberries.His nose was correct.

He spotted jars of strawberry jam and saw a loaf of bread wrapped in parchment paper. “What do you want for breakfast?”You asked him.He glanced at the bread and jam on the countertops.You turned,getting the message.You told him to sit down at the table and he couldnt help but feel a bit uneasy.He’d never been inside your house before.He looked outside your kitchen window to see your garden.Your garden was kind of famous.Lemon and peach trees,berry bushes,flowers,herbs,garlic and potatoes.People from figure 8 would call your father when they were in need of bread,biscuits,muffins,cakes,jellys,jams,eggs.

Basically anything.A good amount of families had hosted birthdays at your house and you’d help your father bake the cakes,usually making spaghetti or mac and cheese for the children.And now JJ was sitting at your kitchen table about to dine like a king free of charge.He took this chance to ask you some questions about yourself,knowing youd probably answer honestly without thinking about it because you were currently busy. “So like...whats the deal with your mom?”He asked.You shrugged your shoulders as you spread jam across a slice of bread. “She dropped me off at the door then disappeared.”You replied.Youd been over the story dozens of times,no emotions even ties to the story at this point.He nodded. “That sucks.”You giggled quietly at the statement.You really didnt care.She made her choice and your father made his.

“So what do you do all day in this house?You never go anywhere.You got a lot of boyfriends that come around?”He asked.You sighed as you cut up an apple.You smiled to yourself.That was the stupidest thing youd ever heard. “I go places.”You retaliated.He scoffed. “Where?Where have you gone?”He asked.You blushed from the realization. “I go to the beach.”You replied,looking over your shoulder. “You need to get out more.Half the people on this island dont even know you exist.”He watched how your body moved as you arranged the apples into a flower. “Okay.”Was all you had do say before you placed the plate down in front of him. “You want some coffee?”you asked.He shook his head.

“Sit down.”He suggested.He was telling you what to do in your own house.That was probably the strangest thing that had happened for you that week.You sat across from him,tapping on the wooden table. “thanks,(Y/N).”He mumbled quietly.You just nodded.He stared down at his plate,not touching the food. “You’re not gonna eat anything?”He asked.You shook your head. “Not up for it,I already had a coffee today.”You replied.He nodded. “You werent freaked out over the fact I was in one of your trees...why?”He asked.You just shrugged. “A lot of weird stuff happens in my life,believe it or not.”You replied,watching him pull apart his bread and stuff it in him mouth. “So...um….are you gonna leave when youre done with breakfast?”You asked.He grinned. “Wow,trying to get rid of me already?”He asked.You huffed. “Its not like that!Im just trying to figure out what my plan is for the day.”You explained yourself.He nodded.

“Its not like you’ve got any big plans.I think im gonna stay around here just to spite you.”He smiled.You nodded. “Okay.”You replied.He ran his hand through his hair. “Im kidding.”He replied.You nodded. “Right.I mean I guess you could stay here if you want.”You offered.He chewed his bottom lip. “What if you come with me to the beach and surf for a while?Ive heard you’re okayish as surfing.”He smirked.You scratched your collarbone. “Uh...okay.Okay.”You mumbled awkwardly.You couldnt believe you had just agreed to hang out with JJ Maybank of all people.He hated you.You just had to hope that he wouldnt murder you or something.His eyes widened. “Yeah?You’re gonna come over to the dark side with me?”He asked,smile widening.You grinned. “Dont make me regret it.”You mumbled,getting up from the table.He heard you go up the stairs and he let out a loud sigh.He really just did that.

He wiped his palms of his shorts,blinking hard.He was gonna spend the day with you.He couldnt mess this up.That being said you already thought he hated you and he was kind of a bitch to you but now you would get to actually hang out with him.This was his chance to become your friend.He ate the rest of his breakfast as quickly as he could,placing the plate in the sink.He heard you come back down stairs.He turned to send you a teasin remark but his jaw fell,eyes going wide when he saw what you were wearing.That sweater.You had changed out of the dress,now wearing black shorts,flip flops and that sweater that looked unbelievably amazing on you. “Uh-youre ready to go?”He asked.You nodded.The two of you walked out and you stopped to grab your surfboard. “I know a good surf spot.”He told you.You nodded.He took you down some old dirt roads and a small path through the woods.WHen you came out of the woods you were on pale hot sand,shells and small smooth rocks sprinkling across the land. “The waves are kinda small but theyll get bigger.”He said,sitting down. “Thats what she said.”You grinned to yourself.

@xlittlemissydjx @lasnaro

#jj maybankxreader #jj maybank #jj x you #jj outer banks #outer banks #jj obx #obx #sarah cameron #john b #rafe cameron #kiara carrera

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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years

Text

birds of a feather

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #16 - crane ]

[ illya & friends ] ★ [ 1,847 words ] ★ [ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ] features ancientechos’ laurelis and two of my other ocs.

crane: a tall, long-legged, long-necked bird, typically with white or grey plumage

though their species varies as much as the colors of their plumages, birds of a feather flock the warrior of light together

“So...” Sigfred’s puzzled expression is framed by the furrowing of his eyebrows as he looks down at the young woman as she tries and fails to protectively shield her newest little companion away from his view. “You decided your aviary isn’t quite populated enough, did you?”

He says little, but the creature stood a good two feet taller than the comparably tiny lalafellin in front of it, the red tuff that crowned its head not helping it stay out of sight and unnoticeable either.

Of course, even if the peculiar thing hadn’t been almost the size of a small hyuran child or had striking plumage, it wouldn’t distract anybody from the fact that the lanky, majestic creature Illya had herded back home was yet another bird - a wild crane hailing from the far east.

“It wasn’t my decision to make.” Illya frowns, shaking her head while she idly raises her hand to rest upon the crane’s head, stroking it gently. “She just followed me back.”

“All the way from Yanxia?” The disbelief in his voice is his understandable, as is the skeptical crossing of his arms. He has trouble believing that a wild animal would doggedly tail Illya thousands of miles away from it’s natural habitat. Though his cynicism quickly fades when his scarlet eyes meet starlit ones, and he is reminded of the supernatural affinity the girl has with feathered creatures when a pigeon casually flutters over and lands on top of her head.

He cannot tell if the lack of the wild animal’s natural fear of people when it came to Illya was more absurd, or the fact that she seemed completely nonchalant about the way a bird was nesting atop her hair.

“Yes.” She answers, voice dipping slightly in pitch to convey her seriousness. “Hien had quite a struggle to chase her off the boat.”

Evidently, the Prince of Doma had failed spectacularly... and as if self-aware, the crane puffs it’s chest out and tilts her head high into the sky.

Next to Sigfred, the bard’s shoulder shakes in mirth, his loud guffaw echoing through the shroud of trees and causing the pigeon that had been peacefully resting on Illya’s head to flee, much to her unspoken chagrin.

“Gods, I’m not even surprised anymore.” Wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eyes, E’lija finally speaks in between choked laughter. “Illya brings home a new bird like every other day.”

Heat spreads across the young lady’s face, though as if sensing her embarrassment, the cockatiel that had been sitting quietly upon the branch of Illya’s wisteria tree flys over before landing on her shoulder, now nudging it’s head against her cheek.

“I-I... I don’t choose to, most of the time at least... Plus, if I take good care of them, there shouldn’t be a problem. Isn’t that right, Orion?”

The cockatiel bobs its head up and down, much to the utter shock of E’lija who throws his arms up.

“W-wha- It can understand her??”

Orion doesn’t spare even a second to pause before turning it’s head to lock his beady, round eyes upon the miqo’te before his beak parts to voice his detest towards the man who would embarrass his master.

“Piss off.”

“IT CAN TALK?!?!” E’lija so very nearly falls off his fold up chair, threatening to take the cups of coffee and biscuits onto the floor with him. “WHERE- Where did it learn that from???”

“.....Estinien.” Illya frowns, lifting her index finger to poke at the cockatiel’s forehead in disapproval. “He got into a fight... well... argument with Orion. It wasn’t pretty.”

She really should find a way to tactfully ask the man to cut his expletives down... or at least not feel the raging urge to get into a debate with a mere bird, lest she have a harder and harder time convincing people that she was not in fact the one responsible for teaching her pet cockatiel how to yell ‘Thal’s balls’ in a guest’s ear.

Sigfred merely hums, his hands stroking his chin as he narrows his eyes at the crane.

“What kind of crane is it, anyway? We didn’t see a lot of it’s kind back in Doma.”

“It’s a Manchurian crane - one of the rarest species of cranes in the world, I believe. It’s particularly highly revered in the far east... which was why I had to hide her below deck while we were sailing by Kugane.”

His interest piqued, the redhead straightens himself and adjusts his hat before leaning back into his seat.

“Why’s that?”

“Um... well, if I remember right, it symbolizes good fortune, longevity and immortality.”

E’lija has to stop his jaw from dropping so low that it’d collide with the table. Archons, and this apparently rare crane from the far east that represented god given virtues has now taken a liking to Illya so much it’d leave Doma to stalk her all the way back to Eorzea?

Internally, he wonders what sort of karma he must have to obtain such divine blessings.

With a clear of his throat, Sigfred steers the conversation back on track.

“So what now? What do you plan on doing next with it?”

“I-I.... I don’t... I don’t know? She’s stubborn... wouldn’t budge for anyone. I had thought maybe letting her see just how different the shroud is from Yanxia, she’d want to go home but...”

A hearty, more pleasant giggle rings out next to her, and Illya turns to look at a pink-haired miqo’te who she had assumed would be too pre-occupied with cuddling her baby dodo to have paid attention to her conversation with her other party mates.

Laurelis still is, to an extent... her arms wrapped tightly around the plump, round creature as it lets out an occasional squawk. But as usual, when it came to the topic of animal adoption and welfare, she was ever the first to jump to contribute to the topic.

“Why don’t you just adopt her then? You already know how to take care of other birds so... just one more won’t make much of a change, would it?”

That was the exact mindset that would lead Laurelis to have an ever growing household of cats and dogs that she’d find on her travels... but Illya thinks pointing out the irony to that would only get lost to her dear friend.

“Well... I... I have my reservations.”

Illya turns behind to look back at the crane as it stares intently back at her. Whatever that was going through it’s head, it certainly had no intention of returning where it came from... But that in itself was a bit of a problem.

“Manchurians cranes are an endangered species... I’m not sure I’m qualified enough to take care of one, let alone adopt and keep one for the rest of it’s life, when it should rightfully be wild.”

There was a drip of hypocrisy in her statement, certainly. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to shelter a wild animal only to be forced into a position of adopting it - and it didn’t just apply to birds either.

But caring and raising a species at danger of going extinct was an entirely different issue that she rightfully felt she had no place dabbling in - not without professional training, at least... and the twelve knows when she’d find an expert in the matter willing to teach her.

Ethical concerns aside, Illya also struggled to find a concrete reason for why she absolutely had to keep this beautiful creature in her home.

For most of the other animals she’d adopted, they had been rescued in some form or the other. Hazel for example, the brown sparrow that she had found with broken wings near Bentbranch Meadows a few summers ago. Though Illya had full intentions to release her as soon as she healed from her injuries, the little sparrow grew attached and has rarely ever left her side since.

She’d struggled to find an adopter who would be willing to take in her mobirdly obese chocobo chick Lawrence, due perhaps to their reservations in regards to providing for his demanding diet. And likewise, the hunting hawk that she’d met upon a pirate ship had been abandoned after losing it’s eye... and his protectiveness over not just herself, but anyone he knew to be someone Illya cared for, made it difficult to even find ways to put adverts for his adoption.

Illya had thought the reason why birds seemed to flock to and very often stay by her side had been for the simple fact that she’d saved them... and that their attachment to the one who saved them made it impossible for them to part from her.

The Manchurian crane however, would perhaps be the clearest proof that her affinity with birds was... unnatural, to say the least.

Not that she minded, of course... Because for as much as she would bring doubt to her own abilities to care for the animals under her care, she did secretly have a soft spot for birds that perhaps made it hard for her to give her feathered friends as much as it would be for them to find a new home.

“Maybe I could foster it for a while before bring it back to Doma.” Illya hums, but hears Laurelis whine pitifully in response.

“But she’s clearly attached to you! I’m sure she’ll be happiest by your side. At the end of the day, her happiness and wellbeing is the most important, right? I’m sure you’ll do just fine, Illya!”

The miqo’te points out, gesturing to the yard full of birds who roosted quietly - from Lawrence who was now rolling about in his little playpen full of sand, to Captain Blackbeak who sat vigilantly atop the purple mailbox decorated with golden leaves and stars that sat right outside her yard.

Illya hears hazel singing from where she sat on the roof of the pagoda, and the nudging of the crane’s beak against her face, as if both voicing their agreement for Laurelis’ words... and Illya lets out a heaving sigh that was copied comically by the cockatiel on her shoulder.

“I-I’ll think about it.” Though there’s still a hint of hesitation, the fact Illya was willing to even consider was enough to cause Laurelis to break out into a grin, lifting her hands up to clap in delight.

“Oh goodie! Now think of a name for her!”

“N-now??” With widened eyes of gleaming lavender stars, Illya parts her mouth and shakes her head frantically. “W-when I’m put on the spot like that I can’t--... I can’t think of anything-”

“Oh!” Evidently more than happy to suggest some ideas, E’lija blurts out. “I have some ideas! How about... Queen crane! Or... Immortal Nancy! Or-”

“Shut up stupid! Shut up stupid!”

Bouncing up and down, Orion squeals out, causing the bard to finally collapse off of his chair and spill his milk coffee, which Illya is certain that Lawrence would be more than happy to hop over and drink off the floor.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #illya skawi #laurelis #sigfred #e'lija #fanfic #mine #THIS WAS VERY VERY RUSHED AND I WANTED TO INCLUDE MORE DIALOGUE AND SCENES BUT #IM PRESSED FOR TIME I JUST CAME HOME FROM WORK AAAAA #i originally wanted to write about modern au involving an arcade with the crane game but lulun already did that ;w;#btw go read her fic its SO GOOD

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