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callmelola111 · 10 months

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my summer of you ♡ part one

✄ - - - - part 1 , part 2 - - - - inspo track ⭑ till there was you

synopsis: being sent to your grandparents for the summer was supposed to be a punishment, but when you came face-to-face with your neighbor, you knew it’d be quite the opposite.

| 𓆣 | pairing & wc: loser!ellie williams x neighbor!reader. wc: 4k

| ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, sexual themes but no smut (yet), mentions of religion, tense family relations, perv!ellie makes an appearance, mostly cute fluff moments with a tad bit of angst

a/n: i’ve literally wrote and rewrote so many different fic ideas, it actually was driving me insane. but finally here’s something i’m somewhat satisfied with. this will be a 2 part series so no crazy long wait, and ofc there will be smut. lollipop bit was definitely inspired by the movie hot summer nights except gay and no timothee chalamet jump scare. love you all dearly ♡~ lola

Your 2 vintage suitcases, bursting at the seams, fell to the sidewalk with a thud as you stood in front of your new home for the summer. It was an older house with light blue paneling on the sides, an expansive green lawn, and a wrap-around porch, all surrounded by a classic white picket fence.

Bolting out the front door was the most eager old woman you’d ever seen. Your sweet, sweet grandma. She wrapped you in the biggest embrace and the smell of old Chanel perfume and Jergens lotion overwhelmed your senses. The old woman continued crying out your name pestering you with 1,000 kisses. You erupted in a giggle, expressing the same sentiments of love.

The reason for your stay was less heartwarming. After you had wrapped up your first year at university, your overbearing and uber religious parents caught wind of some of the stuff you were up to while there. In their words, you were “impulsive”, “wreckless”, and “just plain stupid”. But in all actuality, you had just smoked some weed, got wasted, and hooked up with some girls.

Nothing too crazy considering it was your first year of freedom, but of course they flipped and decided banishing you to your grandparents for the summer would be best. And although you were less than ecstatic about them being angry with you, the resulting consequence left you anticipating the perfect summer. I mean come on… a gorgeous old house, right by the beach, home cooked meals, and no one to bother you. How could you not get excited?

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

Soon, you find yourself strolling along hot sidewalks of the small beach town, wandering into every little place that piques your interest. The first was an antique mall. You ventured through the heaps of knick knacks, furniture, and clothes, finally landing on the sweetest tea cup. It was delicate ivory with a thinly curved handle. Painted on the front; a pair of kittens adorned in pink ribbon. You then stumbled into a 50’s themed sweets shop where you purchased a single cherry flavored lollipop which landed in your mouth as soon as you walked out the door. And finally, you came across a quaint bookshop that was practically begging for you to come inside.

Pushing the old wooden door open you entered, followed by a small melodic bell announcing the new presence. This caught a young individual's attention. Revealing her collection of freckles and short auburn hair, the girl looked up from behind the mahogany counter to greet you. The employee's smile was adorably toothy and the evening sun leaking through the windows made her practically glow. Your eyes remained locked on the girl's face for a little longer than you’d like but it was worth every second.

Candy in hand, you toured the towering shelves of tattered books and baskets of old magazines, not really knowing what you were looking for. And still considerably distracted by the dreamy woman manning the front desk. That is until a loud creak of the floorboards stole you from your reverie and left you face to face with the culprit of these thoughts.

“Hi- uh, did you need help finding anything today?” she questioned, giving you a slow look up and down.

“Hmm I’m not sure yet,” you took a long pause to regain a little sense of decorum, “Got any recommendations for me Ellie?” Her eyes went wide in confusion before you gestured to the silver plate pinned to her shirt, pointing out the obvious. “Your nametag hun.”

“Oh, right” she looked down sheepishly at the pet name, “Ummm let me think…” Her voice trailed off again and you popped the sticky, red lollipop back in your mouth to fidget with as she took a beat to think. After compiling a few books in her mind Ellie opened her mouth to speak but god was it hard. Your intent sucking had her in a trance.

“I think you-you’d probably- like…” Ellie wanted to keep talking, she really did, but your plump lips engulfing the red little ball was extremely distracting. She watched as your spit pooled at the upturned corners of your mouth and coated the hard candy. Every thought she had left her except what her lips would look like wrapped around something else. You took note as her pupils slowly dilated at the simple action and decided to have some fun with the awkward girl who you’d obviously left in a trance.

“Did you want a taste?” Ellie took some hard blinks in disbelief and some reproach, not realizing how conspicuous her stares must have been.

“Uh- like of your…” She pointed and you hummed in confirmation, holding the thin white stick at its base, hovering the candy just inches from her mouth.

“Come onnn, I don’t bite… not unless you want me to.” Ellie’s quick and hot breaths of anticipation tickled the little hairs on your knuckles and you knew exactly what you were doing to her. Eventually she dove into your sweet offer. First with a flat tongue, then her whole mouth closing in on it. The crimson disappeared into her cavity and you twisted at the stick connected, sending an odd sensation across Ellie’s tongue. You quickly snatched it back out and plumpted it back in between your own red stained lips, leaving the girl a flustered mess.

“So what about that book?” you inquired, voice laced with a preformative innocence.

She shook her head to focus, “Uh- right, how about The Bell Jar? Sylvia Plath?”

“That’s actually perfect. It’s been on my list for months now. Which shelf?”

“If you want… I uh, actually have a copy that you can borrow for free.”

“Actually yeah, I’d love that. Thank you.” You gave Ellie a warm smile that sent millions of butterflies through the pits of her stomach, and honestly yours too. She then disappeared to the back with a flash of her green eyes before returning holding a small book bursting with colored tabs.

“Here- I like to annotate,” she chuckled bashfully, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Even better.” Ellie blushed at every word you spoke, sending a nervous hand back to scratch at her neck. “Well, thank you for this. I do have to get home but um- I promise to return it as soon as I’m done.” You shook your clasped hands at her like a praise and departed leaving nothing but a trace of your luscious perfume.

Ellie remained awestruck, replaying that whole scenario back again and saving it for later. Selfishly she wished for you to finish the book in just one night. She couldn't help but miss your pretty face already. And after being the only thing on her mind for the rest of the night, she wasn’t sure how long she could wait to see you again.

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

That evening after Ellie’s shift she retreated to her bedroom with plans to remove you from her thoughts. Controller in hand, she maneuvered through some first person shooter game but lost every round due to her lack of focus. This was frustrating and she went to light some incense hoping to clear her head with a different approach. The brown, bergamot scented stick caught fire before cherrying at the end leaving a trail of smoke behind. Ellie followed it with her eye’s, gaze passing by her window and quickly retreating back as she spotted something out of the ordinary.

The neighbor's familiar window positioned right across from her own was usually shrouded in curtains, hiding the empty bedroom. But today she could see right in, and even better, there was someone just behind the glass. She inched in closer to get a better look and watched as the girl lay on her bed, ass up, feet kicking in the air. Ellie assumed she was talking on the phone from observing her bouts of giggles, but it was hard to tell. Even harder to decipher was who this mystery woman was. Every little mannerism felt oddly familiar and it was driving Ellie crazy. Could you just get off the phone already and turn around?

Yes, you. Who eventually wrapped up the call with your best friend where you had spent 30 minutes gushing about the 5 minute interaction you had with Elllie. “I just have to have her!” you raved through the telephone line, “in fact, I neeeddd her!!”

Night had completely fallen at this point and as so you rolled out of your lying position and peeled off your shirt to change into pjs. You did it right in front of the window too, unknowingly giving Ellie a show.

Next door, the girl's jaw was slack and bottom lip red from her harsh bite. Ellie stared lustfully at your soft seeming skin and gorgeous curves. After getting a better glimpse of your face she knew exactly who you were. And once your top started coming off there was no chance she was looking away now. That is… until she got caught.

As soon as you saw a flash of freckles across the way you dashed to the window almost getting a rug burn from the maneuver. With tits out, (well in a sheer lace bra, so practically out) you slide open the white trimmed aperture and give Ellie the most eager wave, shouting her name along with it. The girl could barely pull herself together as she hesitantly opened up her own window. Was Ellie about to get exiled for being a perv or were you feeling forgiving tonight?

“Ellie?! What the fuck?? Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon!!” You shouted with excitement like a child on Christmas.

“Hi-” she halted her greeting, “wait, I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, it’s ____”

“S’pretty name… I’m glad to see you again.”

“Oh I bet you are. Saw you watching me change Els.” Really you didn’t mind, but something about teasing her got you off.

“Fuck- no, no. I- I wasn’t trying to, just was getting a better look to see if it was actually you. Please don’t be mad, I really am sorry!” You had left her a stuttering mess.

“No need to say sorry,” with a bat of your eyelashes you eased her worries, “you liked what you saw… right?”

The girl squirmed, “Uhh…”

“It’s okay, you can say yes Ellie.” And she quickly did, making the cockiest smirk grow on your face. But, you weren’t an easy girl and you planned to tantalize Ellie with subtle passes until the both of you could hardly resist. So you quickly retreated, wishing Ellie a good night before sealing the window and swiping the curtains shut.

The girl was left a hot mess after it all but trust and believe she had a good night. One with her hands between her thighs and your newly learned name falling from her lips.

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

The next morning you catch the emerald-eyed girl outside mowing her lawn and take this as the perfect opportunity to play some more mind games.

Slipping into the skimpiest bikini you could find, you scampered into the front yard “to tan”. The green lawn tickled the bottoms of your bare feet before you laid out a red and white striped towel to lounge on. Stomach down, facing towards Ellie, the sun beamed on the expanse of your back. Heart shaped sunglasses hugged your face and shielded your eyes as you admired the pretty girl.

She was dressed in some long cut-off jorts and a black wifebeater tank. A newly lit cigarette hung from her mouth carelessly. You loved the way her pec would flex with each push and pull of the mower. Lines of sweat racing down her arms and neck, illuminating every small vein. And god, when she tilted her head up to exhale a puff of smoke, it drove you wild.

Your presence had not gone unnoticed though and neither had your cherry printed swim bottoms that were riding up your cheeks. Ellie continued mowing the lawn but was essentially butchering it, too busy staring at you out of her peripherals. She continued passing over the same barren spots of grass over and over, trying to get a better look of the angel laying just on the other side of the fence.

She’d pause mid push every time you’d reposition yourself just so she could see the little recoil of fat that was your plush thighs and heart shaped ass. Her cigarette had yet to leave her mouth after the first few exhales and your prompt arrival. A long build up of ash was begging to slip off the end and at this point she was just mowing little nubs. The yard was a patchy mess and so was she. This mess escalated as soon as she saw you marching to the edge of the fence straight towards her.

Approaching Ellie you planted your elbows on two white posts that stopped at your torso. You shouted out to the sweaty girl, waving her in your direction and she immediately scurried over like an obedient puppy.

“Whatcha smoking?” you questioned, causing Ellie to remember the all-ash cigarette, now between her fingers, being rid of its debris.

“Shit, I’m sorry- do you not like the smoke? I can stop, seriously.” She put out the remaining butt frantically in attempts at atonement.

“Lighten up Els, I don’t care if you smoke. I was just gonna ask to bum one off of you, but I only smoke Marlboros. That menthol shit gives me a headache.” She softened in relief, already pulling out a fresh one just for you.

“That’s crazy, I’m the same exact way. Here, it’s all yours” Ellie attempts to put the cigarette in your hand but you part your lips instead, requesting a different placement. She happily fulfills your request and follows with a silver, square shaped lighter. The flame catches at the end as you take a big inhale, blowing it to the side.

“Thanks, you have no idea how much I needed that. I’ve been cold turkey over here at Grams. Couldn’t even sneak a smoke from her either, she swears by Newports. Truly disgusting if you ask me.” You rolled your eyes, rambling on about your stay and Ellie just listened. She tried piecing together your story from the little tidbits you mentioned but still struggled to understand how you ended up here.

“So you’re just staying with your grandparents for the summer?”

“Yeah pretty much.” you answered nonchalantly.

“How come though? I’ve never seen you here until now. Trust me, I would’ve noticed a pretty girl like you.” she blushed.

“Oh yeah? You think I’m pretty?” you taunted, completely ignoring the question at hand. You weren’t sure how ready you were to spill those beans yet. Ellie gave off such an awkward loser vibe that left you questioning how much of you the girl could really handle. I mean, it seemed like you were already too much for your own parents and beginning to piss off the elders too. And speak of the devil, they arrived home just in time to steal you from Ellie’s company.

“Babygirl, what are you doing bothering the neighbors?” your grandma called out, making you turn all hot and embarrassed in front of Ellie. Up until now you had managed to keep up the perfect cool girl vibe. The thought that Ellie might not be enjoying this as much as you perceived had never even crossed your mind. But now that it had, your confidence was knocked down a notch.

“Grams-” You turned to excuse her politely but were cut off before you even got the chance.

“Is that a cigarette young lady?”

“Umm.. yes…” you hesitated before swiftly putting it out on one of the wooden posts.

“Now where did you get a thing like that?” she prodded, arms crossed. Your eyes glanced over to Ellie but you decided to lie, knowing how your grandparents would react. You’d rather get into trouble than risk losing access to your new favorite girl.

“I swear it was just rolling around in one of the dresser drawers upstairs. I shouldn’t have taken it, but I did and I’m really really sorry. Please can we not mention this?”

The old woman took a beat to consider your request, “Fine. But hand it over, I need a smoke, the ladies over at bingo this morning were driving me absolutely crazy.” You passed over the cigarette and thanked her and the heavens for sparing you. If your parents found out about any more wrong doings, you knew you’d be done for good, and deep down you believed that Grams had recognized the same threat.

Just over the fence, Ellie had witnessed the whole thing and was left even more intrigued. All this over a cigarette? Mention what to who? But just as she was exiled out of the conversation, Ellie was quickly brought back in.

“So hun, you seem pretty handy if I’m not mistaken.”

“Uh, yes ma’am I guess I am.” Ellie fidgeted, not sure where this conversation was going. Hoping not to get scorned by the wrath you had brought on from the whole cigarette debacle.

“Well, we’ve got a couple of loose fence posts around the perimeter. I’ve been pleading with my husband to get it done but the old fart can hardly handle walking the block, let alone hard manual labor. You think you could help us out? I’ll give ya 50 bucks for it.” Ellie looked at your grandma, then you, and back to Grams again.

“Sure, but I don’t need your money. I’ll happily do it free of charge.”

“Well mighty me, thank you very much!” your grandma elated, nudging at you to give thanks as well. You smiled at the girl and then mouthed a little sorry, feeling bad for wrapping her up in all of this. She waved you off, not thinking twice about her choice to help out. Anything to get closer to you, right?

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

That evening you stood in the kitchen, occasionally grabbing out a bowl or passing over an ingredient as your grandma fixed dinner. You sipped from a tall, clear glass of lemonade and looked through the window hoping to catch a glimpse of Ellie in action.

Noticing your staring, Grams spoke up, “Why don’t you go bring the girl some lemonade to cool off, yeah? In fact, go on ahead and invite her to dinner since she refuses to be paid. Got to say thank you somehow.” Your heart skipped a beat imagining the beautiful girl sat at the dining table.

It was almost scary, every interaction you’d had so far was just casual flirts in passing. This would be the real deal and on top of it, your grandparents would be right there with you. Very, very scary. But there was no arguing this one, so out you went with an endearing proposal and a freshly poured glass of lemonade, all for Ellie.

“Here, I got this for you. It’s homemade.” You ushered the cup forwards to sweaty Ellie and she gratefully accepted with a thank you. You then awkwardly popped the question.

“Sooo… my grandparents want me to invite you over for dinner. As a thank you.” Ellie looked up from her work again trying to read your tone.

“Do you want me over for dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah of course I do. It’s just, you know how it is with family.” You kicked at some dirt that was loosened by the yard work, voiding Ellie’s gaze. It’s not like you didn’t want to see her but how could you trust your grandparents to keep up the mystery. Flirting felt so easy when all the vulnerable parts of yourself had yet to surface.

“I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to. I’d hate to cause any problems.” You quickly backpedaled, afraid she might take your words the wrong way.

“No, no, not at all. Please. Come. I want you there.”

“Okay, then I will be. Let me finish up out here, take a quick shower, and I’ll be over.”

✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -

Ellie had taken 30 minutes to come back, making it just in time. 20 of those minutes were spent just rummaging through clothes and messing with her hair, too nervous to think about punctuality. She wanted to look good for you, and even more she wanted to impress your family.

At Ellie’s arrival you opened the door dressed in the shortest little sundress. The pale yellow complimented your skin just perfectly and Ellie wanted to tell you so bad but nerves got the best of her. All she could do was smile and turn 5 different shades of red, matching the rust colored Dickie’s and loose button up shirt that adorned her figure.

“Well, well, well… don’t you clean up nice?” You poked at Ellie’s right arm and she humored you with a shy laugh before putting her head down to shield from embarrassment. Ellie had always been somewhat of a loser but never had she ever met a girl that could leave her this much of a mess with just a few words.

You then led her into the dining room, both of you taking a seat across from Gram and Gramps at the other end of the table.

“We’re so happy we could have you over for supper Ellie. I know we don’t mingle much but your father and you have always been such good neighbors.” Your grandpa gushed as Grams nodded along but there was a slight lull before Ellie actually responded. Maybe the mention of her dad? You weren’t sure.

“Well, thank you for having me. It’s always nice to have some company around here.” There was something regretful in her eyes as she said it but the conversation quickly progressed past the moment, leaving you curious for the rest of the night.

“So how’s school been going for you?” the pair asked.

“It’s been really good. Going into my second year actually.” Ellie answered, putting it simply as she knew this was all formalities and small talk. Even you were beginning to get a little bored with the dry conversation. So you decided to spice things up for the both of you, sliding off your strappy sandals to see how far you could take a game of footsies.

“Oh wow! ____ is too! What’s your major?” Gramps continued. Your bare foot slid over to Ellie’s beat up sneakers waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

“I’m an en-” Her voice cut out as you creeped up the edge of her pants, rubbing on her exposed ankle. She coughed trying to recover, “I’m an engineering major.” You had to bite the inside of your cheek to not let out an audible laugh.

“How wonderful!” Grams enthused, blissfully unaware. Having too much fun, you then slid your hand a chair over to drag down Ellie’s thigh and felt as she tensed up.

The conversation continued at a steady pace and you removed your hand, not wanting to take things too far. Unexpectedly Ellie grabbed it, moving your limb back to its place and keeping her own hand rested on top. A big move considering just minutes ago she couldn’t even muster up the courage to compliment your dress.

You took this as permission to proceed and a simple resting hand turned to a grabby one, gripping at her inner thigh. Teasing the girl to incomparable lengths. She eventually followed in suit, slipping a few fingers under the hem of your dress just slightly before shying away at the dinner's conclusion. And even with such little touch, you were still absolutely soaking.

If only your grandparents knew what was going on under the table.

✄ - - - - part 2 - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

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blissfullyapillow · 4 months

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┆I’ve loved you from the start

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Neuvillette x fem reader

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ wc: 10,483~

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Prompt: pinning, pinning, and more pinning. Wait, it’s mutual?! Oh, your heart can’t take this… “Oh how I’d wish you’d wake up one day, run to me confess your love at least just let me say, That when I talk to you, Oh cupid walks right through, And shoots an arrow to my heart…. Oh the burning pain... Don’t you dare look at me that way..”

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ warnings: fluff, slowburn, mutual pinning, lots of Fontaine characters make an appearance, reader is referred to as Name instead of Y/N but same thought applies (reader insert)

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Pillow Talks: Hi guys! I’ve spent the last few days writing this, and I have to say I’m in love with how it turned out! I had to do my man justice (get it?) with a fic I can be proud of. Anyway, I really hope someone can find joy and comfort from this fic. As a side note, yes this fic was inspired by the song From the Start, by Laufey. The specific lines stated in the prompt is what really inspired me to write this. Regarding Neuvillette, I tried to be as lore accurate as possible here haha. I wish you all a wonderful holiday season. Stay safe out there. With much love, Pillow ‹𝟹

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Masterlist

Credits: sillyakito on pinterest

I tap an impatient finger against my knee as I take a slow survey of my surroundings. Everyone is patiently seated, although animated whispers reach your ears as citizens anxiously wait for the trial to begin.

I don’t know what to expect…

As the people beside me engage in idle chatter, I take a deep breath to mentally prepare myself. My friend convinced me to attend one of Fontaine’s public trails, insisting it was a rite of passage as a new citizen of Fontaine.

Unfortunately for the both of us, they came down with a cold the day before the trial. I would’ve loved if they could accompany me, but I’m here nonetheless.

Another quick glance around the courtroom sets my nerves on end. I’m fine with huge crowds but at times they can feel suffocating. My finger tapping increases in speed as my thoughts begin to spiral.

Before my thoughts can completely spiral out of control, a loud sound catches the attention of everyone in the room.

There, sitting before everyone in a comically large chair, is the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Something that is no small feat in the world of Teyvat.

He has a commanding presence; there’s something about him that makes it difficult to pry my eyes away. He situates himself before the people of Fontaine, and before long the trial is well underway.

I wind up being swept up in the moment; I’m heavily invested in this case. I close my eyes for a moment, playing detective to deduce whom the culprit is.

The majority of the attending party is not as quiet as I’d prefer them to be; It’s hard to think when everyone is so rowdy.

“Oh my, did you hear that? She’s definitely guilty!” “Disgusting.” “Who? Her? I doubt it was her! Do you not see the remorse on her face? Oh, what poor soul…”

…

aha, that’s it!

I open my eyes with a triumphant expression. I’ve determined who the culprit is. At least, I think so. Now to wait and see.

“Order!” The man before the citizens of Fontaine slams what appears to be a cane to the ground. The room is immediately engulfed in silence.

I gaze at him in awe.

The man, who I now know is the Iudex of Fontaine, talks through his deductions before a machine generates the final verdict.

I silently cheer since I successfully determined the culprit.

Overall, I’d say this was a valuable experience. There are definitely some prominent flaws in how trials are viewed and the implemented system. Of course that was only one trial and I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, but something about the fate of another being viewed as entertainment just doesn’t sit right with me.

With my head in the clouds, I don’t pay attention to where I’m going.

Well, not until I accidentally bump into something.

A small “omph!” comes out of whatever I bumped into. That’s weird. Why would an inanimate object make a—

The sudden realization that I bumped into someone dawns on me. I’m quick to bow my head in embarrassment.

“Sorry! I wasn’t paying attention..” I hope they aren’t mad!

I blink my eyes open when I hear nothing, and I find myself face to face with a Melusine.

“It’s no problem. We can all be clumsy at times.” The Melusine smiles at me; it’s the most heartwarming smile to ever grace my eyes.

I can feel the way my heart melts as the Melusine continues to smile at me, although she tilts her head in confusion.

Oh, I haven’t responded to her yet!

“You’re right. Still, I’m so sorry for bumping into you.” A sheepish smile lifts my lips. The Melusine sighs as they shake their head in dismay.

“Oh dear. You remind me an awful lot of Monsieur Neuvillette. He tends to over apologize for things when it comes to us.” This time, I’m the one tilting my head in confusion.

“Monsieur… Neuvillette? … Did I say that right?” The Melusine nods her confirmation, although she seems a bit surprised by my confusion. Why, though? “Are you new to fontaine?” She asks. When I slowly nod my head in confirmation, her eyes sparkle with an emotion I can’t pinpoint.

“Ah, I see. Well, my name is Sedene. It is very nice to meet you.” Sedene holds out her hand for a friendly shake, and it takes everything in me not to squeal over how adorable she is.

I haven’t lived in Fontaine for long, but all of the Melusine have my heart. They are all so sweet with their own personalities, it’s hard not to have a soft spot for them! They especially helped me out with navigating the city when I first arrived, their eyes devoid of judgment or apprehension when communicating with me.

Sedene tilts her head at me once more, and it takes me a moment to realize I haven’t responded yet… again.

My face warms in embarrassment.

Why do I keep getting lost in thought today?

I smile at her as I extend my hand, and we shake. “So, what’s your name?” She asks me. “Name.” Is my response.

She considers my answer, trying the name out on her own. “Name… it sounds pretty.” Sedene’s thoughtful comment causes my smile to morph into a grin. “Not as pretty as Sedene! Still, thank you.” I bend down to my knees to be at eye level with her.

I notice her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t seem to take offense to my action. If anything, she seems overjoyed. “Y/N, have you met Monsieur Neuvillette yet?” I shake my head no in response to her question.

“Monsieur… Neuvillette…,” Sedene nods again to confirm I have said the name correctly as I speak, “..Who is he?”

She blinks her eyes owlishly, before she bursts into a fit of giggles.

I’m a bit taken aback, but I find myself joining in on the laughter. Once Sedene stops laughing she gestures for me to follow her. I oblige her request as she begins to skip away.

Before I know it Sedene has led me to a new area, and now I stand before a large door. Sedene politely knocks before a voice from inside calls out, “Come in.”

Huh, why does that voice sound so familiar?

My question is quickly answered once Sedene pushes the door open and I follow her inside.

Sitting before the both of us, at his desk, is none other than the beautiful Iudex of Fontaine.

Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette!

everything clicks for me, and I find myself feeling a bit overwhelmed.

I’m standing before such a prominent figure in Fontaine! With no appointment or anything! I’m sure you need to schedule an appointment to see someone like him, right?

Is there some sort of etiquette I should follow here?

I break out into a nervous sweat as Sedene introduces me.

“I hope I am not imposing on your work Monsieur, but I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is Y/N, and she is a new citizen of Fontaine.” I shyly wave and offer a smile as Monsieur Neuvillette fixes his gaze on me.

Archons, my heart is pounding!

…

He remains silent.

I catch sight of his curious eyes roaming my figure, before they leave me to return to Sedene.

A soft, warm expression takes over his features as he communicates with her.

It makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.

“You are fine, Sedene. I was just about to take a break from all of this paperwork anyway.” He speaks in a very refined manner, but his tone is more relaxed than it was in court. Obviously that’s to be expected, but still.

“Well hello Name, you can refer to me as Monsieur Neuvillette. Thank you for being good company to Sedene.” The Iudex of Fontaine now stands. He makes his way over to us.

I scramble my brain for a dignified response since the only fact in my mind is that I’ll be able to see his pretty features up close.

Oh,

He’s coming closer.

He’s standing in front of me now.

Damn, he’s even more handsome up close.

“Hmm?” He hums, prompting me for something. But what could it—?

Oh, yeah. I need to respond.

I open my mouth to thank him for his generosity, maybe even congratulate him on how smooth the trial seemed to go today.

Unfortunately, he chooses that moment to glance at Sedene, and he chuckles at whatever he sees.

Oh, my heart.

…

“Yeah.” Is my blunt, ineloquent response.

Oh ARCHONS why is that the only word that came out of my mouth?

He seems a bit taken aback by my lack of a response, but then he smiles.

At me.

He chuckles once more, and he lifts his hand. He moves his hand in my direction, and my entire body stiffens. His fingers grace my cheek.

My heart stops.

“You had something there. Do not worry, I have removed it.” Monsieur Neuvillette tilts his head in a polite gesture, a warm smile on his face as he retracts his hand.

I forget to feel embarrassed since I just had THE beautiful Iudex of Fontaine touch my cheek.

“Thank you..” I murmur, sounding a bit more eloquent this time.

“You are quite welcome. How long has it been since you’ve arrived in Fontaine? Do you hail from Liyue?” Neuvillette’s eyes roam my form once more as the realization dawns on me.

He’s studying my clothes, since I’m not wearing clothing native to Fontaine.

“Ah, yes. I just moved here recently. From Liyue.” When the word ‘Liyue’ leaves my lips, Neuvillette’s expression shifts for the briefest of moments.

It’s subtle, but I notice the quick frown that turns his gorgeous lips upside down, before they resume their neutral position.

“I see. Well, there are many things to enjoy in Fontaine. I hope you find Fontaine to be a suitable new home for you.” He sounds sincere, and it makes me happy.

“Thank you Monsieur.” I twiddle my fingers as my gaze leaves his face, to look around the room.

I assume this is his office.

There are shelves in the room, huge as they are, and there are two piles of paperwork on his work desk.

Sedene strikes up a conversation with Neuvillette, but I tune it out.

That is, until my name is brought up again.

“So, what do you say, Name? Does that sound like something that’s of interest to you?” I whip my head around to look at him, and his gaze is as fierce as it is intense.

Uh, what was the question?

He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can I interrupt. “Y-Yes! Sure, that sounds wonderful…” I chuckle nervously, hoping he doesn’t realize I didn’t catch his question.

He smirks at my response.

“So you don’t know what I have asked of you, yet you agree nonetheless? You are proving to be an intriguing individual Name. I shall see you here tomorrow then. Promptly in the morning, at 9, and not a moment later.” He turns then, walking back to his desk.

“Yes.” Is the only response I’m capable of mustering.

Oh my.. wait, did I say my question out loud earlier?

I watch as he sits down at his desk once more, that same smirk on his lips as he returns to work.

“Thank you for introducing us, Sedene. I shall see you tomorrow.” Sedene happily waves goodbye to Monsieur Neuvillette, and I hastily follow suit.

We leave Monsieur Neuvillette to his work, and Sedene happily bids me farewell outside of his door. “It seems you’ve intrigued Monsieur Neuvillette. That is not an easy feat (Name). I shall see you here tomorrow. At 9 o'clock okay? Don’t be late.” Sedene moves in to give me a hug, and I quickly bend down to return it.

As I leave the Court of Fontaine, I’m in a daze.

What did I just get myself into?

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

It’s 8:50. I am most definitely not running late to my surprise meeting with the chief justice of Fontaine.

On the contrary, I’ve arrived early!

Too bad my sense of direction isn’t serving me well..

“Um, excuse me? Do you know where I can find Monsieur Neuvillette’s office?” I kindly ask a Melusine I stumble upon.

They generously agree, and soon I’m led to the same door I stood before the previous day.

I check the time. It’s 8:57 now. How fortunate.

“Thank you so much!” I gratefully give my thanks to the Melusine before me. I bend down to give her a hug, and she accepts. “No worries. Thank you, (Name). It’s been a long time since Monsieur Neuvillette allowed himself to be involved with another person.” Oh?

Before I can ask the Melusine to elaborate, the door to Neuvillette’s office suddenly opens.

I look up, and he stands tall and proud above us. He awkwardly coughs into his fist as he glances at us. “Name. I’m glad you could make it.”

I take that as my Que to rise and properly stand in front of him. I discreetly wave goodbye to the Melusine as she skips away. When I turn back to face Neuvillette, he has a glint in his eyes.

I can only hope to decipher what it means.

He moves to stand beside me outside of his office, closing the door firmly behind him.

“Now, are you ready to begin?” I feel a sudden burst of energy surge through me, jumping up in excitement. “Yes! I’ll admit, I have no idea what we’re doing and I usually don’t wake up this early, but I’m ready!”

My words clearly take him by surprise, as his whole body stiffens and his gorgeous eyes widen.

“My… you sure are full of surprises.” He sounds smug about it for whatever reason, but I take it as a compliment.

“Sedene had asked me to show you around Fontaine, since you are new to this nation. Normally, this is not an activity someone of my.. position.. would partake in with a citizen. So count yourself lucky, as it was Sedene who requested it.” I eagerly nod my head in approval, and a shy “thank you,” leaves my lips.

He only nods, noticeably turning his head to look elsewhere.

He was struggling to contain his smile.

“Let us be on our way then. There is much to show you, while the day is still young.” So with that, Monsieur Neuvillette guides me out of the Palais Mermonia, which he later explains is the name of the building his office is located in, to show me the sights of Fontaine.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Neuvillette proves to be a wonderful tour guide, though I didn’t expect any less from him. He points out famous shops that the citizens rave about, making a point to mention Chioriya Boutique, run by a famous fashion designer from Inazuma. My eyes sparkle as I catch glimpses of the clothes, but Neuvillette is quick to continue our tour.

I can’t help but pout as we continue on. My eyes struggle to leave a particular piece that has caught my eye. Little did I know, Neuvillette was all too aware.

As we continue our impromptu tour, we run into many people who are familiar with Neuvillette. Each and every one of them express genuine surprise at seeing him out and about, especially with someone they’ve never seen before.

A famous magician, Lyney, performs a magic trick for us as his assistant Lynette silently stands beside him. I politely applaud, enjoying the cool trick he managed to pull off.

Halfway through the tour Neuvillette stops me. He pointedly looks towards a building a few feet ahead of us. My confusion morphs into one of delight as a girl runs out from behind it, quickly swarming Neuvillette as she asks for an interview for what apparently is the third time that week.

Later on, nearing the end of the tour, we run into a tall, beautiful lady. Neuvillette introduces her as the Champion Duelist, Clorinde. To say I'm starstruck is an understatement. She seems a bit stoic, but a subtle smile remained on her lips as she questioned what Neuvillette was doing with a citizen of Fontaine.

I giggle as he slowly becomes more flustered with Clorinde’s obvious teasing, briskly walking off as he bids her a quick farewell soon after. She smirks, turning her gaze to me. I smile at her, and she nods politely before she continues on her way.

Our tour ends with a chance meeting, with none other than the Archon herself.

Well, if the whispers you heard are true, then former Archon… ish? I don’t know the whole story, and it honestly sounds complicated. I don’t particularly care to know the details, as I give Furina a friendly wave of the hand. She stops to greet the two of us. She almost looks like she wants to ask Neuvillette what everyone has already, but she refrains from doing so, quickly entering her house with what appeared to be boxes of macaroni in her arms.

…

I think it’s better not to ask.

With that, my tour of Fontaine with Neuvillette concludes. The two of us return to our starting position, back to the Palais Mermonia. Neuvillette’s expression is hard to read as the two of you stand in front of his office door. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. Or, well, I’m not sure if it was entirely for me but either way I appreciate it! I got to meet a lot of cool people, although some of them made me nervous with how cool they seem…” You chuckle as you express your thanks.

“No need to thank me. I actually enjoyed myself quite a bit.” You both send a smile in the other’s direction, before an awkward silence ensues.

Luckily, you believe you’re good at handling these. “Um.. so, until we see each other again?” You extend your hand for a shake. He looks taken aback for a moment before he reaches out towards you, shaking your hand.

“Until we meet again, Name. Truly, you are a lovely individual.” He politely nods, smiling at you before he turns, entering his office.

His back is turned as the door shuts behind him.

Thank goodness.

You quickly place your hand over your heart, as the organ beneath your chest pounds violently against your ribcage.

Archons, how did you manage to walk beside him all day long? He’s genuinely an intriguing individual, and you enjoyed the various expressions he made. From a look of exasperation with the young reporter Charlotte, to looks of endearment as some Melusine waved to him when they spotted him, to an adorable look of embarrassment as Clorinde took it upon herself to extensively question his motives.

A soft look paints your features. Your cheeks, along with your heart, feels so warm.

You take your time leaving the Palais Mermonia.

Your only wish is that you’re able to meet Monsieur Neuvillette once more, even if your wish is quite far-fetched and impractical.

Who knew a rainy day would be the thing to grant your wish?

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I hold my umbrella above my head. This rainy weather is quite fitting for today; after that trial I just witnessed, anyone would be sad.

I roll my shoulders as I attempt to work out the kink in my neck. I stayed behind as the other citizens slowly filed out of the courtroom. The verdict weighs heavy on my chest. It was a tough case to watch, and it pained me to see the grief stricken look that crossed Neuvillette’s features as he announced the defendant guilty.

I sat alone in the vast courtroom to give myself time to absorb everything that occurred. It almost felt like too much, but then again, I’ve always been one to put myself in others shoes even when it doesn’t directly affect me.

I shiver; it’s getting quite cold with this heavy downpour.

My gaze shifts to the sky. Although the circumstances were not ideal, I can’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over me as the rain splatters to the ground. A raindrop drips down from my colorful umbrella, splashing to the ground before my feet.

I’ve always loved the rain. Sometimes it can be a bit of a nuisance, but even so, there was something so beautiful about it. I adore all kinds of weather, but rainy weather has always held a special place in my heart. It calms me enough to sleep during late nights; it makes what would’ve been an ordinary night cozier and a bit special.

Nothing soothes me more than the gentle, or rough, splatter of raindrops against my window.

My thoughts drift back to the present as my eyes come into focus. Whoops, I was daydreaming again.

I glance around, hoping no one spotted me zoned out, when my eyes connect with a familiar pair of dark blue-purple slit eyes. Said eyes widen, before they visibility soften. He takes long strides towards me, and my heart flips in my chest.

‘Act cool, Name. Act cool,’ My thoughts warn me.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Neuvillette.” I cringe at my choice of words, internally berating myself for sounding cheesy.

“It is lovely to see you again as well, Miss Y/N.” Neuvillette smiles courteously in my direction, before his gaze shifts towards the sky. “Ah, my apologies. This heavy rain must be quite an inconvenience for you.” I glance at him, with what I’m sure is confusion on my features. Why is he apologizing for the rain?

It’s not like he’s the one causing it.

“No need to apologize for something that isn’t your fault Monsieur.” I’m not sure if I’m imagining the way his body winces.

“No, no… ahem–” He awkwardly coughs into his fist, cheeks warm as he looks elsewhere.

Huh. How odd.

I shake my head to get myself back on topic.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, do you have an umbrella?” My question draws his gaze in my direction. I suck in a sharp intake of breath at the intensity within his gaze.

“No, but do not worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He dismisses my concerns, stepping forward to walk in the rain. “It was nice seeing you again–” He pauses, glancing at his side. There I stand beside him, stubbornly holding the umbrella over his head.

He sighs.

“Y/n, I was honest when I said–” “I don’t care. I mean–” I catch myself, reminding myself Neuvillette is a respectable man that I can’t talk carelessly with as if he were a friend. “I mean… I understand. Still, please let me walk with you. I may be imagining it, but you do not seem well. I imagine a trial like that would make anyone feel ill. Not to mention you were the one presiding over the whole ordeal…” I’m a bit nervous that I’m overstepping my boundaries, but I figure it’s worth a shot.

Monsieur Neuvillette looks startled as he stares at me. I shift my weight from foot to foot, feeling awkward once more.

He suddenly looks away. Silence continues our conversation; with a gentle grasp of his hand, he removes the umbrella from my hand to hold it above the both of us.

“Please, let me repay your kindness.” I nod, following him as we walk side by side through the torrential onslaught of rain.

It isn’t long before we enter what appears to be an indoor cafe, ducking inside. Neuvillette closes my umbrella before he hands it back to me. I whisper my thanks, following closely behind as we find empty seats.

“Is there anything you’d like to try?” Neuvillette gestures to the menu in front of me. I feel bad, but I can’t resist looking over the menu. Scanning the various sweet items, my mouth begins to water. “This looks so good! Oh, but this does too. Hmm, maybe I want to try this…” I talk to myself, temporarily forgetting that Neuvillette is sitting in front of me. A sudden burst of laughter startles me, and I quickly place the menu down as I watch Neuvillette.

His eyes are crinkled, his hand running through his hair as he laughs unexpectedly.

Stop it, heart.

He quickly composes himself, chuckling to myself. “You certainly seem eager. Please, order what you want. It’s on me.” I open my mouth immediately to protest, but he speaks before I can utter a single objection.

“The only thing I want to hear from those lips is what you want to order.”

Archons.

This man will be the death of me.

So, I oblige, telling Neuvillette my order before he promptly stands to leave, ruffling my hair as he passes.

My face burns.

There’s simply no way he said that to me. No way. Nada. Zlitch.

Except…

I know what I heard.

Augghhhh.

I roughly put my head in my hands as I will my heart to calm down. You barely know the man, he didn’t mean it like that… yet..

I’m in trouble.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Neuvillette returns with my requested order, and I know my eyes must shine with horribly contained excitement. “Do not wait for me, go ahead and…” He struggles to contain his laughter when I don’t even wait for him to finish speaking, happily devouring the treat before me.

He returns a minute later with my requested drink, just to see an empty plate. He really struggles not to chuckle. “Don’t laugh. I see it on your face, mister.” I warn. “Whatever do you mean, Miss Y/n? I would never laugh at a lady enjoying a sweet treat.” His tone is smug, accompanied by a grin. He places my drink in front of me before he sits in front of me once more. I pout at his obvious teasing, but decide to let it slide.

“Say, where’d you get the fancy glass? What’s in it?” I’m curious, leaning a bit closer in hopes of catching a glimpse at the context.

“Ah, this? It is simply water, my drink of choice.” He looks all too elegant as he swirls the glass in his hand before he takes a long sip.

Your eyes are glued to his person.

I should feel embarrassed at my shameless staring, really, but the sight before me is too beautiful to pass up.

The moment his eyes begin to open once he’s finished savoring the taste, I avert my eyes so fast it’s comical.

Unbeknownst to you, he witnessed the whole thing.

He won’t out you though, you’ve treated him with kindness by sharing your umbrella and he can only tease you so much.

“Anyway, are you feeling better?” I ask. He looks confused for a moment as I take a sip of my drink. You can see the moment it clicks for him, his eyes visibly widening in recognition.

“Oh… yes… I.. am…” He seems completely taken aback by that revelation; it’s all too cute. “I’m glad. I know it mustn’t be easy presiding over cases, but you really do such an important job. I’m sure many are grateful that of all the people in Teyvat, it’s you whose the Iudex of Fontaine.” My words are sincere as I relay my honest feelings to him, closing my eyes as I take another delightful sip of the coffee I ordered.

This taste is absolutely divine. I haven’t had coffee that tastes this good in so long.

I keep my eyes closed as I savor the taste, slowly opening them.

Just to find Neuvillette staring intently at my features.

To be fair, I did the same thing to him moments before, but gosh this feels embarrassing. I hope I wasn’t making a weird face!

I quickly avert my eyes, looking down at the table as I struggle to contain my smile, surely making an utterly goofy expression.

I hear Nevuillette’s gentle laugh.

I slowly look up to see such a delicate look on his face; archons, I’ve always wanted to be on the receiving end of a gaze like this. Now that I am, I feel all too overwhelmed, yet simultaneously all too.. Elated.

I giggle; it bursts out of me like a spoiler to a movie bursts from the lips of another. Neuvillette catches himself, coughing awkwardly into his fist, a habit I’ve realized he has, before he looks down at the table.

Now, we both look silly huh?

I smile to myself.

I’m glad I was able to help him relax…

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

We step outside once more. I’m prepared to share my umbrella with him, whether he wants to or not!

Thankfully, that isn’t needed. We both look to the now clear skies, as the stars twinkle above. It seems particularly easy to spot them tonight, not a cloud or raindrop in sight.

I cheer.

“Look, Neuvillet- Monsieur! It’s stopped raining!” I excitedly point to the dreamscape of a sky, before I turn to face Neuvillette.

I falter at the fragility of his gaze; he’s as still as a marble statue carved to perfection, his fixed expression conveying a tempest of emotion as he longingly looks to the sky.

“It’s over…” The words are murmured under his breath. My own leaves in quiet gasp, completely rooting me to the spot as his pulchritudinous expression holds me captive.

A few moments of silence pass between the two of us, both of us admiring different things, yet they are entirely the same at the root. He slowly lowers his gaze to return to mine once more, and they hold me at his every beck and call, as they always seem to do.

“Ah.. my apologies. I was lost in thought.” He smiles, turning his body to face me. “I appreciate the time we spent together today. I hope to see you again soon, Y/n.” His words cause my heart to flutter with an undeniable yearning that shouldn’t be there.

Yet, my heart longs for the man standing before me, it performs somersaults in my chest as he moves, ready to part ways.

“By the way, you can refer to me as Neuvillette.” His statement is simple, yet it holds so much weight.

He nods in lieu of saying farewell, his steps echo throughout the quiet streets of Fontaine as he makes his way to his destination.

I can only clutch my chest as I watch him leave, embedded to the spot long after his figure disappears from my line of sight.

Oh, Archons.

What have I gotten myself into?

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

My eyes unconsciously wander to the door once more, waiting for a hand to pry it open from the inside.

I hear giggles beside me, and I can only groan as I get caught red-handed in the act for the fifth time this evening.

“Name, Monsieur Neuvillette’s meeting should be ending soon.” A sweet Melusine whispers into my ear. I can only muster a meek nod, returning my attention back to the task at hand.

I’m waiting with a few Melusine, Sedene among us, as Neuvillette finishes his very important meeting.

I wandered into the Palais Mermonia of my own volition, just to find out that Neuvillette is occupied in a meeting. I planned on leaving after I heard the news, but a few Melusine nearby seemed to recognize me and asked me to sit with them.

Lo and behold, I’m here learning how to weave a flower crown with fellow Melusine as we wait outside of Neuvillette’s office.

“You’re doing great Name. Is this really your first time weaving a flower crown?” Sedene’s curious question boosts my confidence. “Yes, it is! I’m glad I’m doing so well that you felt the need to ask that.” Sedene happily nods beside me, before she skips away to tend to something.

I concentrate on weaving the final piece; my trembling fingers complete the flower crown.

The group of us let out a collective cheer, before we quickly quiet down when Sedene scolds us. We are just right outside Nevuillette’s office after all.

“It looks so pretty! Look at the one I weaved.” A Melusine holds her flower crown up for me to see. It’s much more intricate than mine, but I only feel a swell of pride as I give her my honest praise.

Suddenly, we hear voices from behind the door. My leg starts to bounce as my eyes remain fixated on the door, waiting for the moment it’ll open.

I don’t have to wait long, mere moments later the door opens slowly, and Neuvillette’s guest is escorted out of the room. They wave to him, a short blonde with a floaty… thingy. Is that a toy or a person?

I almost want to rub my eyes to make sure I’m seeing things correctly, but I figure it’s best not to question it. I often encounter many creatures and people I wouldn’t expect, but they’re usually a delight in their own unique way.

The blonde traveler and their companion spot all of us sitting together. They seem like they want to come over. They place one foot in front of them before the small floating child beside them interrupts, loudly proclaiming “Paimon is hungry! We’ve gone way too long without food!” The blonde traveler stops and simply smiles, waving in our direction. All of the Melusines wave back in friendly greeting. Well, if they’re friends with Melusines then I see no reason to be cautious. I join the rest of my companions in waving. The blonde traveler winds up chasing the floating thing as they dash towards the exit.

Huh. What an.. Interesting encounter.

My thoughts are interrupted when the person I’ve wanted to see most finally emerges from his office. I feel my jaw go slack as I stare in his direction.

He has yet to notice me, so I take the opportunity to admire him. My eyes trace over his form, going painstakingly slow as they admire his length waist white hair. They settle on the adorable ribbon holding his hair in place. I tilt my head, noticing the almost horn like accessories adorning his head. I wonder what that really is? It suits him, but I wonder if..

All my thoughts come to a halt when he finally turns, and his bewitching orbs hold mine hostage.

I couldn’t look away even if I willed it; nothing regarding his appearance has changed, but it’s almost as if.. The scenery, the world around me has grown more vibrant in color.

The pounding in my chest feels surreal as he smiles at us. He takes slow and deliberate steps in our direction, curiously eyeing the flower crowns in our hands.

“Name, you may want to close your mouth.” Someone whispers in my ear.

I immediately close it, feeling all too embarrassed.

Uh..

It’s not use. I can’t formulate a single thought.

I dumbly watch as Neuvillette finally reaches us, engaging in pleasant conversation with the girls around me. I pointedly look down, fiddling with the crown in my hands. What if he scolds me for being here, and distracting the Melusine from their duties? I’d hate for them to get in trouble because of me, or to be on the receiving end of Neuvillette’s disappointed gaze.

“Name. What has your mind so occupied that you didn’t notice me sitting down beside you?” Saying I jump in my seat is an understatement.

I’m startled, jerking before I turn to gaze into those mesmerizing orbs once more. I giggle awkwardly before I raise the flower crown in my hands. His gaze finally leaves mine, looking at the object in my hands.

I’m relieved he’s finally stopped looking at me, but I can’t help but feel a bit sad as well.

What is wrong with me!?

I close my eyes and take a grounding deep breath in.

When they open once more, I feel much more composed. “Neuvillette, these girls showed me how to make a flower crown.” I hear words of agreement as the Melusine all speak up at once. “Yes, and Name has done a wonderful job.” “She’s great company, Monsieur.” “Monsieur, do you want to join us?” “Why don’t you try hers on Monsieur Neuvillette?” Neuvillette laughs, holding up his hand with the onslaught of comments.

“Ah, I see. I’m glad to hear it. I know firsthand how lovely her company is. I’d be delighted to join you all. I do not mind trying Name’s flower crown, as long as she is okay with it.” You gawk at Neuvillette’s smooth response to every comment previously directed at him. You assume it’s a skill he must’ve picked up being the Iudex of Fontaine, being able to take in information from multiple sources at a time.

“Um.. yeah, I’d love it if you could try mine on. Sorry if it isn’t as pretty...” A shy smile lifts my lips before I gesture for him to lower his head. He dismisses my concern with a simple, “Nonsense,” before he’s lowering his head for me.

I easily place the delicate crown upon his head, admiring his well kept hair up close.

My eyes find the horn like accessories once more.

I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t.

Yet I do.

My hand has a mind of its own, reaching out before they gently caress the blue accessories on his head.

I hear him suck in a sharp intake of breath as the Melusines around us gasps in dramatic surprise.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, actually allowing me to continue.

I’m not going to waste this opportunity. I selfishly lift both of my hands, caressing each appendage as I feel the smoothness beneath my fingertips. My hands glide up and down; it isn’t long before they reach the base of the appendages. There’s no way this is an accessory, they don’t feel like one. Are these actual horns? Hm, if they are then surely he’ll feel it if I…

A careful squeeze of the bases has him jumping, jerking away from my touch. I immediately start to apologize, but stop myself when I catch sight of his face. His entire face is redder than the shiniest apple in Mondstadt, his eyes looking every which way as he clearly tries to compose himself.

For whatever reason his breathing is a bit ragged and he groans, hiding his head in his hands.

I’ve never seen Neuvillette look so flustered before; this sight is a treat for my eyes, and I’m enjoying every last second of it.

I can’t resist the small coo that leaves my lips.

He groans again.

“N-Name, thank you for the beautiful flower crown. I’ll keep it in my office. Please, excuse me.” He quickly stands, speed walking to his office before the door slams behind him.

You’re a bit bewildered now. And a bit confused.

If those are actual horns on his head, then is Neuvillette really a human? I mean, he could be a hybrid of some sorts maybe. I’ve seen those around when I traveled to different nations, looking for a new home to settle down in.

I feel a bit bad for touching his horns like that without his permission. My worried eyes turn to ask the Melusine if I upset Neuvillette, only to see them all crowded around me, eyes wide and full of awe.

“Monsieur Neuvillette let you touch his horns Name!” “How unexpected.” “Oh my gosh you two are so cute!” “The other girls were telling the truth!” They all chatter excitedly amongst themselves, giddy and barely able to contain their enthusiasm. They quickly bid me farewell when the door to Neuvillette’s office opens once more, giving me quick hugs and pats on the back before they scatter.

One even wishes me luck.

What do I need luck for? I’m not entirely sure, but I’m definitely taking it.

Neuvillette appears more composed when he sits down beside me, the flower crown still on his head. “I thought you were going to put the flower crown in your office?” I ask. He seems confused for a moment, before realization reaches his eyes.

“Ah, yes. I did say that. I decided your hard work deserves to be appreciated, so I will wear it until the day comes to an end.” His words elicit a broad grin to appear on my lips, and his eyes noticeably take in the sight.

A smile presents itself on his lips as we spend the next few hours just chatting amongst ourselves.

I’ve learned that Neuvillette can be quite humorous, given the opportunity. I’ve realized a lot of things about him from our interactions. Like how he prefers to keep distance between himself and the citizens of Fontaine, since it is possible one day they may end up on trial. It makes this relationship we’ve formed a bit unusual, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make me happy.

He also loves water. He wound up telling me how water tastes different from each region, and the feelings they evoke in him when he indulges in their pristine taste.

Oh, and the warmth he displays towards Melusines is just another thing that I love about him, he can be so–

Wait..

My entire body goes rigid as warmth engulfs every crevice and limb, my body burns like the hottest of waters against human skin.

Well, my feelings are quite obvious, but to admit it so easily to myself would mean…

Neuvillette stops speaking, eyeing me curiously as I internally berate myself for developing such feelings. I truly don’t know what to make of it, so I simply grip my clothes in my hands, pushing my feelings aside.

Neuvillette seems like he wants to say something, but decided against it. His eyes glance at my balled up fists, and his eyes swirl with an emotion I fail to pinpoint.

“I see you’re still wearing clothes from Liyue. This is not a complaint, just a mere observation.” Ah. I look down at my clothes.

He’s right, maybe it’s time I get something that’ll blend in more. I mean, I see people around Fontaine wearing clothes from Inazuma, Liyue, and Mondstadt even, so there really is no need for me to buy new clothes. I feel comfortable enough to walk around in the clothes I used to wear around Liyue. Still, I have to admit I love Fontaine’s style when it comes to clothes. Maybe I’ll get something new, just to see how I feel in it.

Neuvillette slowly stands. My eyes follow his movements, and they take note of his offered hand. “Come, there is somewhere I wish to take you.” You don’t need to think twice; you happily take his hand, and he helps you stand.

You dutifully follow Neuvillette, choosing to not read into the fact he has yet to let go of your hand.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

I admit, I’m shocked.

Neuvillette escorted me to Chioriya Boutique, and in mere moments one of the staff took my measurements as requested by the Chief Justice.

The bewilderment on their faces caused a snicker to slip from my lips before I stopped myself.

People’s reactions to Neuvillette are always so varied and dynamic, it’s very entertaining to see yet equally intriguing.

Neuvillette bombards me with questions regarding my fashion choices before he relays this information to the staff. I wait, expecting something more to happen, but alas he ushers me away from the boutique.

I sigh, pinching my nose. I really hope he’s not trying to get me anything. I’d love to pick something out for myself, but he wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise! I couldn't resist his earnest gaze, so I wound up waiting to the side as he requested.

I look up when the sound of footsteps reach my ears. He approaches me, a satisfied pull of his lips sends my heart into overdrive.

“I have taken care of business here. Now, perhaps we could take a walk by a riverbank ro somewhere similarly fluvial.” He extends his hand to me once more. I’m baffled to say the least. I consider protesting, opening my mouth to insist he does not need to get anything for me, but his hard glare is warning enough.

My mouth closes unceremoniously, and I quietly take his hand. He’s radiant now, humming as he walks closely by my side.

I look to the sky, the blue hues have long since shifted to beautiful pinks and purples.

Oh, Neuvillette.

You are none the wiser of the effect you have on me…

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

I wait outside the Opera Epiclese as a strong downpour of rain threatens to drown the poor souls who don’t have an umbrella.

I didn’t witness the trial today, but it’s become a habit to walk with Neuvillette after his trials. He was conflicted about this habit when it first began, but now I notice the undesigned glint in his eye whenever he catches sight of me after a trial.

So, it’s turned into a regular part of our daily routine.

Unfortunately it seems the trial wasn’t an easy one today; as people file out of the courthouse, sullen faces are many a dozen.

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest; if the citizens' faces look so solemn, then I can only imagine…

Minutes pass, long after the last person left the opera house. I start to second guess if he’s even here anymore. Maybe he left so I wouldn’t have to see him? Fortunately, he chooses that moment to emerge from the Opera house.

My eyes light up, excited to finally see him… but..

Oh..

poor Neuvillette…

I bite my lip when his calm, neutral expression catches my eye. Neuvillette isn’t one to openly express his thoughts and feelings through expression, but I know it must’ve been particularly harrowing if he can’t even muster a frown.

He looks up, and his impassive gaze locks with mine. He feigns a smile as he approaches me. My hand grips the handle of the umbrella; my heart aches for him.

“Thank you for waiting for me, Name. I apologize for taking so long, shall we pro-” Something about his eyes, devoid of spirit, arrests me. His rigid movements evokes a dreadful throb in my chest.

I drop the umbrella I’m holding, opting to rest my hands on his cheeks. He’s a bit startled by my actions, lifting his hands to rest on top of my trembling one’s. He sighs deeply, closing his eyes.

He leans into my touch.

Silence ensues.

The cold nibs at my skin. It threatens to seep into me through the fabric of my clothes, but I couldn’t care less when the man before me is clearly hurting.

A moment passes before Neuvillette clears his throat. I already know he’s going to try and brush this off, like he normally tends to do.

“Name, while I appreciate your concern, I don’t–” “Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry.” The rest of his words die in his throat. He’s silent, but I can see the effect the words had on him; his eyes squeeze so tightly it looks borderline painful.

“Name.. where did you hear..?” Oh. He wants to know where I learned about this.

“Do you remember that blonde traveler you had a meeting with that day? And the floating child thing, wait, I think they said their name was Paimon..” You think out loud, satisfied when Neuvillette stiffly nods in confirmation.

“Well, they were one of the attendees of today’s trial. They stopped to chat with me when they saw me waiting here for you. They told me when I see you and it’s still raining, if I say ‘Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, Don’t cry,’ it’ll cheer you up.” My explanation doesn’t seem to surprise him. He only sighs.

It takes him a moment before he slowly opens his eyes.

“I… see. Well.. They were correct. I’ll have to thank them during our next encounter.” I smile brightly at him, and in response his gaze seems to soften. I look out to the sky; the rain has considerably lessened its intensity. Droplets still hit the ground, but it’s an improvement from the earlier downpour.

“I do have to wonder though, why does an old children’s song speaking of the hydro dragon have such an effect on you, Neuvillette?” He raises an eyebrow, something I didn’t know he was capable of.

I giggle as he informs me, “It’s not that the song has an effect on me per se, but…” “Hmmm?” I prompt him with a gentle smile on my lips. He looks elsewhere. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me, hydro dragon.”

The way he whisks his head, still resting in the palm of my hands, to gawk at me confirms my underlying suspicions. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but if I’m really not.. Then maybe..

I release Neuvillette’s face in favor of wrapping him in a warm embrace. He emits a choked sound from deep in his throat when I start to stroke his back, repeating the rhyme once more.

Neuvillette’s sigh sounds equally exhausted as it does exasperated. “Whoever created that rhyme must have believed the Hydro Dragon was akin to a bleeding heart. It could not have been known if the Hydro Dragon would grieve for humans…” You ponder the meaning of his words for a few moments, before you respond with your own thoughts.

“While that may be true, it’s something only the Hydro Dragon knows the answer to. Whether he sympathizes with us silly humans…” I pull back to look at him. I’m really praying the love I feel stirring in my heart isn’t obvious on my face.

His eyes widen a fraction. He appears completely taken aback. I listen for the sound of the rain, and when I don’t hear it I look back to the sky. The rain has stopped now.

A droplet drips down from the building above, landing on my nose.

Neuvillette’s body shakes, and I return my gaze to him.

He pulls me close as laughter racks his body. This is the first time I’ve ever heard him laugh so brazenly; I’d be a fool not to join in.

It takes a long time for our laughter to die down, but once it does Neuvillette speaks. His words, “The people of Fontaine are innocent. Through the time I have spent by your side, it was easy to determine that you share a similar verdict, Name.”

I avoid gazing into his eyes for the duration of our conversation, lest he notice my fairly obvious lovestruck gaze.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

He takes a step closer, and I take a step back.

My heartbeat is loud in my ears; roaring louder than an obnoxious car engine as it speeds down the highway.

He mimics every move I make; for every step back I take, he takes a step forward. This continues until I’m left with nowhere to retreat, back pressed firmly against the wall behind me.

He takes his time approaching me as my eyes anxiously dart every which way. His office looks the same as I remember it, except…

My mind registers the flower crown on his desk, beside the pile of paperwork that he just finished.

He kept it?

My thoughts are brought back to him when he’s standing before me, blocking my view of everything else that isn’t him. “Name, could you please repeat what you just said?” I swallow the lump in my throat. He sounds angry. Livid, even. All I did was make a joke about myself..

“I said that, uh, I’m sorry for ruining your image. Being seen with me must not be a good look for you, being the Iudex of Fontaine, and then I said my feelings for you were stupid–” He doesn’t let me finish, slamming his hands on either side of my head.

SLAM!

I jump.

I feel small between his arms and his imposing figure in front of me. It’s difficult, but I manage to maintain eye contact with him. The emotion in his eyes reflects a raging tsunami, oppressive with a dangerous glint that’d make anyone feel weak in the knees. My knees feel especially weak right now, being caged in like this.

“The words you speak reek of lies. It’s a fabrication your mind has created to protect yourself.” His words are true and pierce through the walls I’ve been trying to maintain around my heart. “I don’t understand…” I whisper.

another lie.

“What is it that you don’t understand?” His voice is low, and the words sound like a growl leaving his lips. “I.. don’t understand why someone- a being- like you, or how, you could possibly.. Return the feelings I harbor for you. You’re the Hydro Dragon after all, are you not? A respectable, prominent figure at that, whose company brings me pleasure and shines a light on my mundane everyday life. So, why, how is it possible that you… you said you…” I struggle to finish my statement, but he waits for me patiently.

“...You said you feel the same, but I don’t understand how you possibly…” He clicks his tongue, clearly aggravated. I don’t believe he’s aggravated with me, rather more, with what I have said.

He closes his eyes. It’s almost as if I can see the gears turning in his head; he’s figuring out what he wants to say in response to my absurd claim, as he previously called it..

His eyes slowly open, and ardent determination is evident within his burning iris’. His next words stun me into complete silence, absolutely enraptured with the overflowing emotion seeping from his words.

“Honestly Name, I’m trying to comprehend how you haven’t determined this for yourself, but it is alright. I will make things clear for you now, Celestia and the Heavenly Principles be damned; I yearn for you like a traveler yearns for a haven, a place of respite for their weary soul. My heart aches to feel the weight of your hand in mine. It longs to memorize every ridge of your palm, admire every dip and curve of your body, outline any and every beautiful scar that embellishes your natural beauty. So I’ll be damned if I allow you to stand before me belittling yourself when we are both aware that your words hold no significance; the truth of the matter lies in the longing gaze you’re giving me now. It lies in the quick withdrawal of your hand whenever mine ‘accidentally’ brushes against yours. It lies in precious tears upon your lashes, as you try to conceal your feelings for me. It…” His powerful words lose momentum as said tears escape the confines of my lashes, painting the planes of my face as they drip down at a leisurely pace.

He lifts a gloved hand to wipe them away, before he pulls it back in a moment of uncertainty. I watch, beguiled, as he removes his gloves before reaching for my cheek, thumb tenderly caressing my tear stained cheeks.

A strangled sob threatens to escape my lips, so he leans in, unhurried and deliberate with every movement he makes.

His lips brush against my own, yet they hover mere millimeters from pressing firmly against my keen lips. “May I?” His question is simple in nature, yet the implications of his words hold so much weight it threatens to suffocate you. It’s all you’ve wanted, truly, yet you find yourself in a daze.

He waits. Patiently.

I close my eyes and breathe, and he breathes with me.

So when I open my eyes once more, my answer is resolute, unyielding, in its truthfulness and authenticity.

“Yes.”

I can feel his breathing speed up, as little puffs of air tickle my face. His hands feel softer than I’d imagined, as they rest upon my cheeks.

His tentative lips eradicate the irksome space that previously separated us. I smile into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. It doesn’t take long for the both of us to feel comfortable. Our lips part, only to seek the warmth of the other’s once more. This time, it’s Neuvillette who smiles as we kiss.

His lips eagerly taste mine as we explore each other. His hands move from my face to brush against my sides, stopping at the hips. They reside there, pulling me closer. A sweet hum reaches my ears, emitted from deep within his chest.

Joy bubbles up from within as our kiss comes to a natural conclusion; Neuvillette pulls back to provide me an opportunity to breathe.

I feel warm all over as I study his smokey gaze. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. My palpitating heart can’t take much more of this.

Yet, I verbalize no objections as he languidly captures my lips once again. He’s impatient now; his hungry lips seek to claim every aspect of me, mind, body and soul. His lips easily devour mine, his tongue, which sought entrance moments before, now laps against my own.

A shiver racks my body as the warmth flooding my body threatens to be my demise. My hands seek purchase on his shoulder, pressing into his shoulder blades. I’m astonished by the passion within Neuvillette’s tender, yet heated embrace.

I have to pull away, lest I be swept up in his treacherous waves. A wistful sigh escapes his parted lips as he rests his forehead against my own. I gasp for air; He stole my breath away, just as the mighty waves of the sea indiscriminately rob many of their ability to breath, resulting in futile attempts to resurface.

I require more time than I’d like to admit to catch my breath.

“So.. does this mean you like me or?” My joke does not go unrewarded. His unamused look drives me into a fit of giggles.

Love washes over me, like a gentle caress, when he joins in.

I admire his unabashed laughter as his thumb rubs soothing circles on my hip.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Distinct giggles can be heard from the other side of the door.

Neuvillette sighs.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, meanwhile my chest rapidly rises and falls in mirth.

“Do not encourage them.” He groans.

I overhear Sedene tell the other Melusine of the sight she was met with earlier this evening, as Neuvillette and I walked into his office hand in hand, and the girls gathered around her squeal with glee.

I peeked out of Neuvillette’s office a few moments ago, and my eyes were met with the adorable sight of a group of Melusine gathered around Sedene as if it were story time.

Now, I rest my head on Neuvillette’s shoulder as he signs the last document of the evening.

“Oh dear. I worry they’ll continue to discuss this for many days to come.” I can only smile as his face is colored with endearment; his eyes soften and he fails to stifle a smile.

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. They’re having fun, and they care dearly for you, Neuvillette..” “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong.” His retort leaves me feeling confused, but he only reaches for my hand.

I watch as he plays with my fingers, humming a tune to himself. “Dear, they have come to care deeply for you as well. Do you not notice the way Sedene’s eyes light up whenever you speak with her? Or how Kiara always runs in your direction the moment she spots you? Or, how about when– mmph!” The rest of his words are muffled behind my hands, pressed firmly to his mouth.

I can feel the grin he’s making.

“Okay okay, point taken.” I grumble, removing my hands.

My heart flutters when he sends a wink my way.

He turns his attention back to the signed document on his desk, moving it to the finished pile. “Speaking of caring deeply for someone… Name, I have something I wish to tell you.”

“Should the day ever come where you choose to remain by my side, I shall reveal something I know will be of interest to you.” I’m sure my face looks as astonished as I feel, because Neuvillette simply laughs, running his thumb along my bottom lip.

“Now now, there’s no need to make such a face.” “What are you talking about? Reveal.. What?” He only closes his eyes, emitting a quiet hum.

“My name, of course.”

My entire body stills as the gears turn in my head.

“Wait, so Neuvillette isn’t..” His eyes compel me, keeping mine locked with his as they open once more. A deep emotion lies within them, granting me a glimpse of the altruistic soul within.

“I have always asked citizens to refer to me by my last name.” His words make sense, and with the knowledge I have of him, he is one to keep people at a polite distance. Still… It's a bit shocking.

Even so, I have no qualms with this arrangement.

“It’s a deal, I’ll patiently wait for the day you tell me your name. ..First name, I mean.” There’s a glint in his eyes that reflects pleasant surprise, albeit there’s a hint of a challenge that resides within them.

“Oh? You sound confident. Not that I’m opposed, that is the ideal outcome I desire for our relationship.” I smile, placing my fingers under his chin as I lean in for a kiss.

He smiles as our lips embrace each other, placing his hands firmly against my back.

I had every right to feel confident; after all, I finally was able to witness Neuvillette on his knees, ring in hand as his loving gaze threatened to break the dam I was avidly struggling to hold back.

My eyes glisten with unshed tears as I join him on the ground. I practically throw myself onto him as I embrace him, and his carefree laugh is an alluring melody to my ears. He leisurely slips the ring onto my finger, pulling back so he can properly face me.

“Now, are you ready for me to consummate our arrangement?” My head bobs up and down so fast that I make myself a bit dizzy.

Warmth gives Neuvillette’s features an almost angelic glow as a delicate finger, free from the confines of his gloves, brushes along my cheek.

“Hmm…” He stalls.

I pout. He beams.

“Alright, alright. I will leave you in suspense no longer. My name is…”

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

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fuctacles · 3 months

Text

in love and war

For Spicy Six Winter Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair

“I fucking hate him,” Steve seethes into the phone, sniffling loudly right after.

Robin makes a disgusted noise.

“Not right in my ear! Use a tissue!”

“Don't have any,” he murmurs, using his sleeve instead.

“Need me to make a grocery run for you? Get some chicken soup while I’m at it?” She’s joking, but there’s a hint of “I'll do it if you need it” in her voice.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Just a bit cold.”

“I think you should just tell him he’s going too far-”

“No,” he interrupts her. “I want my revenge. This is war now.”

Robin sighs into the receiver the last breath of hope that her best friend will act like an adult.

“Okay. What’s the plan, Captain?”

He winces.

“Scoops flashbacks, pick a different code name.”

She hums in thought but comes up with an alternative suspiciously fast.

“What's the plan, Batman?”

“What?”

“Because of the bat?”

“That’s stupid.” He searches his brain for the matching nerd trivia. “And that of course, would make you Robin?”

“Precisely!”

He can imagine her grin and it’s hard to be annoyed at that. He scoffs nevertheless. On principle.

“We’re planning revenge on Joker or what?”

“Fine.”

It started like all wars do. With a lover's quarrel. At least that’s how Robin will tell the story at their wedding, but that's over a decade ahead. Now, here, it starts with a snowball.

“Hey!”

Steve swerves around to look for the culprit but while there’s none in sight, he spots a familiar van, standing nearby. His eyes narrow and he reaches down to scoop some snow.

“I know it’s you, Eddie! Show yourself!”

Silence. He keeps his eyes peeled while slowly moving to the side. The snow crunches under his foot and something black shifts near the front of the van. He throws.

The black something yelps.

“Score!” Steve cheers.

But just a second later he’s plowed with a flurry of snow.

“Munson!” he growls, hiding his face and ducking as fast as he can behind his car. There’s no aim or finesse to Eddie’s throws, he’s going for the pure quantity of them, meaning must have been making snowballs since he left the store about an hour ago. Steve has no chance.

The balls are sturdy and precisely formed, he can feel their impact on his back. Can hear them thudding against his car.

“You’ll be paying for the lacquer job!” he yells and the shooting stops. Figuring it’ll give him a second to arm up he starts scooping snow and forming balls. He’s at a disadvantage again, his car is parked in a mostly shoveled parking lot. Unlike Eddie’s, standing on the curb where the snow has been piled up.

Switching to the offensive would be his best move probably.

Or he could get in his car and leave. But where’s the fun in that?

He holds a ball ready and peeks out. A snow projectile wheezes right above his head while he nearly takes Eddie’s hat off.

“Nice aim, Munson!”

“Fuck you, jock!”

Steve cackles in delight and for a moment they exchange more throws like that.

“You chickening out?”

“Never!”

“Out of ammo, huh?”

“You fucking wish!”

He was, though, running out of snow. It was time to attack.

He throws a couple more balls by the front of the car while shuffling to the back.

“That's all you’ve got?!”

He doesn’t answer not to compromise his position. And then, he runs.

Eddie has a ball in hand when he spots him but is too stunned to aim properly. He screams and turns around to flee, but his long legs aren’t going to save him, because Steve isn’t here to chase him.

Instead, he jumps.

They both land in a pile of snow.

“Steve, no! No, no, no!”

“You started it!” he reminds him, shoveling snow down his jacket while he screams.

“Steeeeeeeeeve!”

He thought that was all, but it turned out it was just the beginning.

A furious Henderson walked into the store the next day.

“Eddie is sneezing,” he says like it was Steve’s fault somehow. He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, and?”

“And, if he’s sick he won’t be able to DM and we’re this close to the big bad!”

“Okay, still-”

“And it’s your fault!”

“Yeah, no-”

“Steve.” Dustin pushes himself up on the counter, his feet dangling just to get right into Steve’s face. “You put a finger on my DM and you’ll perish.”

Steve bops him on the forehead. It makes him lose his balance and stumble back on his feet.

“Sure munchkin, I’m quaking in my boots.”

“I’ll make sure mom never makes a chocolate cake for you,” he threatens with a venom no high schooler should be capable of.

“Is this really about yesterday?” Robin peeks out of the horror aisle.

“Yes!”

“Apparently.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” she comments and goes back behind the shelves. Which reminds Steve he’s at work and this is, in fact, ridiculous.

“Listen, I’m not touching Eddie. He started it, first of all, and it got a bit out of hand. It’s not like we’re holding snow fights every day,” he waves his hand dismissively.

Dustin squints at him.

“You better not be.”

“No worries, I’m not a child. I have better stuff to do.”

“Uh-huh.”

Steve frowns at his tone.

“Hey, what is that supposed to-”

But Dustin already turned around, off towards the fantasy section.

“Dustin!”

“You’ve raised him well.”

“Shit!” Steve jumped up when Robin appeared next to him. “Warn a guy, jeez.”

“Yeah, no,” she smiles sweetly at him. “Get back to work, since you’re not a child.”

He huffs.

When they close the store a couple of hours later, he realizes he hadn’t taken the other variable into account. Eddie was a child and had nothing better to do.

Moreso, he found back up.

Turns out Max and Lucas were much better shots than him, moving the scales in their favor.

That is until a fire lit up in Robin's eyes and she started throwing snowballs with an alarming accuracy.

“Where did that come from?” he marvels at her with wide eyes.

“You’re looking at a five-year family champion in snow fights. Twas the only way I could be violent against my gross cousins,” she explains, laser-focused on the ginger strands peeking from behind the van.

He laughs, mostly providing her with ammo while she does the shooting.

“Why are you encouraging this?!”

Robin was the one on the receiving end of Dustin’s wrath this time. Steve watched it with amused anticipation, but all she did was shrug.

“I just got caught in the crossfire. Don’t involve me in this.”

And then she disappeared in the back.

“Steve!”

Steve sighs.

“What did I say?!”

“Not to touch your DM? Which I didn’t. He’s the one who brought reinforcements!”

“You must have done something! Eddie doesn’t just start shit!”

Steve scoffs.

“Well, clearly you don’t know your friend so well, then. Because he sure fucking does and he sure fucking did.”

“He sure fucking didn’t!”

“Language!”

And so, Dustin storms out. A moody teenager shouldn’t be getting to him as much as he is, but he does and Steve’s in a foul mood now.

Robin, bless her heart, stays an extra hour to close up with him again. They both steal glances through the shop’s windows, in search of any anomalies. The coast seems clear.

“Maybe he parked in the back?”

“That wouldn’t make sense.”

They were standing, eyes glued to the glass, keys ready.

“Well, this whole thing doesn’t make sense.”

Robin nods to that and pushes the door.

There is no ambush. They walk briskly to Steve’s car, and no snowballs swish by. The doors close behind them, wrapping them in metallic safety.

“Steve.”

“Right.”

He shakes out of his stupor and starts the ignition. He drives Robin home and nobody follows. Slowly, he relaxes.

“Hope that’s the end of it.” Robin squeezes his shoulder before leaving. “Take a hot bath, call it an early night. You’re tense like it’s another apocalypse.”

He shoots her a glare.

“Don’t joke like that. Jesus Christ, Robin!”

She waves her hand.

“I’m just saying! You’re stressing over nothing!”

She was right, of course. He sighed.

“I guess. It’s all Dustin’s fault, it’s like he knows exactly how to piss me off.”

Robin rolls her eyes and he doesn’t need to hear how stupid it is to get involved in a high-schooler's drama. He knows.

He drives home with the radio turned down, already winding down from a long day at work. There’s some leftover soup in the fridge and he can whip himself a quick grilled cheese. Maybe he’ll open a beer and watch a sitcom before falling asleep.

Damn, he feels old.

Calmness settles over him with the sound of his tires switching from asphalt to the short driveway to his house. He steps out of the car, noticing the new layer of snow under his shoes. Makes a mental note to shovel it the next day. When he turns around he sees a snowman in his front yard and he frowns at it. When did that happen?

“Duck!”

He does so instinctively, monster-fighting reflexes kicking in. A snowball falls apart against his car’s window.

“It’s a trap!”

Someone answers to that with a battle cry and all hell breaks loose.

Hands are pulling him behind the car as he watches the snowman fall apart, revealing a red-nosed Eddie. He’s too stunned to react and lets himself be moved around until he’s crouching next to rosy-cheeked Lucas.

“Changing teams?” He raises eyebrows at him.

“Well, last time I only joined for Max. Now I think Eddie’s going overboard.”

“No shit,” Steve scoffs. They form snowballs while talking.

“He’s got Mike and Will on his side.”

“Will?”

“He goes where Mike goes.” Lucas shrugs.

“Well, we can take them.” Between his and Lucas’ skills, the nerds stood no chance. He sighs. “I just wanted a nice night in. Maybe I could make a break for it…?” He can’t even see his front door from here.

“I could distract them when they run out of ammo,” Lucas offers.

“You’re a godsend.”

Eddie seems to be possessed. The snowman hid his stash of snowballs, which he now throws without thought.

“Show yourself, jocks! There’s a traitor in your midst that I’d want a word with!”

Lucas rolls his eyes before jumping up and hitting Eddie square in the chest.

“Where’s the other two?” he frowns, gathering snow again.

Steve takes a cautious look around just in time to see one of the snow-capped bushes move. He barely ducks from a projectile Mike throws.

This feels like a proper ambush, the two of them hiding behind a car while the other three close in. Eddie has abandoned his snowman post, his probably-last snowballs carried in his arm while he swings with the other one.

“I think we should make a run for it,” Steve whispers, trying to hit Eddie while he zig zags out of the way. Thankfully losing some ammunition in the process.

“We’re sticking to the plan. When I tell you, run to your door, I’ll run to my house. It’s not far from here anyway.”

Steve nods, somehow used to listening to plans made by his younger friends.

They keep throwing, looking for the right opportunity, when something happens on the other front.

“Will!”

Mike stands in shock, mouth gaping, as he turns to his best friend. Will giggles mischievously, taking a step back.

“Mutiny! Get him!”

“Now!”

They start running. Will from Mike, Mike after him. Steve to the door. Eddie drops his ammo to cut his way and Lucas scrambles to attack him but he’s unfazed. Before the boy realizes the snowballs don’t bother him because he’s solely focused on Steve, it’s too late.

Eddie grapples Steve, they flop over a bush and roll in the snow.

“Ha! How the turns have tabled!”

“I think it’s-” but he doesn’t get to finish before he’s hit with an avalanche of snow. “What the fuck, Eddie?!”

“You took one of mine and now you have to pay!” the man on top of him declares, holding him in the snow. His cheeks are red and his nose is running but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“If you get any snot on me I’ll fucking-!”

Lucas runs into them, trying to get Eddie off of him but it only makes him cling to Steve and roll them away in the snow.

“Eddie!!!”

They shovel snow at each other until Lucas manages to get a hold of Eddie and Steve scrambles to make a run to his house.

His shivering hands lock the door and he looks through the window. Eddie seems to have given up his pursuit and is giving Lucas a noogie. When he lets go he’s motioning to his van, probably offering him a ride home. He’s even weirder than Steve thought and he just can’t get a read on the guy.

As they are walking away, Eddie turns and spots Steve in the window. Covered in snow and red-faced, he grins brightly and waves at him.

Steve shows him the finger.

#spicysixwinterfanworkschallenge #steddie #mine #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ff #st #stranger things 4 #steddie fanfiction #steddie one shot

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poppadom0912 · 6 months

Text

Together (VII)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, swearing and scary men.

Summary: When Jay least expected it, he suddenly starts hearing things. And maybe, he's starting to hallucinate too.

A/N: Am I suddenly full of inspiration and writing in school when i should be doing my lab write up? Yes I am. This chapter has been changed many times but I finally finished editing. A little spoiler- maybe I’m being nicer to my babies 🙃

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

Over the course of eating their very poorly put together ‘meal’, Will came to the conclusion that the food hadn’t been tampered with and so he was happy to continue feeding you.

You had to admit that you felt like a baby, your older adult brother feeding adult you. You tried insisting you could feed yourself but with the state of your shaking fingers, hands sore from the countless times they’d been tied back, Will denied you your request.

The man that had given the tray of food returned and this time, there was something rectangle like sticking out in one of his trouser pockets while what clearly sounded like keys was sticking out in the other.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel Will’s heart rate increase from where his hand was positioned over yours. He must’ve noticed it too.

The Ezra's were so meticulous in their plans and their behaviour was always erratic and on another level of violence that it was impossible to believe one of their henchmen could even, for a second, have the thought of being nice to their victims.

But you were continuously surprised by them because as he took the empty tray, leaving behind the two waters and single juice, he ‘accidentally’ dropped the plastic rectangle and as he was walking away, his back turned to you both, a key fell and clanged against the ground, but he never looked back.

And just like that, the door slammed behind him, massively contrasting the immense kindness he showed mere seconds ago.

Holy friggin shit balls.

*****

Was Trudy worried? Yes, indeed she is. Was she going to show any concern? No, not unless she was left alone with her detective.

Ever since dispatch had forwarded her Jay’s call, she’d been on her feet and alert. And ever since she found out that Jackson and Ezra Murray were the culprits to blame, she was determined that they weren’t going to get away again.

Trudy knew all the Halstead siblings, but she knew Jay the best. Over the many years, not only herself but many, many others were forced to get used to not one but three Halstead's being in existence and working within less than fifteen minutes from each other.

Currently, Trudy and Jay were alone in the bullpen since the younger detective was barred from any field work unless they found Will and Y/N’s location but that was the only exception. Right now, her job was to keep Jay company, keep an eye on him and continue looking for any more clues or evidence that could be of any help.

Jay was very clearly still losing his mind and his mental and physical state deteriorated as time passed. At this point, Trudy couldn’t help but think the worst and fear for how her detective was going to fare as a result.

Currently, she was sat opposite him at Hailey's desk, doing her own bit by going through security footage that had too many hours of video on it. Usually, she would get bored doing this, but it was a little different this time because whenever she glanced up, she was faced with the struggling sight of your brother who never asked for too much.

All he wanted was to get his older brother and younger sister back.

Suddenly, the phone on Jay’s desk was ringing. Luckily for him, he had a second phone whenever he went undercover and since the first one had been taken and was likely smashed in an evidence bag somewhere, this was all he was relying on.

The sound was slightly jarring as it interrupted the pin drop silence they’d been in but neither of them showed any sign of discomfort. Instead, Jay went to answer the call, but his solemn mood didn’t change. It was evident that he wasn’t expecting much since it was his undercover phone that they’d been using two days ago on a case.

Just as the desk sergeant was about to go back to her CCTV footage, she felt the entire bullpen still. The tension so thick it was suffocating her veins restricting any blood flow, and as she looked up, it became dizzying.

His already pale face had nothing on Snow White and from where she sat, she could his heartbeat thundering out his chest, practically vibrating. All this could only mean one thing.

“Will?”

What the fuck

For a hot second, Trudy thought that Jay was in so much pain that he was transferring some of his hallucinations onto her to alleviate his symptoms but then he continued talking into the phone and reality sunk into her bones.

"Shit, Will wait slow down I can't- what?!"

Without prior warning, Jay shot out of his seat, wavering slightly on his feet causing the older woman to follow and stand by his side in any case he fell from the whiplash she's sure he gave himself.

"Knives- you've got keys?- Y/N's not unconscious- she's lost her voice- your bleeding?! When- Why are you talking about grape juice?!" Jay paused several times, his words repeatedly getting cut off by Will on the other side of the phone. The longer the call went on, the more confused Trudy became. Jay must've been thinking the same as her from the height his brows rose every time he spoke. They went from talking about knives and blood to grape juice.

The duality of the Halstead brothers.

"Wait so he gave you a knife and somehow you found a gun just casually lying around? Will, I swear to God if you-"

And when Jay screw his eyes shut, something in her mind told her the doctor was doing something stupid and very questionable, very in character even when in a life or death situation. It was nice to know people would never change.

Despite the anxiety growing in her chest, the call lasted longer than she expected. Will was being very efficient and careful for managing whatever he was doing and that put her at somewhat ease. Eventually, nothing physically tore them apart but it was poor internet or a lack of a connection that abruptly ended the call.

"Tell me you got a location?" Jay asked, hope drowning out any other emotion in his ever so expressive eyes. If it wasn't for lives being on the line then she would've scoffed and scolded him but a sarcastic remark would do for now.

"What do you take me for?" She asked incredulously as she glanced at the computer screen, almost immediately committing the address to her memory.

"I'll call Voight but get in the car first."

But Jay didn't need her permission, he was already moving.

*****

So much had unravelled in the last twenty minutes, you were still struggling to understand it all.

With all the uncertainty and determination in the world, you and Will had no other plan but to take they keys and the pocketknife and basically run as fast as you could. Well, run as much as Will could since he was carrying you on his back, very reminiscent of your childhood while he navigated the halls as best he could. You made a very pathetic argument that you could walk on your own but when you tried standing up, your legs gave in on themselves and Will gave you his motherly disappointed look that was very spot on; you and Jay had been on the receiving end of this look for way too long now that you should’ve been immune to it but here you were.

Opening the basement door, you both cringed at the loud sound it made. You guys hadn’t even left the basement yet and it was already going off to a great start.

As gently as he could, Will readjusted your position on his back, his arms moving to hold under your thighs more securely so that in a rush, you wouldn’t move. As he did so, you kept your arms around his neck, barely gripping him due to both a lack of strength and cautious to not strangle him.

Before leaving the room, you and Will sat and contemplated very long and hard about your escape plan. You were provided with very little by the mysterious man you were now deeming your saviour and maybe guardian angel depending on how successful the escape was.

Staring at the burner phone, you swore. You couldn’t remember anyone’s phone number for the life of you. Easily, you could’ve called 999 but the response much longer than calling someone either of you knew. It shocked you only a little when you couldn’t recollect a single person’s phone number, not even Kelly’s or Jay’s.

But like always, Will was there and knew exactly what to do. Maybe it was his doctor nature, but he had several numbers memorised and for some odd reason, he remembered Jay’s undercover phone number. You called him stupid, but he only laughed it off while he punched in the numbers.

You waited in anticipation, your nerves imitating Will’s as he held the phone to his ear, biting on the inside of his cheek as he waited for the phone to stop ringing. And when it did, Will audibly let out a sigh of relief, you felt like crying.

Will explained in half detail, leaving out a lot. It was obvious that Will was trying to relay the necessary details Jay needed to know about their current situation but then he decided to add in the random unnecessary fact that you drank grape juice. That totally threw you off, but Will kept talking as if nothing were wrong.

When Will eventually finished talking, he went silent and listened to what Jay was saying. For a minute, you couldn’t hear a voice on the other side of the phone but then you heard his muffled voice, and it brought you immediate ease knowing he was safe.

And before you knew it, the call ended, and you were out the dreaded basement.

Back to the present, Will was carefully cruising the empty corridors of the very nicely furnished warehouse. It made you question the desolate and dirty state the basement was in. At one point, you pointed out a gun lying on an ottoman; it was very suspiciously placed but when Will checked, it was very much real and very much loaded.

So here you were: a burner phone, pocketknife, gun, and sheer drive. You didn’t want to jinx it but… yes you weren’t going to jinx it.

The warehouse was ginormous. Every corridor was identical to the next and the furnishing was as though a professional interior designer had been inside. Luckily for you and Will, Jackson and Ezra’s lacky’s hadn’t been plastered all over the place, making your escape just a little more easier.

To remain as incognito as possible, Will only whispered to you when absolutely necessary, narrating to you what he was doing and what was going to happen. So far, so good. Will was slinking around, movements smooth and looking like a hair on his body had never been touched since being here. If you didn’t already know he was a doctor, then you would question his physical abilities and profession.

Each corner you turned, you felt your heart drop, your body anticipating disaster. The more time passed, the more you could feel Will sweat and struggle. He had begrudgingly admitted that he was hurt, going into slight detail that Ezra stabbed him, and he’d been hurt more throughout the several times you were passed out. You knew he was hurt and if you were to go in order of the most hurt to the least, the list would be: You, Will and then Jay. And considering the blood you saw covering Jay’s body the last time you saw him; God knows what went down between your oldest brother and your kidnappers.

“Will, if you’re tired, we can stop for a second.�� You whispered into his ear but the only reply you got was him shaking his head. You knew his answer made sense, you needed to get out as soon as possible before you got caught but if Will took just one minute or two to recollect himself then maybe he’d feel better.

However, he decided that he was going to put himself last and everything else first because according to him, apparently you and getting out of this damned place took priority to his light-headedness and the blood that was only now slowly beginning to stop running like a river.

And so, without another word, he readjusted you one more time, his grip tightening around your thighs but not too much so it would hurt, and he continued walking.

Going downstairs was the hardest thing Will had to do by far. Yes, carrying you and maintaining your weight on his back was difficult but he could manage, and you felt much more lighter than what you should’ve been being a firefighter but that was a concern for later.

Staring down from the top of the staircase, Will calculated the descent. Yes, it would hurt a lot considering how much his legs shook as he merely stood but he was now starting to get worried but how little you were moving. Initially, you would move every now and then when your body felt stiff or to whisper under your breath so only he could hear you.

Now though, Will didn’t want to say it, you were deathly silent.

He shoved all his negative thoughts aside, deciding to deal with them later because the biggest problem he had was staring at him mockingly. How did his life come to such a point point that stairs scared him?

Luck must’ve decided to be nice to him all of a sudden because under five minutes, he safely delivered the two of you on the ground floor. Now, all that was left to do was find a back or front door and get the heck out of this place.

But obviously, fate was laughing down on the Halstead’s because luck ran as fast as she could, after only three minutes of doing her job because Will was facing down two familiar looking men decked out in all black.

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #jay halstead x reader #onechicago #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago pd #will halstead x reader #halstead sister #halstead brothers #kelly severide x reader #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x sister!reader

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lewkwoodnco · 5 months

Note

Heyy:) I just wanted to request a George x fem!reader one shot :P I totally understand if you don't want to write it or if you don't like the idea or anything but I was thinking a fic inspired by "wildest dreams" by Taylor? Just some silly teen romance vibes you know🤭 (and please no Angst or anything, I can't take that shit atm😔)

Wildest Dreams - George Karim x Reader

A/N: going to be taking a break from the requests in my inbox to work on my 12 days of fics series! (but will get back to them after im done heheh) I might have completely butchered this ask im so sorry BUT I made it as fluffy as I think it gets (w George at least), just had to do the 77 thing i have no self-restraint, also this poem is soso beautiful one of my absolute favesss but idk whats up with the formatting :(((, wc 3.3k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Subtle Bridges

Walking with me, you'd once pointed to the fragility and ingenuity of a spider's web. Subtle bridges, you said, On bridges some men hang. A warning that has stayed While I read history traced in blood and tears of men. I was caught in the end with a nest of books. They burned anyway, and now I bend to build an emperor's endless wall. Like a thread of longing the border runs in loops and bends, and along it we root the gravestones of nameless men. A king's metaphor, This is, history raised from ash and bone -- a symbol Of its vast futility, or of eternity. Which it is I do not know, But since leaving home some things have come clear. No one literally breaks from loss, not even here. And some ties won't give. I sometimes dream of you, and walking, in gardens where love and knowledge hang.

By Yvonne Koh

She was at the Kensel Green Cemetery with the rest of her team from Fittes, after being called down by DEPRAC because of a robbery. They had spread out over the building, looking for any sign of the missing relic or the culprit, when she heard a slow, grinding noise from inside the hall. She quietly crept in to the silhouette of a shadowy figure bent over the casket.

"Can I help you?"

The boy's head snapped up immediately, painfully slamming against the stone shelf behind him. She let out an involuntary gasp, briefly wincing at the hollow thunk.

"Didn't do it," he groaned, steadying himself against the wall. "...whatever it was that...someone did."

She squinted at him using the little light spilling in from the corridor. He couldn't have been more than a year or two older than her. Against her better judgement, she kept her voice down.

"This is a crime scene!" she hissed at him.

"I - what?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm not a thief, or a relic man. I promise."

Her eyes swept his scruffy appearance critically. "Why would I think that?"

"Ms L/N?"

She turned, momentarily speechless, barely registering the rustle of the boy stealing away into the darkness. She blinked against the brightness of Inspector Barnes' torch, glancing back to check that he really was gone.

"Everything alright?"

She paused for a moment longer, as if willing him to rematerialise in the corner he had been crouching in just a moment ago. Nothing. Her eyes narrowed. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.

"Must have been the wind."

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

George was staring out the kitchen window glumly, lazily stirring his mug of tea. The weather was as pleasant as it got, and Lockwood had roused them all at the crack of dawn for a breakfast picnic, to 'boost morale.' Of course, George should have known better than to hold his breath, especially when loud angry voices had started to shake him awake when he had been halfway through groggily packing their picnic basket. Now, he sipped his cold tea through thin lips, listening to the slow, steady footsteps approaching the kitchen and the wan face belonging to them.

"Let me guess. You and Lucy are no longer in the mood for a picnic?"

Lockwood sombrely shook his head. George sighed, picking up the picnic basket. Seemed like a shame to let his slaving away go to waste. And he was still very much in the mood for the strawberries and cream he had packed inside. Which is why George had been heading out for a solo breakfast picnic with enough food for three when he heard a foreign voice stop him.

"George Casper Karim."

He looked up from the doorknob in alarm. It was the girl from Kensel Green Cemetery. He hesitated, trying to gauge her expression.

"Ex-employee of Fittes Agency, fired after six months for insubordination, currently a researcher at Lockwood & Co."

"Brilliant. Astonishing, really, how you've repeated my own job history back to me."

She frowned. He relished the stab of satisfaction. He'd had a shitty morning and was likely going to have a shitty day, so really, having a go at someone was probably going to be the highlight.

"There's no need to be rude."

"I think I'd know where I've been the past couple of years, thanks very much. Forgive me for not being more impressed."

Still looking a little disgruntled, she pressed on, firmly clutching the waist-high gate. "I've got a bone to pick with you, if you don't mind."

He eyed her warily, and decided against approaching her any further. "You can pick it just fine from over there."

She looked mildly peeved, but he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her. After a few long, tense seconds, she relented, not that she was happy about it..

"So...you were right. You're no relic man."

That was quick. "Thank you. Have a nice day." He closed the distance between him and the gate in a few quick strides, pushing against it, but she pushed right back with a steely look in her eye.

"Don't know about the other bit, though."

He didn't like the look in her eye; the look of someone knowing something he didn't. His mouth went dry.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Might be more convincing if your associate hadn't mentioned a talking skull. Awfully difficult to contain a visitor without a ghost jar, wouldn't you say?"

He swore under his breath. "Fucking Lockwood can't keep his mouth shut."

"I don't expect DEPRAC takes kindly to thieves or hooligans-"

He let out a bark of laughter. "Hooligan? Me?"

"-or strange boys who break into places they shouldn't be-"

"You can't prove it was me."

"Wanna bet?"

A challenge. A dare. His mouth was already open to call her bluff when the self-satisfied smirk curling at the corner of her lip gave him pause. Lockwood wouldn't be much pleased if he gave DEPRAC another reason to steer the agency dangerously close towards closing. He wasn't like Lockwood or Lucy - he was careful, very careful. Too late George wished he had been a little more careful all those years ago in covering his tracks - but, to be fair, he had no reason to think anyone at Fittes would have been capable enough to put two and two together.

Until now.

"Look, why don't we...talk about this, like civilised people? I've got strawb - you like strawberries and cream, don't you?"

She sneered again. George was beginning to think that was just how her face looked.

"You want to bribe me with...strawberries...and cream?"

"It's not bribery. Just...a friendly chat. Agent to agent."

Which was how they ended up on a grassy hill at one of the meadows at the outskirts of London. He had never been there before, but Lockwood had remembered it as a prime spot for cosy family picnics.

"So what else do you know about me?"

She chewed a bite of scrambled eggs thoughtfully before responding.

"You're obsessed with the Problem. An obsession that made you an asset, initially."

She had heard that he was the one who had identified the visitor, Edmund Bickerstaff, but what she had had difficulty wrapping her head around was how he had managed to do it with only the vast yet imprecise volumes of the Archives at his disposal. Imagine what he could do with the carefully curated library at Fittes. She stared at him, trying to figure him out. There was a gentle breeze blowing and the slight movement made him look marginally more affable but not any more comprehensible. She let out the breath she was holding.

"You must have really screwed up for Fittes to have let you go."

He shrugged. "It was a long time coming. Fittes never really was the type of company I was interested in working at, and I was never the type of employee Fittes was interested in keeping."

"What about now? Have you ever considered leaving?"

"Why would I?"

"I've taken a glance at Lockwood & Co's financial records. You can't be making much, if anything at all."

"And go from being broke to being broke and homeless?"

"Homeless? What about your parents?"

"I visit them, occasionally, but they're a right piece of work. Last time I saw them was my grandmother's 77th birthday. I think there was a row but I can't be completely sure because I was a little, er, sloshed. The party ended, and I expect the champagne went flat, and my aunt was the last to leave. She was sitting on the floor with a merlot in her hand, and her voice was ringing through the halls. The curtains were burnt, my parents didn't talk to each other for a week, and one of my brothers had broken his hand. But I could never forget sitting in that empty dining hall, holding those sodden, scorched curtains, listening to her saying nothing lasts forever, nothing lasts forever."

The sunlight had a diffused quality to it, at least the little of it that managed to pour through the layer of clouds blocking the sky. The ashy light threw a powdery glow on George's face, and for a moment she felt as though she was in that dining hall with him, listening to those same laments. He glanced at her, and she felt a sudden, foreign uncertainty grip her heart.

"Now I feel really bad about lying."

His hand slipped, missing his mouth by a good couple of inches, nearly sending the contents of his glass down his shirt.

"Lie? What lie?"

"I kind of haven't, not really...actually spoken to any of your associates."

He chokes on his laughter, and when he throws his head back she wonders if she's ever seen anyone laugh as freely as him. It's a ridiculously enticing sight.

"Touché. Touché."

He looks at her in the eye, unabashed, with an unnaturally casual intensity. It almost feels impolite.

"So...yeah. Maybe I was suited to be a Fittes agent, once upon a time, but not anymore."

"That's a pity."

He looks at her weird, and she hastily changes the subject.

"Do you do this often?"

"What, taking strangers out for breakfast?"

"No. Bring a girl out here, feed her some strawberries and cream, maybe a Shakespearean sonnet or two..."

"I don't set much store in Shakespearean sonnets. I'm not...I'm not much of a poetry person."

There's something reserved in his face that makes her feel terrible for asking.

"I've really only read one worth remembering. Subtle bridges, you said, on bridges some men hang. Some ties won't give. I sometimes dream of you, and walking, in gardens where love and knowledge hang."

He bites into a strawberry, which stains his lips a bright red. She looks away a second too late.

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

After reluctantly agreeing to keep the matter of the stolen ghost jar between the two of them, she never expected to see him again. And yet, as fate would have it, they crossed paths again roughly a week later. She and one of her teammates had been assigned to a Church to handle a relatively weak Type Two, when she heard a scuffling sound from one of the rooms whose door was ajar. Her teammate froze, and she didn't feel much braver either. They approached the room cautiously, rapiers at the ready.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

"Y/N?"

The glare from their flashlights blindly darted over the room before it settled on the floor, illuminating a bleeding George looking the worse for wear, hissing at the harsh florescent light.. She visibly relaxed.

"Oh. You again."

Lockwood and Lucy exchanged a look.

"Do you two know each other?"

A silence followed. George looked to be at a loss of words and she, too, couldn't quite find the right answer.

"We've...met."

They helped George up while Lockwood smoothly explained the situation, and how they would never dream of intentionally From the derisive eye rolls of his remaining, uninjured associate, there was clearly more to their presence than he was letting on, but she wasn't paid nearly enough to go through the trouble of finding that out. Apparently, they had already dealt with the Type Two, so she filled out her report as vague as she dared to be, while they wandered out to flag down a cab.

George lingered behind briefly, dabbing at his nose experimentally while she put the finishing touches to her file.

"We can't keep meeting like this, you know."

"Like what?"

She shook her head, surprisingly having to bite back a smile. "You're incorrigible. If you keep sneaking around for much longer I'll have to report you one of these days."

He pulled his face into an exaggerated sulk and ducked as she tried to smack him with her case report.

"Alright, alright!"

True to his word, their less-than-ideal meetings came to an end. Instead, they continued to occasionally meet at that serene, refreshingly Edenic sloping hill. She'd return from a client meeting or from scoping out a location and the front desk would have a message waiting for her, from one vaguely snippy anonymous man. Sometimes he'd be waiting at the hill with snacks, which she'd ravenously dig into, though he was less generous on the biscuit front. He tells her about the happenings of 35 Portland Row and his research and bounces his latest theory on the origins of the Problem off of her. She tells him about her week, and the bothersome, inept people she works with, and on their joint cases he's snarky towards all the right people. It makes her feel special.

On one such evening, they were lazing on a picnic blanket, and a pleasantly warm breeze was toying with their hair. George was looking at the severe, fragile branches encroaching on the powdery blue sky through heavily-lidded eyes. She was absent-mindedly fiddling with his surprisingly soft fingers, distractedly breathing in the faint, antiseptic smell of ammonia that clung to his clothes. She was thinking about how sharp he was and how quickly he picked up on details on their joint cases. No matter how many times she saw him pick apart a case with a carefully perfected elegance, she felt like a part of her would forever be in awe of his beautifully intricate mind.

"Sometimes I feel like your talents are so wasted here. Imagine what you could do with access to all of Fittes' resources."

"i don't need Fittes's resources to be a good researcher."

She watches the yellow daffodils tossing their heads back just inches in front of them through her eyelashes.

"i know you don't. It can't hurt, is all I'm saying."

"Why do you care?"

She paused. Why did she care? She cared about him, sure, but it was no different from how she cared about her teammates, her friends, but with George...it somehow felt more personal. She sighs irritably, releasing the bubble of frustration lodged in her throat all week. She just wanted what was best for him. It takes her a minute to come up with her hesitant response.

"I...don't know. I don't care. But sometimes I can't help but wonder...what if this was what you needed to uncover the root of the Problem?"

He half-laughs, but stops short at the sight of her face as she lifts her head off his chest. "You can't be serious."

"Why not?"

"Y/N...statistically speaking -"

"All I'm saying is the answer could very well be in the Fittes library and you might be the only one who'd know where to look."

She lies down again, and whispers to the trees rather than George.

"Just...something to think about."

As time went on, their relationship began to bleed into more public spheres. She dropped by Portland Row occasionally, and they even had tea at her apartment once. On this particular afternoon, they were in George's room at Portland Row. She was looking through the titles on his alarmingly tall bookcases while he was at his desk, copying some runes from a book while telling her about his latest experiment with the skull. Her eyes roved over the titles restlessly, unseeingly, in a futile attempt to distract herself from her upcoming assignment. She let George's voice wash over her, pleasingly varied in tone and comfortingly familiar, soothing the itch in her brain. After a moment or two, she realises he's stopped talking, and looks up to see him staring at her with a frown on his face.

"Er, sorry. Drifted off there for a while."

"I guessed."

He studies her with an inscrutable expression and she's been caught too off-guard to come up with anything other than the letter burning a hole in her desk.

"You alright?"

She sits on a chair next to his and rests her chin on her knee, feeling oddly wooden. After getting to know George, she had taken the comfort of being able to somewhat predict his mannerisms for granted, and the thought of heading into this blind made her nervous.

"My team's been assigned a case outside of London."

"Oh. When?"

"We leave this weekend."

He looks too stunned to ask the question weighing on both their minds.

"It's for a month."

"A month," he echoes distantly, as if not quite sure what to make of that piece of information. His face remains impassive and she waits for a reaction which never comes. "What about that celebratory dinner?"

"We leave after it."

"Oh."

For someone who usually always had so much to say about anything and everything, his current conversational skills were desperately wanting. Say something. Be affected, she begs internally. She needs to hear him say it. She needs the sickness in her chest to be real, to be founded.

"It'll be...different without you." The careful look on his face makes her feel like he's picking out her emotions from her face and engineering an optimal response. "I'll miss you."

It doesn't comfort her in the way she expected it would. Suddenly, she can't even bear to look at him.

"You don't have to."

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

Either George had decided that she needed some space or he was just as pissed as she was, because she didn't see one sign of him over the next few days. Good. She hardly noticed. The thousand times a day he crossed her mind were only out of relief, and nothing else. But as much as she pretended otherwise, by the time the celebratory dinner rolled around, his absence had taken a toll on her. She couldn't tell if she was hoping or dreading seeing him again.

She was on a balcony on the upper floor, looking miserably into the radiant foliage of the gardens below, where unfamiliar faces flitted with a lightness of heart she envied. Their shadows are tall and intertwine ceaselessly, making her dizzy. Her bags were packed, her ticket was waiting on her mantle, and all loose ends were tied up. Even her one chance at happiness for the rest of her life.

There's a rustle behind her and she turns to see George standing a considerable distance away from her. He's only marginally closer than the first time they met, properly, when he was standing outside their front door and she was pacing behind the garden gate. She wants to cry in relief. Instead, she finds it in her not to look away. Maybe it's the confusing lighting, but there's a soft edge to his face.

"I thought I saw you come up here."

She doesn't say anything; she's too happy to. And yet, a part of her is still deeply unhappy with the sight in front of her.

"Have you...tried the food?"

"...it's not as good as yours."

"You must be leaving soon."

"Tomorrow." The thought makes her want to rip her face off.

"You'll be back in a month."

She drummed her fingernails against the marble railing, carefully choosing her words.

"What if things change in a month?" What if, she wanted to say, you meet someone else who loves you better than I can?

"It's only a month."

"A whole month."

"I don't understand. Why are you so afraid?"

"Because - because you'd forget me. You'd forget me, and our memories would sink six feet under, and you'd move on and my heart would break and...you wouldn't care."

She's never felt this way about anyone before, and she doesn't know how to express how badly she needs him to stay.

"I don't want to go back to not knowing you, George."

The setting sun burns into her neck and all of a sudden, she feels unbearably hot. Her hair is plastered to her forehead and her hands feel clammy. Her face is flushed and she feels ridiculous in her dress. But he's here, and she's said it, so she lets herself dream, if only for a moment.q

"I think about you every day. One month, two months, three months...I'll wait."

TAGLIST: @avdiobliss @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @mitskiswift99 @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #fanfiction #fanfic #george karim x reader #george karim imagine #george karim x you #george karim x y/n #taylor swift #wildest dreams #1989 tv #1989 era #1989 taylor's version #1989 #taylor swift 1989

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gaslightwestern · 1 month

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Hello! I'm Carmen. A 33 year-old queer writer known as gaslight on AO3. You will find original and fan works (Red Dead Redemption, my beloved) here. I write historical fiction, westerns, noirs, and mysteries and reblog related content plus classic film and video game posts. I am tag/ask game friendly, read across all genres, and would love to hear about your WIP!

—— Style: Non-linear, 3rd person past tense, playing with genre conventions, relentless and deeply troubled characters, humor and action to balance out dark themes, and trying to make the reader feel like they are watching a movie.

—— Tropes: Mutual Pining, Power of Friendship, Anti-Heroes, Found Family, Roaring Rampage of Revenge, Black-and-Gray Morality, Two Mysteries One Story, Organized Crime, "Retired" Bad Ass, Battle Couple, Disaster Bisexuals

Works in Progress

Blackwater - John Marston hires Private Detective Arthur Morgan to look into the death of Heidi McCourt, a friend who he suspects was the victim of foul play rather than suicide. His investigation leads them into the escalating war over West Elizabeth’s bootlegging industry between two powerful gangsters Arthur happens to have unpleasant and unfinished history with.

Hell's Half Acre (When Sins Haunt Prequel) - When death comes to Fort Worth and strikes her new circle of friends, Charlotte O’Shea resolves to hunt down the culprit before they kill again. Murder isn’t the only mystery in the air however. Sam and Thomas Quinn, father-and-son ex-cowboys who happen to be her colleagues and partners-in-crime-solving, are determined to uncover what made the socialite run away from New York and why she is no stranger to firearms.

—— Status: Outlining —— Links: Tag | Backstory Drabbles → Education | Rivals | Love

When Sins Haunt - When Warren Howard destroys her life again, Charlotte O'Shea goes after the outlaw and his vicious Cobalt Gang. Jack Cadwell, an old friend, crosses Charlotte's warpath when the journalist flees the wrath of a New York crime boss. To survive they must stay a step ahead of their growing list of enemies as Charlotte blazes a trail of vengeance across the American West.

—— Status: Second Draft (On Hold) —— Links: Intro | Side Characters | Tag | Update

Completed Works

Brothers (Pre-Canon AU) - Arthur struggles with the responsibility of being an older brother, particularly being looked up to, as his own actions cut away at his soul and his self-worth continues to erode. He teaches John different things along the way and strives to protect him from harm. This is easier said than done, as is Arthur's desire to prevent the kid from becoming like him. [ x ]

Among the Smoke and the Stars (Epilogue AU) - Most days the urge to run and roam coursed hot under his skin but maybe Beecher’s Hope would change that. Determined to pay off the loan for his new home, John heads to Gaptooth Breach in search of the sixty-five dollars on Esteban Cortez’s head. The thing is John isn't the only one after that bounty. [ x ]

Image Sources

Sunset Clouds - Dewang Gupta (Unsplash)

Blackwater Banner - rollawayyourbones

When Sins Haunt Banner - Sweetwater (2013)

Untitled Banner - Original Picture by Susan Fox

Red Dead Banner - Rockstar Games

Divider - @evansyhelp

If you have read this far, thank you! Please feel free to ask any questions or tell me about what you are working on. :)

#writeblr #writeblr community #writeblr intro #writeblr introduction #writeblrcafe #writeblrgarden #writing blog #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #amwriting #wip directory #writing community #Hell's Half Acre

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kay-elle-cee · 6 months

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@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 23 || 812 Words || Read on Ao3 —

“Look out!”

“Fuck!”

A sharp pain in her arm rips a cry of pain from Lily’s mouth as the contents of the folder in her hand—her portfolio, her CV, scratch paper for notes—go flying all over the pavement, some catching on the wind and blowing into the street.

All her preparation for this interview. Gone.

It only takes a split second for her attention to turn from the lost papers to the culprit of her misfortune: the man groaning as he picks himself and his electric scooter up from where he’d landed sprawled on the pavement, eyes wide and square-rimmed glasses askew on his horrified face.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” he asks, wincing as he stands. His eyes take in her stunned face and turn to the papers rustling along by their feet. “Shit, let me help you with that.”

“It’s fine.” Lily’s voice sounds emotionless to her own ears as she watches a copy of her CV get run over by the wheel of a car. Her arm is throbbing with pain and she feels oddly inspired to laugh.

“No, no, we can still—”

Lily sighs, picturing her walking into the Grunnings office—late—with her brother-in-law’s sneer following her into the room with the hiring committee. She can practically hear her sister’s shrill chiding: ‘Vernon stuck out his neck for you, you ungrateful brat. And you show up late and ill-prepared. That’s what we get for offering support, I suppose. Don’t expect any more favors from us.’

(Nevermind that she had never asked for the favor, but had been cajoled into accepting it by a concerned father.)

“None of it matters now.”

The man looks up from where he’s crouched by her feet—arm outstretched and reaching under a parked car for a rogue CV—and Lily’s eyes wander from his concerned gaze to the messy black hair that peeks out from under the helmet atop his head.

“Are you sure?” Her gaze falls back to his face and she sees his brow furrow as he looks at the paper in his hand. “This looks important. Seriously, let me—”

“I said it’s fine,” she insists, shaking her head and snatching her CV from his hand. “I wasn’t particularly…excited about this opportunity anyway.” Cramming the paper back in her folder, she lets out a long, despairing sigh as she stares at it. “I have a job right now so it’s not like it’s desperate times or anything.”

“Wait, can I see that again?”

Lily blinks in shock, looking up at the man who had knocked her over. There’s still a crease between his brows and she notices he’s fixed the set of his glasses.

“Er, why?”

“Just…the company I work for—MischiefMade Solutions—we’re actually hiring.” He raises his hand up to rub the back of his neck and Lily notes the scrapes on his elbow from their collision. “It looked like maybe you’d be a match. And ah, I could put in a referral if you’d like.”

Lily’s heart is pounding in her chest, blood roaring in her ears. MischiefMade was a dream company for her—much better than her current company, which was ineffectual at best and downright suffocating at worst.

“Why would you do that?”

The man straightens up and Lily realizes that all this time he’d been crouched low—trying to help gather her things. He’s taller than her, but not by much.

“Well I think I owe you, for one,” he states with a frown. “And two, I know the hiring manager pretty well and you seem to be exactly what she’s looking for.” He shrugs. “I’m happy to give you more information about the role. It’s not my department, but I have an okay grasp on it.”

You seem to be exactly what she’s looking for.

A little spark of hope ignites in Lily’s chest and she grips the folder tighter with excitement.

“I’d…I’d like that. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do.” His eyes dart from her face to where she’s gently holding her arm, and he smiles guiltily. “And look, tell me to piss right off if you’d rather do something else, but I feel like I owe you for that—” he gestures to her arm “—too. If you don’t have anywhere to be right now, I’d like to buy you a coffee or something, and we can chat about that position. If you want.”

Lily’s eyes widen and she’s uncertain at how unbelievably lucky her day is turning out to be after being hit by a bloody electric scooter. But she knows a sign from the universe when one’s presented to her.

“I’ll take you up on that,” she nods. “But I’m not getting on that thing.”

He lets out a laugh, and it’s a pleasant sound. “It’s not safe for two people.”

“I’d go as far as to say it’s not safe for one.”

#it's (always) you #jilytober2023 #jily #jple #james potter #lily evans #31 prompts

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avtvmnalvibes · 1 year

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Fallin’ For Ya

A/N: Hi y’all!! This is my first fic I’m posting to tumblr. I have my AO3 account in my bio, and you can find all my previous fics + this one posted there. Shoutout to @dopp-likes-yanderes because one of the asks on their blog inspired this fic this past May, and it’s been sitting half finished in my google docs account from now until today. Thank you for giving me your blessing to post this!! Also note that I’m on mobile so if anything is formatted really weird that’s the culprit. Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!!

CW: female!reader, biblical references, Philip being a Puritan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Philip Wittebane was seething.

His day had started out as it normally did these days. Go to the market, limp about, look pathetic in hopes of finding some abominable creature to trick into being his sacrifice. It had taken a turn for the worse however when the brother’s of that disappointment Blue Fang had shown up and demanded both payment and information, taking his journal and taunting him. He kept up the act, inwardly calculating whether they could be reasoned with or tricked, or whether or not he could kill them without repercussions, when he had been saved by a foolhardy young witch who was oddly eager to accompany him. Her knowledge of the Collector made her easier prey then he ever could have hoped for, and he had decided that things were finally coming up Wittebane, when suddenly.

“…and this is my Aunt uh….Dirtrude and uh-“

“(Y/N) will do just fine, Luzura.”

He felt something creep up his spine, both pleasant and unpleasant, turned his gaze slightly to the side, and felt his mouth fall open.

Caleb was laughing from beyond the grave, he knew it. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he would say that Caleb had orchestrated this, some supernatural, eternal, annoying older brother ability to push him to his limits. Because there, in front of him, stood the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen in his life. Pure temptation, the likes of which he had only heard in sermons and in his brother’s voice when he talked about her.

Hence the seething.

He listened to ‘Luzura’ chatter on about something about crabs, or toe-gres, or something else of little consequence compared to the emotions he was trying to keep at bay. He was NOT like Caleb. Caleb had been weak, he had succumbed to temptation, fornication, and witchcraft. Philip was a good, God-fearing man, who would take a HUMAN wife, thank-you-very-much and be fruitful with HER.

His internal rant was broken up by a shriek, and he came to as someone crashed into his back. Hands clutched onto his chest and back, perfume filling the air, and he pushed down the sharp, breath-catching arousal that came with the feeling. He turned around sharply, gripping her waist with aggression, hard enough to bruise, and was stopped short before he could react in any way shape or form.

Her kerchief, the one that had been tied round her head, had slipped in her fall, and had revealed her ears.

Her round ears.

He finally allowed the attraction that he had been fighting back to flood his body, and he felt his blood coursing through his veins, warming him and turning his brain foggy as he stared at the woman, the human woman in front of him. The very sensations he had been attempting to drown out just seconds ago were allowed back. The feel of her body, warm beneath his, the scent of her. He had never been so aroused in his entire life, and all he could do was internally crow to his brother, to beyond the grave.

“See? I can only be tempted by a human woman! You who so quickly gave into a mistress of Satan, a follower of the Devil, but not me!”

His focus was returned by the sound of her voice, her face so close to his that he could feel her breath across his face and neck.

“Oh, Mr. Wittebane, are you alright? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you like that, I-“

“Don’t trouble yourself for one second Miss (Y/N), I assure you, I am not in the least bit angry.”

She seemed taken aback at this, and tilted her head to the side.

“….You’re not?”

He grinned, giddier than he ever had as a boy, and wound his arms tighter around her waist, pulling her close to him and delighting in the way her face flushed and breath quickened.

“On the contrary! My dear Miss (Y/N), I have but one question; why didn’t you tell me that you too were human?”

She paled, one hand darting up to cover her ear, and he found that he quite preferred her flustered to frightened.

“I’m terribly sorry for deceiving you Mr. Wittebane but, well…you know better than anyone how hard it can be for a human on the Boiling Isles. Besides, we didn’t know whether you would take kindly to another human…so we elected that it was best to hide it.”

We…we? Oh! Right. He’d been so enraptured that he’d forgotten that they had company. He looked over to their other traveling companions and found that they had reassured themselves of her well-being when he had caught her and had begun to amble ahead, moving slowly so as not to leave them behind.

“I understand Miss (Y/N). You’re quite right of course; I know the trials a human on the Boiling Isles faces all too well. I must confess to being a tad offended that you could think me hostile towards other humans, however the logical side of me understands your caution and finds it prudent.”

She turned her face up to him, her chin resting on his chest as she faced him fully, and he felt something within his chest clench. Dear God…

“Your forgiveness is deeply appreciated Mr. Wittebane.”

“Philip. Please.”

He spoke before he could stop himself, words spilling over his lips, which he clamped shut before any more of the contents of his heart and mind could be revealed.

He saw a flush rise up her cheeks, and felt one of his own creep up to match, heart pounding desperately in his chest she had to have felt it given her proximity.

“Alright Mr.- Philip. Then you must call me (Y/N). No ‘Miss’ in front of it. Just (Y/N).”

He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and lingering, savoring the moment as if it was the last meal he would ever receive.

“(Y/N)….it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She exhaled shakily, eyes wide and lips parted, and Philip Wittebane swore he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Like Adam before Eve, he had never felt such an assured sense of belonging to someone in his whole life.

“Hey, are you guys alright back there? You’ve been standing still for like, 10 minutes.”

He turned his head to look behind him, and saw Luzura staring at them with an expression of concern on her face, Dirtrude next to her still scribbling away in her little notebook and muttering something about ‘Deadwardian Balustrades’.

“We’re just fine Luz,”

(Y/N) called out, and he took a great deal of satisfaction in the breathiness of her voice.

That satisfaction was quickly replaced by disappointment and annoyance as she left his hold and his arms, though he was reassured slightly by her catching his arm as she walked past, holding onto the sleeve of his coat as they walked side by side.

“So…Philip. How much longer until we get to where we’re headed?”

Luzura’s voice piped up. For a moment Philip prepared to create the transportation circle of glyphs, body several steps ahead of him, when suddenly, he did what he was best at; he thought. And in this brief moment of thought, his mind stalling his body before he could move to scratch a single glyph into the dirt beneath his feet, he came up with a plan. It was a little rushed admittedly, and less a full fledged plan as much as it was a little subterfuge that he would use to shape the rest of the events that followed into the result he desired, but still. When the result would be marrying the woman he was increasingly sure was the yoke mate that William Whately had described in his sermon The Bride Bush, how could he resist enacting it?

“Oh dear! The time we spent lingering back there has cost us. I’m afraid we won’t make it before nightfall.”

Everyone’s faces morphed into varying degrees of horror and dismay.

“But it’s not safe to travel during the night! And we’re too far from Bonesborrough to head back now!”

Dirtrude’s voice was shrill with panic, eyes darting around as if she could see imaginary creatures swooping in and carrying them off as they attempted to travel safely. Perfect.

“Thankfully, I’ve explored these stretches of woods many times before. I know a safe place to spend the night nearby. I often find I’d rather risk the cruelty of nature as opposed to that of the townspeople.”

The whole party looked at him in pity, and he felt a thrill as (Y/N) laid her other hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention to her as she gazed up at him.

“How far away is this place?”

“Not far. A little ways behind us, but not enough that we shan’t reach it before the sun sets, and not so out of the way that it will inconvenience us when we get our start tomorrow.”

(Y/N) looked around at her companions, conferring silently with them until she nodded and turned her attention back to him.

“Lead the way then Philip.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Philip wrote in his journal, his work illuminated by the fire they had set for warmth. His description of (Y/N) was coming along nicely, her temperament and mannerisms unfolding easily beneath his pen.

He looked over to his side, and saw her face illuminated by the fire, resting and peaceful.

“Soon neither of us shall have to worry about any danger the Boiling Isles have to offer.”

He muttered, as he began a few detailed sketches of her. Her as she lay beside him now, her blushing as she looked up at him, her face broken out into a smile.

“Bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.”

Never before had the meaning of the Word of God seemed so clear to him. William Whately’s words rang through his head once again, his teachings on the virtues necessary for marriage striking a chord beyond the academic and theological interest he had once observed the sermon with.

“We’ll find our way home (Y/N), don’t fret. Once I’ve rid this world of evil, I’ll be able to take you home to Gravesfield and marry you.”

He blew gently on the ink to dry it, observing her likeness fondly as he turned to gaze upon the real thing. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Sweet dreams my love.”

#emperor belos x reader #philip wittebane x reader #female!reader #the owl house #toh #emperor belos #fanfic #fanfiction #philip wittebane #ao3

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fortheloveofarchons · 2 months

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Neuvillette bakes some macarons for the others...

Inspired by @onaxart_ on Instagram, Tiktok and Twitter!

Go check her out and give her a follow, her art is amazing!!

C.W. - A Neuvi/Wrio ship - Characters such as Aether, Paimon and Sigewinne are included - Fluff and domestic fluff - Baking - Cookies - Mentioned Navia, Clorinde and Furina

In the cosy embrace of the kitchen, lies a white-haired man humming a tune while he decorates his cookies. From his many years spent in Fontaine as a human, one of the things he noticed was the evolution of desserts. Although the Chief Justice does not indulge in desserts, his keen sense of perception allows him to understand the joy of sweet food that indulges in human society.

Rainbow Macarons, Coffee Bavarois, Pate de Fruit, Conch Madeleine, Fruity Trio, Blubber Profiterole, and Fontaine’s famous La Lettre a Focalors are truly artisan crafts in Fontainians’ kitchens.

As a token of appreciation for the upcoming holiday where people give their friends, families, and lovers their own gift of love, Neuvillette wishes to adapt himself into this special day by making some rainbow macarons. He has heard that making desserts can be a special occasion for humans. It can be a sign that someone’s birthday was afoot, or perhaps a festival. As such, desserts held special places in humans’ hearts, for their dedicated baking was an act of love, a way to show that they were special and worth celebrating.

Although Neuvillette does not understand how an individual could bring themselves to consume deep-fried foods like Fish and Chips, or oily food like Garlic Baguette, or even grilled food without a sauce to balance out the flavours.

He’ll never forget those Charcoal-Baked Ajikenakh Cakes, the most dehumidifying food he has ever seen. Truly the worst culprit in the Chief Justice’s eyes!

While he has heard that Miss Navia’s favourite hobby is making macarons and sharing them with the ones she cares deeply about, he could not possibly ask her for the recipe because he feels distant from her, as if he’s observing the starry night sky from the bottom of the deep lake. Even with Miss Navia’s apology for her emotional outburst and accusations of his cold-blooded heart, his heart still feels an uncomfortable tinge of guilt, for what has happened to her father.

After all, human emotions are not like water. They do not settle quickly once agitated, nor do they naturally incline towards equilibrium.

Perhaps, by making these human treats himself, could he understand more about the human experience of trying something new. He has been indulging himself in ceramics, perhaps baking would be something he would be interested in the future.

With careful consideration, he decided that making cookies would be best instead of macarons. After putting the cookies on a tray, Neuvillette’s dark blue eyes sparkle as he watches the cookies slowly bake inside of the oven. While he waits for them to finish baking, he thinks about who he wishes to send the desserts to.

One for Wriothesley, and of course, we can’t forget Sigewinne . His eyebrows knit as he remembers. The traveller and Paimon are no exception, and I mustn't leave out Miss Navia and Miss Clorinde. Unfortunately, I only made a small batch, so I don’t have enough to distribute to the Melusines and the others that have aided in preventing the prophecy… A shame.

Ding!

Oh, it’s done.

~~~~~~

Aether didn’t know what the occasion was when Neuvillette invited him to the Fortress of Meropide.

Did something happen?

Why would Monsieur Neuvillette ask me to visit him in this place?

Unless… Does this concern the Duke?

Although his heart is certain that this letter would most likely involve Wriothesley, this was not what the traveller had expected when the white haired man gave him a small bag of heart-shaped cookies in Wriothesley’s office.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, this is…” Aether blinks once, twice, and then looks down at his hands, staring at the colourful cookies made by the Chief Justice of Fontaine. Next to him, Paimon is practically drooling from her gifted bag as well, her eyes sparkling with joy from seeing such sweet delicacies in her tiny hands.

“Well well,” Wriothesley holds the bag of heart-shaped cookies close to his face with one hand, his other hand resting on his waist, eyeing Neuvillette with a smirk. “I never thought that there would come the time where the Chief Justice of Fontaine would give us something sweet.”

“I…” Neuvillette coughs, then folds his arms defensively, making his stance. “I made them myself, and there is nothing wrong in indulging in human festivities.”

That only made Wriothesley raise an eyebrow to him.

Meanwhile, Sigewinne has already unwrapped her bag, her eyes widening at the sight of the pink and white cookies that nestled inside like precious jewels. Each one was a work of art, its smooth surface adorned with pink and white chocolate cream and delicate dustings of powdered sugar.

“Can we eat it now?” Paimon flies down to look at Sigewinne’s bag, her excitement increases from smelling the freshly baked desserts.

“Of course you can.” Neuvillette says, reaching a hand out for them to try. “Please, help yourself. I hope the flavour is to your liking.”

Without hesitation, everyone slowly unwraps their own bag, and plucks out one of the cookies of the bag. While Aether, Paimon and Sigewinne happily take a bite, Wriothesley hesitates for a few seconds, looking down at his cookie...

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bookreviewcoffee · 1 month

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The Red Palace June Hur

How about plunging into 18th century Joseon, that beautiful ancient era. Stroll the streets of the capital city, exploring the many goods in the market, walk through the forest, climb mountains and of course, visit the imperial palace. The Red Palace entices you with its incredible beauty. But be warned, the palace also holds many secrets. And one of these secrets will have to solve the main character.Inside the palace, it's usually quiet. The courtiers and servants are doing their masters' errands, the ministers and the king are solving state affairs, the concubines are peacefully strolling through the imperial garden, enjoying its picturesque beauty. The young girl Hyun, thanks to her hard work, gets a position as a palace nurse. However, one night changes the former calmness of the palace. Someone brutally murders four female nurses. And Hyun's close friend and mentor becomes the prime suspect in this serious crime. Not believing that the mentor could do such a terrible thing, the heroine decides to investigate the murder herself in order to find the true culprit. In this she is assisted by police inspector Ojin, who is also looking for the culprit. Despite the initial distrust and disagreements, they begin to work together. All for the sake of solving this bloody crime.The Red Palace is not only a fascinating story, but also a colourful description. Ms Hör has tried to recreate a realistic picture of life in Joseon, describing its atmosphere, culture, and the little things that help us to understand the country's peculiarities. This allows us, the readers, to immerse ourselves in the story and become a real witness to all the events that took place. The author's vision of the period makes the book particularly attractive.I also liked the main characters. It's impossible not to fall in love with them! Young Hyun impresses me with her strength, tenacity and determination. The way she fights against social prejudice and strives for success is inspiring. The way to achieve her goals is not easy, but the heroine does not intend to give up, she will get justice.And in this she will help Inspector Seo. I have to admit, this man won my heart. Ojin is a very calm, but no less determined, young man. He, like the heroine, wants to know the truth. I also liked the fact that he doesn't overshadow Hyun, but acts as an intellectual partner. The characters became a perfectly coordinated team.Well, The Red Palace is a truly fascinating historical novel. The atmosphere, characters and plot pierce to the heart, leaving a lasting impression. I recommend this book to anyone looking for thrilling adventure, intricate mysteries and colourful descriptions of events.

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o0mellowdramatic0o · 10 months

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Author's note: This is probably super cringe, but my sister had a dream, and it inspired me to write this for her.

Pairing: Hobie brown x reader

Enjoy!?!?

Inconsistent

The party had been.... loud. She could feel the bass in her chest, and in any other situation, with any other song, she would have been okay with the feeling.

She should have never let her friend push her into coming to this party. It was a mistake. She knew she would just be sitting on the couch, playing on her phone (which died), and petting the tiny dog someone had brought. She wouldn't even touch the food or drinks, not trusting it. She was what people would call boring. She preferred staying home, listening to her music, and playing games, hanging out with her friends, not strangers. Said friend had disappeared ages ago, leaving to most likely hook up with some hot Brit.

She was exhausted, her social meter having drained hours ago and then some. She probably would have cried when she saw that it was two o'clock in the morning if it weren't for the host shouting that they had to end it early. 'Early?!!? Two in the morning is considered fucking early,' she thought to herself as the crowd whined and groaned. The host looked worried as hell, in turn, making her worry too, maybe something happened.

It was about an hour before everyone was gone, with everyone either saying goodbyes or just not wanting to leave. Until it was just her, waiting on her friend, just waiting on her friend.

As she looked around nervously, she noticed just how big of a mess had been made. Beer cans and bottles littered the ground. Suspicious substances and trash are scattered everywhere, making her cringe as she realized that what she was smelling wasn't the party-goers. She wanted to throw up, she had a headache. Why did people enjoy this? Where the hell was her friend?

'Best thing to do would probably be to clean up. While I wait,' she thought to herself, heading for the kitchen. She hoped they wouldn't mind if she used their cleaning supplies.

"Stealing stuff are we," she jumped at the sudden voice coming from behind her. All she let out was a gasp at the surprise, spinning around to meet the culprit in the eye. He leaned against the counter with a grin, his punk attire and incredible hair and piercings immediately screaming out to her. When he raised a thick brow at her, she realized that she, in fact, hadn't answered him yet.

She was quick to shake her head then, motioning to the cleaning supplies and then back to herself. "O-oh n-no! I was just going to clean up," she whispered, holding up her hands in surrender. He chuckled at that, making her confused in the process. "You didn't even make this mess, love. I saw you," he accused her, pushing himself off the counter to stand to his full height. Even with her crouching down like she was, she could tell he was tall, even without the platforms he was wearing. He was easily 6'3 without the shoes. She also didn't fail to notice the color choice for his laces. Yeah, he was definitely punk.

"And sorry to say, but I think your mates ditched you," he added, watching her face fall a little. As quickly as it fell, her face formed to that of anger just as quickly. She spun around, snatching the cleaning supplies from under the kitchen sink and trying not to cry in front of this random stranger as she muttered angrily to herself. "Of course, fuck," the man could just barely make out between it all.

When she stood up, he was quick to grab her arm, making her spin around and stare at him in surprise. "Let me help you with that love," he encouraged, taking the roll of trash bags from her elbow. She was even more surprised now. From his laid-back attitude to his entire get-up, she had assumed he wouldn't even care if someone had taken a shit on the tables. "You really don't have to. I just wanted to do something nice for this guy," she insisted, shuffling things around in her arms and using her now free arm to try and take the roll from his hand.

He was quick to lift the roll above his head, earning a slight furrow of her brows in agitation. "And what if I want to do something nice for this gal right in front of me," he questioned with a raised brow and a smug grin. She raised a brow in confusion as she looked him up and down, 'maybe he's a little drunk.' "Really, I assumed you wouldn't care about any of this, most people who come to these parties don't," she responded, motioning to the case in point surrounding them both.

He hummed and nodded at the fair point before grinning again, "It's a good thing I don't believe in consistency then, yeah?"

His quip made her snort in amusement, a grin spreading across her own features. Eventually, she relented, shaking her head almost fondly, "Fine, just- be safe when you head outside. Wouldn't want some bum with a knife to get ya. Yeah?" She mocked, obvious fake accent shining through. "I'll be fine, love," he insisted, ripping off a bag and opening it.

~~~

So it began, silently between the two they both cleaned the rooms. She tossed suspicious substances down the toilet while he tossed beer cans in the trash bag.

The whole thing took almost an hour, but before they knew it, they both stood next to each other, admiring the living room and kitchen. "I think it looks clearer than before. You clean up well," the man complimented, eyeing and nudging her as he did. She looked up at him and grinned before looking back. "Yeah, wish there was something I could do about the smell, though," she responded, grimacing at the reminder.

"Honestly, I don't think there's anything you could do," he shot back, jingling his keys in his hand. "Regardless, thank you for your help," she spoke as she gathered her things and yawned. "Wait, where're you goin'," he stopped her as she headed for the door, earning a confused look from her. "Home, my friend left, remember, I'll probably have to catch a taxi," she explained. He shook his head, "Nah love, it's the middle of the night. I can't let you do that."

She eyed him suspiciously at his statement, glancing at the clock as she thought it over. He hadn't really given her any reasons to not trust him, and she wasn't really getting any bad vibes from him. In the end, she agreed, hoping her intuition wasn't wrong this time.

She followed him to his van, shocked as he opened the passenger door for her. Not only was he fine as fuck, but he was a gentleman too, maybe her intuition was correct.

She told him the address, and he nodded knowingly as he pulled out of the driveway. She nodded to the music as he drove, not recognizing the song but enjoying the beat regardless.

"I know it was probably a bit strange for someone like me to be at a party like that," she spoke over the music, breaking the silence between them. He glanced at her, telling her that she had his attention. She cleared her throat before continuing, "but thank you for playing along with it." He scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, "Don't even say that. It was different. Most of these twat's don't give a rats ass anyhow." She smiled, humming in response. That was, before a yawn ripped itself from her.

She was quick to apologize, but he simply waved it off. "Nah, just rest. I'll wake ya up when we get there," he assured her lowly, turning down the music to the point where it was simply background noise. She shook her head with a smile, mumbling a small, "I'll be fine."

~~~

One minute, she was saying that, then the next, she was in her apartment, in her bed. She gasped once she realized what that meant. She fell asleep in a stranger's van. How stupid could she be. She sat up and looked around. He was nowhere to be found, and nothing seemed to be missing or out of place. Hell, she was still in the clothes she was in last night.

She sighed in relief, sliding out from under her covers and letting her legs dangle off the side of the bed.

That's when she noticed a sticky note, sitting on her bedside table. She picked it up and snickered at the chicken scratch before her. Though the more she read, the more she couldn't deny the fluttering feeling growing in her chest.

'You really need better friends. XXX-XXX-XXXX'

Author's note: I hope you did enjoy!!! Pls let me know what you thought!😊

#hobie x reader #astv hobie #hobie x you #hobie brown #hobie my beloved #reader insert #x reader

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karahofthedawn · 9 months

Note

-sigh- I miss you’re writing, “You Owe Us One” is one of my favorite series! Lately I came up with this idea, I hope maybe you’ll be interested in using it, where Reader is still stressing over school and pressure from her parents (like what she’d been dealing with in Part 4) and Fred’s way to make her feel better would be to bully the Harry into giving him the password to the prefects bathroom and making it all romantic for her like a huge bubble bath. Because he’s not very good with words, like George and he doesn’t always know the right thing to say, but she can’t help feel overwhelmed with love and care and just cries and they have an intimate bath? idk idk could be fun? maybe it leads to some smut…who’s to say…😂🤷‍♀️

You Owe Us One - An Apology

Fred Weasley x Reader

Ask and you shall receive!! I hope this is what you were looking for.

I do miss writing the twins, so I may start back up again.

Thanks for giving me inspiration. 💜

Words: 3.5k

Contains: smut

There you are, letter in hand trudging down the corridor to the Hufflepuff common room. This isn’t the first time you’ve received a letter of the sorts, though it has been a month or so since the last. Your eyes burn from the tears threatening to burst out of you. You have to make it back to your dorm. Everyone else would still be in classes or having lunch. Just a minute or two to break down alone would be enough to get you through the rest of the day.

Why, is all you can think as you pass by a window. The sky seems to be reflecting how you feel internally, dark heavy clouds holding back everything they have as they pass over the castle. There was no forecast of rain today, but you knew even in just a glance that it would pour.

Why does she always have to see the worst in me? Your thoughts echo as you travel past the fruit painting that leads to the kitchen. You want to reflect on the good times you had with the Weasley brothers by sneaking into the cabinets late at night to get a quick snack, but it is almost impossible with the remembrance of the letter from your mother burning at the forefront of your brain.

She always knew just how to bring you down.

“Hey,” someone calls from the far end of the hall. You take a deep breath, centering yourself before turning to the familiar voice. It was who you expected - Fred, of course. You had completely forgotten to meet him in the garden after breakfast.

“Fred,” you say sweetly. “I’m so sorry, I just - “you pause and quickly tuck the letter in your black and gold coat.

“Completely forgot about me,” he says with a broad smile, pinching your cheek as he reaches you.

You tilt your head and roll your eyes. “Forget you? That would be impossible.”

“That right?” He crosses his arms and leans towards you. “Then I guess you must have gotten lost. Gardens are on the other side of the castle.”

As much as you love to banter with him, you just didn’t have it in you. “I know, I know.” You rub the bridge of your nose as another wave of anxiety races through your body. “This just isn’t a good time right now, okay?”

You turn to leave, but Fred steps in front of you. “What, are you going off to snog one of those Hufflepuff boys?” He challenges with a raise of an eyebrow.

He was kidding, you know this, but just the thought of trying to defend yourself against such a silly notion almost sends you over the edge. “Fred, please.”

“I’m just playing with-”

“I can’t right now,” you say sternly and push past him. You tap and open the Hufflepuff door and immediately slip in without a word.

Fred watches you with a puzzled expression as you disappear behind the barrels. Laying on the floor was a folded piece of parchment that fell from your coat as you rushed off. Fred kneels down and takes it delicately between his fingers.

“You must be the culprit,” he says to himself while eyeing your mother’s name.

—-------- Later that afternoon—----------

George slams the paper down on the table, causing the rest of the Gryffindors to jump and stare at the twins reproachfully. His face was as red as a phoenix as he recounted what he read in the letter. “And this is- this is her own mother?”

“Yeah, quite messed up, isn’t it?” Fred responds solemnly.

“To say the least,” he huffs and squints at the words in front of him again, still trying to take in how unbelievably cruel they were. “Useless? Pathetic? A disgrace to their lineage?”

Fred quickly snatches the page from his brother and tucks it in his back pocket. “I know what it says, you don’t have to tell the whole castle.”

“Sorry,” he sighs and leans back on the chair. “I can’t stand this woman. Our mother -”

“Our mother would never,” Fred finishes for him. “I know, and I made some stupid joke about her snogging someone else.”

George continues to stare down at the table where the letter used to be. “You didn’t know, don’t be too hard on yourself. I’m sure Y/N will understand.”

“Right,” he says while pulling at the sleeves of his undershirt. “But I’ve been thinking that I should make it up to her.” Fred felt a ton of guilt, and the truth was that he wasn’t entirely sure if she even wanted him to read that letter in the first place. So what if him bringing it up just made her feel worse, to know that others know how her own mother treats her?

“How do you intend to do that?” George tilts his head back to look at his brother. “Another trip to the Room of Requirement?”

“No,” Fred says simply. “I was thinking something different.”

George lifts his brows and kicks his feet up on the table. “Well that’s a first from you.”

“You can’t possibly believe that’s all I want from Y/N,” he snaps back, which makes his brother drop his smug expression. “I have something in mind, I just need -” his words are cut off as he notices his younger brother Ron and his friends enter the common room. A smirk slowly stretches across his face and he beelines towards them.

“Ron, really, I can’t keep looking over all of your work,” a frustrated Hermione hisses at Ron who pretends to not hear her. She takes the roll of parchment and forces it into Harry’s hand.

“I don’t know anything about this,” Harry spouts and tries to hand it back to her.

“I don’t care, and frankly you two should have been doing your own work years ago!”

“Oh, come off it,” Ron snaps. “It’s only a few paragraphs and I’ve already written it. You know I’m terrible at grammar and all that.”

“Even more reason for you to do this yourself,” she says smugly. “As a prefect-”

Harry stands in the middle of the two as they continue to bicker. He did what he learned from the Dursley’s, completely dissociating until they wear themselves out.

“Just who I wanted to see,” Fred announces as he snakes his arm around his brother’s flaming red neck.

“Not right now,” Ron grunts and tries to push Fred off of him. It was no use though, as his grip just tightened even more around his neck.

“This is urgent, so yes, right now.” He tugs him forward, sending Ron off the hilt and into a chair.

“Urgent?” Hermione asks while scanning his hands for some kind of new invention. They had gone toe to toe over them not testing on first years enough times, that she always assumes it’s something to do with that now.

“Yes, for Y/N,” he admits, which makes her shoulders drop immediately.

Hermione perks up, “is she alright?”

“I mean physically, yes.” Fred scowls down at his younger brother and his messy copper hair. “I just need, well, a favor.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Ron scoffs and crosses his arms. “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much,” he says nonchalantly before dropping down to his level. “Just the password to the Prefect bathroom.”

“That’s it?” Harry asks as he finally starts to listen again.

“That’s it!” Fred exclaims. “I just need the password and then I can be on my way.”

“No,” Ron says bluntly.

Fred’s smile drops. “No?”

“No,” Ron reiterates with an even harsher tone. “I don’t know what weird prank you have planned, but I actually like that bathroom thank you very much.”

Fred takes a breath to calm himself. “It’s not for a prank.”

Ron waves his hand dramatically. “Well whatever plan you have in your head, I want no part of it.”

Hermione steps in before Fred can reply. “You said it has something to do with Y/N?”

He nods as he runs his hand through his long red hair in frustration. “I really don’t want to say what it is. Why can’t you just trust me?”

Ron rolls his eyes. “What are you mental? I can answer that with a million different reasons-”

“I’ll give it to you,” Hermione pipes up and places hand on Ron’s shoulder. “If it’s something for her, then I trust your intentions.” She had seen how protective the Weasley brothers were over Y/N. Whatever he had planned, her gut knew that it was important to him.

Fred nods and lets out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t about to beg, but digging up blackmail on Ron would have taken up time he didn’t have.

“Thanks,” he says simply while looking at Hermione. “You always were my favorite of Ron’s friends.”

Harry’s mouth goes slack. Hermione beams.

------- Later that evening---------------

A screech wakes you up from a nap, making you sit up in bed at once. You rub at your eyes until the blurred circle at the edge of your bed comes into view. An owl - a small brown one with large golden eyes. Tied to its legs is a letter. Even at a distance you can see that it is addressed to you. Your heart drops, your mother never sent two letters in one day. Though, she wouldn’t use any other owl but her own.

You reach out and untie it quickly, hoping to solve the mystery of the sender before it sends another wave of anxiety. Your fingers trail over the letters, they didn’t look familiar to you at all. It was written sloppily with black ink and off center. You turn the back and slip your nail under the crease to open it.

Y/N,

I’m sorry for the stupid joke I made earlier. I know there’s no boy in Hufflepuff that can compete with me.

Your smile falters when you remember how cold you were with Fred. What he said was something he didn’t need to apologize for.

Meet me in the Prefect bathroom at 1am. The password is ‘Pine Fresh’.

Yours,

Fred

You have no idea what to expect from Fred, but the idea of being alone with him sends your heart on a rocket to the moon. You just hope that your low mood doesn’t sway him off of whatever he has planned.

—------------- 1AM—---------------

The time moved so quickly that the next thing you knew, you were already at the Prefect bathroom. You stare at the door, not entirely sure how to open it. You clear your throat and softly whisper the password that was written on the letter. The large wooden doors slowly swing open and reveal the massive bathroom behind it.

The moon peeks through the large pane window and glides across the ripples of water from the giant bath in the middle. It must have just been freshly filled, as the steam was rolling off the top and into the dark. You step forward and the doors shut behind you. The soft lapping of water can be heard against the marble siding of the tub. Large sculptures and paintings line the room, giving it an ethereal feeling that you’ve never experienced before.

That’s when you spot a silhouette at the corner of the bath. The moon’s rays capture Fred’s copper hair laying delicately on his broad freckled shoulders as he turns his head to you. He snaps his fingers and small objects begin floating around the water, some hovering right over - others keeping still at the edges. He spoke softly and objects revealed themselves to be candles, just like the ones you once saw in the Room of Requirement. You gasp as you are able to finally see the rest of the scenery. Flower pedals are strewn across the floor and dancing across the top of the water. It smells of roses and lilies, your two favorite scents.

“You made it,” he says with a smile.

“Of course I did,” you laugh as your eyes wander around the marble walls. “What’s this all about?”

Fred lifts his feet from the water and walks towards you with his arms outstretched. “What, I can’t do something nice for my girlfriend?”

Your heart jumps hearing him say the word, ‘girlfriend’. You still haven’t gotten used to that yet. “No, that’s not it,” you say shyly while letting him envelope you. His bare chest is warm against your cheek as he runs his fingers through your hair.

Fred pulls back and kisses your forehead. “Come on,” he whispers. “Let’s get undressed and take a little dip.”

“Okay,” you say breathily as he turns and slips off his pants. You remove your clothes one by one, folding them as you go and laying them by the stairs that lead to the tub. Instinctively you hold your arms over your breasts as you get to the water’s edge. Fred holds out his hand to take yours then guides you into the tub.

The water was at a perfect temperature and the floral scents immediately greeted you at once. Your hair floats over the top as you get to the deeper part where Fred stands waiting. He pulls you in and brushes the wet strands from your forehead. There was something different about his expression that you just couldn’t place.

“What is it?” You ask as you reach up to stroke his face with the back of your hand.

“Nothing,” he says with a strained tone. His copper irises reflect a candle that passes behind you, and he furrows his brows. “I just, I wanted to tell you -” His pupils dart away as he perpetually begins shifting his body more. “I think that you’re amazing.”

“Oh,” you say with large eyes and a rose tint reaching your cheeks. “I think you are too, Fred.”

He licks his lips, his face moving closer to yours. He was concentrating on exactly what words he needed to use to express exactly how he felt. “And if anyone tells you otherwise, you should ignore them.”

You crease your brows together, as you’re trying to understand where this is coming from. Fred was never the type to give these types of speeches.

“Even if it’s a teacher, or a slytherin, or.. Even a parent,” he drifts off as he sees your expression change, this time to complete shock.

“The letter,” you mutter while backing up. “How did you know?”

“You dropped it,” he answers quickly. “It’s awful -”

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” you squeak out and fall back onto a step, and land with your head just above water. You were able to forget, even just for an hour, and here it was being shoved in your face yet again. It wasn’t just the old wounds reopening, but you are also deeply embarrassed.

“I know,” he admits and kneels in front of you. “Please, Y/N, I didn’t want to upset you. I read it and I just, I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“Well,” you rub at your face with your palms. “I’m not! Okay?” You feel yourself falling back into shambles as the memories of your mother’s words come back to you, engraving in your brain as they were on the paper.

“O-okay,” Fred stammers and sits to the side of you. He glances between the moon and your red face. He was never good at these things, but he was going to try his best. “I don’t think anyone would really be okay after that.”

You shake your head and collapse against him. “You don’t know what it’s like,” you sob out. The seal of control has been broken, and now there was no stopping the tears. “No matter what I do, I’m never enough.”

Fred’s warm fingers trail from the base of your neck and tangle in your wet hair. He pulls you against the crook of his neck as you slowly fall apart.

“I get good grades. I never get in trouble. I do everything right but I will always be the worst to her.” Your eyes well so many tears that the scene around you goes blurry. “What am I supposed to do?”

There is a lump in Fred’s throat as you speak. He can feel how raw and visceral your pain is. If there was one spell he knew that would lift the pain from inside your chest, he would have sold his soul right then and there to make that happen for you. “I think,” he says softly, pulling your face back so he can look you directly in the eyes. “You should start living for yourself and say fuck all to her.” He holds your chin gingerly with his fingers. “They are going to regret doubting you, Y/N. You are an amazing witch and a wonderful person.” His thumbs catch your tears on your cheek. “And if you ever forget how special you are, then I will be here to remind you.”

Just like that, the dam finally fully opens and you wrap your arms around his neck sobbing. Never in your life have you felt so emotionally vulnerable, and you thank Merlin that it is with Fred. You stay wrapped up in his arms for what felt like an eternity as you let out every emotion that you’ve held back for years. He remains silent and holds you tightly against his chest until your sobs slow, and your breathing goes from spastic to rhythmic.

The world finally comes back to you after the surge of intensity passes. You realize that not only is the room quiet, but so is your head. That nagging self hatred has lulled itself back into the deep recesses of your mind for now.

You sit up and look into Fred’s face. He grins at you as his eyes flick back and forth, trying to read your expression. “Thank you,” you say hoarsely. Then without any hesitation you add, “I love you, Fred.”

Fred’s mouth goes slack and he pulls you into a hug. You wrap your legs around his waist and perch yourself on his lap as he looks dumbstruck up at you. “I love you too, Y/N.” Those words leaving his mouth felt other worldly, but he knew there was nobody else on earth who deserved them more than you.

Hearing him say it back lit a fire inside of you. You meet his lips with yours, and he immediately grabs you by the hips and matches your energy. Just like that, the pain was gone and was replaced with passion. Your tongues dance as he guides the edge of your cunt onto his erection. You gasp and dig your nails into his shoulders as you press down on him.

He grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back as your walls finally accept him fully. You moan his name as his cock pulsates deep inside of you, his hips staying pressed against yours. His fingers dig into your sides as you begin riding him slowly.

The water didn’t help the lubrication as much as you would have thought. If anything, it made him feel bigger than ever. You do your best to relax your muscles as you continue to move up and down on his shaft, but that’s quickly made more challenging as his fingers find your clit.

Fred licks his lips hungrily as he watches you with dinner plate pupils. “Keep going, you’re doing so fucking good,” he says in a low growling voice.

You do as you're told, even though your legs begin shaking violently as an orgasm approaches. “Fred,” you groan and roll your head back. “Please, I’m going - going to-”

He laughs through a moan and begins thrusting from underneath you. “Go ahead, darling. Cum for me.”

You cry out as another thrust sends you right over the edge. You crumble against him as he continues to use your body. The water splashes and spills over the marble walls of the bath as he increases his speed. He holds your neck tight, but not enough to cut off oxygen, so that he could watch your face as he cums. You feel his hips shudder and he pushes you down hard against his lap.

“Fuck!” He yells out and pulls you into a kiss by your neck.

You squirm against him as he fills you to the brim, leaving you shaking and helpless against his chest. He rolls his head back and releases the tension on your neck and side. “Merlin’s beard, how are you this good every time?”

You laugh and then whimper as he pulls himself out of you. “I swear, our bodies are made for each other.”

He kisses the top of your head and combs through your hair. “Georgie and I really have the best girlfriend out there,” he laughs. “Fuck.”

You never understood what they saw in you, but every day you’re starting to believe them more and more. Besides, he was right, you were going to start living for yourself. Who cares what your mom thinks anymore. You’re a legal adult and don’t have to follow any of those self esteem killing rules any longer.

You just hope, more than anything, that Fred and George will continue to stand by your side every day.

You wrap your arms around Fred’s chest and breathe out. “This is the best apology I’ve ever gotten.”

Fred smirks and stares up at the statues among the ceiling. “And it’s the best one I’ve ever given.”

#harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley smut #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader

117 notes · View notes

emeralddoeadeer · 3 months

Note

Doe! So excited to see you post a prompt list. Number 48 if it strikes inspiration, please? “I called you at 2am because I need you.” 💕

Hey darling Kelsey, thanks for the prompt, and 'eh sorry? <3

“I called you at 2am because I need you.”

Muggle AU, 460 words

Lily opens her eyes with a start, her heart racing in her chest.

With only a slither of moonlight cutting through the open curtains, she scans the room for any sign of what pulled her from sleep.

It wasn’t raining before, when she left the window ajar to welcome a coolness that only comes at night, now joined by a steady pitter patter.

The draught perhaps, or the rain itself woke her from slumber.

Turning her pillow over, she relishes the fresh cotton scent, breathing deeply in the hopes that sleep will return.

A rattling buzz echoes from somewhere outside her room, brief and then gone.

And then, again.

Fully alert, Lily slides from bed, silently making her way from the room.

In the dark hall, the sound is more insistent, more jarring.

She follows the disturbance to the kitchen, finding the culprit sitting precariously on the kitchen counter.

James Potter now

Missed call

James Potter 2m ago

Missed call

James Potter 5m ago

Missed call

James Potter 7m ago

Missed call

“Shit.”

Her fingers tremble as she swipes the notifications away, she shakes her head from side to side, willing away intrusive thoughts as panic spreads through her.

James Potter

Calling

“James?”

“Hey Lil—”

The grip around her throat —around her heart— releases at the sound of his voice bearing the familiar ability to set her at ease.

“What’s going on? Are you ok?”

He sighs down the phone, makes a humming sound.

“Are you at home?”

“Of course, I’m at home James it’s two in the morning, has something happened?”

“Can I come up?”

“What?”

“I’m outside.”

Impossible to fight the draw of those words, she makes her way to the window, looking down to the street.

Sure, enough a tall figure stands against the lamppost directly outside her flat, no mind to the time, no mind to the weather, no mind to impropriety.

“James…”

“Please Lily, I need you, I need—”

“I’m sorry— you should go.”

It isn’t an easy thing to do, to hang up on their call. To watch from her position behind the glass as he slumps against the post, she doesn’t need to see it to know his expression would break her heart.

James Potter wears his heart on his sleeve, in his eyes, in the crease of his brow and the pull of his lips.

Defeated, he crumples and Lily chokes back a sob, forcing herself away from the window.

Moving on autopilot, she washes the phone call from her face, rinses his name from her mouth and climbs back into bed.

A warm arm pulls her closer, nuzzling her neck “You ok darling?”

“Go back to sleep, I’m fine.”

She’s fine.

Everything’s fine.

#jily #asked and answered #tumblr prompt #2am call #sorry #I dont know guys #it's not that its tit for tat #but pain is pain and its shared today #for the lovely kelsey #kay elle cee

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musical-shit-show · 1 year

Note

hi, I love the way you write dewey finn so much!! may I request #18 from prompt list 2 and/or “you are terrible at this.” from prompt list 3 for him please?

close enough to touch

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: #18 (“it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyways.”) from Prompt List 2 and #36 (“you are terrible at this.”) from Prompt List 3, requested by anon

Warnings: Awkward flirting, fluff

Word Count: 2,370

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long, anon! I was really struggling with this one but I hope you like it! I’ve been meaning to write some post-School of Rock Dewey, and if people like this I wouldn’t mind doing another teacher!Reader one shot. So please let me know if this is something y’all like in the comments and reblogs! Also, check out my Masterlist, Prompt Lists, and About Me page, and submit an ask! It might take me a little bit longer with some requests but I promise to always make those my priority. I’m also working on my Beetlejuice series (to fill the void of course) so hopefully there will be more chapters of that coming soon. Thanks to everyone who’s supported my writing so far and enjoy!

“Don’t look now, but he’s staring at you again.”

“Who?”

“The music tutor.”

You decided to not look up from your coffee mug, the creamer you had just poured swirling slowly. It was the end of your second week at Horace Green, and Mrs. White had quickly taken you under her wing.

The teacher’s lounge was buzzing with activity, since the second Friday of every month meant free pastries from the local artisanal bakery. Apparently incentivizing the molders of young minds with sugar and fat never failed.

You placed an almond croissant on your plate, trying your best to stay discreet, “What’s his name again? Danny?”

Mrs. White laughed lightly, “Dewey,” she said with the smallest hint of disdain, “He’s the one I was telling you about last week. The one who impersonated a substitute last semester.”

Your jaw fell open slightly, and you decided to get another look of this guy. Turning from the spread of baked goods, your eyes wandered over to the other side of the room, where you saw the culprit averting his gaze from your direction.

He was, in a word, unkempt. His clothes were mismatched and ill-fitting; the button-down shirt hiding under his loud sweater vest was about half a size too large, and his dark jeans looked half a size too small. Most of the male teachers at Horace Green typically wore sport jackets and khakis, or at least a tie. Clearly Dewey didn’t get the memo.

His hair was also rumpled, dark brown and wavy and spurting in all different directions. You guessed he had rolled out of bed without running a brush through that mess, let alone even looked in the mirror.

You also noticed a significant amount of stubble growing on his round face, finishing off the whole scruffy vibe he had clearly committed to. He was almost…cute. His eyes were the same color as your coffee, deep brown with a touch of lightness.

“Not to state the obvious, but isn’t that a crime?” you murmured, trying to be discreet as you gossiped with your co-worker.

She answered with an eyeroll. “Of course it is,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She took it black, two sugars. “But Rosalie—Ms. Mullins—decided to not press charges and hired him instead. Caused quite an uproar, but the students love him, so…”

You peered at him again curiously. Dewey was had just finished scribbling something in his notebook, breathing a heavy sigh as he slouched back into the plastic chair.

“I wouldn’t get involved if I were you,” Mrs. White warned, clearly noticing your interest in him, “From what I’ve heard, he’s nothing but trouble.”

You nodded. “Believe me,” you lied, “I know when to stay away.”

~oOo~

A sigh of relief left your chest the second the final bell rang at 3:15 that day. Teaching 10 and 11-year-olds how to structure essays all day really drained you, no matter how polite and well-behaved they were.

You gathered your belongings quickly and were walking briskly to your car when you heard your name being called behind you. You turned to see Dewey, and you couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows. He was carrying what looked like stacks of sheet music.

One misstep and he’d be picking up papers until sundown.

“Uh, hi,” he said as he caught up to you, the cold January air making his breath visible. He attempted to extend his arm for a handshake, but retracted when the heaps of music in his one arm began to falter. “I’m uh, I’m Dewey. Or ‘Mr. Finn’ as the kids say, but you can call me Dewey.”

Looking at him more closely, you decided he was even cuter than you first thought. With Mrs. White’s warning ringing in your ear, a part of you wanted to turn the other way, tell him you were in a hurry to get home, make up some excuse to not get involved.

But it was clear he was interested in you, and you’d be lying if you weren’t at least a little intrigued. And besides, it’d be rude to not at least introduce yourself, right?

“Hi, Dewey,” you parroted, giving him another once over. “I see you already know my name.” He was already flushed from the cold, but his cheeks turned a darker shade of pink.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Right, well, I got it from the staff directory. Just…wanted to introduce myself. I teach the kids music after school most days.”

“I know who you are,” the statement came out colder than you intended, “I did see you this morning, do you make a habit of hanging out in the teacher’s lounge?”

He gulped. “No,” he answered, “No, I just…I had a meeting with Rosalie this morning about the spring concert.”

Pure enough excuse. However, Mrs. White had also let it slip that he and Ms. Mullins apparently had a fling a few months prior, which only intrigued you more. What was so special about this guy that he could avoid a criminal trial for identity theft and date his boss in one fell swoop?

“I see,” you said coyly, trying to scrutinize him without being too obvious, “And are you and Rosalie…close?” If Dewey’s face was pink before, it had now turned to an embarrassing shade of scarlet.

“Oh, um, no,” he said, clearly flustered. “Nope. She’s a great…lady. And really cares about the kids. But…no. Not very close.” You nodded, completely unconvinced. You didn’t want to believe the gossip, but with a response like that, how could you not at least consider that it could be true?

Dewey shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his grip tightening on the sheet music. “We kissed,” he blurted, exhaling heavily, “Like, twice. She’s great but…I’m single. Very single.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his honesty. It was oddly refreshing. “Should I be taking that as some kind of hint?” you flirted, smiling softly. You couldn’t care less that your nose and fingertips were growing red from the cold.

“Only if you want,” he said, a shy smile dancing on his lips. Panic overtook his features only seconds later. “I mean, shit, not to be too forward or anything—”

“You know, you are terrible at this,” you said, cutting him off. Dewey flashed an embarrassed grin, letting out another breathy laugh, “How about I just give you my number and we just go from there?”

The two of you quickly exchanged digits and walked to your respective cars separately, unknowingly sharing excited smiles that lasted all the way home.

~oOo~

A few weeks later, you found yourself sticking up flyers for the School of Rock’s annual midwinter concert after the final bell had rung. Dewey had somehow roped you into posting the brightly colored papers on every corkboard, chalkboard, and section of blank wall space in the school.

“I thought you’d be headed home by now,” you heard Mrs. White call from down the hall. You jumped slightly, the haughty timbre in her voice surprising you.

Plastering on your most innocent smile, you turned to face your colleague. “I will be soon,” your voice was dripping with saccharine sweetness, “Just hanging these flyers and then I’m home free.”

She quirked an eyebrow, “Any big weekend plans?” You shook your head, turning back to the wall where you stuck up another flyer. You hoped she would just walk past and be none the wiser.

Mrs. White approached you, skeptical. You were friends, sure, but she was old enough and smart enough to know when someone was hiding something.

And unfortunately for you, as soon as she caught a glimpse of exactly which flyers you were hanging up, it all clicked.

“I thought I made it very clear that Mr. Finn was nothing but trouble,” she said, sounding eerily like a disapproving mother. Despite your heartrate increasing rapidly, you remained calm.

An incredulous scoff left your lips as you placed your free hand on your chest, “Mrs. White,” she rolled her eyes at you using her surname, “I was simply assisting another educator in promoting a fundraiser for this school that seeks to promote the arts and enrich our students’ lives.”

“Did you rehearse that?”

“A little. But I mean it, Mr. Finn has been nothing but professional. We’ve barely even spoken outside of planning the concert.”

That was a lie, of course. The truth was, ever since you and Dewey had exchanged information, you had texted and called and even met up a few times outside of school. Of course, they couldn’t exactly be called dates—at least that’s what you told yourself.

He seemed nervous around you at first, sure, but as soon as you got to know him, that faded away and you were left with a carefree, albeit scatterbrained work buddy. And despite the occasional flirt, it was clear that he wasn’t as interested in you as you first thought.

Which only crushed you the tiniest bit.

Mrs. White glanced at the colorful flyer again, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, “Well, of course I’ll be there to support our students’ artistic endeavors,” she said, a small smirk on her lips, “But don’t think I still don’t have my eye on you.”

You could tell she wasn’t being completely serious, but a small shiver of fear still wracked your spine as she walked towards the exit, the click clack of her pumps echoing on the linoleum tile.

You called goodbye sweetly, playing your role as nothing more than a helpful new teacher who was just excited about music education. Stapling up the last piece of paper onto a mostly bare bulletin board, you couldn’t help but overhear the noise of excited chatter coming from the music room down the hall.

The door was closed, but you managed to sneak a peek through the tiny window to see Dewey chatting with the bassist, who was about the same size as her as instrument. You felt a grin creeping onto your face.

Dewey’s passion for music came out the most when teaching the kids; even after watching him play a gig at the Roadhouse, you never saw his eyes light up more than when he was in that practice room.

You turned away and took a few steps toward the exit when you heard the door creak open, the chatter growing louder before muffling again. “Are you spying on me or something? You’re already getting into the concert for free, ya know.”

Dewey’s voice was more hoarse than usual, the gruffness making your stomach flip. “Not spying,” you teased, glancing over at the bulletin board, “Just doing your job for you.”

He clutched his heart dramatically, “You wound me,” he smirked, “But seriously, thanks for doing this. Hopefully we can drum up some more buzz.” You waved off his praise.

“No trouble. Consider us even since you had to suffer through listening to me babble on for way too long last night.” You two had made a habit of call each other late at night, which only confused your feelings even further. Your brain couldn’t decide if you were just co-workers, friends, or something more.

Apparently, Dewey couldn’t decide either.

“It’s okay,” he replied, running a hand through his messy waves, “I couldn’t sleep anyways.” He bared a toothy smile, wiping his palms on his dark jeans. His casual remark was innocent enough but still found a way to make your heart ache.

You decided the best course of action was to turn the attention away from yourself. “Well, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble with attendance,” you said, referencing the brightly colored flyer again, “From what I hear your kids are incredible.”

He beamed like a proud parent. “Yeah, yeah they are,” he said, “And thank you for spreading the word. Some teachers around here still aren’t too keen on me, after, well…everything.”

You felt yourself frown, your mind flashing to Mrs. White’s warnings. From what you could see, everyone had misjudged Dewey. He was kind, passionate, albeit far less put together than the other Horace Green staff, but he loved teaching and he loved those kids.

Wasn’t that enough to take a chance on?

“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence, “What are you doing tonight?”

“Well, I did have big plans with my couch and a shitty movie, but—”

“You and me. Tonight. Roadhouse.”

“Okay?” he laughed, taken aback by your abruptness.

“And this is a real date, Finn,” you added. “No take backs.” A look of panic flashed across his face, and for a split second you wondered if you had made a terrible miscalculation. But how could you not take matters into your own hands after his weeks of mixed signals?

Before you could open your mouth to apologize profusely for stepping way over that friendship line, Dewey grabbed your arm lightly, pulling the two of you around the corner and away from the only occupied classroom on a Friday afternoon.

And he kissed you.

Softly at first, so gently that you felt yourself melting into the cold painted cinderblock wall as he grabbed your waist. Prep schools weren’t designed to be the most romantic of places, but perhaps that was for the best.

Nevertheless, you let your eyes flutter shut as your lips molded to Dewey’s, your breath hitching in your throat. After a few seconds he pulled away, a shocked look on his face that surely mirrored yours.

“Sorry,” he muttered, a smirk creeping its way onto his mouth, “Surprised myself with that little stunt, huh?” You nodded as he peeled himself away from you. You instinctively checked your surroundings, but you were alone.

“Dewey, are you insane—”

You wanted to be angry with him for risking both of your jobs, but the fluttering in your heart was overwhelming. One thing was for certain, there was no mistaking that signal.

“I just, I couldn’t wait until tonight,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “But yes. I’ll see you tonight. No take backs.”

You smiled as he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, and watched as he happily sprinted back to his students.

*****

thanks for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed!

read part 2 here!

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jvngkook97 · 2 years

Text

The Red Peony

pairing; idol!jungkook, dad!jungkook x non-idol!reader, mom!reader

genre; angst, fluff, slice of life au, established relationship, jungkook and reader are still married, Hiro is 16 and Aera is 11

warnings; this deals with the menstrual cycle, mentions of blood, overprotective daddy koo, this is a time skip from the ‘chubby bunny’ family au

rating; 18+

w/c; 2,542

a/n; they’re baaack! inspired by the movie turning red, watching the father’s reactions immediately made me think that jungkook would be that kind of dad, and reader would be that kind of mom, lol. so here it is, enjoy!

Jungkook wasn’t home when the event occurred. Probably for the best.

But you were.

Thankfully, you were prepared for this moment, for years.

The moment when the red peony bloomed.

You wished you could say the same for your husband.

Jungkook was currently backstage at the American Music Awards just messing around with the other members to pass the time. He was showing Hoseok and Jimin a home video he recorded on his phone of his now sixteen year old son, Hiro. Said son, became a global sensation of his own at the age of five years old, during one of their concerts in Las Vegas for knowing the chorus choreography for Permission to Dance and running on stage to join his father and uncles in it.

Ever since then, he continued to hone his dancing skills with the dancers of the group, Hoseok and Jimin fighting over whose the best uncle on a daily basis. But Jungkook knows that he’s his son’s favorite dancer, his son saying so whenever they leave the room. Otherwise they would just call him biased. But Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to let them know the ugly truth.

He’s even showing up during group rehearsals, or when he knows his father is going to leave for practice by himself. Only if he’s not working on his homework, has good grades, has free time, and gets his mother’s permission can he attend.

You always did let him go, knowing no matter what you said he would find a way to charm you into letting him, cause he was just like his father in that aspect. It didn’t help that he had the same bunny toothed smile that he knew was your weakness. The Jeon’s always got what they wanted, of course. Including your now 11 year old daughter, Aera.

In fact, you would be so bold as to say, she had her father wrapped around her finger. All she had to do was bat her eyelashes at him, give him those same big doe eyes that he shares with her, and jut her bottom lip out cutely. Then she would use her princess voice, as you like to call it, and say ‘please, daddy?’

Hook, line, and sinker.

He could never say no to his little girl.

Though I guess in most cultures she would be considered a woman now.

But, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Let’s backtrack to this morning, when the event occurred.

Jungkook had left with his fellow members the day prior in order to start the dress rehearsal at the venue the awards were being held at, so he wasn’t laying in bed next to you when you first woke up. You think you would remember that he wouldn’t be there, him having woken you up with a kiss goodbye before he left for the airport, yet you still reached for the empty space in hopes of snuggling into a warm body to keep sleeping. The cold and merciless sheets are what woke you up. But what got you out of bed?

A shrill scream that would rival those from a horror movie, coming from the mouth of your daughter.

When you say that you’ve never moved so damn fast in your life, you’re not lying. Your children were just lucky that you decided not to sleep nude for once. Otherwise you would’ve had no qualms with traumatizing them with your naked body just so you could see what has your daughter screaming bloody murder so early in the morning.

Barging into her room, door slamming against the wall in the process, did you quickly survey her room looking for the culprit. She was nowhere in sight, so she had to be in the bathroom. Just as you were about to walk past her bed to knock on her bathroom door that connected to her room, did you notice something odd. Her bedding was completely stripped from her bed, leaving the once white mattress, bare. You say once white, due to the blazing red spot that now adorned the mattress directly where her body would lay. Or, more specifically, where her bottom half would lay.

Your eyes widened, as a low gasp escaped your mouth, hands immediately covering your mouth to silence it. Eyes darting over to the still closed bathroom door, you inched your way over to it, and gently leaned your head sideways against the door, ear pressed closely, trying to hear any sign of your daughter’s current state of mind from the new milestone her body hit.

All you could hear was low sniffles that broke your mama bear heart, and just as you were about to knock on the door to have a mother daughter heart to heart, your head whipped towards your daughter’s door hearing the loud stomping coming towards the threshold.

“What’s going on in here?!” Your oldest son, Hiro, exclaimed with wide eyes. He was holding a baseball bat tightly with two hands, ready to swing it at anything that moved that wasn’t you or Aera. Cause he knew with his father gone, he was the appointed protector of the family. Your heart swelled equally with warmth, and slight terror at seeing your son wield the baseball bat so menacingly.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding upon the sudden intrusion. Placing your hand over your heart, trying to settle down your adrenaline rush, you waved your other hand at your son dismissively.

“Everything’s okay, honey. There’s nothing to worry about. Your sister just isn’t feeling well at the moment.” You reassured calmly in your motherly voice.

Hiro’s shoulders immediately sagged in relief, bat now loosely hanging by his side. Though he still carried a look of worry on his face as he took a few steps into the room, ready to help you with whatever you or his little sister needed.

“Sick? What’s wrong with her?” He asked his mother, voice laced with worry. His eyes darted to the closed bathroom door in wonder. “Is there anything I can do to help?” He first directed the question towards you specifically, before leaning his head towards the bathroom door and directly asking his sister instead.

“Hey, sis. You good in there? Do you need anything?” He knocked on the door lightly for good measure to make sure she knew he was there for her. He was ever the empath within your family, that’s for sure, you thought staring at him lovingly. How did you get so lucky?

The only response he received was a loud, watery whimper. Which broke both of your hearts and made Hiro’s emotions skyrocket.

“Should I call dad?” He asked you, feeling helpless.

You gave your son a small smile and shook your head, your hand coming to lay on his upper arm, rubbing it in soothing circles.

“No, baby. There’s no need to call your father just yet. He’s probably in rehearsals right now anyways and can’t even get to his phone. Can you do me a favor though?” You know he needed something to occupy himself, so you thought you would give him a task to do.

“Can you walk to that corner store down the block and get your sister’s favorite chocolate candy? Get yourself something as well. You can get some money out of my purse on the kitchen counter.”

He nodded and gave you a hug before turning to leave the room.

“Oh, and be careful please! I love you!” You threw at his back as he crossed the threshold into the hallway. He pivoted on his feet and gave you a thumbs up, walking backwards down the hallway and out of sight from the door. A few seconds later you could hear a faint, ‘I love you too!’ be yelled from the direction of the front door, then hearing said door open and close, signaling that you were now alone with your daughter.

Now it was time for the talk.

“Sweetie, can I come in, please?” You lightly knocked on the door and asked gently.

“Is brother gone?” She asked quietly in reply.

“Yes, baby. He’s headed to the store to get your favorite chocolate candy. Cause I have a feeling you’re gonna be craving that soon, right?” You asked through the door knowingly.

“You can come in, momma.”

You twisted the doorknob and slowly pushed it open. What you saw made your eyes water. There was your sweet little girl, curled up in the bathtub in the fetal position. Her bloody clothes lay forgotten behind the door, but she stayed in her underwear. You softly shut the door behind you and locked it, not wanting to chance your son randomly poking his head in, even if he means well.

“Oh, honey.” You said softly. She whimpered in response and gave you grabby hands, a gesture you haven’t seen her do since she was a baby. You immediately fit yourself in the space next to her in the tub, and drew her body towards you, enveloping her in a hug only a mother can give in these kinds of situations. Gently, you started to rock you both side to side as you hummed her favorite song of her fathers, Magic Shop. Her body naturally relaxing to your warmth and humming, made your heart swell inside with pure love.

And for the next 15 minutes you stayed in that position as you educated your daughter on what changes her body would be going through and why they were happening right now. Then you explained how she needs to take care of her ‘delicate petals’ and clean them regularly. Even going so far as to list the many different variations of pads and tampons alike that she can choose to fit with her lifestyle as she grows older. Questions were asked by Aera, and answers were given by you.

“Was there anything else you wanted to know, baby? Any other questions you might have?” You asked her, wanting to make sure that she now fully understood what came with having a menstrual cycle.

“I’m good, momma. Thank you, for everything.” She gave you a smile you have yet to see all day, and you knew, she would be fine. You gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Would you like me to leave so you can take a shower? You’ll feel a lot better, honey, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, I will. Can you–“ having already maneuvered your way out of the tub to standing back up, you held a hand up giving a thumbs up, much like what your son gave you not too long ago.

“I got you, baby. I’ll take your dirty clothes and bedding to wash them. And bring you some pads and tampons from my bathroom for you to try. Is that okay?” You wanted to make sure you weren’t forcing her to take any steps she wasn’t ready to take yet.

She gave you her own thumbs up in response.

Smiling, you walked out of the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Then you made true on your word and lugged both her dirty clothes from the bathroom and her bedding to the laundry room to start a cycle. Once done, you grabbed a variety of pads and tampons you personally liked using, and brought them into her room. Seeing that the bathroom door was now locked and hearing the shower on, you placed the stack neatly in front of the bathroom door. Just as you shut her bedroom door behind you, you heard the front door open and close, alerting you to your son coming back from his errand you gave him earlier.

Heading to the kitchen, where your son now was with a bag full of goodies on the table. You thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. One he immediately wiped off with the back of his hand with a playful grimace. You rolled your eyes at his teenage antics. Boys.

“How is she?” He asked right away.

“She’s feeling much better, just taking a shower and then she’ll be right out.” You explained nonchalantly, sifting through the bag of goodies and plucking out your favorite candy to hide from your husband’s sweet tooth and to eat at a later time.

“She started her period, didn’t she?” He stated casually, but yet, you weren’t surprised he knew. He was always intuitive like that.

You nodded your head solemnly in response.

“Oh.” Was all he said as he walked away into the living room with a handful of candy and junk food alike, surely about to start a lengthy gaming session with his online friends.

You sighed in content as you sat in the lazy boy chair in the living room in the company of your son. Aera following the loud gameplay into the living room as well after she was done with her shower, her hands just as full of goodies as her brother’s as she plopped onto the couch next to him, immediately opening her favorite candy and taking a bite.

The day passed by without much else happening, other than your individual daily routines. It wasn’t until the kids left to their respective rooms to go to sleep, did you think of looking at the clock hanging on the wall, noticing how late it was. Though the darkening sky should’ve been a tall tale sign. Jungkook should be done with his performance by now, so you thought that you would try calling him. Dialing his number, you waited by turning the channel on the tv to the live interviews that occurred after the show was over. And would you look at that?

‘Stay tuned for an exclusive interview with Kpop boy band BTS!’ The female announcer exclaimed enthusiastically.

Perfect, you thought mischievously.

The call connected as your husband’s voice both appeared through the phone, and through your television screen. You could tell he was trying to discreetly answer your call by placing himself towards the back of the group. Jimin was blocking him along with Hoseok while Namjoon took control of the interview questions for the group, with side comments from Taehyung and Jin. Yoongi opting to stay quiet, as per usual.

“Hey Baby Girl, we’re in the middle of an interview right now–“

“The red peony bloomed.” Was all you said, very effectively cutting the unprepared father off from what he was about to say.

“….What?” He couldn’t have heard you correctly, he thought in denial.

“I said, the red peony bloomed, Jungkook.”

And this time he did hear you, picking up on the code name you both came up with for that time of the month, giving out a loud response that would be caught on television and within your memories for years to come. One that would have ARMY doing their gifs and memes for months about it, and have the members howling with laughter, never letting the golden maknae forget about it, always finding someway to bring it up in conversation. Never in front of your daughter, of course. That was the only rule.

And to your daughter’s embarrassment for the rest of her life. Jungkook forever having to make up for it. A fact she fully took advantage of.

“SHE STARTED HER PERIOD?!”

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