#Can someone PLEASE tell me the name of this Great Dane????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harrygoeswest · 1 year

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Trigger warnings: None

Word Count: 8,651

Chapters one & two

three

Since Federico, I hadn’t really been an affectionate person. At least, not when it came to my one night stands. I gave Ruby all the affection she wanted, from falling asleep with her to helping her bathe to accepting any kind of hug she threw my way. I would give that girl any attention she wanted as long as she wanted it, because I loved her.

Romantically, on the other hand, I was a dry well. I guess I didn’t really see the point in letting someone swaddle me with cuddles and kisses outside the parameters of sex because I didn’t want it to disturb the rest of my life. Especially not Ruby’s life. We were settled - we had a good routine and she’d never even mentioned the absence of a father figure in her life. I hoped that was because she considered her grandad that figure. Why would I want someone else coming into our little world and potentially ruining it?

It was why I found myself surprised when I rather enjoyed the feeling of a man’s arms around my middle some weeks later. He was warm, and I felt utterly at peace with it. I didn’t care for the time of day, nor my responsibilities that awaited later on after he’d been jettisoned from my house. All I was focussed on was how comfortable this stranger made me feel.

I had my back pressed against his chest, somewhat deluded by the patterns his lips made against my bare shoulder. I was in a complete trance. I couldn’t remember this man’s name, but I could tell you every inch of my body that he’d visited the night before, and where I had his in return. He made me feel like a priceless artefact; a Saint; a goddess. I’d lay like this until I starved. It wouldn’t matter, because at least I was wanted. Maybe even needed.

His hands travelled to sacred places and I shamelessly relished in it, writhing in his hold on me like an otter bathing in water. I felt him everywhere on me, in places less frequently visited as the days rolled on. I was going to rinse this moment for all it was worth, and so I turned to face him between his grip, my mouth searching for his-

“-Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!”

I squealed at the intrusion from my daughter; heart thudding in my ears mangled with white noise and accompanied by a sweaty forehead (amongst other places). I jolted upright in bed, heaving like a pig in heat.

I was remiss to find I had clothes on compared to the nakedness I had in my deep fantasy.

Ruby clambered onto the bed - ignorant to my horror - and crawled straight into my lap, “Mummy!”

“What?” I demanded, a more forceful tone on me than I would normally use, to the point I surprised myself.

“I had the best dream!”

I sighed, more in self-pity at my own forever lost dream. “Oh, really?” I prompted, wrapping my arms around her small body. I rested my nose onto her head, sniffing her hair. “What was it about?”

“We got a dog!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I choked. “Did we now?” I asked in a quizzical voice.

“Yep. He was a blue Great Dane, and his name was Bongo.”

“I’ve never heard of a blue dog before.”

“Mummy, please can we get one? Please? I’d look after it so well, I promise.”

“Baby, I’ve seen Great Danes and I can promise you you’d be flying through the air the moment it started running.”

“Not if we got him as a puppy! He’d be little - just like me!”

I could see her logic, but even though I was no Einstein I still knew that dogs grew much faster than us mere humans. “He will still outgrow you very quickly, Ruby.”

She sighed, a pout on her lips and a mature crease in her brow. I stroked my thumb over both in succession while she whined at me. “Mummy, I really want a puppy. I don’t want anything else in the entire world except a puppy. It would be the best birthday ever.”

Yikes. She was getting really good at being persuasive. Or perhaps I was just weak - I could never figure out which one it was. I hoped it was the first. As stupid as I was, I still had a lot of pride.

My alarm began to ring on my phone. Still clinging to Ruby, I reached over and quickly stopped it. “Right,” I said, looking at her pointedly, “we are going to park this conversation for today so we can get ready for school. Okay?”

“Mummy, please actually think about it this time.”

I held back my childish scoff. “I will, I promise. But you can’t bring it up again for at least a week.”

“But you might forget!” She squeaked, accusation lost on her voice.

“I won’t. I will really, really think about it, and if I can’t find a way to do it I will think of another option.”

My child gawked at me for a moment, her innocent face full of a premature scepticism. “Okay.”

“Good.” I said and patted her back. “Go and start getting ready - I’ll be there in a minute.”

She made an unintelligible grunt and scrambled off me again. I watched her to make sure she definitely went to her bedroom, and then slowly made my way to the bathroom with a screwed up face.

The first thing I did was check my temperature, and then my pulse. I was neither feverish nor dead, so my dream had some sort of truth to it. Apparently I was suddenly the type to crave attention from men I didn’t know.

Wait, that doesn’t sound right.

I’ve always liked what little attention I could get. It was the intimacy I didn’t usually care for. But something had changed, it seemed.

I didn’t know the man in my dream. He was faceless, or rather just out of view; behind me, characterless and somewhat ethereal. If it was Rico I’d never be able to tell - especially not now that I was conscious. I didn’t know what his voice sounded like because I couldn’t remember him talking, only that content heavy breathing with the odd placated sigh that told me he was as relaxed as I had been.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to be asleep again.

I refrained from grunting and slapped myself across the cheek instead.

Get a grip, Floss.

I washed my face and cleaned my teeth, keeping an ear to Ruby’s room. I could hear her talking to herself, or one of her toys. I yanked a brush through my painfully knotted hair and threw it back up into a hapless bun. I scoured my wardrobe for a clean t-shirt - a black one with ‘I’M KIND OF A BIG DEAL’ printed on the front in big yellow letters - and a pair of navy cargo trousers.

I found Ruby and helped her dress while she told me about the drama between Barbie and Winnie the Pooh (two toys I never thought I’d hear of having beef), plaited her hair and put her shoes on for her.

Once I was booted up we loaded into the car and drove to the school for Kids Club. I held my breath as she squealed her way to the cabin door, stayed with her until she finally calmed down (though her complexion was far from calm), and cuddled her for an extra minute longer before I finally let her go.

“I’ll be back for you later, Rubes.” I whispered, inhaling the scent off the top of her head. She always smelled good, like apples and innocence.

“Okay,” She sniffled.

I pecked her nose and watched her wander inside with the assistant, a concerned furrow between my brows. I really struggled to comprehend what it was she hated so much about the place when she loved her actual school time.

As I ambled back to the car I was still deep in thought. What was it that triggered her like that? Why did she constantly work herself into such a state over a mere hour with other kids she knew every single morning?

I sat behind the wheel again and let out a heavy sigh. I needed to make it my mission to work out what was going on in that hut. If any alien probings were being carried out on my baby girl I would tear the place apart.

Someone pulled into the space beside me, and I turned a dopey look that way.

My stomach dropped when I registered the dentist fiddling with something in the centre console, and I quickly looked away again.

This man had an exceptional knack for turning up at the most annoying times.

I turned the engine on and reversed out much faster than I normally would. I dared not look in his direction but I saw his head turn towards my bright orange car and the commotion of my hasty departure. I was desperate not to look him in the eye again. Ever.

I raced out of the gate and to the main road before I even thought about driving in any kind of cautious manner. That sexy dentist was not under any circumstances allowed to register my existence, even though he likely just had. This fucking car.

Even I am willing to admit that nothing about me really adds up. I’m too stupid to have a child and a bright orange Ford Focus doesn’t really fit the ‘serious mechanic’ agenda. Everything does naturally fit that ‘local fruitcake’ brand I’ve somehow awarded myself. Maybe one day I’ll settle down and drive a normal car, like a Citroen Picasso or a Honda CRV.

Zara was already waiting at the garage when I got there. I dumped my bag in the office and checked through the diary, not before plugging my phone into the speakers. Today was a day to be serenaded by a gorgeous voice, and the gorgeous voice of choice was Hannah Reid - aka, London Grammar.

“That is without a doubt my favourite t-shirt of yours.” Zara said with a smirk as she leaned over the bonnet of the car I’d already started working on.

“You say that every day.”

She scoffed, “They’re just all so good, Floss! No one has a better t-shirt collection than you.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” I giggled. “I don’t think it’s the best one.”

“Which one is your favourite?”

I stood straight and pursed my lips. “Probably… er, The Very Hangry Caterpillar one.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a good one.” She nodded. “Do you want a coffee?”

“Oo, yes please.”

Zara nodded like Churchill as she disappeared again, and I carried on with the very broken car in front of me. I quietly sang along to the music drifting through the big garage, tapping my toes against the concrete in time.

At the sound of tyres pulling onto the forecourt outside, I stood straight again and wiped my hands on the cloth I kept nearby. My glance around the raised bonnet was lazy but curious, and I had to wait for my eyes to adjust before I could really see who it was.

“Oh shit.” I hissed, and dropped to the floor in front of the big SUV.

My heart was thudding against my chest, my body awash with heat. I peered around the side of the car again, trying to make sure he couldn’t see me.

Dr Styles was standing just outside and looking up at my admittedly intimidating barn-like garage, while blindly trying to shove his sunglasses back into their case. He was wearing ripped jeans and a bright pink crew neck with a print on the front I couldn’t decipher.

“No, no, no, no,” I ranted as I scurried towards the office on all fours, hoping I’d be able to make it there without being seen.

“Hello?” His voice echoed off the walls.

I slipped into the boxy office room, hiding just underneath the window on my knees. “Fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck fuck.”

“Hello?” He called again.

I looked towards the small kitchenette where Zara was still making tea. I heard her scamper out from her own hiding place and into the main garage, thankfully not spotting me on her way.

“Hi,” she greeted the dentist, always cheery. “Can I help?”

“Yeah, sorry… er, my car - it’s playing up.”

I couldn’t see, but I could just imagine the look on Zara’s face.

“Playing up… how?”

“There’s a kind of knocking sound? Like, only at slow speeds, but it sounds dodgy as fuck and I wondered if you could have a look at it for me?”

“Oh, sure. It won’t be me, but we’ll fix it.”

“Do you need to take any details?”

“Er, yeah,” Zara cleared her throat, “wait just one second.”

Another shuffle later, and Zara appeared in the office doorway. She looked at me like I’d finally hit rock bottom.

“Don’t look at me.” I hissed, pressing my finger to my lips. I was now sitting on my backside shrinking against the wall, my arms wrapped around my knees.

She querked her brow and moved towards the desk. “You are one crazy bitch, Floss.” She mumbled, only for me to hear.

Seconds later she was back outside and handing Dr Styles a form to fill out.

“You’re the new dentist, right?” She asked, forcing a conversation.

He seemed to give an awkward laugh. “That’d be me, yeah.”

“How’d you like it here so far?”

He made a weird and contemplative sound. “It’s nice, in a typical kind of way. Like, it’s pretty to look at.”

“But…?” Zara pushed him.

“I don’t know, I feel like I’m missing something here. Maybe I just need to get used to it a bit more.”

“All the locals are fucking nutters if that makes you feel any better.”

I knew that comment was a dig at me rather than the other villagers, but she wasn’t wrong.

A strangled pause followed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s okay - they all know it.”

He laughed again, and my stomach churned. “Er… I think that’s done.”

“Great!”

“Will the guy that does it call me to let me know when it’s done?”

“She will call you once she’s figured out what the problem is.” Zara loved doing that.

I squeaked at the thought of having to later ring him.

“Oh, rad.” His voice had a strange lilt to it all of a sudden. “Look forward to it.”

“Do you have a way to get back to the village?”

“Oh, I’m good - I’ll walk. It’s a nice day and the practice is closed.”

“Alright, we’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you.”

One pair of footsteps shuffled out of the garage, and another pair made their way towards me. I still wasn’t going to stand up yet. I was pleased with myself for narrowly avoiding having to speak to the man, and I was confident I’d be able to keep it up with any future close encounters.

Zara returned, form in hand and arms folded across her chest. “Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I don’t want to see the dentist.”

“Well, I gathered that. Why?”

“Because I just don’t want to.” I huffed. “Is he gone?”

“Yes.”

I stood up, using the window frame for support.

“What did you do?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I deferred, brushing myself down.

“Yes you fuckin’ do - why are you hiding from that oblivious man?”

“I’m not!”

She glared at me, unmoving from the doorway so I couldn’t get out.

I made a noise that was something between a scoff and a sigh. “I made a fool of myself in front of him when I went to the dentist, didn’t I?”

Zara rolled her eyes and dropped her aggressive stature. “You nit. When did you even go to the dentist? You’re terrified of it.”

“My mother bullied me into it, obviously.” I said as I passed her, snatching the form out of her hand.

I looked at the paper and I stood in front of his car, pulling at my lower lip. Harry Styles. Sounded like a rubbish English fashion designer from somewhere really dull like Nantwich or Wigan.

I didn’t really want to spend any time on this man’s car, so I did what I did best and ignored the problem until I absolutely had to. “Move it off the forecourt for me?”

Zara frowned. “Aren’t you going to look at what the problem is first?”

“Nope - already know what it is.”

“What?”

“Same problem all the fucking Range Rovers that come in here have. The front arm suspension is damaged.”

“Is it safe to drive?”

I gave her a flat look.

“Right. On it.”

I caught myself daydreaming a lot for the rest of the day. I didn’t like being in that kind of mood, because it was distracting and I tended to become a bit useless. I was sitting in the office just before closing time, and I was meant to be calling the dentist to confirm the problem with his flashy car, but what I was actually doing was quite different.

I still had a photo of Rico in my camera roll, and I’d gone searching for it while my brain seemed to be in airplane mode. I didn’t consciously make the decision to go and find it, but apparently I did it anyway.

It was from one of our annoyingly cute little outings; we’d driven out to Bourton-on-the-Water and had a long wander around before having an early dinner at The Mousetrap Inn. The photo in question was of Federico sitting on the narrow stone footbridge with his feet dangling in the Windrush. Just the image alone reminded me of his smell - that delicious tobacco and amber scent he used to wear, mixed with his own raw Italian musk. He looked happy in it, and I remember being happy. Now on reflection, all I felt was lonely.

So many days we’d spent like that, and I hadn’t had any kind of desire to feel that content again until this morning. I knew I was never going to replicate the feeling specifically with Federico, but something similar would definitely be nice.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Zara materialised.

I looked up at her blankly, and I realised I must’ve been pouting. “I don’t know… I feel weird today.”

“Weird how?”

“Like… alone. I feel like I’m on my own.”

My friend looked startled. “Oh, mate,” she patted my shoulder, though it seemed somewhat patronising, “it’s not like I haven’t tried to set you up with people before.”

“Yeah, I know.” I muttered.

“I’m sure it’ll go away. But the easiest solution is to just go out with someone.”

“Yeah, I’m still not really sure I want to do that.”

“How do you know if you don’t try?”

“Because I don’t like the idea of meeting someone that way. Call me old fashioned, but I want it to be romantic and natural. Not… I don’t know, the opposite of whatever that is.”

“Just let me set you up on one date?”

“No.”

“You’ve just moaned that you’re lonely, but you’re not even willing to try, Floss.”

“Fine, in all honesty I don’t trust your choices.”

“I am offended.”

“Oh, come on, Zara. I like Mickey, but his friends are knobheads.”

She looked at me for a moment, expression thoughtful. “Okay, I guess that’s fair. What if I found you someone Mickey has no association with whatsoever?”

“That would be better, but I’m still not entirely sold on the idea.”

“You at least need to try. I will arrange everything, and all you’ll need to do when I’m satisfied is turn up. I really reckon I could pull this off, mate. I’ll have you courting before you know it.”

I screwed my face up at her. “Did you really just say ‘courting’?”

“That is literally what you described to me not two minutes ago.”

“Bullshit - I said romantic and natural. Not… Austentatious.”

Zara’s eyes widened, and she blinked once. “I beg your pardon?”

“You know, like Jane Austen?”

“That is not… never mind. Just please let me set you up?”

I pressed my lips tightly together. “Fine, but if it’s a disaster I will literally hunt you down and murder you.”

“Okay, well there’s no need to go all Rose West on me.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Call the dentist.” Zara pointed at the phone on my desk. “You need to leave in a minute.”

Bollocks.

I waited until Zara had left the room before I searched for the form with Dr Styles’s phone number and punched the digits in. My heel was tapping rapidly against the floor and my nails were being chewed to pieces. They tasted metallic.

It only dialled twice before he answered. “Hello?”

I cleared my throat. “Hi, is this Dr Styles?”

“Yeah, speaking.”

“Hi, sorry - I’m calling from the garage about the Range Rover you dropped off this morning?” I was very careful not to mention my name.

“Oh, yes, hi.”

“Hello. Yeah, um - the problem is a damaged front arm suspension. It’s easily fixable if I have the part, but sadly I don’t. And it can be done in two ways, but I’d rather you decide.”

“Okay… What are the options?”

“So,” I swallowed thickly, trying to stop my hands from shaking, “you can either replace the bushes, which is the part that is really damaged and the cheapest to fix, but doesn’t mean the problem won’t return in due time. Or you can replace the entire front arm, which gives the car a longer life but it’s more expensive. You’re also more likely to pass your MOT when it comes to it if you replace the whole thing.”

“I see. How much is either option?”

I pulled my thumb until it clicked. “It’s about £350 for the bushes, or £500 to do the whole front arm. And that’s including labour fees.”

“Alright, er…” a vacant pause followed, “I might sound cheap, but I can’t really justify £500 on the car at the minute. So, order the hedges-,”

“Bushes.” I corrected, an automatic reaction.

“Yeah, sorry. Just do those and I’ll look at finding a way to… prolong it. Got any tips?” He laughed.

I clutched the phone tighter to my ear, suddenly endeared by him. “Um… It’s a bit fussy to explain.”

“That’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Okay, well… I’ll be in touch when it’s done.”

“Do you have an idea how long it might be?”

“If I order the part now it should be here by the end of the day tomorrow, so we’re probably looking at Wednesday?”

“That’s fine. I can manage a couple of days without it.”

“Okay. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you.”

I quickly put the phone down before it could get any weirder, and then took two deep breaths. I didn’t know why this man made me so antsy, but it was starting to irritate me. No man had ever made me feel nervous like that. Not even Federico. I could only put it down to him being a dentist - it was the only reason that made any sense.

Because I spent so long faffing about calling the dentist and ordering the parts for his car, I was late to pick up Ruby. She was waiting by the school gate when I arrived with a teacher standing beside her. I immediately felt guilty.

She was running towards the car before I’d even stopped driving. I hopped out as soon as the engine was cut off, and she immediately launched herself into my arms.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Rubes!” I whimpered and kissed the top of her head repeatedly.

“It’s okay! I know it’s because you were thinking really hard about the puppy!”

The dog hadn’t crossed my mind once. “Yep, you got me.” I laughed, but it wasn’t humoured at all.

“Thank you!” I shouted over to the teacher with a little wave, and she smiled and nodded once before turning away back towards the school.

“Are we going to see abuela?”

I smiled at her question. “Not today - mañana. Let’s get you buckled up, aye?”

Ruby and I drove straight home and completed our Monday evening routine. Dinner was quick and easy; she told me she wanted hot dogs and chips so we had hot dogs and chips. At bath time she continued her persistence about getting a ‘blue’ Great Dane like the one in her dream. I wasn’t entirely sure how ‘blue’ this dog was supposed to be but I was starting to worry that if I ever did somehow find the funds to adopt one, it wouldn’t be quite as blue as she hoped.

I read to her as she drifted off to sleep, but whatever she’d been doing at school, paired with the excitement of a possible pet had clearly tuckered her out, since I barely managed to read past the first page before she closed her eyes and nodded off. I read on until page 3 anyway, and then snuck out of the room, only leaving the door slightly open.

I prepared for bed, and my phone buzzed midway through my nightly hair taming attempt. I read the notification while I crawled under the covers, finding a text from George - the same one from a couple of weeks ago. I screwed my face up and didn’t bother reading it.

Instead, to absolutely nobody’s surprise (and especially not my own), I found myself down a rabbit hole of images of Federico in all that time we spent together. I always kept them on my phone - I couldn’t put Ruby through the pain of knowing that images of her father were smattered around the house when she’d never even met the man. If she ever did have the opportunity to meet him I didn’t want her to resent me for any of it. Although, I suppose deep down I knew that was always an inevitability should she ever be introduced.

I often found myself wondering what would happen in that instance. Would he recognise that Ruby was his? Would it immediately click or would he be none the wiser? I’d always thought she looked more like me but there was a definite likeness in her nose and her mouth. Would he see that? And would they even get on well? It was nice to imagine the two of them together but I also thought Ruby might hate him for one reason or another. How would that play out?

I groaned inwardly and tossed my phone away to the end of the bed before I could become any more tortured. I was wide awake when I desperately wished I wasn’t.

I rolled out of bed again and collected my laptop from its hiding place in my desk drawer. I decided in that moment that I really did need to do some research on these bloody dogs Ruby kept going on about if I was seriously considering buying one.

According to Google, blue Great Danes were a real thing, and not just something Ruby had made up. Admittedly they were very good looking animals, but the sheer size of them, even as puppies still terrified me. And of course, not cheap either. If I was going to do this I was going to do it properly, and buying from a reputable breeder was important. Part of me (or all of me) would’ve much preferred to adopt some sad looking thing from a shelter, but this was for Ruby - not for me.

I stayed up until a ridiculous hour looking into them, before I eventually fell asleep with my laptop still open. Tonight it was me dreaming about blue Great Danes, and topiary Range Rovers in Bourton-on-the-Water.

four

My mother was ranting at me in Spanish again over the print on my t-shirt. Apparently it wasn’t appropriate to wear in front of a child Ruby’s age, but my argument was that I’d been wearing a jacket any time I was anywhere close to my daughter.

“Cálmate,” I told her to calm down, brushing my hand over the ‘Don’t Be A Prick’ cactus logo on the chest of my top, “she hasn’t noticed.”

She continued to tell me, in Spanish, that just because Ruby hadn’t noticed yet that it didn’t mean she wouldn’t. I ignored her.

Ruby had gone straight to the sofa like she always did, flicking through the TV channels next to Dad to find something more entertaining to watch than Escape to the Country. She was chatting away to her grandad about the puppy again and how excited she was, even though I still hadn’t told her we were getting one. I pretended not to be listening to it and instead went to the bathroom.

On my return Ruby and Dad hadn’t moved an inch, and Mum was hanging laundry up in the garden while it was warm enough.

“Dad, can you come into the garage for half a day tomorrow while I take Ruby to the dentist?”

He turned over his shoulder to look at me as I sat down at the dining table. “Sure. That with the new bloke?”

I shook my head. “No. Fortunately he’ll be collecting his car at the same time. We’re seeing Dr. Wade.”

“Oh right. What was wrong with the car?”

“Faulty front arm.”

“Range Rover?”

I nodded, and shoved a grape into my mouth from the punnet in the centre of the table.

“Abuelo, do you like the name Bongo?” Ruby asked.

“What for, poppet?”

“For my puppy!”

I turned away again, hiding my face. I was never going to hear the end of it. Apparently my mother had noticed the confused look on Dad’s face when she returned inside, because she came straight to me.

“¿De qué está hablando?” She asked what Ruby was talking about.

“Ella quiere un cachorro para su cumpleaños.” I muttered her desire for a puppy.

“¿Que clase?”

I sighed. “A Great Dane.”

My mother laughed hysterically and patted my shoulder. “Is she serious about it?”

“Desgraciadamente.” Unfortunately.

She gave a short giggle. “She doesn’t want a party?”

“I wish she wanted a party. I tried that angle and she still insisted she’d rather me use the money that would go to a party towards a puppy.”

My mother hummed, contemplative, and then summoned my dad. “Dave, ven aquí.”

He finished what he was saying to Ruby before he stood up and joined us. The rest of the conversation was spoken in whispered Spanish.

“Ruby wants a puppy for her birthday.” My mum said.

“Well, I gathered that, Daniela. I just can’t figure out why on Earth she’d want to call it Bongo.”

“She wants a blue Great Dane.” I said.

“Bloody hell! They’re gigantic!”

“I know this, but she won’t shut up about it and if I don’t turn up with one on her birthday it’ll break her heart.”

“I was thinking…” my mother started, a delicate tone about her, “maybe we could contribute.”

“Mamá, no seas ridícula!” I hissed. “They’re nearly £3000, we can’t afford that!”

“Well, we can if she goes without Christmas and birthday presents until she’s 10.” My dad shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not letting you do that - I’ll figure something else out.”

“Can you not adopt any kind of dog from a shelter?” Mum suggested.

“I’d prefer to do that, but it’s not a blue Great Dane, is it?”

“Who’d ever heard of a blue dog before?” My father looked perturbed.

“I thought the same, but they’re real. It’s like a dark grey kind of colour - they’re very pretty.”

My dad sighed and folded his arms over his chest. “Let me think about it. I might be able to figure something out.”

I shook my head. “Even if you can’t, it’s okay. I know she never asks for much but it’s a lot of money and that’s just to buy the damn thing, let alone feeding it and whatever.”

“We’ll work it out, Floss.” My mother rubbed my shoulder again.

I lifted my head, but admittedly I struggled to believe it. I was having a moral crisis, which was unusual for me. Well, it was unusual for me to be aware I was having one; I realised later on down the line that I had many, many moral crises.

I had a daughter who I wanted to give the world to. I wanted to make her happy always, and give her everything she ever wanted because it was the least she deserved. I wanted to support her in any way I could and shower her with endless love and affection, even if it came in a more materialistic manner.

On the other hand, I didn’t want her to become one of those children who failed to learn the value of money because her mummy always gave her whatever she wanted. My parents had always, or so I thought, been very good at showing me that. Perhaps it was because they lived comfortably for as long as I could remember - they could afford to live and have the odd treat every now and then, but they were never extravagant and they’d never used it as a weapon. I wanted to deliver that same wisdom to Ruby for when she had to start making financial decisions for herself. I wanted to make sure she understood the value of money.

Somehow, as much as it pained me, buying and adopting a pet worth £2500 didn’t seem like that would be teaching her anything at all, apart from that if she talked about it enough she’d probably get whatever she wanted. I realised that this was probably about to become the first real test I’d had as a parent; how well did I know my daughter?

I left my dad in charge of the garage for the afternoon while I sorted Ruby out with her dentist appointment. There were a lot of cars in today; apparently the heat was affecting everyone’s vehicles to the point they were breaking. I just couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t actually that hot and the locals were being dramatic. Like that had never happened before.

Because he’d asked so nicely on Monday, I’d made the dentist a document on how to better take care of his expensive car. It definitely didn’t mean that the problem was resolved now that it was fixed. Like I’d told him before - it was a temporary solution to a wider problem. No doubt he’d be back with it in a few months, or worse, Dad or I would have to rescue him after breaking down. I’d cross that bridge if and when it came to it.

At the school I had to wait in the reception area for Ruby because I was collecting her early. I had left a note with her teacher yesterday and a reminder this morning just in case. I could tell they weren’t happy that I was taking her out before the school day was officially finished, but for the sake of half an hour on one day, I thought they could just shove their sour faces back up their own arses.

I quickly ran her home to clean her teeth (and mine), because it’s bad enough having someone right up close to her face without them chancing the smell of today’s cafeteria lunch on her breath.

She was chatty today. Someone (Oscar?) kept making her laugh, she’d had a good P.E session in the morning (which sounded like an alien concept to me), they had an art session in the afternoon and she was sad she didn’t get to finish it. Now I felt bad.

“What did you paint?” I asked, trying to keep her mood happy.

“Bongo!”

Of course. And here I thought we’d be able to have at least one conversation this week that didn’t involve the dog we don’t even have.

I held her hand as we walked from the car park in the village over the road to the practice, and then sent her to sit down while I checked her in.

“Hi, Susie,”

“Hi, Floss,” she smiled up at me from behind the glass pod she always sat in.

“My daughter has an appointment at 3?”

“Right, of course. Full name?”

I frowned. She knew my full name. “Florence Fuentes-Carter.”

She gave me a dead look. “I meant your little one.”

Whoops. “Sorry. Ruby Fuentes-Carter.”

“And date of birth?”

Ruby’s, not yours, Florence. “1st of May 2016.”

Susie nodded, smiling. “Not long until she’s 6?”

“I know.” I said, and made an exasperated face.

“Okay, he’s a bit late - he’s just out running an errand, but he won’t be long.”

“Sure. We’re in no rush.”

I went and sat next to Ruby where she was playing with the children’s toys. We kept going with our conversation about her day while she played and I aimlessly scrolled through my phone. She was still talking about whoever it was that was making her laugh, but I hadn’t managed to work out who it was yet. Not because I wasn’t listening but because the name she was saying sounded weird and I hadn’t heard her talk about them before. At this point I could only deduce that it was a boy. I was just pleased she wasn’t talking about ‘Bongo’ for five minutes.

I wasn’t sure how long we were sitting in the waiting room, but it got to a point where I was beginning to get fidgety and Ruby literally ran out of things to talk about. I nearly got up to ask what was taking so long, but just as my patience reached its rare end, Susie finally shouted for us.

“Ruby, you can go in now!”

Thank fuck for that.

I stood from my chair as Ruby did from her place on the floor, and I took her hand to walk her in the right direction. When we reached the door I let her go in ahead of me, and she was still full of life apparently, since she all but bounded into the room.

“Hello!” She shouted, announcing her arrival.

I laughed and shook my head, ready to greet Dr Wade. Except it wasn’t Dr Wade at all.

“Hello,” Dr Styles grinned at my child, a surgical mask pulled low around his chin as he fixed a flimsy looking cap on his head, covering his curls, “who have we got here?”

Oh, shit.

“Ruby Fuentes-Carter.” My daughter said proudly, already clambering up onto the chair (the correct one, I might add) in preparation.

“Well, Ruby Fuentes-Carter,” the dentist swivelled on his chair, his full focus on Ruby, “are you ready for your check up?”

“Yes!”

“Excellent!” He clapped his hands together once. Then, he looked right at me, and I felt like an ugly potato all over again. “This must be Mum?”

I cleared my throat. “Hi.”

“Florence, right?” He asked, lip twitching with a smile. “Or Floss, I think we established last time?”

“That’s me.” I muttered.

“Would you like to sit down?” He offered. “The sofa is perfectly acceptable this time.”

I wanted to cry. “Thank you.”

I moved over to the sofa and sat down, but I was far from comfortable and rigid as an iron rod. Where was Dr Wade?!

“So, Ruby, have we been cleaning regularly?”

“Twice a day!”

“Good girl.” He said, snapping a pair of gloves on. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

Ruby opened her mouth as wide as it would go, meanwhile the dentist raised the chair until it was practically touching the ceiling.

“That’s it,” he said, moving right into her personal space, “now say ‘ah’,”

Ruby’s “Ah,” felt like it lasted an entire lifetime.

“Perfect! Now I’m just going to have a closer look to make sure everything is as it should be, alright?”

“Okay.”

For the next five minutes, Dr Styles poked around my baby’s mouth with metal prongs and that one utensil with a teeny tiny mirror on the end of it. He mumbled unintelligible nonsense to the nurse on his left, who typed more nonsense into the computer.

I didn’t notice it straight away, but as I watched them I rocked back and forth where I sat like a schizophrenic in a psych ward. I stopped it immediately when Dr Styles looked straight at me again.

“She hasn’t lost any teeth yet, has she?”

I blinked, taking a moment longer to register his question as I stared at him. “Er, no. She hasn’t.”

He nodded once. “Right. Well, I’d say by the looks of things they’re starting to loosen up. Might wanna get them pound coins ready.”

“What for?” I asked stupidly.

The nurse rubbed her cheek. The dentist cocked his head at me.

Ruby sat up straight even though no one had told her to. “The tooth fairy, Mummy!”

“Oh, right… yeah.” I produced a flat laugh.

“Well, apart from that, everything looks absolutely fine. You’ve a very healthy set of teeth, Ruby.”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” He grinned. And then he looked at me again. “D’you fancy trying again, Floss?”

My stomach fell out of my arse. “Trying what again?”

He licked his lips, clearly fighting off laughter. “A check up.”

“For who?”

He pressed his mouth shut tightly and shook his head. “Never mind. You’re um, free to go.”

I stood up in a flash and held my hand out. “Come on Rubes. Say thank you to the dentist.”

“Thank you, Dentist!” She squealed as she grabbed onto me, dragging me whilst skipping out of the door.

“You’re welcome!”

Although Ruby’s eagerness to leave perplexed me somewhat, it did match my own desire to get the fuck out of there as quickly as possible. We practically ran to the car.

“Mummy, why were you so weird around that man?”

I swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what you mean, darlin’.”

“You were funny with him! You forgot about the tooth fairy!”

I failed to see the correlation between the two. “I did forget about her, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. Are you in love with the dentist?”

“Blimey, no!” I giggled. “I don’t know him at all - he’s a stranger.”

“Oh. Do you think he’s pretty?”

I wasn’t sure why Ruby felt the need to interrogate me about him, but I knew if I didn’t answer her she’d just repeat herself until I did. “I guess so? I’ve seen worse-looking men.”

She went quiet for a moment. “Okay.” She turned her head to look out the window, and never said a word until we got home again.

Another day, another screaming match at the front door to the kid's club. I was overwhelmed this morning. I couldn’t understand what it was. I know I kept repeating myself but I was at a complete loss.

I didn’t do it very often while she was in such a state, but I picked Ruby up onto my hip and held her to me as I wandered inside to talk to the lady in charge. I couldn’t find her immediately, but I was horrified by the amount of children that were screaming and making a mess.

“Er, Lorraine,” I started as soon as I’d found her, hidden away in a kind of cubby hole making a round of hot drinks.

She looked at me, a somewhat irritated expression about her “Hi, Florence,”

“Hi, yeah, um… have you figured out at all what’s happening?” I asked, admittedly in a rather short manner, but I was annoyed. Why was she worried about her own drinks when there were close to 20 children wreaking havoc in the next room with no other member of staff in sight?

“No, I’m sorry. Ruby generally keeps to herself when she’s here, no one bothers her and she doesn’t bother anyone else. Perhaps she doesn’t like leaving her mum.” She shrugged, taking two mugs off the side and squeezing around me.

I followed her with a glare. What an absolute load of bollocks. My daughter, who never shut up about school and all the friends she had there, did not seem like the kind of child to ‘keep to herself’.

“I’m sorry, I just find that hard to believe.”

“Why? Don’t the two of you get on?” Her question came off as patronising. “That might be understandable being an only parent and all. Might be some feelings inside about not having a father figure in her life she’s suppressing.”

“Excuse me?” I was on fire in all ways except literally. “I was talking about the fact that Ruby seems to have a never-ending list of friends at school and it seems very unlikely that she’d keep to herself when I know for damn certain that a number of them come here in the mornings as well.”

“Oh, I was just telling you what I’d observed, Florence. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“No, but you were quite happy to give your opinion anyway.” I was squeezing Ruby to me as if I felt she might vanish. I didn’t want to leave her here. “I am just asking you to do your bloody job, Lorraine. Something is happening to her here in the mornings and I want you to find out what it is, because it is literally in your job description. I wouldn’t just not fix a car that you brought in because I didn’t feel like doing it, would I? Because I’m pretty sure you’d be pissed off ab-,”

“Please don’t swear in here.”

I wasn’t a violent person, but I wanted to smack her. Really hard. I imagined grabbing her by her stupid hair and dragging her around the room. “Just keep an eye on her, please? It really isn’t that hard.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Florence.”

I placed Ruby on the floor again, but I never looked away from Lorraine. “Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

I turned my back to her, focusing on my child again. I brushed my hands over her wet face, and tucked her fluffy hair behind her ears. “Baby, I really have to go.”

She sniffed and wiped the cuff of her school cardigan under her snotty nose. I grimaced inwardly. That’d need to be washed later. “I’m sorry, Mummy.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t want to leave you here when you’re like this, so I’m the one that’s sorry.”

“I’ll be okay.” Ruby said with some newfound determination.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I promise.” She nodded.

I sighed and stroked her cheek. “Alright, give me a hug.”

She fell into my open arms, and I squeezed her tightly again and littered kisses into her hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mummy.”

I reluctantly left her in the Hut from Hell and made my way back to the car. I took a minute before I turned the engine on, because underneath the exterior I showed off to Lorraine and to Ruby, I was upset. If anything, I felt a little exposed, but I was angry that I was exposed by someone like Lorraine, who never showed a sentimental feeling towards anyone.

I rested my head against the steering wheel and took multiple long and deep breaths. I shouldn’t let a woman like that get under my skin. She was essentially evil delivered in its most basic form; I knew all she was out to do was make people feel like shit so she could feel better about herself.

I drove to work still with a heavy heart. What really got to me was that she questioned my bond with my baby. Ruby was my entire purpose in life wrapped up in the way of a sweet, funny and intelligent little bundle of joy. Who the fuck was Lorraine to question the strength of our relationship based on the fact that her father wasn’t in the picture?

Once I got to the garage and it was opened up I sat at my desk and started crying. I didn’t cry very often - I didn’t have a reason to. I had a good and happy life. I had a child that I loved and that loved me. I had parents that I had a close relationship with, I had friends I saw on a regular basis and could rely on to help me if I needed them. There was nothing to be sad about in my life, not really. So why was I letting this horrible woman make me feel like I’d done something wrong?

“Floss, are you alright?”

I looked up through wet eyes at Zara. “Am I a bad mum?”

Her eyes widened, and she wiped a tear away rolling down my cheek with her index finger. “Er, no. Absolutely not, you’re an amazing mum. Why, what happened?”

I grunted and scowled at my lap. “Nothing. The woman that runs the morning club at the school said something about Ruby not having a dad and it’s just kind of… bugged me a bit.”

“What a fucking bitch.” Zara scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Is this because Ruby has a panic attack every morning when you drop her off?”

“Basically. I asked her again to watch out for her and just look at what’s happening and why Ruby might hate it and she got so, like, just rude. Saying she wouldn’t be surprised if Ruby had some ‘suppressed’ feelings towards me, whatever the fuck that means.”

“Floss, that is completely out of order. You should put in a formal complaint to the school about her - she can’t say shit like that.”

“And if I do complain about her? Then what? She might make Ruby’s life there worse than it already is. I’d love to stop sending her there but there is nowhere else I can take her.”

“Well… I could always look after her for an hour while you open up here.”

“Zara, you don’t have a car to take her to school in.”

“We could walk - it’s not that far.”

“It’s all along that main road, though. People drive like idiots down there - I’d be terrified.”

“I’d hold her hand.”

“No, Zara. I will figure something else out, it’s fine.”

“Well, it’s obviously not fine because Ruby hates it there and you’re upset.”

“I’m a grown woman.”

“A grown woman who doesn’t know what suppressed means.”

“I bet lots of people don’t know what suppressed means.”

“Okay, anyway,” Zara shook her head, “I think I have something that will cheer you up.”

“What?”

“I found you a date.” She grinned.

I cringed. I forgot she was even looking for someone to send me on a date with. “Really?”

“Yep. You’re gonna love him. He’s very sexy.”

I made an unintelligible noise. “Are we talking by your standards or mine?”

“I will not take offence to that… but by anyone’s standards. If there is a person on Earth who doesn’t think this man is good-looking, I have no hope for them.”

I snorted. “Okay, well… you better be right.”

“Excellent.” Zara grinned. “You’re going out on Friday.”

“Not tomorrow?”

“Ew, no. Next Friday, at The Swan.”

“Right…”

“And if it goes terribly, me and Geri will be at her house so you can run away, and we’ll get you drunk enough to forget about it.”

I blew my breath out harshly. “That’s a good idea, I like that.”

“I thought you might.” She smacked my shoulder. “Right, come on. There’s a Honda Civic out there with your name on it.”

I looked out into the main garage. “What’s wrong with it?”

“The engine is overheating, apparently.”

“Fun. I think I need a cuppa first, though.”

👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

five & six

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harrys styles imagines #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles ff

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riley1cannon · 10 months

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A couple of years ago I was reading this contemporary romance novel set it Alaska (title and author escape and I'm feeling too lazy to look it up, but there was this grumpy diner dude ala Luke Danes, and the heroine kept having mishaps that ruined her Alaska vacation, and there was a controversy over a big resort development) and it was okay, not great, but any potential it had was utterly flattened when this moose, initially presented as comic relief that would be ongoing through the book -- the moose gets into trouble and has to be relocated, and the diner dude who was best buds with the moose takes this hard, and this particular reader was also none too pleased. I skimmed through the rest of the book to the predictable ending, and decided against reading anything else by the author.

So, okay, that's one romance novel ruined due to unnecessary animal drama. What are the odds it would ever happen again? Slim to none, I would have said. But then here comes Mr. Impossible by Loretta Chase, and it already had some problems but then ... Then the hero and heroine are in danger, alerted to the danger by a brave little donkey named Hermione, and they set about saving themselves and proceeding to undoubtedly vanquish the villain(s) and achieve their HEA -- But what happened to the donkey!?! Huh? I skimmed and skimmed and could find no update on poor little Hermione! And I trusted you, Ms. Chase, because just a few chapters earlier I had been concerned about Marigold the Mongoose, but you saved her. Why no kindness for Hermione?

This book wasn't going to get five stars from me anyway (too much instalust, too much trying so hard to capture the fun of Evie Carnahan and Rick O'Connell and not coming close, too much me comparing it to Amelia Peabody when it shouldn't even be mentioned in the same breath really), but then this poor little donkey is abandoned and left to her cruel fate, and it promptly went on the DNF pile.

(Fair question: If I had otherwise been enjoying the book, would I have dumped it just because of the donkey? No, probably not. This is similar to cozy mysteries, for instance, when the only compliment I can pay is that I really liked the dog or cat.)

So, anyway, that was a dud. One of the few this year, knock wood.

P.S. If someone out there has read this book and can tell me that, in fact, Hermione does turn up later alive and well, that would be appreciated. Won't make me want to pick it up again and finish it, but it would be good to know.

#the only thing for it is to watch the mummy #and resume my reread of amelia peabody #amelia would never stand for donkey abuse #she would also take her terrible parasol to everyone in this book

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

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Make Me | 🔞 | JJK x Reader

Pairing:Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Romance, Lowkey kinda crack, Smut, slight angst

Wordcount: 3.4k (its pretty short since I plan on giving you guys random smut-shots for this, so a lot of the scenes didn't make it into this one.)

Tags/warnings: Playful teasing, swearing, name calling, slight hair pulling, smut, usage of toys (remote controlled), slight angst, they be fighting a lil, it's a pretty low-carb meal really, very lightweight, okay I don't think there's anything else to say

Summary: Jungkook and you; a couple that's not only connected under the name of lovers- but best friends and enemies as well.

Jungkook is absolutely in love with you.

That may be hard to believe, considering the two of you currently fighting on the couch over the last bite of your burger. You're not play-fighting like cutesy couples either, no; you're both acting as if starvation was the only alternative.

Its really not; there's plenty other takeout still on the table.

"I paid for this shit you ungrateful bitch!" He laughs out as you stuff the bite into your mouth, hands high in triumph. "I can't believe you sometimes." He mumbles, watching you chew and swallow before he attacks again. He's careful with you, although it might not seem that way. Jungkook wouldn't dare to injure you in any way, always getting apologetic every time he accidentally bruises your skin. He pins your arms on the couch, predatory eyes staring at you as you raise your eyebrows.

"What'cha gonna do about it?" You challenge, and he groans out as he lets you go.

"Fuck you!" He says, and you laugh out loud. "Don't make me fucking pop a boner- I don't wanna eat cold french fries!" He whines while reaching for said food item, and you shrug as you reach for the pack of chicken nuggets, opening a tiny tub of sauce. "I can't believe you." He chuckles, unable to hold up his facade of being upset about all of it.

He really isn't.

Everyone of his friends thinks its weird- the relationship you two had. He himself however always felt like he had won the jackpot with you; he had a hot girlfriend he didn't have to change anything for. There was no need to be all romantic and cheesy and make himself into someone he wasn't. Being gentle was no requirement with you; you were his absolute best friend, and also lover at the same time.

He had it all with you.

Hard to believe, but Jungkook had been very realistic about it with you. Of course it had been exciting when you two had hooked up for the first time- but the more he got to know you, the more he fell in love with your honest nature and loving personality. You were passionate about your art, never let someone talk down on you, always spoke your mind. You were a challenge, a tiger waiting to be tamed, and Jungkook was as ready as he had ever been to try and do just that. Because right now you were young, you were wild, and one day, you'll have lived all of your dreams. Somewhere deep down, he already imagines it. Sometimes. The way he'll buy a house for you two, how he'll marry you and knock you up to make his family complete.

But for now, you were simply two young lovers in the moment.

Theres a drop of sauce on the top of your breast, and you don't even notice the way Jungkook stares as you wipe it off with your finger, licking it clean like second nature. He's furrowing his brows as he throws his head back, pure agony in his voice as he growls out. "God what is it now?" You playfully complain, last bite of your food gone in your mouth as you look at him with amusement. "Don't tell me you're still hard." You say.

"Fuck off, it's your fault!" He laughs out, unable to quite conceal how funny the entire situation seems to him as well. "Can't you sit on my dick while I finish my food?" He whines, pouting expression thrown your way as you give him a look that says more than you could with words. "Okay yeah saying that out loud makes it sound weird." He mumbles, speeding up his speed as he finishes his food. He swallows after a moment, leaning back on the couch as he gives himself a moment to settle. Maybe he'll come down on his own.

But then again, as he looks at you, he has to remember what his mother always told him.

'don't let the food get cold'

And its your laughter in his ears that makes him smile as he crawls over you, pulling your shirt over your head as he decides no; he doesn't want to wait.

"Jungkookie, LOOK!" You exclaim as he walks inside your studio, watching as you were petting a massive dog. Maybe a great dane? Mastiff? It didn't matter at all- because you were so happy his attention wasn't on the animal next to you at all. "He's so cute, aren't you?" You say, squishing the dogs head a little. Jungkook laughs.

"Please don't tell me you want a dog now." He says, and you look at him with large eyes. "No, please, we can barely take care of ourselves right now!" He laughs. "Bring it up again when you can walk stairs without stumbling." He teases, and you stare daggers at him.

"At least I'm not scared of the fucking microwave." You mumble, as you stand up, the customer absolutely entertained by the two of you. Jungkook slaps your butt as an answer to your teasing, making you squeal scandalized. "Jungkook! That's public indecency!" You exclaim, and Jungkook laughs as he sits down on a chair in the waiting lounge you're standing in.

"If that's true I gladly get arrested." He says, and you roll your eyes as you say your goodbyes to the customer and his very lovable pet, getting your stuff to walk over to him. "Good to go?" He asks, and you nod, walking out next to him as you spot his car outside- or rather, the small van his company provided him. You have had your suspicions already as he was still wearing his work attire- this sight now spoke out clearly what you were fearing.

"Jungkook no-" You whine, and he sighs, silently telling you were right. "You promised no more overtime!" You said. "We were supposed to have a nice weekend!" You say, genuinely upset, and he can see it; the look in your eyes is pure disappointment, brows scrunched up as your shoulder slump down. "You promised." You mumble, as he opens the passenger door for you, letting you get inside the car.

"I'm sorry, but Tae called in sick and they asked who could take his shift." He explained as he drove home, well knowing that this was no excuse for you. But instead of voicing that out like you usually did, you were silent.

He did not like that.

"I'm really sorry." He says again, but you're still not answering him. "Baby?" He tries, but you're looking out the window, not sparing him even a glance. He knows he fucks up sometimes, but this is entirely new territory for him. Never had he had to deal with you genuinely upset with him, at least not to this extend- because at the moment it seemed as if you were ready to open that door at the next red light and walk right away from him.

The thought alone made him shudder- and not in a good way.

He tries again, but this time you speak; voice quiet, serious, and way too formal for him to feel comfortable with. "Just bring me home Jungkook." The way you say his name makes him bite the inside of his cheek. He's now upset at himself as well. He knew how much you had been looking forward to a shared weekend together. He should've not said anything when they asked who could take over the shift.

And as he came to a stop in front of your shared apartment, it only got worse. Because for the first time, you just got out of his car, closing the door, and went into the apartment complex.

You didn't give him his kiss to the cheek like you did every time- even when you were mad.

You didn't say goodbye.

You didn't even look back.

"I don't want you gone all the time." You whine out as you hold onto him, his hands on your back as he helps you stay where you are on his lap, your head in his neck as you breath heavily. "I need you." You say, and its one of the rare moments you're open like that. He's eating it up, drinking it in, as he holds you, palms all over your bare skin while you move lazily.

"I know, I'm sorry, I really am." He breathes out, placing kisses to your shoulder, helping you rock on his cock so you won't have to do all the work. "I need you too, I really do, I'm sorry." He mumbles, slipping out of you for a moment before he lays you flat on the bed, guiding his length back inside you as he looms over your body, kissing your skin as if he's worshipping you, as if he can't get close enough to you, his hands holding onto your middle as he keeps you stable while he pushes into you slowly.

"Faster-" You beg him, but he shakes his head, not picking up his pace at all as you whine. "Kookie please-" You say, and he shakes his head again.

"No, we got time." He argues back, and you open your eyes at that, looking to the side. "What is it?" He asks.

"We don't." You say. "You have to get up early tomorrow." You say, and Jungkook shakes his head, making you roll your eyes for a moment as you want to continue- but he shuts you up with a well practiced hand on your clit, your body reacting instantly as your toes curl up. "Jungkook-"

"I don't." He says, gritting his teeth as he finally picks up his pace. "I took time off." He breathes out. "Told them I need the weekend." His hand is eager to have you come undone underneath him as your legs move, heels digging into the small of his back as you snake them around his body the best you can considering the size difference. "Told them I got my girlfriend at home, and guess what?" He asks, and you mewl at his antics. "No one's gonna call me up. Phone's on airplane mode." You're suddenly frantic, hands gripping the bedsheets underneath you as he doesn't let up, smiles into your neck as he bites and sucks his marks. "They can fuck off while I fuck you." He whispers, and you suddenly snap, back arching as you come, his violent thrusting making you sob dryly, fingers reaching for his arms as you dig them into his inked skin.

That's your art underneath his skin, safely tucked away to be guarded from time. That's your ink on his body, your way of making him yours. And this, the way he mouths and nibbles and bites and kisses- that's his way of making you his.

He slips out, desperately rutting into his own hand as he cums onto your lower belly, his release staining the sheets below.

But it doesn't matter in that moment.

He gladly cleans up afterwards.

"Would you ever wanna live in New Zealand?" You ask him, as he makes sure not to burn any of the food on the grill.

It's your yearly holiday trip, this time in the cold of new Zealand, a camping van your home for the two weeks you'd decided to travel the country. "I mean, why not?" He tells you, turning a piece of meat over, before he looks at you sitting next to him, all bundled up in his way too large puffer jacket. It's already large on him- so it almost swallows you whole. But it also awakens something inside him, seeing you wear his clothes like that. He feels protective, weirdly so.

"Hmhm." You say. "The people seem nice here." You say, and then you rest your head against his shoulder, making him smile as his arm wraps around you- a movement almost instinctual at this point. "But I don't know, won't we miss home?" You wonder, and Jungkook shrugs.

"I don't really need a home as long as you're with me." He says, speaking it out loud without thinking as you suddenly detach from him. He looks at you, worried he might've said something too much, but you look at him so.. he can't describe it. Your lips are on his in the next second, before you go to the van to retrieve some paper plates.

"Oh my god, that was-" You say, balancing cutlery in your arm. "-The most romantic fucking thing you've ever said!" You say, putting everything onto the camping table as he chuckles. "No, I mean it. That was so movie-worthy!" You say. "I feel like I'm in a K-Drama!" You exclaim, and he laughs.

"They don't swear that much in K-Dramas." He corrects you playfully, but still smiles. "But yeah I get you. Sometimes I feel like this isn't real too. Too good to be true and all that." He says, and you suddenly squeal, making him look at you.

"Stop!" You say, before you hug him tightly.

You're looking through clothing items when you suddenly feel it.

The sudden buzzing right inside you, making your foot studder in its step as you try to conceil your reaction as best as you can. You can feel your thighs clenching, muscles contracting as the feeling of the bullet vibrator. And one look towards Jungkook sitting on a chair in front of the dressing stalls makes you want to punch him right in his pretty face.

He's got his hand inside his sweater pocket, smirking slightly at your struggle as he doesn't seem to care who's sitting next to him- or who could see you and connect the dots. He likes things like that; the slight thrill of getting caught and the literall proof that you had given him all control making him feel absolute bliss.

You're more concerned about the fact that you're about to cum.

Right inside this fucking store.

You shoot him daggers, and he simply has the audacity to smile, shrugging his arms as if he's got no idea what you mean. He tones it down a little, turning it off for now when he felt like he'd tortured you enough; stripping you of your orgasm as well. You want to whine out, complain, but you simply but the clothes back where they belong, walking up to him. "Oh? Nothing caught your eye baby?" He asks innocently, and you simply smile, shaking your head. "Alright." He says, getting up to walk out with you.

And its inside the car after he had parked in a secluded spot on a scarcely lit parking lot that he turns the device on again. "I have to say.." He starts, watching you squirm in the passenger seat, hands instantly clenching into fists as your legs squeeze together. "I'm not mad anymore I almost paid a hundred bucks for this thing." He tells you. "Feels good baby?" He asks, and you nod- but its not enough for Jungkook. "I can't hear you." He tells you, and you have to cut yourself off to not moan out loud.

"I-t.. ah- feels good.." You somehow get out, squirming and slowly growing desperate as he keeps the setting low- too low for you to actually cum. He's enjoying the show for a moment, until he reaches underneath his drivers' seat, fumbling around before the seat rolls back, making more room. You know what's going to happen next. "Can I-?" You start, and he nods, helping you safely onto his lap.

"You look so pretty like this." He praises, hands underneath your clothing as he gently fondles your breasts- enjoying the fact you've decided to skip the bra today. "Hm?" He humms against your skin, before he leans back, switching onto the highest setting. He doesn't even need to touch himself to get off, he knows that already; the sight in front of you enough to get him going. You're erratic at this point, Hips rutting into nothing as you hold your hands awkwardly in front of your mouth. Jungkook reaches out, letting you hold onto him, and he feels weirdly loving at the sight of you holding onto him so desperately. "Oh?" He suddenly asks, noticing you stutter. "Cum baby. Come on." He urges, and you want to tell him its too much, too much, but then you suddenly cum, and he tones it down a little, letting you ride it out as you clumsily fondle him over his jeans- only a few movements enough for him however to come undone inside his pants. "Shh, you're good, good job, good girl." He humms out, letting you rest against his chest for a moment, closing his eyes as he enjoys the moment with you.

He's really not mad about the hundred bucks anymore.

One thing Jungkook had come to live with was the fact that you loved everything cute.

You collected anything pink and soft and cute, plushies being his go-to present because he knew that would always be a bullseye-shot with you. They're all over the place, but Jungkook doesn't mind. Even though he can't understand the appeal of some of them, he himself understands the appeal of collecting things. And he's also not one to judge- having accepted you with every piece and habit you have.

That doesn't mean he doesn't tease you for it.

"Why's the rat wearing old granny clothes?"jungkook snorts, jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to you, who is currently trying to sew a hole on your melody plush toy shut.

"Shut up, Melody isn't a rat!" You mumble, making Jungkook chuckle as he eats his popsicle, watching you work. He really likes how delicate your hands are; they fit nicely in his hands whenever he holds them. Yours get cold a lot- and he likes giving you some warmth whenever he can.

Anything for you.

"I think its a rat." He tells you, giggling boyishly when you throw your head back, groaning. He gets up to walk into the kitchen to throw the wooden stick of his treat away, as he hears you.

"Well detective melody thinks you're a little bitch." You retort. And only seconds later, jungkook is behind you, looking over your shoulder to check if its clear- he doesn't want you to hurt yourself with the needle. Once he's made sure, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it back so you're looking at him upside down.

"You wanna say that again sweetheart?" He growls out, and your sparkling eyes shout mischievously at him from below.

He loves the powerplay.

But this time you decide to ge cute, holding the stuffed toy into his face as you giggle. "Its melodys words, not mine!" You argue, and he laughs, before he pushes the toy aside, pressing a kiss to your nose before he walks back into the kitchen again. "Although I can't argue with whats been said-" you start, and Jungkook shouts from the kitchen as you laugh.

"I wasn't a little bitch last night when I was balls deep in-" he starts, and you scream over his words, scandalized.

"Jungkook, not when melody is listening!"

"So.." Jimin started, looking at your hand. "You wanna explain that expensive ass thing?" He asks, before he slaps the table. "Don't tell me its real!" He asks, eyes wide as you laugh.

"Why, you wanna steal n' sell?" You challenge, and he shakes his head, now a little more serious.

"No, I just wondered. He popped the question or not?" He asks, and you can't help the grin that spreads onto your cheeks. But before any of you can answer, the man in question walks inside, having heard the conversation.

"I did, and that means you can fuck off Park." He challenges, roughly pushing the elder away with a hand on his head, making everyone laugh at their antics. "How's my fiance doing?" He asks. "Still walking like a newborn babydeer?" He teases, and you smack his head with a printout you had rolled up. "Ow, you literally told me to go hard, don't be mad now!" He says, before running away from your red-faced form, chasing him with the printouts around the studio.

Yeah, some things never change.

And that's ok.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Don't try reposting on AO3 or your mom's facebook. I got eyes everywhere.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Make Me! AU

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curlybookwriter0294 · 3 years

Text

Birds and Bees

Summary: Dick Grayson just wanted to make some coffee before morning training with the team. He was not exactly inspecting to discover that Damian and Raven are in a relationship and were having a make out session in the kitchen and he was also not inspecting to have a very specific conversation with him about it either.

Oh, what a lovely morning.

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own anything from the DC universe or the Teen Titans :)

Notes: We get to see Dick being a big brother to Damian 😁

It had started out as a decent morning so far for Dick Grayson. He woke up when the sun rising with different patches of pink and oranges surrounding the room of his Tamaranian girlfriend that was sleeping soundly next to him.

He turned from the window to lean down to kiss the top of her hair before he got up from the bed and grabbed some clothes that was scattered around the floor below him and quietly slip out of the room to get started on coffee before the start of morning training with the team. He hummed a random tune as he made his way down to the kitchen to get started but suddenly paused his moments because of hushed voices that was coming from the kitchen.

“What if someone walks in?” Said a voice that sounded a lot like Raven.

Dick’s eyebrow lifted with interest as he leaned against the wall that would lead him to the kitchen, wondering who the quiet empath was talking to and what could she be doing.

“No one would dare to interrupt us Raven.”

Dick’s mouth fell open when he recognized Damian’s low voice. What was Damian Wayne doing in the kitchen with Raven? Granted, ever since the lavender eyed empath had brought in the Great Dane puppy named Titus now three years old, he had noticed that they’ve gotten closer ever since. In his eyes he shouldn’t even be surprise that they would be in the kitchen probably making tea. Maybe with the way things were said made him think that they were talking about something completely not so innocent things.

He was about to walk in to greet the young hero birds when suddenly things had gotten quiet, and it made him pause his steps when he started hearing what it sounded like heavy breathing. Seconds later, his whole body froze when he started hearing kissing noises. A sound that he was too familiar with because he had shared a ton of kisses with Kori.

Wait, kissing noises?! Since when have these two started kissing? And why in the kitchen of all places?! That’s why there’s tons of room in the tower! They cook in the kitchen!

“Damian….” Dick heard Raven muttered breathlessly. “We should really go somewhere else with this.”

“Don’t worry about it, Raven.” Damian told her, reassuring her before the sounds of kissing and heavy breaths resumed.

Dick shook his head as he rakes his fingers through dark hair as he started pacing in circles, wondering about what to do in this situation. He wants to know why him of all people that he had to be the one to catch them kissing in the kitchen? Should he even interrupt them?

His blue eyes widen as more thoughts entered his mind. What if—they’ve been doing more than just kissing? Dick shook his head at the thought, but he knows that he should do something and fast. He sighed heavily when he realized that he very soon he was going to have a very serious conversation with the teen hero. A conversation that he was all too familiar with.

Dick squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before striding into the kitchen and found the teens leaning against the counter making out with their arms wrapped around each other. Dick smiled at them when they had pulled away quickly once they had noticed that they were no longer alone in the kitchen. “Good morning!” he said, humming when he had walked over to start the coffee pot. “Don’t mind me, please continue!”

“Grayson…” The youngest Robin said through clenched teeth. “How long were you there?”

Dick eyed the annoyed former assassin that was standing very close to the embarrassed empath with a protective arm wrapped around her. Dick shrugged his shoulders when he smirked at him. “Not long don’t worry. How long has this been going on? I am extremely curious.”

“That’s none of your business.” Damian said, narrowing his emerald eyes at the older raven-haired man.

Dick rolled his eyes when he turned around to put creamer in his coffee, making sure to stir it with a spoon that he had grabbed from a drawer before taking a small sip. “Then you should’ve gone somewhere with a bit more… privacy,” he pointed out to him nonchalantly. “After all, there are hundreds of rooms in this tower.”

Dick cocked his head to the side as he tapped the edge of the coffee cup with a finger, watching Raven remove herself from Damian’s hold that he had on her protectively. “I should…” her violet eyes looked at his ocean ones for a moment before her eyes looked down elsewhere to avoid his curious stare. “Take Titus for a walk.” He smiled at her as he watched her walk out of the kitchen to leave Dick and Damian alone.

The two of them held contest and Dick never removed his azure eyes away from the forest irises as he continues sipping his coffee slowly on purpose, waiting for the youngest hero to say something to break the silence that had fell between them after she had left. He chuckled when Damian folded his arms tightly over his chest and Dick assumes that he was probably plotting at least over a hundred ways to kill him right about now.

“So…” Dick began, clearing his throat as he sat his coffee down on the counter next to him and leaned casually against it. “You and Raven huh? I am quite surprised,” he told him truthfully, scratching the back of his neck. “How long has this been going on?”

His lips curled up in a lopsided smirk when he saw a flash of pink on Damian’s cheeks. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about Damian. Though, I need to know something.”

“And I told you before Grayson,” Damian muttered out through clenched teeth. “It’s none of your damn business. So, there’s nothing that you need to know about what’s going on between Raven and I.”

The former Robin rolled his eyes at the hostility that he was receiving. He knows that the son of his mentor can be difficult at times and he had hoped that he would be willing to open up or at least talk to him rather than the Dark Knight himself. Maybe if Dick haven’t been teasing him about the new discovery of Damian’s relationship with Raven, he would’ve had a different outcome. He sighed heavily as he thought of another way to ask him questions.

“If we are done here…” Damian said, making his way out of the kitchen after he had grown tired of Dick’s pestering but stopped on his heels when he heard the older hero clearing his throat and he looked over his shoulder with a tight frown. “What?”

“I… am happy for you Dami,” Dick ignored the scowl that the youngest Robin was giving him at the nickname. “It’s just, uh,” he muttered as he tried to come up with an idea on how to start this conversation in a way that wouldn’t be awkward for the two of them even though it was mainly about the younger male. “I know that it’s not my business, but I think we need to have a conversation about something.” He nodded his head towards the medium size kitchen table, lifting a brow when he had walked over to sit down in one of the chairs and pointed to the other one that was across from him.

“What kind of conversation Grayson?” Damian asked, trying to decide if he should walk over to the chair or to just simply walk away from him all together. He doesn’t have time for riddles or games with the annoying hero that was waiting patiently for him to walk over to sit with him. “Tell me now. I do not have time for this.”

“Oh? Then I guess we should hurry then so you can get back to Raven.” Dick didn’t miss the way Damian’s cheeks turn slightly pink at her name. He smiled when Damian finally decided to walk over to across from him reluctantly after a few seconds of silence. “Good. Good,” he pushed back a few loose strands of his hair as he chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he tries to figure out on how to start the conversation.

“Well? Out with it. Or I will walk out of here.” Damian told him, breaking into Dick’s thoughts. He folded his arms over his chest and shot him a glare. “Now,” he demanded when Dick didn’t say anything more.

“Are you two…” Dick started to say before stopping himself as he tries to think of a term to say. He could tell from the annoyed stare that Damian was giving him that he was about two seconds away from leaving the kitchen all together. “Active?”

“What do you mean by active?” Damian asked, knitting his brows together.

Dick shifted awkwardly in his chair as he tried not to let the young hero know that he was quite uncomfortable in this situation. He rubbed the back of his neck and sucked in a breath. “Are you two sexually active?” he tried again with more confidence this time. “You can be honest with me, Dami,” he added when he saw Damian narrowing his green irises at him.

“ I told you before that it’s not your damn—”

“Business? Yea, I know. You’ve told me that at least twice now,” Dick interrupted with a sort, shaking his head when he had leaned forward in his chair. “Listen. I want us to be honest with each other alright. Can you please just answer the question.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what sexual intercourse is. We don’t need to have a conversation about this.” Damian huffed out with a roll of his eyes as his patience started to grow thin.

Dick mentally groaned at Damian’s response of the topic and pursed his lips together in a thin line. “Just because you know about the basics of it doesn’t mean you actually know what it is,” he pointed out, folding his arms over chest as he tried not to smirk when Damian eased his glare at him. “That’s what I thought. Now,” he tried again, sighing heavily as he uncrossed his arms. “Have you two…”

“We haven’t…. not yet,” Damian jumped in, clearing his throat as he tries his best to avoid Dick’s ocean stare from across the table.

Dick released his breath that he didn’t realize he was holding when the teen had finally answered his question. He felt relieved at his answer and knew it must’ve been awkward for him. He had felt that way before when he was his age, but his conversation was with the Dark Knight and it had gone quite differently with him. Dick knew that he was different from Damian’s father and yes there were times that he needed to be serious especially on missions but overall, he believes that he has an interesting personality. At least, that’s what Kori would tell him.

“Good! I mean…” Dick paused when the former assassin narrowed his eyes at him. “That’s not what I meant. Promise,” he added quickly. “What I mean is that’s good that you two haven’t yet. That means that there is still time to…” he glanced up at the ceiling as he tried to collect his thoughts together. “Talk about it. Yea, that’s it!”

Damian lifted a brow at the former Robin. “So, what you are telling me is that I should simply ask Raven if she’s willing to copulate with me?”

Dick stared at him blankly at his choice of words that came from the raven-haired teen and had completely forgotten his brain works differently than his and he knows more vocabulary than him. “Yes…” he responded slowly, shaking his when his mind went back to the word that Damian had used. “But don’t use that word. You might get sent to a different dimension if you do,” he warned him. “You have to be more romantic about it and less you about it,” he explained to him.

“How Grayson?” Damian asked slowly. “I’ve done romantic things with her before,” he told him, and Dick’s lips turned upwards when he saw Damian’s olive cheeks turn pink. “But not like this,” he admitted quietly.

“Oh?” Dick wanted to tease the little Robin again about his new relationship, but he held back instead. He could tease him later. He was honestly shocked that Damian even had a romantic side to begin with. “I see,” he said, changing his teasing tone to a calmer one. “Just do what you would normally with her and when the timing is right you bring it up casually. Also,” he paused suddenly as he tried to think of a way to bring this side of the topic up. “You have to make sure that you use protection.”

“You can say condom Grayson. I am not a child. Anything else?” Damian asked, pushing his chair back and was about to get up from the table. “Anything else Grayson?” he asked when Dick didn’t answer right away.

“You need to be…careful with her Damian,” Dick told him after a lull of silence. He made sure to look directly into the young Robin’s emerald irises as he said this. Dick could tell that the teen was confused by what he had meant as his brows furrowed together. “It could hurt her. The first time I mean,” he explained to him slowly. “You have to be gentle with her. You can’t be rough with her. You must communicate with her. If she says to stop…you stop. It’s not all about you. Understand?” he asked in a stern voice.

“I…understand.” Damian said, balling his fists at his side. “I would never to something that could possibly hurt her.”

Dick nodded his head, knowing that Damian had meant what he said and stood up from his chair to walk over towards him. He watched the young hero look at him curiously when Dick reached over to ruffle his hair playfully. “Little D, I am glad that we had this talk,” he told him, chuckling when Damian swatted his hand away from his hair.

“Grayson… enough with the nicknames,” Damian huffed out with a roll of his eyes when he tried to fix his hair the way he had it earlier. He sighed in frustration when his hair wouldn’t go back to way it was before and decided to leave it be. “I’m going to check to see if Raven is back with Titus,” he told him, walking over to the open entryway that separates the kitchen and the living room. He paused his moments and looked over his shoulder to see the older hero making another cup of coffee with two cups instead one and knew that the other cup was for the red haired Tamaranian.

Dick could feel the pair of forest eyes on him as he put sugar in the coffees but didn’t turn around. “Got something on your mind?” he asked as he used the same spoon to stir the creamer he had poured in Kori’s coffee.

“I would like to thank you,” Damian said, and Dick smiled as he looked down at the light brown liquid. “And I will take heed your advice.”

“You are quite welcome D,” Dick said, turning around to face him with two mugs in his hands. He smirked as he walked by him. “Raven is a nice girl. Just take care of her okay?”

“She is… quite nice,” Damian agreed with a nod as he tried his best not to blush as he thought about the woman with maroon eyes and short plum hair. “And I will take care of her with my life. You have my word.”

“I know that you will.” Dick said, nudging his shoulder lightly against the youngest Robin. “Just…” he grinned wickedly as he quickly walked a safe distance away in case of retaliation. “Make sure you guys don’t do it in the kitchen. I’m so damn glad that I didn’t see anything weird besides kissing when I had walked in.”

“Grayson, I am plotting your demise as we speak.”

AN: Hi! I always feel Damian and Dick get along extremely well and I can picture them having this sort of conversation lol and Dick would definitely tease Damian about Raven too lol. Hope you guys liked it!!:)

#damirae #damian x raven #dick grayson #Dick and Damian are siblings #Dick and Damian brotherly bonding #fanfiction #the talk #birds and bees #Damian is 16 #Raven is 17 #Damian Wayne is bad at feelings #damian wayne #raven roth #Damian Wayne is a smartsss LOL #teen titans #teen titans fanfiction #nightwing #robin #nightwing x starfire

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

Ghost of jealousy [Possessive! America x reader]

Wordcount: 5,545 Synopsis: Alfred gets upset when he finds you hanging around Mathias during his Halloween party. You tell him he’s your friend, but everything escalates into an argument, so he takes it outside to his car. He regrets everything he’s done, but you refuse to talk to him while he drives off to find some lodging for the night—an old inn. While you avoid him by staying in a separate room, it becomes apparent there’s something very off about this place. Something otherworldly. Will he make it up to you by saving you before something terrible happens?

(I was inspired by this song by Michael Jackson, “Ghosts”) The reader is referred to as she/her.

It didn’t bother you that Alfred always disappeared during his parties. He was the host, after all, and you were merely another attendee, boyfriend or not. There were guests to interact with, excitement to arouse, and the general gist of event-running. So while he was off doing his business, you loitered around in the kitchen with one of your friends. You were dressed as a mermaid, with a seashell bra and all, while Mathias was in his pirate get-up.

Here away from the incessant pounding of Halloween classics and chatter, you could actually hear him talk. "I think it’s cute that we’re matching! Are you sure you didn’t wear this on purpose just so we could look like a couple?" He grinned, earning a small gasp from you.

"Hey! It’s not my problem you wear the same thing every year, Mathias. I—on the other hand, change it up." You gloated a little at that, giving his hip a light bump. He had been sipping a cup of punch, but spilled some as a result. "Ah! Jeez.” Because it was so dark, with only jack-o-lanterns and fairy lights to illuminate the house, you never even realized.

"What’s wrong?”

"Why don’t you smell my coat to find out?” He hummed mischievously. Cupping a hand around your head, he pulled you in and pressed your face against a mysterious wet patch.

"Ew! What was that?!" You pulled away and rubbed your cheek as he exploded into a fit of laughter.

"... Juice?"

"That’s right, min prinsesse. And it’s all your fault." Leaning in with his hands on his hips, he tapped your nose. A dash of guilt was present in your eyes, so he quickly added this. "Don’t look so stressed, (F/N)! I always forgive what you do to me. Mostly. This time, if you wanna make up for it, you’ll have to go to our after-party for once!"

You blinked. "After-party? You mean with just you and Lukas and everyone?" He nodded excitedly. The question was innocent enough, but really, you had another concern in the back of your mind. Every year, you and Alfred would spend a night together after the festivities. You could only imagine how upset he’d get if that didn’t happen. He always valued the time together with you, even to the point of being a little excessive. "Mm... I don’t know. Alfred and I usually do something afterward. I’ll ask him."

His wide grin faltered a touch. Alfred this, Alfred that. Mathias couldn’t exactly say he was jealous—though he’d joke about it, a lot—but wasn’t he a little controlling sometimes? "Mm, mm. Not good enough. I won’t take no for an answer!" Scooping you up in a bridal style carry, you let out a small yelp and reached out for his neck to stabilize yourself. "Let the King of Scandinavia save you from the evil clutches of American capitalism!"

"Mathias, you idiot!" You hissed through a flustered expression, but you couldn’t deny you were enjoying yourself. While he laughed away, bouncing you in his arms, you bonked him on the head numerous times. "Put. Me. Down!"

"Ow. Ah! Okay, okay, stop hitting me!" The Dane was as big of a goofball as your boyfriend, but just less serious most of the time. That was right. As your relationship with Alfred progressed, he was less easy-going than he initially seemed. More stubborn. Argumentative. And you never imagined how soon you would see this side of him.

"What’s this about saving (F/N) from the evil clutches of American capitalism?"

The chorus of you and Mathias’s laughter came to an abrupt end. Uh oh. Turning to the voice, you found yourself staring at none other than your boyfriend, dressed in a long orange coat with a Jason Vorhee's mask on the side of his head. And his arms were crossed with an unamused expression. Only then did you feel yourself get set down to the floor. Great. "Alfred, hey! We were just talking about his after-party. You know, the one where they have a lego-building contest?"

"Mhm. Sounds fun. But we’re doing something even better." Reaching out to your hand, he pulled you away from your friend, much to your displeasure. Mathias didn’t look all too happy either. Alfred then managed a small smile, but it was a little strained. "So c’mon, babe. Most of the party’s events are ending, anyway. Let’s go to my car." He squeezed you in his grip and turned to leave, all with you in tow.

But you weren’t having it. Couldn’t he at least let you explain yourself a little better, considering how upset he seemed already? You stopped, the action pulling on his arm so he would too. "Wait, Al. He asked if I wanted to go, and I kinda want to. Just this one time, please? Lukas, Berwald, Tino, and Emil are gonna be there too—" The fact that you were listing all these names only made it blatantly obvious who was in right, and who was in the wrong.

All you were asking for was some time with your friends. But he played the jealous boyfriend role all too well.

He turned to you with a frown. It was annoying enough to see Mathias carrying you like that. But going to a sleepover with him? He couldn’t be any less enthusiastic. "No, (F/N). Halloween is our thing. We’re supposed to spend the night together like we always do." Reaching out to your cheek, he caressed it gently. "You can hang out with them any other day of the year. Just not today."

Unlike other times, you didn’t give in. He already showed up with an attitude, so sweet-talking wasn’t going to cut it. Especially when you felt Mathias’s hand on your shoulder. The thought that he was behind you and trying to calm you down only egged you on to stand your ground. "Any other day? You’d have to exclude Valentine’s Day, Christmas, New Year’s, and St. Patty’s as well. I never get to celebrate them with my friends, either, so can’t you let me go this one time?"

The room fell silent. Even with the Dane’s friends present, nobody spoke a word. And nobody had to because they all shared one thought.

Alfred was being way too controlling.

Almost as if he could read their minds, he felt himself crumble under their scrutiny. "I’m not talking about this here with you." Without another word, he pulled you out of the house against your will.

"And why not? Is it because Mathias is here?" You retorted, feeling bile rise in your throat.

Once you and he disappeared out the door, Lukas made a brief comment.

"... He really has to stop doing that."

“Yep. Man, I wish he’d just step on a lego." The blonde heaved out a sigh.

"Fair enough."

Once Alfred managed to get you outside his car, he turned to you to finally give you an answer. "And what if it is because he’s there, (F/N)?" He exasperated, already feeling his tongue start slipping now that he was alone with you. And his words only held more impact against the deafening silence of the night. "The reason why I don’t want you hanging out with them on special occasions is cuz’ he’s in the group.”

“Why? Do you hate him or something? But that’s got nothing to do with me!" You ripped your hand from his grip to see his eyes widen with shock. This was the first time you ever lashed out, so he could already feel the inklings of regret well in his chest. He should’ve just shut his trap and let you go.

But something told him he would’ve never let that happen.

"They’re my friends, Alfred! You can’t expect me to pass on every invite they give me just because you don’t like someone!"

He dug his hands through his sandy locks of hair stressfully.

"That’s the thing! Mathias obviously doesn’t just wanna be friends with you! He likes you, I can tell!" He yelled.

The cat was finally out of the bag now. What had been plaguing his mind for months was this—competition. And he hoped that admitting it would somehow get you to understand his behavior, no matter how uncalled for it had been.

But you didn’t. You refused to.

Your jaw dropped, but not out of surprise. Instead, it was pure disappointment. "Even if he did, are you saying you don’t trust me with him?" You scoffed, folding your arms at him.

At this point, Alfred knew how bad he fucked up.

"No, that’s not what I—" His brows knitted together, and his cerulean blue eyes welled with moisture. "I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just..." But it was.

Wasn’t it?

Otherwise, why else was he so possessive of you?

"It’s exactly what you meant. If it wasn’t, you’d be defending yourself by now." A small smile curled up at your lips, and it was from anything but mirth. It was your defense mechanism to keep the waterworks at bay, but even that had failed you. The tears finally came spilling over the rim, streaming down your face as he watched on with guilt.

"Even if you hate him, he’s not what you think he is. It wouldn’t matter if he loved me. He wouldn’t do anything because he respects me." Reaching up to your eyes, you rubbed them, but the effort was in vain as you let out a sob. "If you’re so quick to doubt me, then maybe..." You struggled to string together the words as you continued to cry. "Maybe we shouldn’t..."

Maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore.

Alfred froze. Anything but that. And yet, you had all the right in the world to think of ending things. But his heart couldn’t take it.

"No, no, no... Don’t you finish that sentence..." You would probably hate him after this, but kissing you was what he first thought of. The connection between his and your lips managed to silence you, and the close proximity let you feel the waves of heat radiating from his face. And he continued to kiss you, gently, for as long as you let him until you decided to shove him away.

"Don’t." You whispered faintly, albeit firmly. Leaving his side to get into the passenger seat of his car, you buckled yourself up and turned to the window.

He breathed out a sigh, but joined you in the driver’s seat. Facing you with remorse so deep, it made his eyes droop. "You know I love you, right?"

You were still crying, and you never spared him so little as a single glance.

He royally screwed up, for sure.

The engine purred to life. Now, to find a place to stay for the night. Hopefully, he could make up with you before lights out. But his gut told him it wouldn’t be so simple. The car began to move, crushing sticks and leaves under the wheels as he drove on a dirt path deep in the woods. He picked this cabin for the ominous ambiance, but he was beginning to regret his choices. The same could be said for everything he did tonight, hell, the same could be said for how he acted all these months.

He was the jealous, insecure, shitty boyfriend.

And the whole time, he never realized how kind you were to put up with him.

He wanted to tell you he trusted you. To pull you into his arms and apologize a million times. But what could he say to convince you when he’d come off as a liar? Even he didn’t know if he could be honest. Why did Mathias’s presence get him to feel like this, anyway? He boiled it down to how similar he was to him. Like you always said, he and Mathias were two of the same person. Loud, fun, and obnoxious sweethearts. So of course he started comparing himself to him.

And he was doing it right now. He couldn’t imagine Mathias ever having these kinds of problems if he dated you. Fuck. Aside from self-loathing and bitter regret, he was beginning to feel the beginnings of ugly jealousy all over again.

Are you serious right now, Alfred? He thought.

Narrowing his eyes on the road that seemed to disappear, he slowed to a stop. Was it just him losing concentration over these thoughts, or did he really lose his way? Perhaps. But at least he found something. He peered around his windshield to see a few rooftops resembling an old, vintage villa in the distance. Could that possibly be a motel?

He sped up and drove closer and closer until he reached a clearing. Climbing out of his car with you trailing close behind, he made his way to the entrance of the establishment. There was an open lawn in front of the building, and in one of the gardens stood a wooden sign with "The Aura Inn" inscribed into it. Neither of you thought much of it, let alone read the little sub-paragraph of text below it.

"Let’s go." Looking at you over his shoulder, he held out a hand for you to take. You just brushed past him and kept walking. Right. He forgot for a second that you were mad at him.

The only thing that concerned you was having somewhere to stay the night, so the reception was the first stop. Making up with him could come later.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by nothing but an empty room. There was no furniture besides a wooden counter, and even then, it was lacking quite a few amenities. There was no receptionist here either, and yet, the lights were on. That could only mean one thing. Somebody was here, just not in a way you liked. But you were just overthinking, weren’t you? Needless to say, this inn was starting to feel a little off to you.

Gripping the scales of your mermaid dress, you turned to Alfred with a nervous glance. Immediately, he responded with a reassuring smile.

"You okay, babe?"

Hold on. Did he just call you babe? Your mood went sour when you felt yourself nearly give in to him. What he did couldn’t be forgiven so easily, otherwise, how could he take your feelings seriously? So you forced yourself to lie.

"Yes." You murmured. "I’m perfectly fine."

He knew you were lying, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Okay. I’ll just... Get us a room. I think this is an Airbnb." He pulled out his phone.

The thought of sleeping in the same bed as him irked you, to say the least. After the stunt he pulled today, which effectively stopped you from going to Mathias’s after-party, you needed some space. That was right. How come after all these years, you’ve never been to one of his infamous after-parties? Even though you were a close friend of his? It was simple. Because Alfred never let you go. God, thinking about it just made you relive the anger all over again.

So before he finished the booking, you reached out for his arm.

"Wait. I don’t want to be in the same room as you."

He paused, and you saw sadness flash in his eyes. And once again, you found yourself tempted to cave. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

"... Oh. Sure." Alfred finished with the online forms and walked you to your room. The halls were long, winding, and dimly-lit. You would’ve thanked him for accompanying you in this unsettling place, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Once you managed to open the door, which wasn’t locked, he gave you a reluctant goodbye. Resting his arms against the doorframe, he gazed down at you with a bittersweet smile. "Night, babe. I’ll see you in the morning—"

The door slammed in his face and he cringed.

"... Love you too." He murmured, clenching his fists against the door. This was by far the worst argument he’s ever had with you, and it was all his fault.

Pressing your back against the door, you felt blood rush up to your face after hearing what he said. He nearly had you. But you managed to seal yourself away in the safety of your room. It hurt to push him away, but you had to. He couldn’t keep having his way. Alfred needed to accept the consequences of his actions, and you needed to be strong enough for that to happen.

And plus, he needed to get used to not having you around him all the time. But the boy was excessively clingy, and you let this carry on for far too long.

Unpacking your things on the bed, you got your things ready for a shower. As you melted into the hot embrace of the water, your concerns of this inn melted away too. It was just Halloween jitters, wasn’t it? Turning off the faucet, you dried yourself off with a towel before getting dressed. When you exited the bathroom, your room was plunged into almost pitch-black darkness. But you never turned off the lights.

Perhaps this was an energy-saving function.

Well, it saved you from the effort of going to the light switch, anyhow.

Before you moved from your spot, you shuddered at the feeling of a cold draft blowing against your body. Looking over to the source, you were shocked to see that the door was wide open, letting the dim halls stare back at you.

There was probably a little wind tonight, and somehow, you didn’t shut the door properly. Making your way to close it again, you made sure you heard a little click. When you did, you didn’t feel any wind from outside at all, not even a gentle breeze.

Weird.

Setting your things down on the bedside table, you climbed into bed and tucked yourself in. While you made yourself comfortable, you faced the entirety of the room, which had a small wall-mounted TV, rocking chair, and desk. Of course there was a rocking chair. And you somehow couldn’t tear your gaze away from its faint outline in the dark.

Then, it began to rock.

Forwards and backward as if an invisible entity was sitting in it.

“!” Your blood ran cold and you buried your head underneath the blanket. Something was in the room with you. Unlike before, you couldn’t blame it on the wind because you just closed the door. As you came to terms with that reality, the icy hands of fear gripped around your heart. Your breathing grew ragged and uneven. There was something behind you. Someone behind you.

You could practically feel their presence creeping towards you. Closer and closer to your bed as the carpet compressed under its footsteps. Your chest constricted when you felt the bed dip under a weight.

Then, it began to crawl.

But you were too terrified to scream, let alone move.

In that moment, you never regretted your decisions this much in your life. And you never wished more for Alfred to be with you.

Unbeknownst to him as he finished up with his own shower in his room, you were left paralyzed in bed. If he’d known what was happening, he would have run to you as fast as he could. But he didn’t. He only assumed you were busy brooding over him, and maybe even second-guessing your relationship with him. The thought was reasonable, and that upset him to no end. Throwing his towel to a random spot in the room, he fell on his back onto the bed.

Reaching out to the ceiling to stare at his arm, he sighed.

“I’m so sorry...” He murmured, lowering his hands to cover his face with them.

If he was lucky, he’d be able to make up with you by the end of tomorrow. But for now, he was burdened with uncertainty. But his attention was quickly diverted to something else. A laugh. Your laugh. Sitting up with visible confusion, he listened in to the muffled sounds of your voice down the hall.

The walls here were thin, so it didn’t surprise him he could hear you so clearly.

But what did was what he heard next. Another voice talking, and it belonged to a boy. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he registered it as someone he knew. Mathias. Wait a second, what the hell was he doing here? But there was no way he could be, right? Didn’t he have an after-party to be at? The longer he eavesdropped on the conversation, the more obvious it became that it was Mathias. And they were talking about him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come this year. Again. But you know how Alfred gets.”

“Yeah... Don’t worry about it. This can be our own little after-party. Just as long as he doesn’t find out, you’ll be fine!”

Wait, what?

From what he heard, it sounded like you really had moved on. But you never had the decency to tell him, and that was what filled him to the brim with betrayal--it broke his heart. Was this why you wanted to be in a separate room tonight? Sliding himself off the bed, he stormed out the door to find you. His glasses were already fogging up, but he never bothered to clear them as he marched down the empty halls.

Your voices grew louder and louder, all until he came to a stop outside a room he never booked. That was right. He applied for one with a single bed. He could only imagine what you were doing with Mathias in a room with a double bed.

The laughing continued behind the door.

“You know these walls are thin, right?” He began lowly. Swinging open the door, the noises disappeared along with the people inside. The room was completely dark, and when he flicked on the lights, you and Mathias were nowhere in sight. Not a soul was in here.

“... What the fuck.” He grumbled.

He swore he heard you both giggling away like school children. Did you two hear him coming and hide somewhere? He was skeptical, but he checked around nonetheless. In the wardrobe, then under the bed. There was no sign of either of you. The shower, maybe? Stepping into the bathroom and pulling open the curtains, he was prepared to catch you red-handed. But there was nothing there except for a porcelain white tub. A defeated sigh fell from his lips. What the hell was going on? Alfred was completely sober, a miracle considering he usually drank at his parties. So he had a terrible feeling he wasn’t just hearing things. That only pointed towards one explanation.

This inn was totally haunted.

And whoever, or whatever that haunted it was toying with him.

He swallowed thickly and turned to the mirror, only to jump at what he saw. The reflection revealed a figure standing behind him.

It was Mathias, except his face was twisted in a sick smile.

“Holy shit--!” Alfred paled as he stared face to face with the entity. As he lost himself in its soulless, blue eyes, he was overcome with dread, almost as if the spirit was forcing fear into him. Reminding him of his failures, insecurities, and the uncertainty of his relationship. All of his faults flashed in his mind again and again so incessantly, he thought he would break down on the spot.

Where is (F/N)?

She doesn’t want you anymore.

You should just give up.

And the deeper in he spiraled into these self-destructive thoughts, the wider the entity smiled, its lips stretching to impossible lengths it became grotesque. Darting his wide eyes around the reflection in his bout of panic, he saw its hand reach out to his shoulder in the mirror. He didn’t know how he managed to do this, but he spun around quickly to defend himself. And there was nobody there.

In his brief moment of disorientation, the spirit shot out two arms, breaking the barrier of the glass. Tightening its hands around his neck, Alfred was pulled back against the mirror and choked. “Gh--!” His airway was completely constricted by the iron grip, and he was forced to struggle a few inches above the ground.

Digging his fingernails into the hands, he never felt them loosen.

So he did the unthinkable--he started to smash his fist against the mirror. It hurt like hell and left his knuckles bruised and raw, but the thought of you in danger kept him going. That was right. There was no saying if you weren’t being choked, attacked, or worst. Punching the glass again and again, it finally shattered, and the grip around his neck loosened.

The mirror was reduced to shards and fell into the sink.

Falling to the ground in a loud thump, he stood up while coughing violently.

The arms disappeared, and so did the entity.

And Alfred had a feeling it had to do with the mirror it was in.

Leaving the bathroom with heavy breaths, he ran back to his room and picked up his chainsaw. Halloween had the perks of carrying around dangerous tools, and he was never this glad that he took it with him instead of leaving it in his car unattended. Too bad he was out of costume, though. But a white tank and boxers would do. Holding it above his chest, he revved his chainsaw and ran out the door.

It was time to fuck shit up.

You were still stuck in bed, but the spirit managed to remove your blanket. A soft whimper fell from your lips as your only form of protection was stripped away. If you thought you were terrified, then you would prove yourself wrong with a whole new level of fear as two arms wrapped around your neck from behind. No way. Was it going to choke you? One of its legs was thrown over yours, so you were completely enveloped by its limbs.

As you trembled away in the dark, you let out a soft cry when you felt its warm breath tickle your ear.

“I missed you. Why didn’t you wanna stay in a room with me?” It cooed, the voice sending shivers down your spine. It sounded strangely similar to Alfred’s, and what he said was exactly what he would’ve said too, except it wasn’t him. You never saw him come in, and the last time you checked, he wasn’t invisible.

“... W-What... What are you?” You stammered, feeling a hand glide down your bare thigh. “Stop--”

“I’m his desire, sweetheart.” It began in a low and alluring voice. “Every feeling in the Aura inn festers into a semi-physical form. That’s why I’m here right now. Because he wants you.”

You screwed your eyes shut. Just what the hell kind of place was this inn? A magical hut that personified emotions? “... Can you please let me go? I don’t like the way how you’re... Hugging me.” You pleaded, only to feel the entity tighten itself around you.

“But I don’t want to. He doesn’t want to.” It responded with a hum. “I reflect everything he wants. And currently, he wants to see you more than anything. Especially when he’s dealing with jealousy... And having a hard time at that.”

“Jealousy?” It wasn’t shocking, per se, but he had you curious. If desire festered into a sultry form of someone and hugged their object of affections, what did jealousy turn into? “... I knew he was jealous of Mathias. But that’s not the problem here. We’ll sort it out later. If you’re desire, then what’s jealousy like?”

It let out a deep, foreboding laugh. “Depends. If it’s only a little bit of envy, he’ll start hearing things that hit his nerves. Nothing but... Harmless fun.” You felt yourself get rolled onto your back, and you were caught off guard by what loomed over you. It was Alfred himself, or more accurately put, his personified desire, but this time, you could see him. “But if his jealousy gets mixed in with insecurity, that’s when things get pretty ugly...”

You furrowed your brows with concern. “Ugly? How so? Is he gonna be okay?”

It craned his head from side to side. “Who knows.”

“But I’ll tell you a few things that I do know. Jealousy tends to be pretty sneaky. It’ll snoop around in mirrors and attack him.” You tensed up all over. “So Alfred will have to smash every mirror in the inn to get it to come out. And when it does, all he needs to do is be with you to send it away.”

Loud chainsaw noises were heard down the halls, silencing both you and the entity. Following that was the shattering of glass.

“... Hm. Looks like he already figured it out.”

Joy filled you to the brim and you smiled wide. “He really did! I’m so glad!” Reaching out to hug the entity around its chest, you pulled away and slid yourself off the bed.

“Thank you, um, Alfred’s desire! I’m gonna go find him now!”

He laid on his side and watched you run off. “You can just call me Alfred.”

“Okay, Alfred!”

While you exited the room to stand in the halls, you found yourself staring at a number of doors that were wide open, and the lights on inside. You assumed those were the rooms he already cleared, which meant he still had quite a bit to do. But he was fast. Appearing out of one room, he continued tearing down door after door to smash every single mirror and window in the inn. And soon, he managed to reduce every piece of glass present into shards.

Once the chainsaw revs came to a stop, you called out his name.

“Alfred!”

He jerked up at the sound, then glanced around. “(F/N)!?” While he was on the first floor in the courtyard, you were on the second in the mezzanine, so he had to glance up to see you. “Oh God, I was so worried! Are you okay?” He shouted.

“Yes!” You called back. “This place is... Super haunted. Let’s get out of here!”

“You called it. I nearly got murdered!”

Running down the stairs to meet with him, you practically jumped onto him after he dropped his chainsaw to the ground. Embracing you with his strong arms, he pressed kiss after kiss all over your face. While he did, you spotted another figure standing by the stairs. Was that Mathias? You couldn’t take a better look at him before he disappeared into thin air. “Oh my fucking god. I missed you so much.” He exasperated, setting you down on your feet. “You won’t believe what happened. I’ll explain everything in the car.”

As he led you out of the Godforsaken inn, he gripped you tight with his hand. And you squeezed right back. “Let me guess. You were attacked by something in the mirror so you shattered every single one here. I know.”

At this point, you and him had arrived outside his car.

Turning to you with shock, he placed his hands on his hips.

“And how the hell did you know? I thought it was original enough that you wouldn’t be able to guess!” He exclaimed, much to your amusement.

“Mm... Not really. With how many horror movies you’ve watched, I wouldn’t put it past you to come up with a solution like that.” Giving him an affectionate pinch on the cheek, he rubbed the spot with a light pout. You considered telling him the truth, but you already wanted to forget tonight. If he didn’t know about it, then moving on yourself would be so much easier.

“Now, I think you have some apologizing to do.”

He softened his gaze. “Yeah... I really do. Sorry for everything. Sorry for being a dick. And not just... For today.” Pulling you into another hug, he nestled his chin into your shoulder. God, did it feel good to have you in his arms again. “I’m gonna be real. I never hated Mathias. He’s my friend. But seeing him with you gets me... Really jealous. And it’s not cuz’ I don’t trust you, it’s because I’m...” His cheeks grew rosy. “I don’t know. I just feel...”

You knew he’d get stuck at this part, so you helped him.

“Because you feel insecure?”

“... Yeah.”

“You idiot...” A soft, content sigh was heard from your end. “It doesn’t matter how similar you are to him. You don’t have to try to make any changes or keep him away from me for me to choose you.”

His heart fluttered as he released you with a sheepish smile.

“I really needed to hear that. So, thanks.” Alfred murmured, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Kinda lame of me to put you through that. I should’ve just talked it out with you.”

“Yeah, you dumbass.” You grumbled, but it was on an affectionate note.

“So, do you think we’ll make it in time to the party for me to carpool with Mathias back to his place? I wanna see what they’re building this year!”

He frowned, but his expression was short-lived as a smile began creeping onto his lips. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m kidding!”

🎶 Tell me, are you the ghost of jealousy?

This is a request. Thank you for requesting.

#parry this you fucking casual #hetalia #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia x reader #america x reader #aph america x reader #APH America #axis powers hetalia #Axis powers ヘタリア #supernatural #ghosts #spooky #halloween #request #oneshot #ask answered #reader insert #alfred f jones

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

Text

[Mutuals]

Some more self-indulgent writing! Mainly because of a post @zestyzealot reblogged a while back and inspired this piece.

(This is the post I’m referring to!)

Enjoy!

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P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @polyvirnl

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Context: There’s no miraculouses. None. Nada. But the Bats still exist. Marinette uses her time to expand her brand MDC

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AO3

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Marinette huffed as she placed the last crystal bead onto the hem of the black skirt in her hands.

Bringing it to eye level, a wide smile graced her lips, a smile breaking as Marinette giggled to herself as she watched her vision become reality.

Finally! After four long and exhausting days, it was done. When she started on Monday night, Marinette wondered if this project would get in the way of her weekly sleepover with Alya. Thank God it didn’t.

Placing the skirt on her bed, Marinette smiled as she took a picture of her latest piece for her new collection: 12 o’ clock.

That’s when the hatch on her floor opened up with a creak, Marinette watching as her father poked his head into her room. Why was he here?

“Marinette, there’s someone here looking for you.” He said, giving a side glance down below. “Please tell me he’s just a school friend and not another boy you asked to model for you.”

“Dad, I already told you, Luka is Juleka’s older brother, he- wait, he? It’s not Alya?” Marinette asked, wondering where her best friend was at.

Yes, Alya gave her a heads up that she was running late for their sleepover, but she wasn’t downstairs yet? And her father had said ‘he’ instead of a guy friend’s name, so… who exactly was waiting for her downstairs?

Because despite only saying the name once, her father tended to commit to memory the names of all of her male friends. “What does he look like?”

“Well, he’s a bit on the short side,” Tom started, “has green eyes, tanned, wearing a turtleneck with some of those suit pants-”

“Slacks.” Marinette helped.

“Those,” Tom corrected himself, “and he has a dog with him.” Tom ended, watching as Marinette mumbled to herself.

Marinette didn’t know anyone with a dog, nonetheless with that type of fashion, causing Marinette to start pacing around her room, racking up some idea as to who it was that was in the living room. “He called the dog Titus, if memory serves me correctly. Or if I heard correctly for that matter.”

That caused Mari to stop in her tracks.

A turtleneck with slacks, a Great Dane named Titus, tanned skin...emerald eyes.

“No. Way.” Marinette quickly motioned her father to go down the ladder, quickly following him into the living room, her eyes widening upon seeing her theory be true.

There, standing inside the Dupain-Cheng living room was Damian Wayne with his dog, Titus.

“Took you long enough.” Damian said, adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder. Titus wagged his tail as he saw his boy open the bag and give him his toy.

Just then, the door swung open, Alya panting as she dropped to the floor as soon as she walked in.

“Girl, you wouldn’t believe who I just saw! There, as soon as I turned the corner of where I lived, I saw the Damian Wayne with his dog, and- why is he in your living room?”

“Seeing as you finally caught up,” Damian said, walking over to Alya, handing her a heavy plastic bag. “Take care of Titus while we’re out.”

“We?” “We?” “We?!” Alya, Tom and Marinette spoke at the same time, although Marinette’s came out as a squeak.

“Did you forget what you told me?” Damian waved his phone that was in his hand. Marinette watched as he showed her a tweet...her tweet in particular, Marinette now going into a state of panic. “You invited me to egg-” Marinette screamed, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she lowered his phone and dragged him out the apartment, leaving behind a confused Tom and a giddy Alya.

———

“You actually read that?” Marinette asked once more, covering her cheeks as they walked towards the park square.

“I did.” Damian hummed as he adjusted the egg cartoons under his arm, a dangerous twinkle in his emerald eyes.

Marinette let out a silent screech, confusing Damian. “Did you think I wouldn’t read it?” When he saw her nod, he sighed. “I read every comment left under any post I write. Sure, I don’t respond to any of them, but your comment… seemed… interesting.”

Marinette wanted to disappear into a black hole. Damian actually read that stupid comment she had left under his post.

It was a post from earlier that week - a picture Damian had uploaded from the recent animal shelter he was volunteering at (as well as funding).

Another post about an animal up for adoption, this time, a hamster named Louis.

Marinette was scrolling through the comments under the post after retweeting it, when a particular one caught her attention.

<3 ACNH is Life <3 @eliza_beth

Replying to @Real_BloodSon I have a pet chicken and just wanted to ask if the candle method is a good method to check for egg development. If so, then are they safe to eat? If not, what’s a better method?

Everyone knew Damian loved to offer help when it came to animals -as it was no secret- but something stupid inside of Marinette thought she should do the only logical thing in her mind.

She commented on it.

Deadlines Are Approaching @a_mari_not_bug

Replying to @eliza_beth and @Real_BloodSon If it turns out that it is a good method, can I have some eggs? I’ve been wanting to egg someone's house as of late. @Real_BloodSon care to join?

Marinette didn’t think he would actually read it, let alone actually come. Wait…

Damian lives in the US, not France, unlike her.

So how did he know where she lived, let alone reside?

“How did you know where I live?” Marinette asked, realizing they were finally at the park, right across from the targeted house, not even realizing that she had brought him over to the house in question.

Damian blinked, setting the cartons down onto the bench.

“Tsurugi told me.”

“You know Tsurugi. As in Kagami Tsurugi?” Marinette asked, wondering where he had met her friend.

Damian nodded.

“We met during the semifinals for the international fencing competition.”

Oh. So that’s how they knew each other.

Damian let a smirk grace his lips. “Obviously, I won.”

Marinette simply looked at him in awe, causing Damian’s ego to soar more. Of course, that didn’t overcome the other feeling he had inside his chest.

After all, there was no way he was going to tell her that he has been following her account for quite a while.

So using the amounts of aesthetic pictures, selfies, bakery promos and mini photo shoots, it didn’t take long for Damian to pinpoint where she lived.

That’s not following Damian. It’s called stalking.

Okay Drake, but in his defense:

1- it was his side account that he uses for his own personal interests.

Damian didn’t exactly like having thousands of people following him because he was a Wayne. He wanted to be followed for being Damian.

2- he had been following her for quite a while.

Two solid years to be exact.

After exchanging social media accounts with Kagami, Marinette was one of the few people Twitter recommended to follow.

Marinette peaked his curiosity when Kagami mentioned Marinette being the person behind her “lucky” fencing bag. (Although, she didn’t want to admit that she used it as a luck charm.) It was an all black duffel bag, enchanting golden embroidery that collected to a single dragon.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Kagami had provided. A girl in her grade from her school in France, who designed the most intricate designs Damian had seen. (Yes, he has seen all of her sketches and final products of the things she had designed…yes it did involve scrolling through her photos and accidentally liking all of them as he went…)

3- it was too late to press that “follow” button when he already kinda didn’t do it as soon as she followed his own account.

When he finally noticed that she did already follow him, he didn’t know what to do. Should he follow her back?

“Not yet.” Dick had told him. But just how long did he have to wait? He was stupid for listening to Dick’s advice and he definitely wasn’t going to follow her back now. Or should he?

“So,” Marinette started again, looking around the area, scanning to see that no one saw them. “Have you ever done this before?”

“As in egging a house?” Damian watched as Marinette nodded, wondering if this was her first time doing this. “No, but it shouldn’t be any different than throwing snowballs.” Damian compared, remembering last year’s winter.

Jon had managed to convince the Wayne’s and the Kent’s to do a snowball fight.

The Wayne’s obviously won.

“Guess you have a point.” Marinette replied, attempting to vision Damian’s analogy. She picked up an egg and looked at it and then at the window of the person who had been causing her turmoil these past few days. “Are you… are you sure you want to go with this?”

“Aren’t you?” Damian asked, awaiting Marinette’s signal. He had perfectly balanced a dozen eggs into the nook of his arm, one being juggled in his other hand.

He was ready and from the twinkle in his eyes, eager to throw.

Marinette found herself smiling, letting out a laugh as she grabbed a few eggs herself and balanced them in her hand.

“Between you and I, I've been dreaming of doing this for the longest.” Marinette said with the biggest grin Damian had seen her with that night. “Ready?”

“Always.” Damian replied, mirroring her grin as the two looked at the target, Marinette throwing the first attack.

Bonus:

Marinette hummed as she doodled in her sketchbook, her mind wandering to last night’s events.

She hadn’t known how much stress she had built up thanks to Lila and her constant need to be the attention of everything.

The messes Marinette had to clean up due to Lila causing disorder during class and after class, all because of Lila and her gazillion and one ‘medical’ problems.

Marinette didn’t realize how emerged she was towards throwing eggs -with great accuracy- towards Lila’s bedroom window until she threw her last egg.

She remembered how satisfying it was to have thrown all of those eggs at the window, that glee when Damian smiled at her.

How happy she was when Damian complimented her for her graceful and precise throws despite the low lightning of the park lights.

Marinette placed her pencil down as she finished adding some last minute touches to the coat she had finished designing when Alya slammed her hands in front of her. Marinette quickly looked up at her friend, tilting her head when she was met with twinkling eyes.

“Did you hear what happened to Lila last night?” Alya whispered, causing Marinette to quickly tense.

“N-no? What happened?” Marinette asked, closing her sketchbook.

“Her house got egged. Well, her bedroom window did.” Alya corrected herself, watching as Marinette let out a gasp.

“No way! Poor Lila.” Marinette looked over to Lila, watching as she was surrounded by their classmates to gather to listen to her woeful story. “Who would ever do such a thing?”

“Beats me.” Alya said, looking at Marinette, a faint smile on her lips. “You and Damian wouldn’t happen to have been involved-”

“Us?” Marinette instigated, causing Alya to lean forward. “You think Damian and I would do something that stupid and not think of the consequences that awaited us? No way.” Marinette denied, causing Alya to sigh.

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t be up to it. Only you would step down after overthinking about the consequences.” Alya said as she patted her head before taking a few steps from Marinette. “Not like anyone would know who it was since the security cameras of the area seemed to have gone off at that time, strangely enough. Maybe if I hear what Lila has to say about the event, I’ll get some hints as to who it was.”

With that, Alya left to go and listen to Lila, leaving Marinette by herself.

Finally alone, Marinette let out a sigh, feeling her back relax. She felt as a smile rose to her face.

Giddily, she took out her phone to send Damian a text when a Twitter notification caught her attention.

She quickly checked it, her smile growing even more. She went back to sending Damian a text.

You bugged the cameras last night?

Damian: A necessary precaution.

Marinette giggled at his response.

Also, I saw you started following me. Now we’re mutuals!

Damian liked your message.

Damian: It was only a matter of time, seeing as we egged your enemy’s home.

More like someone I dislike.

Damian: Same thing.

Damian: Query. Would you like to join Titus and I for a walk at the park?

Sure! Class ends at 3. Meet you then?

Damian: Titus and I would await you then.

Marinette grinned as she placed her phone away as the school bell rang, signaling the beginning of class.

She couldn’t wait to spend time with her newfound friend! Who knows what mischief awaited the two!

#maribat #bff daminette #daminette #anju writes

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morosemagick · 3 years

Text

On Your Lips, Like a Prayer | Sihtric x Reader One Shot

Warning: References to Suicide, Minor Character Death

Words: 4449

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @obipoelover @thebohemianpenguin @ivarinleatherpants

You remember falling.

Through the sky. Into a river. Drowning. They could’ve been dreams or your imagination or may you’re hell because when you wake up you don’t recognize the place you’ve found yourself in. The first thing you try to do when you wake is reach for your phone... until you remember you didn’t have it. What you had done, you had done with nothing on you. You didn’t want to be found or recognized. The plan was to scrub yourself from the pages of history. Yet from what you are told by the man and his daughter; who found you in the river half dead, it seems you did the far opposite.

Instead of erasing yourself from history, you’ve fallen through it.

And that was six months ago.

They believe you to have amnesia from the accident, but you remember every detail of what happened. It’s the ninth century from what you gathered. From what you remember from taking history in school, King Alfred the Great is the King of Wessex, but you are in Mercia. Who is ruled by Lord Ceowolf? You’re unsure. Everything you’ve known is gone or rather has yet to be. You have no idea how you’ve gotten here and you want out. So in a moment of foolishness, you try to redo what you did to send yourself back but instead you wind up stuck in their beds again for a month with a broken leg. It’s hard to run after you do that, and now you know without a doubt in your mind that you’re stuck. You cry about it for weeks, and the family who found you doesn’t understand why. You can’t tell anyone, because you’re certain they’ll set you on fire if you tell them.

Because you… you are from the future.

————————————<3—————————————

You’ve been here for a year now. Osmund and his daughter, Mildryd, are kind and loving people. They treat you like family, with love and respect. This place becomes your home and they teach you all the skills you’d need to survive these times. You learned about farming, rank etiquette, and all other manners you would need to blend into your surroundings. Soon enough, you embraced this world as your own. Not that you had a choice because every day it became more clear that this was not a dream and you were indeed stuck here.

Also, you had no desire to repeat what you did to get here in the first place… again.

“Lynne? Lynne, where are you?” You can hear Osmund call out to you. Lynne was what they called you here. It meant waterfall, from what you understood.

Which made sense, because that’s where they found you... At the bottom of a waterfall.

You come out from the stables, where you’ve just finished brushing the horses with a smile on your face, “Right here, Osmund. Everything alright?”

“I sent Mildryd into town to get grain but I didn’t realize she didn’t bring water in for the goats,” He tells you as he wipes the sweat from his face with a rag, “I hate to pass on her chores, but you know my daughter-”

“She’ll be flirting with the trader for a while,” You chuckle. Mildryd fancied the boy a lot and hopes he’d ask her father for her hand in marriage soon. She was young and full of life, the opposite of you if you were honest with yourself. You envied her spirit, “I’ll go to the river.”

“Thank you, Lynne,” The older man smiled, “You’re an angel.”

You only smile as a response. They show you so much love and part of you feels like you don't deserve it. Still, you grab your bucks and head down to the river, which is quite a walk away, to fetch some water as requested. It's beautiful here, and perhaps taking a moment to stand there and admire its beauty will be one of the moments you will grow to regret for the rest of your life because by the time you turn back to return to the farm you can see smoke.

You drop both buckets to the ground and run as fast as your post-broken leg body can take you, but you're too late.

A sob breaks from your lips as you walk through the ruins of Osmund's home. His body lays blood and lifeless on the floor, the sword he carries still in its sheath. You take the weapon from him, belt and all, and tie it around your waist. Leaving the house, you head into the rest of the small village you call yours in search of the man's daughter.

The rest of the village is no better than Osmund's home. Everyone is dead, from what you can tell, and your expectations for finding Mildryd are lowering by the second.

When you find her, she's holding on to her final breath, and her body covered by the trader she loved so much.

"Mildryd," You call to her with tears in her eyes, "Mildryd… who did this to you?"

"It… it was the Danes," She coughs and blood comes up, tears flowing down her cheeks, "Is.. my father-"

She dies before she can finish the sentence, and you sob over her dead body.

The time you get to mourn is cut short by a voice calling out from behind you, “Lord! A survivor!”

From the accent in his voice, you can tell he must be a Dane, and you ready yourself to face with your hand on the hilt of your sword. It’s heavy, and you haven’t had much practice but the one thing you have plenty of right now is rage. Rising to your feet, you pull out your sword and swing it without care as you turn around but the Dane behind you is quicker. He bobs and weaves his upper half to avoid your aimless swings and pulls out a blade of his own.

It does not take him long to disarm you, your sword dropping to the ground with a clang.

“Just kill me already,” You tell him as you lower your eyes to the ground, trying not to cry in front of him, “Please! Get on with it-”

“I don’t desire to kill you, Lady,” The Dane tells you, his voice softer than anticipated, and you open your eyes to see him put his sword away. He picks up your sword, and then lends out a hand to help you to your feet, “I am sorry to have startled you.”

You are hesitant to take his hand, but you do so anyway.

It’s his eyes; one blue and the other brown, they are mesmerizing and all but command you to trust him.

“Sihtric?” Another man calls out to him, this one also dressed like a Dane but something about him looks Saxon… like the others you’ve grown to know, “Who is this?”

The one you trust, Sihtric, turns to face you and they stare for a moment as they await your name, “I am-” You almost use your real name, but you stop yourself and continue again. Hoping they don’t notice, “I am Lynne, Lord.”

“This is your village?” He asks you.

“Was,” You replied looking back at Mildryd’s dead body behind you, “They killed my family…”

“Did you see the raiders who attacked this place?” The man asked and you shook your head no.

“My… my sister, she told me it was the Danes,” You glance between the two men, watching for their reactions, “That was all she said before she died.”

“Lord?” Another voice calls out, this one with an Irish accent, and from the side, another man appears followed by one much taller than he is, “There is no one else. If they had survivors, they must have taken them.”

The Lord sighs, and puts away his weapon, “Do you have somewhere to go, Lynne? Family somewhere else in Mercia, perhaps?”

You look between the men who surround you and shake your head no, “This was my only family, Lord. I have no one.”

“We can take her with us to Coccham, Uhtred,” The Irishman starts to say, but you are quick to jump in.

“I am not a slave!” You snap as you reach for your sword, forgetting you no longer have it.

“Nor do we wish you to be, Lady,” The one named Uhtred replies, “You will be safe in Coccham, should you choose to follow us. I am the Ealdorman there, we shall find someone to take you in.”

You nod okay, knowing you don’t have any other choice, “Thank you.”

Uhtred and his men start to walk away, and when you step to follow them your bad leg gives in and you start to fall. Luckily, Sihtric is there to catch you.

“Are you hurt, Lady?” He asks you as you wince.

He helps you straighten yourself upright, and you take a deep breath, “I broke it, six months ago,” You explain to Sihtric as he tries to help you walk, “It still feels weak some days. Just… give me a moment.”

“Should I carry you?” He asks and you blush as you furiously shake your head no.

“No, no,” You chuckle shyly as you attempt to walk again, “I can walk. I just need to go slow.”

Sihtric smiles lightly, and it brings you peace, “We’ll go your speed then.”

You nod okay, and together you walk slowly out of the village that was once your home.

————————————<3—————————————

Lord Uhtred finds you work as a stable hand in Coccham. The owners of the stable is an older couple whose children have moved away with their own families, and they are more than pleased to let you stay with them. After a few months of being in Coccham, you find yourself growing to like the place. It’s a booming town, and the people who live here all seem to be grateful for their half Dane half Saxon Lord for keeping them safe and prospering. About six months into living here, Lord Uhtred puts you personally in charge of his horse, as well as the horses of the rest of his men. The old couple tells you it’s a privilege for the Ealdorman to hold you in such regard.

You wonder why they seem to like you so much.

When you aren’t working you find yourself in the company of Lord Uthred’s men. There is Finan, his cheeky, Irish right-hand man. He’s a flirt and a tease, but you find him harmless and kind. Then their Clapa, the large bear-like Dane. He’s quiet but courteous. Last, but certainly not least, there is Sihtric. You never expected to like him as much as you do, but he makes you laugh and smile and feel like maybe you survived that fall for a reason. He visits you frequently at the stables and he tells you it’s to make sure you aren’t overworking your leg.

Part of you wonders if there is an ulterior motive for his visits.

Not that he needs one to visit you. You enjoy Sihtric’s visits probably much more than he did. So part of you finds it ironic when those around you weren’t fond of you spending so much time with a Dane. Their Lord was a Dane, too, after all.

“That Dane boy,” The stable owner, Cedric, started to say one day, “Does he bother you?”

You glance his way as you brush Lord Uhtred’s horse, readying all his warriors’ horses for their departure, “Not at all,” You tell Cedric, “Sihtric is kind.”

“You are of marriage age, Lynne,” Cedric tells you as he brings over a saddle for the horse, “Perhaps we should help find you a husband. I know some young eligible men. Hard workers,” he starts to say, and you know what’s about to come out of his mouth next before he can even say it, “Good Christians.”

“I’m not looking for a husband,” You tell him with frustration as you take the saddle from his hands and place it on top of Uhtred’s horse.

“My wife and I are only getting older, Lynne,” The old man tells you, and you keep your eyes away to prevent yourself from making a face, “It is not good for a Lady of your age to be unwed. This is your prime. You should be having children, starting a family.”

Part of you is ready to tell the old man off, but before you can say anything a familiar voice interrupts the conversation, “Cedric, Lynne! How are our horses?”

“Lord Uhtred,” Cedric smiles, and you can’t help but hate how hypocritical he is, “They are almost ready, Lynne ready the other saddles please.”

You nod at the two men and make yourself scarce as you go to prep the other horse. Your first stop is to Finan’s horse; because you know the mare can be fickle some days, and as you reach down to pick her saddle, you don’t see Finan and Sihtric sneak up behind you.

“Lynne!” Finan all but shouts, giving you a fright and making you drop the saddle to the floor.

“I swear to God, Finan, one would think you are the heathen and not Sihtric,” You scold with your hand over your heart as the two men laugh.

“We are only teasing, Lynne, I swear,” Finan tells you as he picks up the saddle you’ve dropped.

Sihtric leans up against a post and nudges you with his elbow, “Cedric does not push you too much, does he?”

“No, he does not,” You tell Sihtric as you go to ready his horse, but he stops you, carefully taking the saddle from your hands, “I do not need your help, Sihtric.”

“I want to help,” He tells you with a smile, and you can’t help but smile wider.

“She says she doesn’t need your help, Sihtric,” Finan teases from close by, and you both blush, momentarily forgetting he was there, “Hate to ruin the moment, but we need to get goin’.”

“Where are you riding for?” You ask them as you stand back and let the men finish readying their own horses.

“Mercia,” Sihtric tells you and a small part of you feels anxious, “Dane’s have taken Lundene."

“And King Alfred has decided he does need Uhtred, after all,” Finan chuckles and Sihtric smirks, but both of their calm demeanors don’t make you feel any better, “Don’t you worry, Lynne, we’ll be home before you know it.”

Finan passes by, rubbing your shoulder as he goes, and then leaves you alone with Sihtric. You sigh, folding your arms over your chest, “Be careful out there, okay?”

Sihtric chuckles as he takes a step closer to you, “Will you pray to your God for my return?”

“You know I don’t pray,” You lie with a smirk. You pray every single time Uhtred and his warriors leave, and you do so every night till they return. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a thin gold cross on a blue, beaded string. It’s the only thing you own, from before, and you hand it to Sihtric with a weak smile on your face, “But just in case.”

He takes it from your hand so slow, the feeling of his fingertips lingering even after they are gone, “I will take good care of it.” Sihtric pulls you closer by the back of your head and kisses your temple as he moves around you.

Your cheeks stay a rosy color even long after he is gone.

————————————<3—————————————

They are back sooner than expected.

Or at least, that is what you hear when the crowd gathers to greet their returning warriors. You overhear the Lady of Coccham, Uhtred’s wife Gisela, make mention of returning too quickly for men holding a city under siege. Lord Uhtred is the first to walk through Coccham’s gates, looking surprisingly clean for a man coming from war, then Finan comes in close behind him… and then-

Wait.

You feel your heart pick up its pace when you realize Sihtric is not with them and for a moment you find it hard to breathe. As the crowd lets its lord through, and Uhtred and his men reach the stables, you rush over as fast as your legs can take you to meet them. You feel your bad leg ready to give up as you reach the stables, but this time Finan is there to catch you.

“Slow down, Lynne, you nearly killed yourself,” Finan tells you as he holds you steady with one hand.

“Where...,” You start speaking but you can't, instead you’re huffing and puffing trying to catch your breath, “Where is Sihtric?”

Finan sighs, wiping at his mouth with his free hand, “You’re not gonna be happy, Lynne.”

You try really hard not to cry as he explains to you what has happened at Lundene and how the King’s daughter has been possibly taken as prisoner. In fact, you do relatively well at holding it all in and keeping yourself together for most of his explanation. That is… until he gets to the part where Lord Uhtred has sent Sihtric and another warrior named Rypere to Beamfleot to spy, and you suddenly forget how to breathe again. You go to reach for your cross in your pocket until you remember you’ve given it to Sihtric for good luck and almost immediately you begin to cry.

“Lynne,” Finan puts his hand on your shoulder as you sob, covering your face with your hands, “Lynne, he’s coming home… okay? Sihtric is good at what he does. The best spy we have, and I know he’s got a good reason to come home in one piece.”

You shake your head okay, and furiously wipe away all your tears away the best you can, “How long do you think he’ll be gone?”

“I cannot say for certain,” Finan shrugs, “But he is coming home, I promise.”

Finan’s words only give you some reassurance and you spend the next few days feeling absolutely miserable. You continue on with your workdays with the best fake smile you can muster, and at night you find yourself at Church. Usually, you pray in your room, partially because you feel like you aren’t really doing it right and you feel too embarrassed to pray in public. You weren’t a very religious person before, but now that you are here in this church, you pray to every God you can think of that Sihtric comes home safely.

“Lady?” A voice from behind you calls, and you jump to your feet in a moment of fear. You weren’t expecting anyone else to come to the Church that night, coming late enough in the night to certainly be alone for as long as you wish, “I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you.”

His words remind you of the first time you met Sihtric, and you can't help but smile.

“It’s okay, I’ve just been… jumpy, lately.” You tell him as you sit back down on the bench, “I haven’t lived in Coccham for long, but I know I don’t recognize your face.”

“Ah, yes,” His smile is kind as he joins you at the bench, “I am Osferth, Lady. May I join you?”

“Of course, Osferth,” You smile back the best you can, but you’re tired and it’s late so it’s hard to put on your usual fake face.

Osferth takes his seat next to you, making sure not to get too close, and keeps his eyes on the altar ahead of you, “What are we praying for?” He asks, glancing your way.

“My-” You paused, not knowing what to call him. Your friend didn’t sound like a good enough way to explain what he meant to you, and you definitely didn’t think of him as a brother. So you go with this, “My family. Someone very important to me has been sent away on a dangerous mission for Lord Uhtred.”

"If he is a warrior for Lord Uhtred, he must be very brave," he tells you, reassuringly

"Only a special kind of warrior is lucky enough to serve a Lord like Uhtred," You agree with him, "And I have been told Sihtric is good at what he does, but I can't help but worry."

"Has prayer helped?" Osferth asks you and you look his way with a chuckle.

"Not at all," You tell him, and you both laugh.

"Sometimes it is hard to have faith in something we don't see," Osferth tells you as he looks forward again, "I try to put my faith in people. Lord Uhtred is a good warrior. So are his men. Having Faith in them… it's much easier."

So that's what you. You put your Faith in Uhtred and all of his men that will do whatever it takes to bring each other home.

————————————<3—————————————

More time has passed.

Rypere eventually returned to Coccham, and with his arrival, Uhtred and his men rode for Winchester to bring his findings to the King. You hear that men are sent to Beamfleot to bargain for the Princesses return. They are gone for a long time, longer than you anticipated. The days that pass make you increasingly more anxious.

You don't want to say your faith in Uhtred and his warriors is wavering but… it hasn't been as strong as you hoped it to be.

Cedric and his wife have been pushing the marriage thing. They aren't your parents so they can't just sell you off, luckily for you, but it's gotten annoying just how many single men they've tried to introduce you to in the last month.

None of them are Sihtric, so you do not care.

You're in the Church again one night, and you've been there longer than you wanted due to your bad leg. It's been aching something fierce in the past few days, and you think maybe you have been overwhelming yourself. You can't help but smile at the idea of Sihtric yelling at you to take it easy, and just as quickly as the memory comes to you so do the tears that start to cloud your eyes.

"You lied to me, Lynne," That familiar voice you've been hearing in your head speaks out loud, and you gasp when you turn around to find Sihtric standing behind you, "You said you do not pray for me."

You chuckle as the tears fall from your face and your lips curl up into a smile, "You're all I pray for." It stings to stand, but you push through the pain anyway and rush to greet him.

Sihtric catches you as you jump into his arms, and the two of you stumble back until he falls to the floor with you in his arms, "You need to be more careful," He smirks as he moves a hand to your cheek, "What would the people say if they see us in the church like this?"

"To hell with people," You laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Sihtrics' free hand pulls your body closer as you sit there on the floor of the church, all but devouring each other with each kiss.

"Let me carry you home," Sihtric tells you when he breaks the kiss, and you nod okay. He moves to stand, taking you in his arms as he rises. Making sure to be careful with your bed leg.

Being like this makes you feel so safe. So loved.

You giggle and kiss his neck as he carries you back to his house, and whispers things in your ear that send shivers down your spine all the way back to his house. Your sure people saw him carry you, and they are more than likely to gossip about you but you don't care.

You've never felt more alive than you do right now.

Sihtric lays you carefully in his bed, his lips reconnecting with yours as he hovers above you. He tastes sweet and your heart is racing in anticipation of what is going to happen next.

That is until you hear him moan out that name.

"Lynne," He starts to say as he breaks the kiss, "Lynne, I-"

"Wait!" You cut Sihtric off with a finger to his lips, "Before you say it, there is something else I've been lying about," Sihtric raises a brow and you take a deep breath, "My name is not Lynne."

You expect a poor reaction, but instead, Sihtric smirks, "That doesn't surprise me."

"Really?"

"Yes," He tells you as he places a kiss on your lips, "The day we met, you stuttered when you told Uhtred your name." You chuckle at the fact that he remembers that, and his smile is soft, "So tell me, what is the real name of the woman who has stolen my heart?"

Your smile is wide when you get to finally speak your real name out loud for the first time in almost two years, "My name is Y/N."

Sihtric smiles, leaning in to kiss you again, "Well, Y/N," another kiss, and then another, "It is nice to truly meet you," one more kiss, and then he leans up a bit and you can see the smirk on his face, "Is it too soon to say that I love you?"

You shake your head no as the tears come back to you, "Not at all."

"Good," Sihtric replies as he leans his forehead against yours, "I love you, Y/N."

Sihtric whispers those words for what feels like a hundred times that night. He whispers it as he strips you out of your clothes and as you remove his. It comes out as a moan when he slips himself inside of you, and it sounds like a prayer on his lips as he chants it in your ear as you reach your climax with your back arched and his lips on your neck. And it's the last thing you hear when Sihtric reminds you one more time before bed.

A few months later on the two year anniversary of you finding yourself here, on this page of history, Sihtric tells you he loves you again when the two of you return to the place where Osmund and Mildryd found you, and you tell him all about what brought you to this world. You can't help but feel this is where you were meant to be when Sihtric tells you he prayed for you, too.

For someone who could love him, more than he could himself.

It seems… you were exactly what the other was looking for.

#sihtric x reader #sihtric #the last kingdom #sihtric kjartansson #fanfiction #fanfic #mcloveproductions #tlk sihtric #tlk

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emilyhufflepufftlk · 3 years

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A Cruel Game | Sihtric x OC

In celebration of @for-bebbanburg’s well deserved 100 followers.

Prompt: ‘being ordered to kill someone you’ve fallen in love with. How did you get into this situation and what will you do next?’

Tove, one of Kjartan's best warriors, is sent to kill Sihtric after he defects to Uhtred. However, her feelings for him get in the way.

Word Count: 2926

‘There are only seven heads! Go out there and tell me who is missing!’ Kjartan screamed at the closest guard. The poor man looked terrified; the last man that had been sent beyond Dunholm’s walls had been beheaded by a horseman sent from corpse hall to take all their souls. He looked like he was going to refuse but one look at his lord clearly made him remember that Kjartan was willing to inflict just as much pain on his men as any demon horseman. The great doors creaked open and the poor man scampered along the line of spiked heads, his eyes constantly darting to the tree line in case the horseman should return.

‘Sihtric, lord,’ the man shouted back. ‘It is Sihtric that is missing!’

Three days had passed since the heads had appeared outside the walls of Dunholm. Three days Kjartan had spent in a seething rage. Whether his rage was due to him losing some of his best men, his plans to finally get revenge on Uhtred Ragnarson having failed, or the unknown whereabouts of his bastard son, no one was sure. Tove thought it was probably a combination of all three.

Tove had known Kjartan her whole life. Her father had been one of his most trusted, loyal warriors who had been by his side since the days he had served Ragnar the Fearless. After her father’s death in battle when she was only nine, Kjartan had taken her in out of respect for her father. Kjartan was a terrible, evil man and deserved his title as Kjartan the Cruel, but it seemed to Tove that he had genuinely liked and cared for her father. Tove, on the other hand, Kjartan neither liked nor cared for, but he had given her food and a roof over her head, he had let her train and learn to fight, and he had prevented any of his men from using her against her will. Tove owed Kjartan a lot, without him she would have been destitute with no family to turn to; she may not like him, she despised him even, but in many ways she was indebted to him.

‘The bastard has betrayed me!’ Kjartan roared, banging his first on the table. ‘He is probably telling Uhtred about our defences as we speak! I should have had him killed ages ago, like I did his mother.’

Tove flinched. When she had first arrived, she had been terrified. Kjartan, thinking little of her, had told her to sleep with the slaves and that is what she had done. Sihtric’s mother, Elflaed, had cared for her the best she could, her kindness immeasurable. Her gory death had hit her hard, although not as hard as Sihtric, of course. They were a similar age, and although Tove wasn’t a slave she wasn’t treated much better; Sihtric had it worse, the cruelty Kjartan showed his bastard son knowing no bounds, but they helped each other through it. She had held him in her arms the whole night as he had cried his heart out after his mother’s death, and from that night on they had only had each other.

‘We do not know he is with Uhtred,’ Sven pointed out, the only man brave enough to dare to contradict his father, ‘why would he want him? He is nothing – a nobody! He would be worthless to him.’

Tove made sure to keep her face blank, she did not wish for punishment, but inside she was laughing. Sven loved to say that Sihtric was worthless, but he was a better fighter than Sven would ever be. Over the years she had known him, Sihtric had grown into a man and a great warrior. She was sure Elflaed would’ve been proud.

‘He is with Uhtred!’ Kjartan shouted again, giving his son a look that made it clear there was no room for argument. ‘The bastard has betrayed me! He must die!’

‘But how?’ Sven asked, never having been the smartest. ‘Uhtred won’t be taken for a fool twice.’

‘No, he won’t. That is why we will send someone he does not suspect,’ Kjartan snarled, turning to face Tove with a grin that made her blood run cold. ‘Who would suspect a woman?’

Tove was no longer the scared little girl who had first arrived at Dunholm. She had learnt that men would only respect her if she learnt how to fight, so that is what she had done, and now, nine years later, she was a shieldmaiden and one of Kjartan’s best warriors. This mission was not so difficult; sneak unnoticed into Eoferwic, locate Sihtric, kill him, and return to Kjartan with his head. But this was no simple mission. As she rode out of the gates of Dunholm, Tove’s heart was almost jumping out of her throat and she felt completely sick. For the first time in years, she was afraid. Afraid of what she must do. Sihtric wasn’t just a friend; over the years, as they had grown older, they had become far more to each other than that. In truth she loved him, although she had never told him that. However, her feelings meant nothing. She had given her oath to Kjartan, sworn her sword and there was no going back from that. She had her orders and she must complete them.

The only hope she had left was that Kjartan was wrong, that Sihtric had escaped and fled well away from Northumbria, but that hope soon disappeared. It hadn’t been difficult to slip into the city, especially under the cover of darkness, just like Tove knew it would be – people never looked twice at women, probably assuming her to be a whore. She had located Uhtred’s men quick enough and there was Sihtric, looking as handsome as ever. No, he was more handsome, as for the first time in his life he had hope in his eyes and a smile, a real smile, on his face. She couldn’t blame him for defecting; Kjartan had never given him a reason to be loyal to him and, by the looks of his men, Uhtred seemed to be a decant lord. But this changed nothing, Tove reminded herself.

When Sihtric stood and walked away from the other men, probably going to take a piss, Tove took her chance. Sticking to the shadows, careful not to be seen, she followed him into a side alley. She must have made a sound as Sihtric stopped dead still, even drunk his senses were better than anyone’s. Not even thinking about it, Tove grabbed him and pressed him against the wall, her knife against his throat. His eyes widened, ‘Tove?’ he gasped. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Kjartan wants you dead and he sent me to do his dirty work,’ she said in a flat voice, trying to keep her emotions from showing on her face.

‘You’re going to kill me?’ he asked, no fear in his eyes.

‘I do not want to, but I will,’ Tove forced herself to say through gritted teeth. She did not want to do this, but what other choice did she have? ‘Please, Sihtric, I don’t want to do this. Leave Uhtred and flee south, I can tell Kjartan that you must have escaped and ran. If I come back empty handed and he gets word that you’re here, he will kill me! You know this! You have to run! Please!’ She was begging now, her voice cracking from the emotion rising inside her.

‘I can’t,’ Sihtric whispered. ‘I have sworn to Lord Uhtred and he is a good lord, a great lord. I will not abandon him. I will not break my oath.’ Tove shook her head, her blade still against Sihtric’s skin, hating Sihtric for his loyalty, but at the same time knowing that was one of the things she loved him for. ‘Tove, you don’t have to do this. You can abandon Kjartan and join Uhtred. Join me! We can be together – isn’t that what you want?’

Tears were building in her eyes. That was exactly what she wanted but it was something she could not have. ‘I can’t, Sihtric! I have sworn to Kjartan, just like you have sworn to Uhtred! I will not be an oath breaker! I won’t!’

‘But Kjartan treats you no better than a slave! When you swore your sword, he swore to protect you in return. He is not a good lord; the Gods cannot blame you for leaving a man like that!’

‘He has protected me, Sihtric! Yes, he is a cruel, vile man. Yes, he has not treated me kindly. But if it wasn’t for him, I would be lying dead in an alleyway or selling myself in a brothel by now! Before he took me in, I had nothing! I am indebted, Sihtric!’ Tove sobbed, tears spilling over and running down her cheeks as she realised there was no way out of this situation.

‘So kill me!’ he spat.

‘I will,’ Tove spat back, trying to muster her conviction.

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ came a deep, Danish voice from behind her. Before she could turn to see who had sneaked up behind her, a pain blazed through her skull and she felt herself falling to the ground, before it all went black.

When Tove woke up it was light outside, although it was unclear how long she had been out for. Her head was extremely painful where she had been hit with what she suspected was a blunt object. She was in what looked like an unused part of a stable, her hands and feet tied together with rope. Looking up, she saw Sihtric sitting not far from her, meeting her eye when he noticed she was awake. He passed her a jug of water before getting up and leaving her, not saying a single word.

A few moments later he returned with two men. She was informed that the first man was Lord Uhtred, and the other man, who was huge with arms like tree trunks, was another Dane named Clapa. It had been Clapa that had knocked her out; no wonder her head hurt so much. ‘I understand that you’re called Tove?’

‘Yes, lord.’

‘The only reason you are still alive is because of Sihtric. He seems to believe that you might consider joining us. Help us against Kjartan.’

‘I’m sorry, lord.’ Tove said slowly, not looking Sihtric in the eye. ‘I’m afraid I cannot give you my sword nor my oath as they both belong to another. It is not for any love or loyalty to Kjartan that I refuse you, lord, but I cannot break an oath. I will not. And if that means I am to die, then so be it.’

Uhtred simply nodded in response. He and Clapa left soon after, leaving Tove alone with Sihtric. He came and sat on the floor beside her and took her bound hands in his. ‘He will not kill you; he respects you for not breaking your oath.’

‘Then what will happen to me?’

‘I don’t know,’ Sihtric answered with a deep sigh. They sat together for what seemed like hours, simply holding each other close like they always did back in Dunholm whenever life turned against them. The spinners seemed to have played a cruel game with them, making them fall in love only to tear them apart. ‘You have always been there for me, always. When I dreamed of escaping Dunholm, it was always with you by my side.’

She looked into Sihtric’s beautiful, mismatched eyes. ‘Me too. I never imagined a future without you in it. I knew that the future was unlikely to be kind to us, but I always felt it didn’t matter how hard it got so long as we were together.’ Tears once again fell over the brim of Tove’s eyes. Sihtric reached up and gently wiped them away with his thumb. His hands moved to cup her face and slowly brought her towards him. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, the contact bringing all the emotions Tove had tried to bury and ignore for the last few days back to the surface. This would likely be the last time she ever got to kiss him, and she didn’t want it to end, but he forced himself way. He looked guiltily at her, like he hadn’t meant to kiss her. ‘I don’t know what will happen to you, Tove. I’m sorry.’ With that he left, leaving her alone with her tears.

A week passed and there was still no decision on what Tove’s fate would be. It seemed Uhtred had more pressing matters to be concerned with. She saw little of Sihtric and when she did, he barely spoke a word to her.

It was early in the morning when she heard a clamour outside. She could hear Uhtred’s voice calling a woman’s name: ‘Gisela’ – he sounded desperate. Something was happening. Something was wrong. She heard someone running towards her corner of the stables and a few moments later saw Sihtric panting above her.

‘You have to go, now!’ he ordered her, in a rushed whisper. He undid the ropes binding her hands and feet and pulled her with him out of the stables. They ran through small backstreets of the city, which she assumed was to prevent them from being seen, his hand still firmly holding hers.

‘Sihtric, what’s going on?’

‘Lord Uhtred has been betrayed,’ he replied, emotion clear in his voice. ‘Guthred has sold him into slavery. Lord Uhtred was protecting you, now he is gone, you have been marked for execution.’

‘Won’t you get into trouble?’ she asked him urgently. She didn’t want him to be executed in her place.

‘Everyone’s too busy in the square to be worried about us. Come on!’

They reached a small side gate, a horse held by Clapa waiting for them. ‘Sihtric…’ she began. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, so many things she wanted to thank him for, but somehow all her words became caught in her throat. She threw herself at his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck as she buried her face into his shoulder to hide her tears. ‘I love you.’

He lifted her chin so that she was once again staring into those beautiful eyes. ‘I love you too.’ She grabbed the back of his head and brought him down into a passionate kiss, trying to convey everything she wanted to say but couldn’t into the action. ‘Now go,’ he urged her as they broke apart.

Tove pulled herself onto the horse and gave Sihtric one last desperate look before kicking hard and riding off into the Northumbrian countryside.

ONE YEAR LATER:

‘Every man to the walls! We are under attack!’ Tove grabbed her sword and shield along with all the other warriors of Dunholm.

Little had changed over the last year, apart from the large scar that now framed her face – a gift from Kjartan after her failure to kill Sihtric. Only the news that Uhtred had been enslaved and living a fate worse than death had saved Tove’s life, Kjartan too busy celebrating the news to bother with her too much. She had tried to keep Sihtric from her mind, but she had failed, finding herself thinking of him most days. She had thought she would never see him again, but she had been wrong.

As she ran into the courtyard towards the walls like she had been ordered to, a cry went up that there had been a breach – the enemy were within the walls. She turned, sword and shield in hand as she readied herself to slaughter the invading warriors but stopped still in her tracks. There was Sihtric, fighting alongside Uhtred.

A huge Dane came at Sihtric from behind. Sihtric was busy fighting off two other men and would be helpless to the new threat. Her feet began moving on their own accord, her body moving faster than her brain could comprehend. Before she knew what was happening, she was drawing her sword from the Danes neck and standing before a shocked Sihtric. More of Kjartan’s men came running towards them; Tove immediately moved so she stood back to back with Sihtric, ready to cut down her former comrades.

There was no time to talk. No time to explain how over the last year she had realised that she had made a mistake, that Kjartan was unworthy of her loyalty, that she should have sworn to Uhtred and been with Sihtric. All she could do was fight. It seemed she had made her choice; she had chosen to break her oath and kill those she was supposed to fight beside; but she realised to save Sihtric, she would do anything.

After the battle, Tove found Sihtric sitting alone just outside the main gates. The fortress bringing back too many memories for him to remain inside. Tove understood that. They sat in silence for a while, Sihtric’s hand in hers, their fingers laced together. ‘What happens now?’ she finally asked.

‘I go back to Wessex with Lord Uhtred. What will you do?’

‘I would like to come with you. Serve Lord Uhtred – if he’ll have me,’ she said with a slight smile. ‘I just want to be with you.’ Sihtric beamed at her and placed his arm around her, bringing his head forward so their foreheads touched. They were together, and in that moment, that was all that mattered.

#rosies100 #sihtric #sihtric x OC #the last kingdom #tlk fanfiction

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thr-333 · 4 years

Text

Mismatch- Part 6

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Sibling bonding at its finest, fighting and breaking rules

First< Previous> Next

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“Maman, Papa, we’re fine,” Marinette holds the phone between them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home?” Tom asks through speaker phone.

“No Papa, Nette worked hard for this trip,” Marion insists, they are sitting in the back of Bruce's car with him and Selina in the front.

“We both work-”

“Both want to stay, that's right,” Marion cuts her off, grinning at her glare, “Besides we have things to do here remember ?”

“Ok, but if you change your minds,” Sabine frets, they do have a concert coming up.

“We’ll be on the first flight back,” Marinette agrees, Aunt Selina leans back and she holds up the phone for her.

“Don’t worry Tom, I’ll keep them out of trouble,” She tells her brother.

“You’re the last person I trust to do that,” Tom laughs from the other end of the line.

“Rude,” She glares down at the phone.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Sabine speaks over her husbands laughter.

“Thank you Sabine, you're my favourite person in Paris,” She winks at the twins, whispering "Right now,"

"Hey!" Tom shouts from the phone.

“Of course,” Sabine chuckles over her husband,“We have to go back to the bakery now,”

“We’ll talk later,” Tom promises, "Have fun,"

“See ya,” Selina sits back upright.

“Bye Papa, Maman,” Marinette moves to hang up

“Also we met Aunt Selina's fiance! Bye!" Marion blurts, everyone in the car freezes.

“WHA-” Marion hangs up.

“Marion! That was…..” Their Aunt shouts before giggling, turning into full blown laughter,“... That was so…”

The twins start laughing as well, making her give up on whatever lecture she was going to launch into.

“Selina, your phones ringing,” Bruce says, as she calms down.

“Yeah, it’s probably going to do that for awhile,” Selina turns it to silent and ignores the call, then turns to Marion,“Don’t ever do that again,”

“Are you planning on getting remarried?” Marion asks cheekily.

“Quite the thing to admit in front of your fiance,” Marinette adds, glancing at Bruce to see he is also smiling slightly. Years with Kagami had trained her to notice those hints of emotion.

“Brats,” She huffs turning back around.

“We love you,” They chorus.

“Brats,” Selina shakes her head fondly just as they approach the gates.

Marinette stares in awe at the large estate. The architecture and gardens immediately had her pulling out her sketch book to jot down ideas. She gets pushed out of the car by Marion and keeps drawing as they walk towards the Manor doors.

"You're home is beautiful," Marinette compliments Bruce.

"Thank you, I think so too," Bruce says as the doors open.

“Welcome home, Master Bruce, Miss Selina,” Alfred stands in the doorway, “And you, Miss Dupain-Cheng and Mr Cheng-Dupain, welcome to Wayne Manor.”

“It’s good to see you again, please, just Marinette's fine,” Marinette puts away her sketchbook.

“Yeah, I'd rather you just call me Marion,” Marion beams at him, before whispering, “Did we even tell you our last names?… witchcraft,”

“Very well, please come this way,” Alfred guides them into the Manor, stopping outside a door, "Master Damian is waiting, I must be off to prepare dinner,"

"Thank you Alfred," Bruce tells the butler as he leaves.

They enter the living room type area. A boy who couldn't even be thirteen yet stands. 'He's so small' Marinette thinks to herself.

"Father," He glares at her and Marion.

“This is my son Damian,” Bruce introduces, “Damian met Marinette and Marion,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Marinette smiles, holding her hand out.

“Tt” Damian looks away, getting a glare from Bruce before taking her hand, “... Likewise,”

Selinas phone buzzes again. Drawing attention away from the insincere tone.

“I should probably answer them, or they’ll never leave us alone,” Their Aunt sighs taking out her phone, “Bruce come with me, I’m sure they’ll want to meet you,”

“Is this going to be a pleasant conversation?” He asks.

“No its going to be very painful,” Marinette smiles, knowing they were about to have a very long conversation with her over excited Papa. He would probably have planned their wedding by the time they manage to hang up.

“Right,” Bruce says hesitantly, he turns to Damian with a pointed look, “Behave,”

"Tt," is Damian's response as he is left alone with them.

Marion sits down. Marinette follows sitting next to him on one of couches, surprised at how soft it is. Damian sits down on an armchair, picking up a book.

“So, Damian how old are you?" Marinette asks, after a full minute of silence

“12,” He doesn't look up from his book

“... We’re 18, twins if you couldn't tell,” Marion steps in gesturing between them.

“I could,” Damian answers shortly.

“Right... so what are your hobbies?” Marinette tries again.

“... painting,” Damian concedes under her expectant gaze.

“Oh, can we see?” She asks excitedly.

“No,” Damian snaps. She doesn't let that discourage her, she doesn't like showing strangers her designs. Apart from the millions of strangers who see her designs anyway.

“Alright, I get that," Marion shares the sentiment, "What about-Oh my god,”

“What?” Damian finally looks up from his book, scanning the room for the cause of his outburst.

“Kitty!” Marion practically leaps from the couch to get a better look at the cat sauntering across the room.

“Oh no,” Marinette sighs watching her brother melt over the cat.

“That’s Alfred,” Damian tells them eyeing the cat and Marion with mild amusement.

“After Alfred, Alfred your butler?” Marinette tries not to snicker at the name.

“Yes, pennyworth is his namesake,” Damian nods, glare daring Marinette to laugh.

“Can I pet him?!” Marion pleads, with baby-doll eyes that could put Manon to shame.

“You can try, Alfred is very selective about who pets him,” Damian grants, and Marion sits on the ground, inching closer.

“I wouldn’t worry, Mari has a way with cats,” Marinette smirks, thinking back to the time she had to fight an Akuma alone because he was being smothered by cats.

“Come here Alfred,” Marion rubs his hand on the ground, Alfred watching closely.

“Do you have any other pets?” Marinette asks, Damian puts down his book.

“I have Titus, a great dane,” Damian watches as Alfred gives in and pounces on Marion’s hand, “Batcow, self explanatory,”

“Bat-cow mutant?” Marion guesses letting Alfred sniff his hand.

“No,” Damian's irritation shows, “She has patch shaped like the Bat symbol,”

“Oh, that was my second guess,” Alfred lets Marion scratch behind his ear.

“Can we see them?” Marinette excited over meeting Batcow.

“They’ll be around here somewhere, roaming the manor grounds,” Damian responds, non committaly.

“Alfred the Cat, feels weird to call them both Alfred,” Marion muses, Damian looks surprised as the cat climbs into this lap.

“Have you any pets?” Damian asks his first question about them.

“No, we live in a bakery so it would be a health code violation,” Marinette answers sadly. She doubts a box of animal type Kwamis are regulation either but no one has to know about that.

“Al-at? no,” Marion talks to himself, or more likely the cat.

“That’s a shame,” Damian acknowledges monotonously, watching as Alfred the cat starts to purr as Marion scratches his chin.

“We did try to sneak strays in when we were little,” Marinette is unwilling to let the conversation drop.

“Ca-Fred, Cat-Fred!” Marion exclaims, apologising seconds later to the newly dubbed Cat-fred for startling him.

“Try?” Damian sneers.

“The first few times were a disaster, we didn’t get past the front door,” Marinette explains, “Maman and Papa would send them to the shelter straight away,”

“At least they didn’t put them back out on the street,” Damian muses.

“They would never,” Marion responds, in baby talk directed at Cat-fred.

"You don't have to use that ridiculous voice," Damian scolds.

"I know," Marion answers, in the same voice, Damian glowers.

“As we got older we started being able to actually get them inside before being found out,” Marinette distracts him from Marion's taunting.

“One of us would be the distraction and the other snuck in, with a sleeping cat or dog, that one we learnt the hard way,” Marion uses a normal voice, still showering Cat-fred with attention.

“I think that is how I got my reputation for being clumsy,” Marinette sighs, it was always left up to her to distract their parents by knocking something over while Marion snuck in.

“What can I say? Cats love me,” Marion proves his point as Alfred turns over, letting him see his belly.

“I can see that,” Damian seems amused as much as he is surprised.

“At first, they’d find them in a few hours, so we learnt by trial and error,” Marinette continues, relaxing into the couch. "We must have taken in at least a hundred strays,"

“I think the last one we had managed a few months before we go found out,” Marion guesses, they hadn't tried again since the received their miraculous.

For one because they couldn't afford their parents searching their room regularly and coming across the Kwamis. However being the heroes of Paris had also proven effective in getting people to adopt. Usually the first person they asked would immediately agree, if they were suited up.

“So how many more pets have you managed to smuggle in?” Marion stage whispers to Damian, the gap between them being too big to actually whisper, “In a place this big should be easy,”

“I’ve tried… Pennyworth has caught me each time,” Damian admits, looking down at the almost asleep Cat-fred.

“That man is a witch,” Marion declares with certainty.

“What?” Damian seems taken aback.

“He appears out of nowhere and knows too much,” Marion provides what Marinette is sure he considers evidence.

“Hn, that is true,” Damain starts to share his multiple accounts of such behaviour.

The three fall into easy conversation after that listening to and sharing stories.

“I must be going insane,” All their eyes snap to a man standing in the doorway “Demon spawns actually getting along with someone,”

“Todd,” Damian acknowledges coldly.

“Hi,” Marion waves with far more friendliness, “I’m Marion, this is Marinette, your names Todd was it?”

“Jason actually, I lived here and drop by every now and then, mainly when Alfred asks," He explains, sitting on another couch near Marion, "Heard about you had a run in with a villain today,”

“Did you?” Damian asks, the two having avoided it in their conversation so far.

“Yeah, got an earful from Aunt Selina,” Marion laughs nervously.

“Did you get hurt?” Jason looks over Marion, concern written all over his face.

“What? No I’m fine thanks,” Marion smiles, Marinette rolled her eyes she stretches her leg to press to his bruised side, "Ow! Nette!"

"No lying," She shrugs as Marion turns to her. Cat-fred runs at the sudden movement, making Marion pout.

"Rich coming from you," He mutters, turing back to see the look on Jason's face, "My side just a little bruised, doesn't hurt unless someone, oh i don't know, kicks me!"

"I didn't kick you, you drama queen," Marinette sticks her tongue out at him and he copies.

“Did Selina train you?” Damian reverts the conversation.

“A little when we were younger, we still to spar together,” Marinette pretends to go for a kick to his side again, expecting the easy block.

"One of the few instances we're allows to punch each other," Marion jokes, "Although I think I'll hold off for now, you're not above using my injury to your advantage,"

"I'm resourceful," Marinette corrects, "Also, now you're hurt when you're afraid to get you're ass beat?"

"Such crass language, young lady," Jason teases, Marinette pokes her tongue out again.

"I can spar you if Marion is unwilling," Damian offers, Marion grumbles something along the lines of 'I never said that'.

"Right now?" Marinette sizes him up, she could tell he had some training.

"If you want," Damian also starts to size her up.

"Hold up now, you can't do this," Jason steps in, Marinette starts to deflate, "In here, Alfred would stop you, lets go outside,"

She perks up, following Jason, Marion and Damian outside to a clear area of grass. She toes off her shoes and socks, knowing they were steel capped and would cause some serious damage. She also pulls off her scarf, not willing to give him any advantage. Damian keeps his shoes on, clicking his tongue. They start to circle each other, waiting for someone to make a move. Marinette feels the grass beneath her feet, she feels more like Ladybug in a way.

Damian breaks the standoff, lunging at her. Marinette side steps at the last second, reminding herself to tone it down. She tries to make use of the opening by getting behind him, but Damian instantly pivots to keep her in front of him. Marinette takes note he's a lot faster than anticipated and decides to test it. She makes the next move forward throwing a few punches to see how he reacts. Damian easily dodges each one, Marinette realises that she is unprepared to fight someone smaller than her. They did occasionally have to fight Akumatised children but that was with superpowers. She had never actually gone hand to hand with someone smaller.

Taking this into consideration she adjusts to a style she uses more when sparring Marion. They're both about the same size and he's fast so she can rarely use his weight against him like she usually would. Marinette stops trying to get behind Damian, instead planning to send him to the ground, knowing she had the size advantage. Damian seemingly notices this change and adjusts his defences.

'how well is he trained?' Marinette asks herself. Damian tries to goad her into attacking, throwing out punches. Marinette doesn't rise to the bait, dodging and blocking. Marinette dances around their sparring area, testing Damian's stamina while waiting for an opening. She sees her chance and is about to move into counter attack.

"Damian!" They both pause looking toward the manor to see Bruce and Selina.

"Marinette! what do you think you're doing?" Aunt Selina storms towards them.

"Uh... bonding?" She laughs nervously.

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artxyra · 4 years

Note

So I had this idea and I was wondering if you would write it. So damian has lived with his dad for a couple of years, he is 15/16 and his brothers have been nagging him about going on a date like a normal teenager for months now, and then one day he just snaps and screams at them " don't you get it I'm already betrothed!" His brothers are confused but try to help " I'm sure we can find a loophole and get you out of it!" "No. If the betrothal is broken the league will kill her."enter marinette.

Note: Well this story sounded better in my head, but it took forever to type up. I hope you enjoy it.

Damian couldn’t remember a time when his brothers didn’t make an attempt at his love life. Every other month (sometimes weeks) it was attempt after attempt. He hated it. At first, he humored his brothers, but that humor quickly turned to the opposite emotion. Though Damian’s biggest secret thought that it was hilarious, and it was.

Damian remembers their first attempt, he was only fourteen, been in the Waynes’ custody for almost four years. He remembers being tugged into a bathroom and then forces to wear silly fancy clothes. His brothers should have been lucky that he didn’t have his weapons on him. To them, it was to gain the high school boy experience since Damian refused to do any of the sorts. Shouldn’t they just happy that he has one friend at the very least? Nope, they really wanted Damian to have a sense of normality.

“Baby bird, every teen goes on a date. Please just do this for us.” It was Dick that had started the persuasion. Damian had only tsk and fold his arms against his chest. He was already fed up with all the bullshit spewing from the older adopted Wayne’s mouth.

“Why should I even do this? I barely know the har—girl and—” Damian begins to scowl as Dick interrupts him by tossing a vest for him to wear. He mentally gags at the texture of the vest. Damian had scene better quality, not that he’ll tell where.

“We promise it will be worth it.” It was Tim that adds to the conversation as Jason was to busy cleaning up his knife in broad daylight.

It wasn’t long after that was the date with a Gotham native. She wasn’t up to his standards; it was clear that she didn’t want to be with him for him. To this day he suspects that she only agreed because of the money. Damian tried everything to make the date super uncomfortable for the girl even going so far as to make up an explicitly detailed gory story. She left cursing his brothers, mainly Dick, out at the end of their date.

Damian had thought that would be the one and only time that would happen…he had forgotten the stubbornness that runs in the family. Failing was not an option as this continues for another four years.

“I’m sure it was a fun date.” A female’s voice says from the screen of his laptop, that was place on his dresser as he does shadow movements with his katana.

“It was tiresome, Angel, and quite frankly I’m getting sick of it.” Damian lowers the blade to his side and turns to face the screen. On the screen is a lovely female, around his age with long dark hair that drapes over her shoulders. She lets out a giggle.

“I’m sure they have the best intentions, besides it’s not like they know I exist, anyway.” She says rolling her eyes.

“Angel, I love you, but not even you can last an evening with the dates they have set up over and over again.” Damian sighs putting up the katana. He then picks up the laptop and goes to lie on his bed.

“Well, I’m sure it will all be fine. Besides, I have a surprise for you that is coming soon. Just hold out until then. Okay?” She says with a bright as a loud sound goes off in the background. Damian sighs and nods before ending the video call. He hates keeping her a secret, but it was the right thing to do.

It was a week later when his brothers came to him with another blind date proposal signally the tenth time that has happened in a span of a month. Everyone could see the growing frustration in the young Wayne heir. With the mention of dates, couples, restaurant, manhood, romance, it would set Damian off, although he was quick to calm down with a message from an Angel.

“Look Demon spawn, she is literally perfect for you.” It was an excuse, something for him to look forward to. No one is perfect.

“C’mon baby bird, she could be the one.” Another excuse. There was only one girl that was the one and she’s several hundred thousand miles away.

“Go, it all fancy and shit, also the NDA.” Ugh, this was becoming numbing. Damian could only wish to slide his fine blade across all their necks. Also, why the hell would Jason even mention an NDA to him in the first place?

“What is this? Another blind date for the young master?” Thank god for Alfred.

“Alfred, we promise this will be the last time.” That’s a lie and he knows it.

Damian could feel the growing headache forming at the back of his mind. Dick’s moving too fast, Tim’s giving him all the details about his so-called date, and well Jason is just being Jason.

“Enough!” Damian finally breaks. “The reason why I don’t like going on these so-called blind dates is because I’m betrothed to someone.” The word betrothed rings through the heads of his family members.

“Wha~!” Simultaneously, the older Waynes’ minds break.

“Is there any way you can break it off? A loophole even? How are you betrothed?” Shouldn’t that had been asked backward? They could all see the steam oozing out of Damian’s ears.

Crossing his arms and turning his back to his brothers, Damian looks down. “No, not unless you want a death on your hands. The only way to end a betrothal is to kill the other, that has always been the League’s away of things.” The second the last word left his lips, Damian walks away; he needs to talk with his Angel.

Still in shock, everyone turns to one another.

“How could we have missed that?” Tim screeches before taking a sip from his mug despite the shaking in his hand.

Dick was unsure what to say, think, or do. It’s not every day you learn the brother you’ve been setting up is engaged. An engagement that they could not break.

“I’m more worried who the brat is engaged too?” Jason murmurs then proceed to clean out his gun. His brothers stare at him with wide eyes unsure what to say to the second oldest.

For the next week after that bomb drop, his brothers continue to pester him about his betrothal, they even managed to include Bruce in the conversation a couple of times. If it wasn’t for Alfred, Damian knows that the pestering would have left someone in the hospital.

On a rare sunny day in Gotham, Damian had taken Titus out for a walk. It was clear his mind and to get away for the time being. Finding a nice park bench to sit on, he pulls out a small sketchpad and begins to sketch. Titus runs around enjoying the outdoors.

“Is this spot taken?” The voice sounded so familiar. He grunts ever once looking up the person afraid that he had misheard the voice. “Oh, c’mon Dams, I thought you would be happy to see me.” It was then that he looks up. In shock, he pushes the sketchpad to the side and pulls the person in front of him into his arms.

“I miss you.” He murmurs into her dark hair. “But how?”

“I managed to win the Martha Wayne scholarship, and then your butler Alfred got into contact with me about visiting.” She says looking up to Damian, though she was mainly seeing his chin due to their height difference. “You’ve grown.” She then pouts.

Damian lets out a soft chuckle, hoping that no one outside of his Angel heard him. His Angel places her head against his chest and together they stayed like that until Titus decided that he was some attention.

“Awe, he’s so cute.” She says petting the Great Dane.

Damian was internally happy to have her by his side for the first time in years. She’s the one that is perfect for him and it’s not because she was molded to be, but because she knows him inside and out.

When Damian, Titus, and his Angel returned to the manor, it is Alfred that they see first.

“Welcome home, young master, and Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Alfred greets the teen.

“Alfred, please call me Marinette, my last name can be a mouth full,” Marinette says giving the butler a smile. Alfred nods and proceeds to guide them to the living room. “So, this is the Wayne manor, those photos you send me Dams does this no justice.”

Damian once again chuckles knowing she’ll be in a heavily inspired by the architecture which will then cause her to go dark until she finishes whatever project came out of the inspiration.

“Angel, how about I give you a proper tour of the manor?” He offers to which she gladly takes.

Marinette had been staying at the Wayne manor for a couple of days before Damian brothers make their grand entrance. Without catching sight of the girl, they make their way to the youngest Wayne hoping to get some answers about his betrothal.

“Um, you can ask me if you want,” Marinette says from behind the boys causing an outcry of emotions.

“What you’re real?” It was Tim rubbing his eyes that speaks first.

Marinette awkwardly nods, “And you need sleep. I have a special brew that can knock anyone out within seconds.” She says to Tim before turning to the others. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you.”

Dick and Jason stare at the girl lost for words. Dick was internally gushing about her size and how cute she is compared to Damian while Jason struggles to comprehend the person in front of him.

Marinette closes the gap between her and Jason. She looks over the second oldest and smiles sadly. “You have so much darkness around you. The same that used to be around Dams. I could help you if you want.” She says taking the male’s hand.

Jason was lost for words. This person was willing to help him. He wasn’t sure how to feel but the light flowing off of this tiny person was overpowering.

“That’s it you’re my new favorite sibling. I will protect you with my life.” Dick cries out starting the competition of who’s Marinette’s favorite brother-in-law.

Not surprisingly enough, Marinette warmed her way into the Wayne family. She even bonded with Steph, Cass, and Barbara whenever the girls came over for a girls-only day. Damian quickly was reminded why he didn’t want his family to know about her, seeing that he barely has time with her as his siblings take all the time away. Though it has it’s benefits. He can now visit Marinette in France without needing to sneak away and she could come to visit the manor whenever she wants.

Damian knew the moment he said “I do”, she’ll be his forever in life and in death just like he’ll be hers forever.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#daminette #maribat #ml x dc #damimari #mlb x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #marinette x damian

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tailsisfluffy · 3 years

Note

Heyo!! How are you dear? I am so glad to have found your blog as there are so few active Soutaku blogs that I know of :(( And you are a fantastic writer, I speedran a few of your books these past nights!! I wanted to ask you, since your characterization is 10/10, what are a few of your Soutaku headcanons like as a couple?? Hope you have a lovely day <3

Thanks! I’m not going to lie that I was very surprised to see my blog as one of the top SouTaku ones the other day even though there isn’t a single piece of visual art originally from me. And thank you very much for checking out my stories as well! Your comment made me very happy!

As for my SouTaku HCs, I have quite a few of them. I won’t be able to remember them all, but I can list my bigger ones, which is quite a list as well. I hope you like them!

· If they go anywhere that has food, Soma will share with Takumi. He will either request to try what Takumi is eating or feed Takumi from his own plate. Like Soma would put the utensil he was using or the food in front of Takumi to prompt him to take a bite, or Soma would poke and whine until Takumi pushed his plate over, feed him the same way Soma does, or if it’s a food that they are holding in their hands and Soma gets impatient he will literally reach over and take a bite of it himself. (not too big, though.) This habit was actually started by Takumi during the train arc when they ran off to try different foods in Hokkaido and Takumi shoved his food in Soma’s direction for him to try it. After that, it was free game for Soma. Takumi doesn’t really mind unless someone else points it out and Takumi puts an end to it out of embarrassment until the next time they are alone. (He doesn’t care at all after they are married, though.)

· I mentioned this before, but Takumi teaches Soma how to use the mezzaluna. Soma asks how to use it one day and Takumi was happy to teach him. There were many days that Soma spent in the kitchen by himself trying to get the motions just right.

· If Takumi starts telling Soma about Italy, there is a very high chance that he will start to lapse into a mix of Italian and Japanese, something he does at home. Especially when he talks about his family. Soma doesn’t stop him to tell him that he can not understand half his words. He thinks it’s cute to see Takumi that relaxed. It gets to the point where people ask him if he knows Italian, where Soma says no. Takumi is so embarrassed when he finally finds out what he does.

· Soma starts taking Italian classes. When he is finally able to, he starts speaking simple sentences to Takumi. When Takumi asks why he’s trying to learn Italian, Soma tells him that he is learning so he could understand him better. Of course, Takumi is embarrassed yet pleased by the gesture.

· Takumi is a person who doesn’t care for physical touch. He always looks uncomfortable when someone touches or jumps him. (Isami knows this but does it to bother him, anyways.) Soma, however, is a person who can’t help but to touch everything in sight. It gets worse when he’s excited, and he gets excited when he sees Takumi. Soma often drags Takumi around by the wrist or hand. Or he’ll sling an arm around his shoulders. Or shake him.If they sit together for long lectures or rides, Soma will fiddle with Takumi’s jacket or playfully tap or softly punch Takumi himself. Once they become official, Soma become a lot more physically affectionate. One of Soma’s favorite positions is to sit behind Takumi and have him lean against his chest.

· Takumi was the first one to have feelings for Soma. It was after Soma had won his mezzaluna back from Mimasaka. Soma started to see Takumi in a special light after they got into the Elite Ten. He loved that Takumi was the only one who could keep up with him. Soma also began to try to consider Takumi’s overall feelings and made sure not to ignore him as much as he did in their first year. Soma even feels bad about those incidents and apologizes, which Takumi says that it’s alright.

· I have an ever-growing list of who asks who to date/marry first and the scenarios to go with it. (I wrote about one in my OTP post, actually.) But the common theme in all of them is that one asks for the first date and the other asks for marriage first. I kind of favor Soma asking Takumi out on a date in front of their friends and Takumi just shuts down from elation and embarrassment. And Takumi just blurting out “Marry me.” to Soma one day.

· Going off with Soma making the first official move: Soma asks Isami how to say “I love you” in Italian.

· Soma loves pet names. He will call Takumi “Sweetheart” the most. He only does it when they are alone or around family and close friends, though, because he knows Takumi gets super embarrassed if they are in public. Takumi does do pet names as well, but only at home. He doesn’t have a favorite one for Soma, though.

· Takumi leaves the Trattoria to the rest of the family as he and Soma travel the world. Sometimes together, sometimes separate. They start off by living at Yukihira.

· They keep their personal life to themselves for the most part. They also keep their rivalry in public as well. The public does not even know that they are married at all for a couple of years because they wear their rings as a necklace because they are chefs. Even when the news comes out that they are both married, the public thinks they are married to other people. It takes several more years for the fact that they are married to each other to be out there. (They usually answer questions with “my spouse” or “my son” or other vague/possessive answers.) It’s not because they don’t want to tell anyone. People outside their main circle just perceive them as rivals.

· They both get really jealous if the other one gets flirted with for a certain amount of time. Takumi will just stew in emotions until Soma comes to calm him down. Soma will come up to the person trying to seduce his man. If it’s not a formal event, Soma will even wrap an arm around Takumi possessively. If it is, Soma would just make up an excuse to take Takumi away or just hover around him. But he’s always glaring at the other party.

· When it comes to intimacy, they are both switches. But Takumi is more into brat territory. Soma doesn’t mind the challenge, though. Also, Soma loves to tease Takumi, which Takumi pretends not to like.

· Takumi was raised in a richer environment than Soma. Even though his family was not as rich as the Nakiris, he could afford to buy fancier clothes and ingredients without looking too much at the price tag. As shown in the series, Soma is a bargain hunter. It bothers him when he and Takumi go shopping and Takumi is just placing expensive stuff in the basket. Several arguments and compromises have come from that.

· They both love children and would not mind adopting a child, but they don’t because they travel a lot. The main reason why they adopt Ciro is because of an emergency. (Long backstory that I might write about one day.)

· Because of the adoption, they severely limit their travels in order to be better parents to Ciro.

· They also adopt a Mastiff/Great Dane mix that Ciro found as a puppy in the streets. Takumi loves dogs as well and they were able to convince Soma to let them keep her. (Her name becomes Coffee, by the way.)

· Eventually, Soma brings up the suggestion to move to Italy, even though he would be moving away from his beloved restaurant. But he sees how big Coffee is getting, the rest of the Aldini family pressuring them to move, how much easier and better it would be for Ciro to be closer to family, and how happy Takumi is every time they visit his home country. (Soma really loves making Takumi happy.) They end up moving not too far from the Aldini trattoria, visiting the Yukihira during school breaks and a little more often when Ciro finally goes to Totsuki.

· As the years go by, Soma and Takumi slowly stay more and more in their Italian home. Soma grew to love the country and he did not have the heart to move Takumi away from Italy.

#asks #food wars #shokugeki no soma #aldini takumi #yukihira soma #soutaku

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i-just-like-to-see-you-happy · 3 years

Text

In Another Life

So this is a bit of a story I wanted to do but will probably never finish. I thought you all might want to see it even though it’s not done. It has a beginning and an end, and a bit of a middle. So you can still kinda get the gist.

The premise is that Luke and Lorelai are plucked from their own timeline circa "Take the Deviled Eggs" and dropped in the middle of the civil war-era. November 2003/June 1766-May 1767

Oh and it even has two playlists, because three-years-ago-me was extra: In Another Life (orchestral soundtrack), and In Another Life (thematic soundtrack)

She frowned at him. “Luke?”

He nodded at her. “Miss Gilmore.”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“Like what?” He asked.

Lorelai pointed at his clothes. “Like you're the eighteenth century you. Did Taylor finally get to you?”

Luke gaped at her. “Are… are you talking about Taylor Doose?”

She scoffed at him. “Of course I'm talking about Taylor Doose, what other Taylor do you know?”

"No, I meant-" He sighed. "Taylor Doose, town selectman?"

"Yes."

"Of Stars Hollow."

"Again, yes. Did you hit your head or something? Are you okay?"

“Lorelai, look around.” Luke said in a low voice. “What do you see?”

Lorelai rolled her eyes, but looked around like Luke asked. “I see… stables. Horses. Trees. I'm sorry, is there something I should be looking for?”

“How about cars? Power lines? Electric lights? Any trace of technology, anywhere?”

Lorelai frowned. Luke was right. There wasn't anything like that. She even reached into her pocket, where her cellphone should have been.

“Impossible.” Lorelai muttered, and checked the other pocket. “This is impossible.”

“That's what I thought.” Luke said, looking grave. “I thought it was just a dream, until I burned my hand earlier.”

“How did you do that?”

“I was working.”

“You work a lot in your dreams?”

“You'd be surprised.” He muttered. “Anyway, once I got burned and I didn’t wake up, I knew that something was seriously weird.”

“So you came out here to talk to me?”

“No, I came out here cause Rory brought me a message from you, saying that there was a broken door latch that needed fixed, so apparently whenever we ended up, I'm still you're go to guy for repairs.”

“Wait, whenever? As in-”

“Welcome to seventeen-sixty-six.”

Lorelai sat heavily on the porch, and Luke sat next to her.

"Seventeen-sixty-six!”

"Yup."

"As in one seven six six?"

"Yes."

"The year seventeen seventy-six?"

"Yes."

“How?!”

“Not a clue.” Luke said. “All I know is, I woke up this morning, and I wasn't in my apartment. Got dressed in the clothes I assumed were mine, went downstairs. Turns out, I own and run a restaurant.”

“Well, somethings just don't change.” Lorelai said. “So, who am I here? Where are we?”

Luke smiled at her. “You’re still Lorelai Gilmore, near as I can tell. You're the owner of the Dragonfly Hotel.”

“I- I... I own an inn?!”

“I thought you’d be pleased.”

“I own an inn?” Lorelai repeated. “What about Sookie?”

Luke shrugged. “Don’t know. Jess only mentioned you.”

Lorelai did a double take. “I’m sorry, did you say Jess?”

Luke nodded. “Yeah, he lives with me. Been living with me for a while, apparently.”

“What about his mom?”

Again Luke shrugged. “Don’t know. I figure that however this happened, if I’m still me and Jess is… well, still Jess, then Liz must not be too different either.”

“So Jess is still… Holden Caufield."

"Dean." Luke said suddenly.

"Or James Dean, sure."

"No, Dean." Luke said, pointing. "Forester."

Lorelai looked up. Sure enough there was Dean. He approached them, and greeted them politely. "Miss Gilmore. Mr. Danes."

"Dean." Lorelai said. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I thought I'd call in on Rory before I got to work. Is she here?"

"No, she went to the bookstore in Litchfield." Luke said.

"Oh. Okay." Dean looked crestfallen. "I guess I'll get to work then."

Lorelai held her tongue until Dean was out of hearing range. "So. There's still a Dean."

"Apparently."

"And a Jess."

"Definitely."

"Wow." Lorelai said. "Wait, you said... seventeen-sixty-six.”

"Yes, I did."

"But Stars Hollow wasn't established until..."

"Seventeen-seventy-nine, I know."

"So, we're not in Stars Hollow."

"Nope." Luke said. "I live in Litchfield, which is about a forty minute walk away from here."

"And where's here?"

"A little place called Harristown."

"Harristown?" Lorelai questioned. "I've never heard of it."

"I'm not surprised. It's on the outskirts of where Stars Hollow is today. Or will be, anyway, two hundred and some years from now."

Lorelai rested her head in her hands. "My head is spinning."

"My uncle isn't feeling to great today. He's been a little confused."

"My mom too." Rory said. "It must be something in the air."

"Must be." Jess said. "So, what did you find to read today?"

"Robinson Crusoe." Rory handed him the book. "Ever read it?"

Jess examined the cover carefully. "Parts of it. Never owned a copy, so I haven't read it all the way through. Wanted to."

"You can borrow it when I'm done reading it if you like." Rory offered.

"In exchange for?" Jess asked.

"In exchange for nothing." Rory said. "You said you wanted to read it, and you can. When I'm done with it."

She reached for the book, but Jess pulled it away. "How about if we take turns reading it out loud while we walk? That way, we both get started reading it and we don't have to keep talking."

Rory didn't look happy, but she consented. "Fine. But I want that book back when I get home."

Jess smirked at her. "As you wish."

(a flashback to when Jess and Rory met for the first time)

Jess quoted, from memory. "My young Readers, Before you begin the following Sheets, I beg you will stop a Moment at this Preface, to consider with me, what is the true Use of Reading; and if you can once fix this Truth in your Minds, namely, that the true Use of Books is to make you wiser and better, you will then have both Profit and Pleasure from what you read."

Rory stopped, and turned about face. "You've read 'The Governess'!"

Jess shrugged. "A few times."

"I've yet to meet another person who's read it, let alone a boy of your age." Rory said. "I thought you said you didn't read."

He shrugged again. "I said I hadn't read much. But what I have read, I've read a fair amount of times.

Rory set back on her way. "Then you lie!"

Jess jogged along to keep pace with her. "I didn't lie so much as I interpret the question differently than you did. You asked if I read much, I took it to mean if I had read very many books. But given your response, the question you were asking was how much time I spent reading."

"I... I suppose." Rory admitted.

"Then how could I answer correctly a question you yourself failed to ask?"

Rory stopped suddenly once more, and answered slowly. "That's a fair enough question. You have my apologies.”

"I accept." Jess said. "So, did you still want to ask?"

"Since you already know the question I want to ask, then why don't you simply answer it?" She asked.

"Very well." Jess agreed. "I read much of the time, when I'm not studying or working for my uncle. I'd much rather read than do most things."

Rory smiled at him. "Then we seem to have much in common."

Lorelai crumpled on the ground next to the hollow oak, not caring any longer if her dress became dirty. She took a shaky breath in, trying to calm herself, but only managed to fall apart even more. She let out a ragged sob, followed by another. And another. She buried her face in her arms, and let herself cry. It was only when someone spoke that she realized that she wasn't alone.

"Lorelai?"

She looked up, and saw Luke. She desperately tried to wipe the tears away from her face, but more fell. Luke said nothing, but quickly moved to sit next to her, and took her in his arms, holding her close. She let him, and opened her mouth to speak, only to let out another sob. She hugged him back, tightly, and he held her closer still as she cried into his shirt. After a while, she calmed, and they stayed like that for a while.

"So how was your day?" Lorelai deadpanned.

"Lorelai, what happened?" Luke asked gently.

She shrugged. "Oh, nothing. Just that 18th century Emily Gilmore is a lot crueler than 21st century Emily Gilmore."

She didn't think that he could hold her any tighter, but he did.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I heard people talk, but... I never thought it would be this bad."

She sniffled. "No, neither did I."

"Why do you think we're here?" Luke said. "Why now? Why like this?"

"I don't know." Lorelai said. "Maybe we did something and pissed off the wrong, sadistic god."

"Maybe."

"There is one good thing here, though."

"What's that?"

"You." Lorelai sniffed again. "Seriously. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here."

"You would've figured it out." Luke said softly. "You're capable of anything, including figuring out how to navigate this crazy, backward place."

She let go of him reluctantly, and looked up to his face. She spoke softly. "You're still the best thing here, Luke."

Luke opened his mouth to speak, but could say nothing. He just looked down at her, still holding her. She was still looking up at him. And slowly, hesitating, she brought her hand up to caress his cheek, and let the other rest on his chest. He moved one of his hands to the back of her neck, and gently pulled her closer, until they could feel each other's breath on their faces. Then slowly, sweetly, Luke kissed her. She kissed him back, wrapping her arm around him once again. They pulled apart, and rested their warmed cheeks together.

"Is this really happening?" Lorelai breathed.

Luke swallowed. "God, I hope so."

"Promise me that if this does end up being a dream, you'll never forget this." Lorelai said, a little louder.

Luke hugged her closer, burying his face in her neck. "Never. I could never forget this."

Lorelai woke in her own bed, still partly dressed. She laid there, remembering her dream. Luke, the hollow oak, the stars. Sweet, soft, kisses that comforted her more than anything he could have said.

She opened her eyes, a lump forming in throat. It was just a dream, she thought. Nothing but a dream. Nothing's changed.

She sat up when Sookie came into the room, carrying a tray full of food. "Morning, hon."

"Hey, Sook." Lorelai said.

"How are you feeling?" Sookie asked sympathetically. "You had kind of a rough day yesterday."

"Yeah, I guess I did." Lorelai took the coffee that Sookie offered her. "Hey, how'd I get back yesterday, the last thing I remember I was out in the forest."

"Luke brought you back. You don't remember?" Sookie asked.

"Uh, no." Lorelai frowned.

"I'm not surprised, you were so exhausted. If Luke hadn't offered to carry you up the stairs, you would have had to sleep on the couch in your office. Not very comfortable."

"Uh, no, it would not have been." Lorelai said. "When did he bring me back?"

"Oh, it was late." Sookie said. "He didn't want to walk back to Litchfield in the dark, so he's still here. Did you want to talk to him?"

"Oh, uh, maybe."

"Well, in that case, you eat your breakfast, then we'll get you prettied up." Sookie said.

"Why'd you say it like that?" Lorelai said.

"You should have seen the way he was looking at you."

"Which was how?"

"Like you were his whole life." Sookie said quietly. "He changed his expression as soon as he thought someone was watching, but I know what I saw."

Luke felt his heart racing. "Lorelai..."

They met in the middle, hands meeting bodies as lips kissed. Soft, sweet kisses turned hot, passionate, and hurried. Lorelai eagerly tugged Luke's shirt from under his belt, and he stilled her hands, placing his own over them.

"Wait, wait." He said. "Are you sure?"

"Luke." She sighed. "I woke up thinking that holding you in my arms and kissing you would only happen in my dreams. And then I find out, for whatever... inexplicable reason that it wasn't just a dream. And if that isn't a goddamned miracle, I don't know what else is. Now, I don't know about you, but I would very much like to enjoy my miracle."

He grinned at her. "Well, when you put it like that..."

(At some point the the storyling, Jess disappeared apparently??)

"You said Jess and Dean came to blows." Lorelai said cautiously.

Luke immediately shook his head. "No. I don't care what world we live it, Dean couldn't- he wouldn't."

"Okay, forget I said anything." Lorelai said quietly.

(upon Jess’ return)

"Jess, they dragged the river after you left!" Luke shouted. "Do you know how scared I-"

Luke covered his face and turned around. Jess just stood there. Luke sighed and turned back around.

"Jess, you can't just take off like that." Luke said. "You can't... You just can't. You tell me when you're leaving, you tell me where you're going, so I don't have to think about you maybe lying dead somewhere!"

Jess stood there silent for a few minutes more, before whispering- "I'm sorry."

"You bet your ass you're sorry." Luke said. He sighed, and really looked at him. "Are you okay? You didn't get hurt, you're not sick?"

Jess shook his head.

"Did you find out if your mom's okay?" Luke asked.

Jess shrugged. "She's the same."

Luke nodded, not really surprised. He sighed again. "Come 'ere."

Jess stepped closer, and was surprised when Luke pulled him into a hug, and hesitated a few moments before slowly hugging him back.

"You tell me where you are, okay?" Luke said. "Send me a letter or something, I don't care. Just let me know you're... Let me know you're still alive, for god sakes."

"I will." Jess said. his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry."

(After... sometime followed their aforemention... interlude)

"Not here." Lorelai whispered, and took him by the hand. She lead them to the barn.

"Lorelai, where are we going?" Luke said. "What's this about?"

"Not here." She said again.

"What, are you afraid the horses are going to hear?" Luke said.

She glared at him. "No, I just want to talk somewhere private, that's all."

"This is crazy." He muttered, but followed her up the ladder to the hay loft. She laid out a blanket for them to sit on.

"Lorelai, what's this about?"

"Well, you know that thing in history where they'd see if you were pregnant by injecting some of your blood into a rabbit, and if you were pregnant, it would die?"

"Yes." Luke said, completely mystified.

"Well, not to put it too finely, but... the rabbit's dead." Lorelai said.

"Ok-ay?" Luke said. "What rabbit?"

"My rabbit." Lorelai said nervously.

"Your rabbit?" Luke said.

"Yes, my rabbit is dead. It's dead and buried." She sighed. "This was so much easier in 1984, I just showed Chris the stick and he got it."

"What are you talking about, what sti-" Luke's words stopped there, and his eyes got huge as he finally registered what she was talking about. "Oh."

"And there it is." Lorelai said.

"Oh my god." Luke breathed. "You're pregnant?"

"Yeah, I'm- I'm pregnant." Lorelai nodded.

"Oh my god." He said again quietly.

"You keep saying that." Lorelai said. "Is that a good 'oh my god', or a what-have-I-got-myself-into 'oh my god'-"

Luke pulled her into his lap and kissed her. He kissed her lips, and her cheeks and the rest of her face until she was grinning.

"Okay, I'm guessing that it was a good 'oh my god'." She mumbled.

"Very good." He kissed her again.

"So... you're happy about this?" Lorelai asked.

"Yes, of course I'm happy! Aren't you happy?"

"Of course I am." Lorelai said. "And even happier that you are too."

(And a heartbreaking return to the Real World)

"Never. I could never forget this."

Lorelai woke, clutching her pillow for dear life. She could remember the whole thing vividly. Her inn, Rory, Dean, Jess.

Luke.

She sat up, and looked around. She was home again, back in the age of technology. She realized she was still clutching the pillow across her belly.

The baby.

She threw her pillow aside and touched her stomach. She knew instinctively that there was nothing there, but still she had to check. She rushed to her bathroom and pulled out the box that she kept there for emergencies, because there was no way she was going to wait to drive anywhere to get them, and she certainly wasn't going to buy them in Stars Hollow.

She already knew what the answer was going to be, and didn't want to look. But she did anyway.

No baby.

No Luke.

Today seemed like a good day to wallow.

(SIDENOTE: not a miscarriage! I realized I that I didn’t make that clear in the text, but I swear, it’s not a miscarriage. Through historical/time travel/dream logic, the baby just doesn’t exist in the “future”)

"Never. I could never forget this."

Luke sat bolt upright in bed, reaching out for a body that wasn't there. Once he came fully awake, he sighed. He was back in his apartment, above his diner. It had simply been a dream.

Everything came back to him all as once. Lorelai, the town, Jess, Rory, falling asleep under the stars, holding Lorelai in his arm. Feeling their baby kick against his palm.

Their baby. Their dream life.

Never had he wanted to cry more than that moment.

Luke seemed grumpier than usually that morning.

Just Rory came in that morning. Luke wasn't sure if he were more upset or grateful. He went to take her order.

"Where's your mom today?" He asked gruffly.

"She's at home. Something happened, but she won't tell me what." Rory said.

Luke immediately became concerned. "What do you mean something happened?"

Rory shrugged. "I don't know. She said she wasn't feeling good, and called in sick to work. But..."

"What is it, Rory?" He asked.

"It doesn't really seem like she's sick, more like... she's wallowing."

"Wallowing?"

"Yeah, like when you get sad about something, like a break up, and you just stay home, watch movies, and eat junk." Rory said. "But I didn't even think she seeing with anybody."

"Well, she's gonna be okay." Luke assured her. "She always is."

"I guess."

"Ready to order?"

Luke knocked on Lorelai's door. She answered, clearly surprised to find him there. "Luke!"

"Hey, I know you weren't expecting me, but, uh, Rory said you weren't feelin' too good, so I thought I'd bring you a care package."

"Thanks, Luke. That means a lot." She smiled at him, somewhat sadly. After a second, she added, "Would you like to come in?"

He did, despite the part of his brain telling him that it was a bad idea.

"So, what happened?" Luke asked curiously. "You just woke up feeling sick, or what?"

"No, nothing like that, I just..." She hesitated. "I know it sounds stupid, but I had this... really, really amazing dream, and- well, anyway, I woke up, and realized the dream wasn't real, and I guess I'm just..."

"Wallowing." Luke finished.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah, I know how that feels." Luke admitted. "Same thing happened to me, too. Been crabby all day."

"Bummer."

"Yeah." Luke said. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to your movie."

"Sure you can't stay?" She offered. "We could be miserable and crabby together."

He smiled at her. "As much fun as that sounds, I gotta get back to the diner."

She smiled back. "Well, thanks for the food. You're still the best thing here."

He frowned at her.

"You're still the best thing here, Luke."

"What did you say?" Luke asked abruptly.

"I said thank you. Did you not catch it the first time?"

"No, after that." Luke said. "What did you say after that?"

"You're the best thing here?" Lorelai said. "What about it?"

"Nothing, I just..." He shook his head. "Never mind. Enjoy your food."

Luke turned around and headed for the door, but hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. He swallowed hard, and walked back into the living room. She looked up at him. "Did you forget something?"

"No, I..." He inhaled, throwing caution to the wind. "Actually, I promised that there was something I would never forget."

Lorelai's jaw dropped. She blinked. And then she blinked again. Luke waited anxiously. He'd expected some kind of reaction. Whether she would just blow the whole thing off, or just laugh, he didn't know, but he certainly didn't expect dead silence.

"Lorelai?"

"The oak." She said flatly, and Luke's heart soared.

"The hollow oak." He said urgently. "Where we-"

"Watched the stars." Lorelai finished, whispering. "Oh my god."

"Lorelai."

Luke crossed the room and kissed her, and she kissed him back fiercely. Luke touched her face, and felt tears. He pulled away from her to look at her, and she placed a hand over her belly. She bit her lip, and looked up at him sadly.

"The baby-" She tried to explain tearfully. "I don't- It's not-"

"I know." He murmured, and pulled her into a tight hug. "I know, I know, I know..."

When Rory came home that evening, she was greeted with a completely different Lorelai than the one she'd left that morning.

"Mom, what's-" She looked in the kitchen. "Is Luke here? Is he cooking?"

Lorelai wrapped her arm around her daughter, and lead her into the living room.

"Hey, hon, do you want to hear about my dream last night?"

#Gilmore Girls #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls fanfic #gilmore girls historical au #luke x lorelai

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fangirlings-things · 4 years

Text

↠THE LAST KINGDOM PREFERENCE: THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY ARE IN LOVE WITH YOU

I've been editing this over and over again to try and make this as perfect as I can, hope you guys like it xx

credits are in the gifs except for those:

Alfred → @northbndtrain

Edward → @cheapcakeripper

Aldhelm → @titaniae

Ragnar → could not find the owner, if it's yours please, tell me so I can give you credit

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Uhtred of Bebbanburg → He would realize how he felt about you, sadly, only after being taken as a slave. Before, he blamed his body for the things you made him feel. But being so far away, with the perspective of never seeing you again, made him make peace with the fact that his heart was actually feeling for you, not only his body. The smile you placed on his lips without even trying to, how you looked at him. The memories of you would keep him strong until he finally got free and met you again.

“I can not believe you are here” you placed your hands on his cheeks, smiling as tears clouded your vision. After so much time, you thought you would never see him again. “I can not believe”

He was tired, thin and weak, but he found inside himself the strength to pass his arms around your body and bring you closer to him in a tight hug. “I love you. I love you. I love you” he repeated it against your ear like a prayer to the gods.

You did not pull away. You just squeezed him even more tightly and swore to yourself to never let him out of your sight again. You would follow that warrior to wherever his path lead him. “I love you too, Uhtred. I love you so much”

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Finan → He would realize he loved you during an ordinary night, where you made camp on the woods during one of your travels with Lord Uhtred. He had lay down before everyone, feeling tired after supper. From under the furs, he was having a hard time sleeping because of how all your laughs and voices echoed through the trees around. Finan focused his eyes on you and saw you throw your head back in laughter at something Osferth had said, the others accompanying you right afterwards. It warmed his heart, to see you so happy and comfortable. Those shivers running through his body and the sweet thoughts on his mind were not usual. He knew he was in trouble. He more than liked you. He loved you.

“I thought you were asleep already” you said in a low tone, as you lay down on your own furs, that you had placed before beside his.

“I could not sleep, you all did not stop talking for even a second” he said looking at you and the little attitude in his voice made you laugh.

“We are sorry, Irishman" you laid down and pulled the furs over your body. Sighting in satisfaction, you saw that he was still looking at you but now smiled, in a way that made his eyes shine under the fire’s light. “What?”

“Nothing” he cleaned his throat and tried to take the smile out of his lips. “Goodnight” and then he turned to the other way so that you could not see his face.

You smiled, confused. “Goodnight, Finan”

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Sihtric → He would realize he is in love with you after you saved him during one of the many battles you fought together. He had been surrounded, under many blows from both axe and sword from different warriors and you had bravely made your way towards him. Together, you eliminated the danger. The fact that you helped him, saved his life, showed him that you actually cared for him. Deeply.

“Thank you” he said, still out of breath. Blood had spilled on his face and now it ran down his features. His armor was compromised here and there. Thankfully you had got to him in time.

“Just watch your back, Dane” you winked at him and then got back to the fight. He watched, amazed, as you moved gracefully through the battle field, swinging your blade in the air.

He swore an oath to Odin, the Allfather in that moment. He swore that if he got out alive of that battle, he would tell you how he felt. The perspective of your reaction to that kept him going.

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Osferth → He would realize his feelings for you during a sparring session between the both of you. Lord Uhtred had make an ironic comment about how the both of you needed more training and so you decided to train a bit in a lazy afternoon in the fields. Your swords met over and over again, metal on metal as your eyes kept on fixed on each other. The movements, the glances, the sweat on your bodies. All that made him have thoughts he shouldn’t have, feel things he shouldn’t. But then, what was the point in denying it?

“Alright, this is it. I am done for the day” you chuckled, dropping your sword in the grass only to lay down on it right afterwards. You tried to steady your heavy breathing, eyes on the bright sky.

"Already?" Osferth seemed a bit upset for having to stop so soon on the afternoon.

"We have been doing this for hours" your argument made him sight, but he dropped his sword as well. "Not everyone has your energy, monk"

"Fine" he laid down beside you. "But will we do this again tommorow?"

You smiled. "Yes, of course. Otherwise, Lord Uhtred will kick us from his service"

You both chuckled together.

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Alfred → He would discover his feelings for you after falling ill once more. His wife would be too busy taking care of the realm and keeping the Lords of the Witan under control, so you would be the one taking constant care of him. Never leaving his side, yours would be the face Alfred when see when coming in and out of consciousness. He would feel blessed by the view of you, and he would feel better whenever you had a wet cloth on his forehead, having you so close to him.

"Are you feeling better, my King?" you asked him in a low tone, not wanting to disturb him as you changed the furs in his bed. That was unnecessary, but you did it only to not be just staring at him, like you deeply wanted to. The sight of him was always welcome to you.

"A little, yes" his voice was weak, but he forced his own lips to curl up a bit in a smile. He was the one ill and for some reason, he was trying to comfort you. "All because of your good care. Thank you, (Y/N)"

"It is just my duty, my Lord" you went by the bed to put him a cup of water but as you passed, he found inside himself the strength to grab your forearm gently, making you stop. He looked up at you with almost adoration in his eyes.

"Even so, even if you are doing this only because it is your duty as a servant, I thank you" he felt the warmth of your skin, and that made him sight in satisfaction.

You suprised him by sitting at the edge of the bed, holding his hands on yours and looking inside his eyes with much significance. "I am not doing this only because of duty, Lord. I asked to be the one taking care of you"

Alfred smiled. There was no words he needed to say, not then. When he got better, he would tell you how he felt.

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Aethelflaed → She would find out how she really felt about you when she overhead you defending her towards Aethelred. The way you spoke to your King, fearless and in such urgency on her behalf, that would amaze her and make her feel scared for you, because she better than anyone knew how cruel that man could be. The feelings seeing that awakened in her would not leave any soon.

"You should not have done that" she said, sitting you down at one of the wooden chairs in her room. Your blood had stained the front of her clothes, since she had to practically carry you there.

"Someone had to" your voice was barely more than a whisper. Your whole body ached from the kicks and punchs you had taken.

"I can protect myself" she got a wet cloth and started to clean the blood from your skin.

"I never said you couldn't" your breath hissed when he pressed the cloth to an open wound on your shoulder. "I just... felt the need to do something. I had to"

"Why?" Aethelflaed asked, stopping the cleaning and looking deeply inside your eyes. You quickly averted yours from hers, as a blush took a hold of your cheeks. The unsaid words made her smile. "Thank you, for doing that"

"I would do it all over again, Milady"

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Edward → He would find out how he felt about you after you gave him a couple of encouragement words, filled with kindness and advice. Becoming King placed such weight on his shoulders, having to face all the criticism of the Witan and the people, that to hear someone supported and had expectation for greatness on his realm, that would make him feel extremely good and more confident.

"You are going to be a great King, my Lord. The Lords of the Witan will regret their behavior and fall on their knees in front of you, seeking penitence" you smiled at him as you said so, trying to reassure him after a great discussion of the council.

"I hope you are right" he looked out of the closest window, sighting as his eyes met the horizon of Wessex. "I have to honor my father's memory. I cannot fail"

"You will not" you walked towards him and placed a hand on his arm, slowly. "Edward" he instantly looked at you, because you only called him by his name on rare occasions, and he loved to hear it. "You will not fail. I can assure you that"

The young King smiled. "Thank you for having such faith in me"

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Aldhelm → He would realize how he felt about you during a three day ride to Wessex, in Aethelred's name. Winter were upon you and the nights were getting extremely cold, so you both decided to share your furs and sleep together, close to the fire. Have you so close, sharing such an intimate moment, would make him feel more than just attraction. Would make him think that he wanted to wake up by your side everyday, cuddle you in your sleep. He wanted not just youe body, but you completely.

"The King is an idiot" you said, your teeth clenched in cold. You had pulled up the furs over both of your bodies and tried to sleep, but failed. "If we die of cold here, he will have lost both of his closest advisors"

"We will not die here, (Y/N)" Aldhelm smiled a little by your words, amused to hear you talking in such a way of Aethelred who was, in no doubt, a fool.

"Are you sure? I can feel my blood freezing in my veins" you said and when a breeze hit you, you instantly got closer to Aldhelm and placed your head on his chest, trying to warm yourself up.

He passed his arms around you and squeezed you tightly against himself. The warmth of him made you feel slightly better. "You will not freeze. Not while I am here to warm you up"

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Ragnar → He would realize he loved you when you faced alone a few warriors who were questioning his leadership. He saw you screaming and shouting at them, youe hand on your sword as you spoke on his behalf loud and clear, for everyone to hear. To see the warriors afraid of you, of how much ferocity and determination you had, would make him smile to himself and go to you later, to thank you.

"I am grateful for what you did there" Ragnar sat by your side in the grass, incapable of taking that loving smile out of his lips. "Facing all those men alone"

"They had it coming. No one should ever question your leadership. You are a great warrior, and a great man" you did not look at him, feeling a little embarrassed to do so. He always made you feel nervous.

"Such a great man could perhaps someday have your heart?" his question got you completely by surprise and he chuckled at your expression. "I am sorry, if the idea does not please you"

"No, no" you instantly said, making him frown in confusion. Your own lips then curled up in a smile. "The idea makes me feel such joy, that I cannot even explain"

Ragnar chuckled again, one of those confident chuckled that had your heart beating faster inside your chest. "I am glad to hear that"

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lovelylogans · 3 years

Text

the danes family christmas

or: the danes-sanders-prince-tamura-cabrera-key-bowes christmas. but danes family christmas flows a bit easier, doesn’t it?

part of the wyliwf verse.

warnings: food mentions, mentions of divorce, mentions of sickness, alcohol consumption, please let me know if i’ve missed any!

pairings: patton/virgil, logan/roman

word count: 5,876

notes: hi! this is just a quick little fic. happy christmas, a belated happy hanukkah, and a happy early kwanzaa! if you don’t celebrate any of those, then happy friday! this is essentially a “where are they now” snapshot of the danes family, who were all introduced in last year’s christmas fic. i hope you enjoy!

⁂

it starts when virgil hangs up the phone at the diner—the landline against the wall right by the entry to the kitchen, not his cellphone—looking strangely happy. and, considering there were only ever two kinds of phone calls that phone received, one of which being business calls—

“mom or dad?” patton asks, as he sits at the counter.

“my mom,” virgil says. “freddie finally got the flights finalized, they’re coming for christmas.”

patton claps in excitement. “that’s great!”

“so that’s everyone,” virgil says brightly. “all five of us, plus spouses and partners and kids, ‘cept—”

and then he stops himself, tilts his head, and asks, “hey, what are your christmas plans?”

⁂

and so it begins—patton negotiates them out of attending any sanders’ christmas celebrations, in exchange promising to bring himself and logan and the new beaus (as his mother had called them) to a cocktail get-together on new year’s eve.

and then virgil had caught on to the fact them all leaving would leave roman and isadora as the only ones in their little cobbled-together family in sideshire for christmas, and freddie had, too, and immediately gotten on the phone to beg isadora to come along, so that meant crafting an elaborate plan for a road trip on christmas after the matinee christmas morning performance of the nutcracker, which is where they are now: all five of them in virgil’s car, suitcases packed away in the trunk, on their way down to the elder danes’ family home.

oh, and in the middle of all these preparations, not one but two romantic unions were formed, so. it’s been a bit of a busy couple of months.

“okay,” roman says, from where he’s stuffed in the middle seat between logan and his mom, virgil driving and patton attempting to play at navigator, “run me through the entire family tree again, it’s been a minute since i’ve seen everyone.”

so logan opens his phone, scrolls for a little bit, then clicks on a photo they must have taken the last time they were all together in a big group, and zooms in before he hands the phone over to roman to hold. roman’s mom peers over his shoulder.

“so, we’ll start with the danes’,” logan says, and taps each of their faces as he goes—”meredith, mark, wyatt, esther, silas, winifred, and of course, virgil.”

“right.”

he then proceeds to tap the woman and man flanking wyatt. “adam bowes and alexandria cabrera, but she goes by lexa—”

isadora tilts her head at lexa. “i remember her. isn’t she colombian?”

“her parents immigrated from ecuador,” virgil corrects, “but she studied abroad for a bit in colombia, so you’re probably remembering that.”

“—they’re wyatt’s partners,” logan continues, and points to the children in front of them. “nicola’s oldest, she’s fourteen. then there’s wesley, who goes by wes, he’s twelve. is their dad going to be there?” he asks virgil.

“no, he’s off with his girlfriend,” virgil says, and scowls a little. patton thinks he's clearly about to say good riddance—he isn’t particularly a fan of lexa’s first husband. none of the adults are, really, but none of them ever breathed a word about it in front of the kids.

“all right, so i don’t have to find a picture of him,” logan says. “then there’s elizabeth who goes by ellie, eight, and abigail who goes by abby, five.”

roman mumbles names under his breath, tapping each of their photos, before he adjusts the picture. “right. so, essie.”

“you know annabelle, her wife,” logan says, pointing to the black woman with her arm slung over essie’s shoulders. “they were foster parents for a time, so they adopted michael who goes by mike or mikey, he’s twelve, and his sister sophia. she’s seven. and they also adopted theodore who goes by teddy, he’s eight—”

“—nine,” virgil corrects, “his birthday was last month—”

“right, he’s nine, they adopted him three years ago.”

more repetition of names to himself, and then roman adjusts the photo.

“silas,” he prompts.

“his wife, moira,” logan says, pointing to the redhead beside him. “and the twins, emma and devon, they’re ten.”

“they just had a baby in august, too,” virgil says. “meredith junior, but they’re calling her red, for now, so that no one confuses her and my mom. you can guess why, it’s pretty obvious she’s taking after moira already. it’ll be easy to spot her, she’s the only baby.”

“and freddie,” isadora says, craning her neck to look at the photo. “how long has it been since she’s come back for christmas?”

“at least a couple years just for christmas, but she’s visited a couple times,” virgil says. “still, it’ll be nice to see her and ryu and the kids.”

“akira who goes by kira, and nikko,” logan provides for roman. “they’re twins, age six. and sayuri, but she goes by lily sometimes—”

“how’d that happen?” roman says, looking to virgil for help.

“sayuri means ‘lily,’” virgil says. “‘little lily,’ i think, but i can’t remember the exact translation. she’s three.”

“and—where do they live?” roman says.

“tokyo,” patton says, twisting to look at virgil. “they moved last year, didn’t they?”

“that’s right,” virgil confirms. “they lived in kyoto for a while, but freddie got a pretty good job offer, so. tokyo it is.”

“and then there’s us,” logan says. “i assume you don’t need a photo, name, or age breakdown for any of us.”

roman snorts, and says, “no, i guess i not.” he blows out a breath, before he scrolls back over, and says, “right, okay. remind me what everyone’s jobs are?”

and so the rest of the car ride passes, recalling the last times they’ve all seen various members of the danes family and passing on stories of visits past.

it’s about to be a marathon of a christmas.

⁂

by the time they’re pulling up to the danes’ house—windows down, because the elder danes’ live in a much warmer state and everyone seemed to have a simultaneous, unspoken agreement on the need to thaw from the brutally cold and snowy winter they’d been having so far—virgil’s leg is bouncing in excitement, and patton reaches across to put a hand on virgil’s, smiling at him.

“are we the last ones getting here?” he asks.

virgil nods his head. “miraculously, even wyatt and adam’s weird hours have lucked out, but adam’s exact words were don’t hold your breath—”

“of course, of course,” patton murmurs, because he probably should have guessed the orthopedic surgeon and the spinal surgeon would have some funky hours.

“—but i think everyone should be here? at least i didn’t hear that they got delayed, so.”

“please tell me we’re almost there,” roman groans.

“we’ll get there when we get there!” virgil and patton say simultaneously, and they both laugh at each other quoting the incredibles as roman groans louder.

patton’s glad to have the brief distraction of a pixar reference; as they’ve gotten nearer and nearer to the danes’ house, he’s felt a knot in his stomach grow bigger and bigger.

he’s been spending holidays with the danes’ since logan was born, usually seeing at least one of them once a year—christmases, easters, family get togethers, he and logan have tagged along for years and years.

he has a feeling that virgil and his parents would argue with the phrasing of tagged along, but he can’t help it—even if he knows he’s uncle patton to all the kids, and he knows logan refers to all the various danes progeny as his cousins, and he knows he and logan have long since received the food-based nicknames everyone in the family receives upon being born in and growing up in the family and at marriage, but—

well. he can’t help it, sometimes.

but now, he isn’t just tagging along. he’s the latest romantic partner in the family. he has started dating their youngest son, their baby brother, their beloved bachelor uncle.

he can’t help but wonder if it’ll be like an entirely new dynamic. because he’s seen the way the latest romantic partners are introduced—he’s long since gotten used to the danes’ fond squabbling with each other, but it turns into a whole new level of teasing when they bring along a date.

“we are,” logan says, and points. “there it is.”

virgil examines the number of cars—he probably should have expected the full driveway—and pulls over to park on the side of the road, roman immediately demanding that either logan or his mother get out of the car right now or else he will crawl over them—

virgil and patton’s eyes meet, and patton smiles at him before they both turn to open their own car doors, roman getting out of the car hot on logan’s heels.

and then the danes’ front door opens, light spilling onto the lawn, and children barrel out of the house, almost all of them yelling at the top of their lungs, and virgil says “oof!” as he’s plowed into by three little girls, clinging at his legs, and virgil immediately swings the nearest up into his arms.

“oh, hello, everyone!” virgil says, beaming, looking years younger as ellie clings to his neck, and patton grins at him even as abby notices he has a free set of arms and immediately demands a hug, and patton can’t help but oblige, lifting her up onto his hip, distantly pleased that he still can carry her, because goodness, she’s gotten so tall!

“girls!” someone at the door calls, and patton looks up at lexa in the doorway with a grin. “let your uncles get inside before you tackle them, please!”

“aw, mom!” ellie grumbles, even as virgil’s setting her down and grinning apologetically at lexa, a hand resting on sophia’s hair.

“sorry, lex!” virgil calls, and pats ellie on the shoulder, murmuring something quietly to ellie and sophia ear that makes them both grin, brown eyes sparkling; patton follows his lead, setting abby down.

“uncle patty—” she begins to whine.

“i know, i know,” he says, crouching down to tug lightly at her braided dirty blonde hair, to make her giggle. “but, tell you what. if you listen to your mom, how about you and me sneak some cookies from your grandma, huh?”

abby brightens, and immediately rushes off, right on her sister’s and cousin’s heels.

“do you need any help?” adam says, his head popping out from behind lexa.

“no, we’re all right, thanks!” roman calls, isadora already shutting the trunk, all of their bags unloaded and just waiting to be carried inside—patton doubles back for his, but virgil’s already swinging his bag over his shoulder before patton can do anything about it.

“i could—” patton begins, but virgil leans down and kisses him before he can say anything about it. virgil grins even wider when patton just blinks at him, half-forgetting what he was saying.

“i got it,” virgil says reassuringly, “honestly, we’re gonna need someone to open the door, so,” and patton huffs.

“fine,” he grumbles, pretending to be put out, as the part of him that was raised with things like gentlemen should open the door for you, and carry things that are heavy, and care for you in general is sending butterflies fluttering in his tummy. because, one, virgil is being a gentleman, but also, patton has an opportunity to be a gentleman.

the things that give him gender euphoria are so weird, honestly.

but patton trots ahead and opens the door for virgil (and his son, and isadora, and roman) and is nearly bowled over by a wave of noise.

the sound of about twenty-four people all calling hello to their brother slash in-law and his weird little accrued pool of family all calling their hellos back tends to do that, patton guesses.

but once everyone’s funneled their way through the door, patton tries to close it; before he’s even fully shut the door behind them, though, abby’s clinging to his leg, grinning up at him.

“cookies now?” she asks.

patton tousles her hair. “gotta set up our alibi, squirt. we’re doing this secretly. it’s a mission.”

abby’s eyes brighten. “like spies?”

“exactly like spies,” patton says, in a hushed tone as if he’s being very quiet and secretive, as if he isn’t fully aware that her mother is keeping an eye on them and folding her lip under her teeth to keep from laughing, even as she’s hugging virgil hello.

abby scuttles off, though, as one of her other parents approaches to give patton a friendly, one-armed hug, seeming to fear the potential of revealing their secret mission.

“hey, patton,” adam says easily. “good to see you’re recovered from the pneumonia, congrats on romancing virgil,” patton blinks rapidly and attempts to come up with a response to that, but adam’s already continuing, “and try to keep her from taking too many, yeah? she’s already been spoiled rotten by her gramps today.”

“can do,” patton says, and so begins the shuffle around the room of saying hello to everyone; the kids are all in one section, already, seemingly preoccupied by various board games, but nicola’s unfolded herself from the group to go up to logan already; the pair of them are closest in age, and they’re also quite the pair of brainiacs, so they’ve been close ever since lexa and the kids came to the first family gathering years ago.

“i despise operator algebra,” she’s telling him.

“well, good thing you aren’t planning on going into quantum field theory, then,” logan responds, and patton loses the plot of that conversation because he’s nearly bumped off his feet.

“sorry!” freddie squeaks, red high in her pale cheeks and a glass of meredith’s near-lethal spiked eggnog in her hand; he suspects it to be the culprit for any uncharacteristic clumsiness and he pulls her into a hug even as he’s laughing out forgiveness.

“heard about you and virgil,” freddie says, “finally.”

“oh—um,” patton stammers, trying his hardest not to blush.

“thrilled to have you, really,” freddie says, bumping into him again, this time purposefully. “and, hey! heard you got sick, you’re all better now, right?”

“right,” he says, then, curiously, “um, how was the trip?”

“have you ever had to handle six-year-old twins on a trans-pacific trip?” she says, and patton winces in sympathy; as polite as the twins are, being raised with the japanese code of etiquette, they are still freddie’s kids, and therefore also incredibly rambunctious.

“my condolences,” patton tells her, then, to her husband who’s hovering silently over her shoulder, he attempts to get his way through saying long time no see in japanese to ryu, who’s been trying to teach them all conversational bits of japanese for years (mostly because they’d all insisted; they did the same to lexa, too. meredith’s parents had learned to greet mark’s family in their native italian, so it had become something of a family tradition to learn at least a little of the language of their spouse.)

“ohisashiburi desu,” ryu enunciates for him, and patton groans.

“i thought i had it this time!”

“you were close,” ryu says, which patton thinks is mostly out of politeness, but he’ll accept it anyways. “sayuri, say hello!”

he glances down, then, in time to notice a three-year-old clinging to ryu’s pantleg, just barely peeking out from behind him, the most visible thing being her near-black eyes, shiny and wide.

sayuri ducks out from behind ryu to bow to patton.

“and hello to you too!” patton says, keeping his voice as soft and friendly as he can.

sayuri looks up at ryu, who nods in approval, murmuring something to her in japanese, and she scampers back behind him, clinging once again to his pant leg.

“sorry,” freddie says, not sounding very sorry at all. “lily’s the shy one.”

“oh, it’s all right,” patton says. “it must have been a big day for her, traveling and seeing everyone again and all.”

“that it is,” freddie says, then, to ryu, “d’you think she needs a nap?”

patton takes that as his cue to resume greeting everyone else; he ducks briefly into the kitchen (where abby is, very unsubtly, eyeing the platter of cookies on the counter) and can’t help but coo at the sight that greets him.

“aw, hello,” he murmurs.

moira, her red hair pulled back into a ponytail and a smidge frizzy, looking haggard in a way that only parents to babies ever seem to look, smiles up at him. “hi, patton.”

“hi, patton,” silas echoes awkwardly, from where he’s washing dishes at the sink.

“hi, silas, hi moira,” he says; usually, he’d be all caught up in the amount of fondness he has for moira, distinctly unbalanced in comparison to his relationship with silas, which is still a touch thorny, even after all this time, but, well. there’s a new member of the family to introduce himself to.

“this must be meredith junior!”

meredith junior is preoccupied with drinking from a bottle, and does not respond to him, her eyes half-lidded and sleepy.

“that she is,” moira says proudly.

“oh, she’s beautiful,” patton says warmly, looking at her and feeling all warm and happy because Baby Feelings, and it reminds him of logan when he was at that age; meredith junior (red, he remembers virgil saying) is also a small baby, like logan was, her hair downy and just as red as her mother’s.

moira smiles at her. “yeah, she is. you wanna hold her later?”

“later,” patton repeats, putting up his hands. “i know how important feeding time is. i was just ducking in to say hi, get a drink,” he directs a wink at abby, who attempts to wink back at him, but she hasn’t really gotten the hang of that yet and so she just blinks at him with extra emphasis.

“eggnog’s in the fridge,” silas mutters. “solo cups should have a sharpie next to it, for names.”

“thanks, silas,” patton says, and ducks around him; he ends up pouring himself a bit of cranberry punch, instead, and obligingly writes PATTON on his cup in large letters. then, with a level of slightly overexaggerated sneakiness that goes unnoticed by moira, preoccupied with the baby, and silas, preoccupied with the dishes, patton snatches a stack of ginger snaps, which are just as good now as they were sixteen years ago. abby jumps up and down, pressing her hands over her mouth to keep from making any noise.

“well, i’m out of your hair.”

“we’re talking later!” moira calls after him, “i’m thrilled, i want to hear all about you and virgil!”

patton tries his very hardest not to blush, and ducks out of the kitchen instead. he splits the cookies in half, handing the other half to abby.

“thanks, uncle patty!”

“you’re welcome,” patton says. “hey, go give one to your sister, okay?”

“okay!” she says, and speeds off across the room. patton spies her handing a cookie to ellie and briefly tugging at nicola’s jeans to get her attention, giving her one too, and patton smiles after her, before he turns to scan the rest of the room for people he hasn’t said hi to yet.

he is immediately face-to-face with essie and annabelle, who beam at him in unison.

“patton!”

“annabelle, essie!” patton says, hugging the pair of them. “it’s great to see you!”

“great to see you too!” essie says. “we’ll have to get together sometime soon, you and virgil and us—”

“—we can do a double-date!” annabelle adds excitedly.

“—we can come to you, or you can catch the train down to us,” essie continues.

“oh—” patton says, a little flustered. “um—good! that’s good! that sounds—”

“good?” annabelle says, grinning, clearly very close to laughing at him.

looking for something in the room to change the subject, he glances around and notices, for the first time, two missing members of the family.

“where’s mark and meredith?”

“oh, mom ran out to the corner store for something, i think dad’s on the porch showing off the grill he got for the neighbors,” essie says dismissively, before she reaches over to squeeze his arm. “seriously. so thrilled for the pair of you, we have to do dinner soon.”

“sounds good,” patton says honestly, because it does; getting together with the pair of them, plus mikey, teddy, and sophia, sounds really good.

“i’m gonna go say hi to the kids,” he adds.

“okay!” essie says.

“we’ll catch up later,” annabelle says. it only sounds a little bit like a threat.

he doesn’t even really need to step too far to encounter the kids corner.

“hi, kids!” he says.

“hi, uncle patton,” the kids all drone, not tearing their eyes away; it seems the other board games have fallen to the wayside, the lot of them watching what seems to be the main event with bated breath.

“hello, patton,” wyatt echoes serenely, a pair of tweezers in hand as he observes the operation board. “i congratulate your immune system on its strength in overcoming the pneumococcal pneumonia, and i congratulate you on entering courtship with my brother.”

patton fails, this time, in trying not to blush, which probably wouldn’t be seen by any of the kids, anyways—“c’mon, uncle wyatt!” teddy urges from the sidelines—and wyatt flawlessly maneuvers the tweezers, and very slowly, very carefully, removes the wishbone without bumping any of the walls, and half the kids groan.

“i should have known better than to start this,” wes mutters under his breath, accepting the tweezers from his stepfather. “hi, uncle patton.”

“hiya, wes,” patton says, amused; at least once a year, someone challenged either of the surgeons in the family to a game of operation, and it always ended up with a crowd gathered around like this. “doing okay so far?”

“i’ve buzzed twice,” wes sighs, and squints at the card. “oh, great. i’ve got the funny bone. okay—”

he readjusts his grip, and patton takes a few steps back, so as to not distract him any more than he needs to be distracted, taking a second to look in on nicola and logan—who are deep into conversation about something called hermitian adjoint with excited expressions on their faces, and roman looks as confused as patton feels—before someone taps him on the shoulder.

“doing okay?”

patton turns to smile up at virgil.

“doing fine,” he promises, and sets his cup down on the nearest surface so he can reach out to correct virgil’s collar. “have you said hi to everyone?”

“yeah, just about,” virgil says, then, “um, they haven’t said anything to you about—?”

“oh, y’know,” patton says with a jerk of his head. “moira says she’s thrilled, essie wants to get all together for dinner, freddie said finally, wyatt congratulated the strength of my immune system and my success in courting you, et cetera, et cetera.”

virgil snorts, ducking his head and rubbing sheepishly at the nape of his neck. “guess i probably should’ve warned you ‘bout that, huh?”

“nah, i knew it’d probably happen,” he teases. “you’re forgetting i was at dinner when freddie brought the news of her elopement and the brand-new husband none of us had ever heard of before.”

“still can’t believe she did that,” virgil says with a disbelieving shake of his head.

patton laughs a little, too, before he says, “i was expecting it a little, i guess—i mean, you’ve got four older siblings, i was a little nervous there’d probably be a bit of hazing to go through, now that i’m a boyfriend.”

“you didn’t mention that,” virgil says with a frown. “i can tell them to lay off, if you—”

patton waves him off, even as he still feels the tight knot in his stomach.

“it’s okay,” he says, and it is okay, it’s just nerve-wracking, “i’ve gotten through the first of it, it’s okay. just, y’know. i’m a little nervous to talk to your parents, i guess.”

“they love you,” virgil says immediately. “they’re delighted about this, i promise, they told me so.”

“virge?”

“yeah?” he asks, a protective expression still on his face. patton takes both his hands in his own, looking up at him with a very serious expression on his face.

“remember your siblings teasing me when you have to sit through an emily-and-richard dinner,” he says, “and then we can say we’re nearly even.”

virgil’s lip quirks up. “nearly?”

“well,” patton says, “you’re probably gonna have to go to a few friday night dinners, so i’m definitely gonna owe you for that more than you owe me for this.”

virgil grimaces at the mention of friday night dinners looming in his future like the ghost of christmas yet to come.

“think happy thoughts?” patton offers, with an apologetic grin on his face.

“what thought is happy enough to get me through that?”

patton pretends to think about it, tilting his head back and forth, before he offers in a faux-innocent tone, “egging their car on easter?”

a slightly goofy grin breaks out on virgil’s face, and patton laughs at the sight of it.

“well, if i must,” virgil says. “might even have to refresh that memory with a repeat performance.”

“don’t you dare,” patton says, in a tone entirely too sappy for what he’s saying.

“or what?” virgil says, grinning down at him, and he’s so stinkin’ cute that patton can’t help but rise onto his tippy toes to kiss the grin right off his face.

their lips barely brush before the hollering starts—there’s a wolf-whistle in there somewhere, but mostly things along the line of “EW, uncle VIRGIL, kissing is GROSS,” and “hey, hey, hands off my baby brother!”—and patton breaks away from virgil with a nervous giggle, blushing, fully aware that if most of the people in the room weren’t looking at him before, they certainly were now. patton finds himself unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“oh, c’mon,” freddie says, grinning, sayuri in her arms and looking quite close to nodding off to sleep, “it’s about time, now that they’re dating.”

“finally,” essie adds, not quite under her breath, then—

“wait.”

patton turns, then, to where the kids have gathered in the corner; mikey, essie and annabelle’s oldest son, is staring at them with large brown eyes.

“wait,” mikey repeats, “what do you mean, now they’re dating?”

“you weren’t dating before?” his brother teddy says, sounding equal parts confused and indignant.

“no, we weren’t dating before,” virgil says. “but we—we are. now. so.”

teddy still looks puzzled.

“well, we loved each other for a very long time,” patton explains, because for as smart as all the kids are, teddy is nine years old, and therefore not quite fully aware of the complexities of adult relationships, “and we told each other that recently. so. now we’re dating, but we’ve loved each other for much longer.”

“well, that’s okay then,” teddy decides, and patton can’t help but snort.

anyone still staring at the pair of them gets distracted by the sound of a door stuck in its lock, before it suddenly bursts open, bringing with it a rush of warm outdoor air and the clunking of a cane hitting the hardwood.

“damn door keeps sticking,” mark grumbles under his breath, looking up and taking a moment to scan the room before his eyes brighten. “virgil! when did you sneak in, bunny?”

meredith pokes her head around his shoulder, eyes bright; she's carrying a shopping bag in one arm that emma and devon, silas' girls, scuttle up and take off her hands, ferrying it to the kitchen for her.

"ten or so minutes ago," virgil says, crossing the room, grinning; unspoken, both patton and logan fall into step behind virgil, approaching the danes family patriarch and matriarch together.

mark is already pulling his youngest son into a hug, squeezing virgil tight, and patton can't help but smile at the way virgil grips his father just as tightly; mark's had a bit of trouble with his health over the past couple years—primarily struggling with his knee, which had been replaced a month before thanksgiving this year—and patton knows it had scared him, at the time, and it made him all the more appreciative of the time he gets to spend with his father.

"good to see you, son," mark says warmly, patting virgil's back roughly a couple times for emphasis.

"snap," meredith says warmly, and patton grins—the ginger snaps he ate his weight in at the first danes christmas celebrations he'd ever attended have become his nickname namesake—before he approaches and pulls her into a hug.

"welcome," meredith says, pulling away, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "and congratulations are in order, aren't they?"

patton flushes, but before she can tease him anymore, mark's eyes land on logan.

"god, look at you!" mark says. "you're tall! how much have you grown? a foot? more? what on earth are you feeding him, virgil?" mark asks, turning to him, and virgil puts his hands up, smirking.

"i think i've grown four and a half inches, since the last time i saw you," logan says, before he steps forward and hugs mark, adding quietly, "it's good to see you, nonno."

patton's smile widens at that. emily and richard have always been grandma and grandpa, to logan, and maria, the previous manager at the inn who had taken in patton and logan, has been nana, but mark and meredith have always been nonno and nonna; grandpa and grandma in italian, where mark's family had emigrated from before mark was born.

"and it's good to see you, jammy," mark says, equally warmly, before he draws back, making eye contact with logan, and not having to tilt his head downwards anymore; they're almost on the same level now. "goodness. it'll take some time to get used to that. hit your growth spurt with a vengeance then, just like your dad—"

and then mark's eyes fall to patton, and patton smiles a little nervously, twisting his fingers together.

"hi, mark."

something in mark's eyes go soft, and he steps forward to hug patton just as tightly as he had hugged virgil and logan, to hold patton just as close, and patton isn't sure why his eyes are suddenly stinging, but they are, and he squeezes them shut and takes in a deep breath as he hugs mark back.

"we're overjoyed," mark says quietly, and draws back to look at patton, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes growing more pronounced with his smile. "oh, patton, we're so thrilled for the pair of you, truly we are. you've always been part of the family, but now—well," he says, and looks between virgil and patton.

"the pair of you, making each other happy," meredith says. "it's everything a mother could want for her boys."

patton struggles to swallow, and he can only smile guilelessly at them both as he waits for the lump in his throat to pass.

"now, we heard about your health scare after thanksgiving," mark says, frowning. "you're too young for such things. you're all better now, aren't you? all fixed up?"

"doctor says i am a-okay," patton manages to croak out.

"wonderful," meredith says, "and no more of any of that."

"you should remain hale and hearty, or else," mark adds, finishing her sentence; they've been married for so long, it's almost like they've become symbiotic.

"or else what?" patton says, achieving something close to his normal tone and not sounding like he's about to cry tears of happiness anymore.

"or else i'll set my wife on you," he says, before he claps logan on the back. "now, i hear that you have brought your boyfriend to meet the family!"

"you've met," logan says, beginning to blush, but he goes to get roman anyways; nicola coos "oooh," after the pair of them with all the teasing in her tone that one would expect from a younger cousin.

roman holds logan's hand as they approach.

"sir, ma'am," roman says respectfully, the picture of a proper young man; isadora looks on approvingly from where she's holed up in a corner with ryu, freddie, and a now-sleeping sayuri.

"this is roman prince, nonna, nonno," logan says, squeezing roman's hand tight and leaning into his side. "i love him very much."

mark's smile goes even softer at that; patton leans his head on virgil's shoulder, his cheeks aching.

"aw, shucks, specs," roman says, grinning at logan, "i love you very much too."

"well," mark says gently. "what grandparent doesn't like to hear that? we are very happy to have you and your mother, roman."

"come and sit," meredith says eagerly. "indulge two old crones in some conversation; i hear you want to take after your mother and go into ballet?"

and so mark, meredith, logan, and roman settle on the couch, logan still clinging to roman's hand and looking the most outwardly fond that patton has ever seen him look. it's enough to have the lump in his throat come roaring back with a vengeance.

virgil touches his shoulder, a silent question—you all right?

patton smiles at him and nods, before someone taps him on the arm, and he looks up.

"spouses club meeting," annabelle says, hooking her arm through his.

"what?" patton says.

"spouses club meeting," lexa repeats.

"i'm—i'm not a," patton says, blushing. he isn't the only one—he sees virgil going red, too. they've been dating for barely a couple weeks, that's very far off from—well—

"i'm not a spouse either, technically," lexa points out, "but that's what we're calling it anyways. virgil, we're stealing your boyfriend."

"do i have a choice in the matter?"

"nope!" lexa says cheerfully. "you, patton sanders, have gossip for us."

"goss—" patton repeats, frowning, before he looks to virgil. "oh—oh! lex, it isn't gossip, really—"

"not gossip, sure," annabelle scoffs. "it's only been ten years, we're getting the story—"

"steal him," virgil says immediately.

"traitor," patton cries out, softly enough so that it doesn't attract the attention of anyone else in the room; he'd gotten enough of that when he'd tried to kiss virgil.

"you aren't automatically immune, you've got siblings to deal with," annabelle tells virgil sweetly, and laughs when virgil pulls a face, suddenly looking younger, like the man in his early twenties that he had been their first christmas all together like this.

and so patton is tugged off into the kitchen, where adam, lexa, annabelle, moira, and ryu all sit, ready to hear the story of how they got together, and patton knows that the rest of their trip will be spent like this—being pulled off into subgroups, whether it be spouses, or kids, or siblings, or other arbitrary combinations that would happen on the fly. patton knows he'll spend the rest of the trip eating his weight in ginger snaps, and coming up with fun activities for the kids, and having a million different conversations with everyone, trying to organize how they'll be able to gather in smaller groups during the new year, and—

—and patton knows he's in for a very chaotic, very merry christmas.

#my post #text #my fic #sanders sides fanfiction #the sideshire files

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author-morgan · 3 years

Note

Would you please write some more Havi&Frigg? I adore these two, in mytology when I read about them I always think their relationship is so beautiful, so lively. 😊😁

here you are! sorry for the long wait, but i hope you enjoy it! ♥ plot idea from late-night convos with @angstygunslinger

m!Eivor x fem!Reader

THE KING OF the Æsir has many battles beneath his belt from the passing millennia. His victories too numerous to count. But there is one victory he has not been able to claim in all his years —for all his efforts, Havi has never been able to best his sweet Frigg. He claims you use the gift of foresight bestowed by the Nornir to stay one step ahead of him —a kinder way to say you cheat to win against him in physical battles and those of wit. This day is no different. Staring down the length of the training staff pressed into his gut, Havi’s gaze flicks up to meet yours, already accusing. “My queen resorts to trickery,” he notes as he rises. Huginn squawks his agreement from the right arm of his throne. Muninn only keeps a watchful eye trained on the contest.

“My love for you is no trick, dear Havi,” you refute, taking a step toward your husband, letting the training staff fall from your grasp. He follows your movements, moving closer to his queen when you lift a hand to his scarred cheek, smiling. Havi leans into the gentle touch, lips parting to exhale softly. Your fingers trail along his jaw —brushing through his golden beard, up along the scar cutting across his cheek, and further to the eyelid that droops shut, hiding the empty cavity where an eye had once been. A sacrifice for knowledge. Lips twisting into a smile, you lean into him, placing a chaste kiss upon his unmarred cheek. “Perhaps your misjudgment has something to do with your forfeited eye,” you quip.

Havi shakes his head, disguising his laughter as false annoyance. “Sweet Frigg,” he chides, arms moving to encircle your waist. Since returning from Jötunheim, he’s been subjected to his queen’s endless taunts and jests for weeks.

Twining your arms around his neck, the corner of your lips quirk upward —a confident smirk and a look Havi is unaccustomed to seeing grace your fair features. There’s a glint in your eyes, too, reminiscent of one of Loki’s impish looks. “I do not need foresight to best you,” you tell him.

“No?” Havi challenges with one of his brows raised.

Your smile softens, hands slipping down to feel the planes of his chest through his rough spun tunic. “I know you, my love.” Havi hangs off your every word; he knows it’s true, though —there are millions of souls in the Nine Realms, and none save his sweet Frigg truly knows him. “And that makes you predictable.” He lets out a long sigh, silenced when you brush your lips against his, but pulling away too quickly for him to return the kiss in earnest. “Come,” you breathe, stepping out of his loose embrace, “walk with me, dear Havi, let us not dwell on your loss.” The king of the Æsir offers the crook of his arm, willing to follow his queen to the very end.

PUSHING OUT OF a stalemate, you run the edge of your sword across a Dane’s throat, deflecting another blow with the steel gauntlet wrapped around your forearm —steadily moving across the field toward their leader, Eivor Wolfsmal, carving a path of blood and bone. With a cry, you level your blade and seek to end the battle with a fell swoop —he catches the blade against his bearded axe, teeth bared and blood streaking his face, eyes burning with the fires of Muspelheim.

The impasse stands, neither of you unable to move against the other and a fleeting moment when your eyes meet is all it takes. You stand high above the Nine Realms, training staff in hand, circling the man before you. The grip you have on your sword’s hilt falters. She smiles, dancing around him with grace, blocking his blows and dealing them out just as quickly. His axe slips from his hand, his shield lowering.

“Frigg,” Eivor breathes. The whispered name strikes something deep within you —the revelation forces the two of you apart, weapons falling to the muddy earth. Eivor’s gaze softens, his face contorting as he takes a step closer, disbelieving. “No!” He shouts, but it is too late —the lance of a great two-handed axe meets your temple, and with speckled vision, you fall into darkness.

“EIVOR!” DAG SHOUTS, standing over an unmoving figure on the field of battle. “What about this one?” Eivor steps next to him, looking down at you —face a mess of blood and dirt with a long cut running across your thigh, still seeping blood. He crouches down, slipping his hand below your neck to cradle the back of your head, as though he’s holding a lover. Just the brush of your skin against his sets him alight and brings memories that do not belong to him flashing across his mind. A smile, a kiss, sitting next to his sweet Frigg at the head of the table overseeing a bountiful feast.

Weary, you open your eyes, feeling the cool rain wash over you. You glance around the battlefield, strewn with the corpses of your people and those of the Danes and Norse, and then to the man tenderly holding your head. Their leader —a haunting reminder of the dreams that’d plagued you since childhood. We fought, and neither of us could deal a final blow. “Who are you?” Eivor asks.

“No one,” you answer. He frowns, knowing it is a lie. There is something about you he cannot explain. Eivor knows you. He knows your face, the whisper of your voice, the gentle brush of your fingers against his cheek, and yet, you are but a stranger to him.

Deciding what it is he must do, Eivor slides his arms under your knees and around your shoulders, hefting you up from the muddy ground. The protests on your lips remain unvoiced. Laughing. A hall filled with joyous cries as your dear Havi lifts you into his arms with the same giddiness as the night you wed. When your eyes meet once again, you both look away, quickly. Overwhelmed by a strange swell of relief —as though long-departed lovers are reunited. “Take her to my tent” —he passes you to Dag— “I will tend her wounds.”

With great effort, you strip away your armor, discarding it in a pile —if Eivor Wolfsmal meant to kill you, he’d have done so already. You remain mostly unscathed, save for the throbbing cut on your thigh. It is not deep enough to warrant stitching, nor does it bleed heavily enough to need the cleansing touch of fire. Tearing a strip of linen from the hem of your tunic, you bind the wound, awaiting whatever cruel fate lies ahead.

When Eivor returns, he comes with a basin of water and several long strips of clean linen. He kneels at your side, wordlessly, peeling away your poor excuse for a bandage and the split wool of your breeches. You watch him, see his brows furrow in concentration as he dips a rag into the water, wiping the muck and blood away with a gentleness unbecoming of the berserker you witnessed in the heat of battle. “Why are you helping me?” You ask, wincing when he presses down on the cut.

“Don’t make me regret it,” Eivor says —a tinge of amusement in his voice— his gaze flitting up from your thigh. After a pause, he speaks again, answering your question but creating several more. “You remind me of someone I know” —he ties a knot in the linen— “or rather knew.” Eivor scrubs his hands in the tainted water, sitting back on his haunches. He looks over you, curious, replaying what happened when your blades locked in battle, and the memories he’s seen, vivid as a waking dream.

Your breath catches when your eyes meet his, clear and nigh cold —reassured and frightened to know he had seen the same thing you had. “Who?” It’s a foolish question. You know who it is he’s reminded of. You, or rather Frigg. Why else would he glimpse you as though he’s seen a ghost?

He shakes his head, running his hand down his face and through his golden beard, still tinted with blood. “I’m not sure,” Eivor answers.

Biting down on your lip, you glance through the crack in the tent’s opening, heart hammering in your chest as ravens croak and squawk over a feast of flesh. “Havi.” It’s a whisper so faint Eivor barely hears it.

His eyes widen, lips parting in surprise —his heart thuds loudly in his ears. “How do you know that name?” He asks. The shock of hearing one of Odinn’s names amplified by your standing as a Saxon warrior.

An ephemeral smile crosses your lips —there and gone in a heartbeat— as you think about sweet Frigg and dear Havi. “I hear it in my dreams,” you admit. “It belongs to a man who looks like you.” Eivor is the image of Havi. His clear blue eyes are the same, as is his golden hair and the scar running across his cheek. The only distinction is Eivor has a mottled patch of skin on his neck, and Havi is missing an eye. “Only he has one eye.”

Eivor lets you a shaky breath. He’d spoke of these dreams to Valka —her cryptic response had made him uneasy, but that feeling pales in comparison to now —he has Frigg sitting before him. He cannot run from the gods’ plans any longer. “Fate has brought us together for a reason.” You don’t doubt it. A lifetime of praying to a Christian god, and yet it has always been the ways of the Danes and Norse that called to your soul the most.

“I know you saw what I did when we crossed blades,” you tell him, holding his gaze. Eivor’s shoulders fall. He wants to think of you as a stranger, but it feels as though he’s finally found something —a piece of him he hadn’t even known was missing until he looked over steel and iron and into your eyes. “You called me Frigg.”

He swallows the knot in his throat. Havi and Frigg —the High-One and his queen. “We were bound in another life,” Eivor tells you, there’s no uncertainty in his voice, and you do not doubt him. He moves closer to you, albeit unwittingly, and you do not shy away. You had not been afraid of him on the field of battle; you would not be now either. “Come with me” —he offers his hand— “I know someone who can help answer our questions.”

You slip your hand in his as Eivor begins to rise, helping you up to your feet. He frowns at the grimace twisting your expression —your leg pained you more than you let on. Eivor steadies you by the waist, and for a moment, the world outside the canvas tent vanishes. Instead of the edge of a battlefield, you are high above Asgard and all the Nine Realms. You lean into him, breath catching when he leans in too.

The tickle of his beard against your cheek is warning enough for you to pull back, but you don’t. Eivor’s lips brush yours, hesitant at first until he remembers you are his Frigg and, he, your Havi. It is just as sweet and soft as you knew him to be. You both part with a sigh, foreheads resting together. A smile twists your lips when you reach up, following the scar on his —fingers combing through his beard. After a millennium, you’d finally found each other.

Eivor gestures to the cot, knowing he must speak to his allies and men, and you need time to recover your strength. “Rest, sweet Frigg,” he says, lips brushing against your temple before stepping back and out of the tent. In his place remains a raven with dark, beady eyes watching over you as Huginn and Muninn once had.

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