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lilystyles · 4 months

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hot chocolates & christmas shopping.

part two of the sweetest thing series by @lilystyles

the sweetest thing masterlist & my main masterlist xxx

authors note bit short but i hope u like it :)

brief description y/n and harry go christmas shopping & share a hot chocolate.

warnings! so much fluff (3.3k words)

grumpy!roommate!journalist!H x sunshine!baker!roommate!reader

* * * * *

There was something particularly gorgeous about Harry in the mornings.

It was something Y/n loved, a lot. Maybe it was the rasp in his voice, the cute puffy face he got if he’d had enough sleep, or how gentle he was. It was like his grumpiness and sharp tongue hadn’t had any time to warm up yet, so he was just this little sleepy sweetheart. He was just so soft in the mornings. So off guard, and when he slept the worry lines on his face disappeared and he looked like a little angelic cherub laying there. No frown or sharp eyes, just a gentle soft face that she wasn’t all that used to.

Y/n just liked Harry, but especially in the mornings.

She liked weekends most because that meant she got to actually spend some time with Harry. She usually woke up after him, but some days when the air was especially cold and crisp she woke up with the sun. That morning had been one of them. The sunrise pierced through her blinds, a blazing glow of orange and pink and red. Like a painting or a dream. She stretched, the duvet falling off her chest, revealing her skimpy silk pyjamas that protected her very little from the chilly winter air. The cool air of her flat nipped her skin creating goosebumps all over her soft skin. She yawned and shivered as she slipped from her bed.

Peaches woke up to the shuffling of her warm body leaving, and panted happily, joining her side and licking her feet. Peaches didn’t really stick to the one room for sleeping, she just picked whoever she pleased depending on the evening. Last night she’d chosen Y/n and fell asleep curled by her feet while Y/n watched the latest show she’d been obsessing over.

Peaches had originally been Harry’s dog, and Y/n always referred to her as H’s, but Harry knew the minute the pup and Y/n met they were going to be good friends too. Which meant Peaches was as much Y/n’s as his.

The dog happily trotted alongside Y/n into the bathroom. She shut the door quietly and turned the little light on, a soft glow of yellow hit her eyes. She winced, finding a hairbrush and combing the absolute rat nest of hair she’d made in the night, back from her face. Opening the cupboard she saw all her fancy products which Harry called her potions and magic. She’d started to get him into skincare now though, and he was beginning to borrow her fancy moisturisers. Not that she minded at all, after all, what were roommates for? And she thought it was cute how he copied her and asked questions now when she applied creams to her face and even joined her for face masks sometimes.

She washed her face in a slow manner, the icy cold water waking her right up. She hadn’t checked the time or her phone, she guessed it was around five. The windows showed the sky to be just waking up too. She applied some moisturiser and creams to her face and put her hair into some little plaits to keep them out of her way while she made breakfast.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Peaches a shadow behind her, she made her way back into her bedroom. She needed a jumper and some slippers. Sliding on a random hoodie from her floor that swallowed her form and her favourite bunny slippers that Peaches liked to play fight with. She was trying to be quiet so that Harry could sleep in that extra bit longer, as she made her way to the kitchen.

She walked past the lounge room and turned the fireplace on under the telly. It was this really posh electric one. She also turned the heated floors on, Harry’s flat was so posh. She was still getting used to it. Having moved from a little shoe box in a dodger part of London to this absolutely luxurious apartment. Being a baker and small business owner meant she wasn’t drowning in riches, all her money went to her shop.

But Harry had worked very hard to be able to buy something like this, and she knew he deserved it. And for a bloke that basically never stepped foot in the kitchen to cook, his kitchen was glorious a chef's dream. He had an industrial oven, the kind she used at work. He had this massive fridge that Y/n stocked with food, she basically planned all their meals. He had cabinets that opened with a remote and china made in Denmark. Nothing in his house was cheap, he’d bought the best of whatever he was after.

When she’d first moved into the place was very masculine and cold like one of those open houses. Now she’d added her own touches it felt like a home. Like in the kitchen, her collection of quirky mugs lined the backsplash hanging up on little hooks, colourful tea towels hung all over the place, and her cooking books rested near the fruit bowl.

She looked down at Peaches. “Hungry, baby?”

Peaches just licked her lips. Y/n giggled softly grabbing some dry dog nuts pouring them into her bowl, and changing her water bowl with some fresh water.

She looked at the fridge for inspiration on what to make for breakfast. Before finally deciding on a full fry-up when she noticed the fresh eggs from the farmer's market still hadn’t been used.

She got out all the ingredients; bacon, eggs, sausages, potatoes (to make her own hash browns), along with cheese, tomatoes, and bread.

After making every piece of the meal from scratch it was around six-thirty, and she heard the thumping of Harry’s footsteps walking down the hall. He appeared over her shoulder and she jumped when his hand touched her shoulder, as he peered over to watch her cooking.

“Scared me!” She said giggling.

He gave a soft smile, eyes still puffy and bleary with sleep. “Sorry, Petal.”

She smiled. “S’okay, hungry?”

He nodded and sluggishly sat himself on the bench, legs dangling over showing his leg tattoos and muscles. He was just so tall, that he dwarfed the kitchen completely. He wasn’t wearing anything except baggy boxers and this very small black t-shirt that when he stretched showed the expanse of his tummy. She saw the fern tattoos as he stretched all feline-like and felt her cheeks warm as she turned back to the tomatoes she was frying up in a mixture of spices.

He was watching her with soft eyes, he loved watching her cook. His long hair was all messy from his tossing and turning in his sleep, he moved his hands up into the curls to tie it back in a loose bun. He looked so domestic like that, and nothing like the suited-up man she was used to seeing. She adored him like this.

She hadn’t noticed the way he was looking at her, too busy humming along to a song and cooking up the delicious smelling food.

He was looking at her all besotten, and secretly imagining her in their future home cooking for their family in the morning. In a similar outfit to this one. Silky cream-coloured pyjamas like this, with shorts that bunched up and showed the curve of her rounded bum, and a silky singlet top with lace over the peaks of her breasts that left little to the imagination. Her hair all messy in some loose plaits, with those ridiculous slippers on her feet.

She looked like a little housewife right now, and honestly, if she didn’t love her job so much. He wouldn’t have minded taking care of her and keeping her at home so he could selfishly keep her absolute perfection to himself.

When breakfast was cooked they ate on the couch rugged up under a blanket and watching the morning news and revealed her ulterior motives.

Harry only found her all the more adorable for going to all this effort in making him breakfast and agreed to what she asked of him with little thought at all.

As she watched him eat his food and quietly complimenting all the different flavours of the meal she thought to herself how well the two of them fit. Like two peas in a pod. It made her smile.

“What?” He said lips curling too, her smile was contagious.

She just leaned into his side sipping her coffee. “Oh, nothing.”

Honestly, Y/n always thought her person would be someone exactly like her. Someone who finished her sentences and loved all the same things as her. She always imagined her person to be a baker too, who was merry and full of joy about the world. Someone who also liked peanut butter toast every day, someone who enjoyed walking in parks, someone who loved books and warm autumn evenings. But Y/n thinks now that was a silly thing to think because she knows for a fact her person is a grumpy journalist named Harry. This realisation led to a complete epiphany, in fact. She realised Harry wasn’t her person because they were similar or because he liked her interests or from an outside view when they walked down the street people thought “Oh, he matches her well”.

He was her person because of his complete and utter indifferences with her. They were like salty and sweet. Some prefer one over the other, and some like them together or in a mixture of many things. However, most places, meals, treats, and Y/n’s favourite things weren’t without at least a pinch of salt or a dash of sugar. Not a pairing you might think to put together straight up, but a pairing that worked.

Harry and Y/n were so different. She was chatty, sweet, optimistic, funny, charming, and like a ray of sunshine. But she was also clumsy, anxious, and an overthinker. And Harry was quiet, calculating, leaned toward pessimism, witty, honest, and Y/n always described him as ‘a breathe of fresh air’ but that was her nice way of saying he was blunt and totally honest which hurt if you weren’t ready to hear that your favourite jumper washed you out. But he was also sensitive, soft, and very very kind. His honesty never came from a place of rudeness or anger. His honesty was to help people make decisions. Which is why she always asked him when she needed a real honest answer.

It was hard to explain to someone but when they were together they harmonised. Niall and their other friends could see it. It was obvious to them.

Like today, for example, Y/n had convinced him to go Christmas shopping for everyone. She was going too already and Harry had the day off too. Plus Y/n loved it when the malls were decorated with tacky Christmas lights and trees, she loved the Christmas songs playing in every shop, and all the festive things that followed in the shops. Her favourite places came out with new desserts or drinks for them to try and she loved going around and trying them.

Harry probably couldn’t think of anything worse than the mall, especially during Christmas time. But when Y/n went to all that effort and made him bacon and eggs and asked ever so sweetly if he wanted to join her he said yes. Peaches was curled up under Y/n’s feet snoring as they watched the morning news, and she looked over at him with those pretty eyes and so the words just slipped right out of his coffee-soaked lips, “Okay, Y/n, I’ll go with you.”

When they arrived at the mall she had led him into a candle shop and they were smelling idly when Y/n began asking Harry’s opinion on her new special at the bakery. She had been making him try so many different recipes that she’d been coming up with, all festive of course, and she was deciding between two for this week. Cherry pie custard tarts or candy cane mint chocolate chip swirls.

Another reason Harry was her person was because he had a sweet tooth, and never got sick of trying her latest recipe, and was always honest about what he preffered and why. He was never rude to her, just honest, which she valued. People forget despite her totally sweet aura she’d trained at one of the most prestigious culinary schools with chefs and bakers who treated you like shit under their shoes. So she could handle harsh feedback, but Harry was soft in his truth.

“Cherry pie.” He said firmly.

As they’d sniffed some berry-scented candles he looked over finally. He’d contemplated for a few minutes before deciding that. There was something awfully Christmassy about those tarts she’d made for him this week, and it reminded him of growing up. She usually got home from the bakery and stayed up late cooking in the kitchen coming up with new recipes. She’d gotten inspiration from a cherry pie Niall made, it was his grandmother’s recipe.

She smiled. “Yeah, sure Mr. Sweet-Tooth.”

He sighed. “You sound like my mother.”

“That’s a compliment, Anne is lovely. Speaking of Mumsie, what are you going to get her for Christmas?”

He looked over. “I dunno, Gem probably has it covered.”

“Such a boy.” She said rolling her eyes.

“I got my mum a new set of bed sheets that are all fancy cotton and have blue strips, they remind me of a sailboat beach house. Made some homemade candles with Niall and Max. I also thought I’d get a bottle of wine. You know? A fancy one.”

“I was just gonna get a box of chocolates and some champagne.”

She frowned. “How about I make a batch of my homemade spicy dark chocolate balls for her, and you get a champagne still but some cute champagne flutes to go with. I saw some pink ones in the shop over there,”

He looked down at her. She was dressed in a deep cherry red knitted jumper that swallowed her form, a little black woollen skirt, and crimson tights. Her little black boots had ribbons for laces and she looked like Christmas in human form. “Are you secretly an elf?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “No.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders bringing her into his side, her cheek pressing into his chest. “Short enough to be one.”

She huffed. “Whatever you big old oaf.”

They made their way to the shop Y/n was talking about. It was full of fancy colourful glasses and he bought the gifts for Anne while they stayed close by chatting quietly. They managed to find gifts for everyone Harry needed presents for and Y/n found one for Niall and Max. So she was happy, she’d be slowly building her Christmas present pile for the whole year. Harry’s was already wrapped and under their tree at home.

As they walked a bit more sluggishly, the lunchtime rush rolling in, Y/n turned to him. “Have you gotten my present yet?”

He looked down at her. “Of course.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

She frowned. “Please?”

He shook his head, “Nope. Don’t give me that face. I refuse to cave.”

She sighed. “Fine,”

They managed to find presents for everyone on each of their lists. Harry, trailed behind Y/n who had completed her shopping well in advance and only had a few bags in her hands. His arms were laden with sizeable bags, a testament to the success of their shopping spree, as Y/n led him towards her favourite little cafe nearby. She loved their drinks and the cosy feel of the place.

The bell above the door chimed as they stepped into the warmth of the cafe, a welcome feeling from the winter chill outside. Y/n greeted the barista with a cheerful hello, reciprocated by a warm smile, and she guided Harry towards a cosy booth at the end of the cafe.

With a careful arrangement, Harry placed his array of bags at their feet, his eyes momentarily fixated on Y/n. She sat with an air of dreaminess, her gaze fixed on the ethereal dance of snowflakes against the cafe window, painting the scene outside all delicate and whimsical like a scene in ballet.

When Y/n caught Harry's lingering gaze, a blush found her cheeks. "Promise you'll just die over these, hot chocolates!"

A soft smile curved his lips. "I'm sure," he replied.

Seated across from each other, Y/n perused the menu, her eyes occasionally darting up to meet Harry's. He looked particularly handsome today, wrapped in a chunky white knitted jumper, jeans that hugged his legs, and his signature boots. Loose spirals of hair framed his face, and his green eyes met hers with an intensity that went unnoticed.

“Which one? Gingerbread hot choccy or cinnamon?”

He shrugged.

"Both then, that way we can see which is better.” She decided finally.

Harry glanced at the menu, eyes squinted over the list. "How about some churros? You like those, don't you?"

A nod from Y/n made their decision. As he went to place their order, Harry returned, settling down even closer to Y/n in the booth. Their thighs brushed, the warmth mingling as they awaited the arrival of their food and drinks. She leaned into him, squeezing his arm.

"What do you want to do when we get home?" Harry asked softly, eyes watching her.

Y/n shrugged playfully. "Depends on how much Christmas you can handle, Haz."

A laugh escaped his lips. "You are the silliest little thing."

She fake pouted, eliciting a besotten eye roll from Harry. He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, near her hairline.

"Shush. Don't go telling anyone."

She responded with a soft smile. “Promise, I’m an excellent secret keeper!"

As their hot chocolates arrived, Y/n watched Harry take a sip of the rich, warm drink, and she couldn't help but smile at his appreciative reaction.

"Y/n, that is fuckin' good," He declared with enthusiasm that she rarely saw from him.

"I told you!" She replied, a hint of pride in her voice. Happy he liked it.

As they exchanged sips, Y/n noticed the smudge of her lipstick on the cup. A thought crossed Harry's mind, and he couldn’t help but think that if he leaned over and kissed her right now, she'd taste delicious. All sweet and warm, and how perfect it would be. But he didn’t. He just took another sip and listened to her chat away about all the gifts they bought.

After finishing their drinks and sweet treats, they made their way home. Harry couldn't deny that the day had

been rather successful and, secretly, quite fun.

They ended their day by assembling the Christmas tree Y/n had stored in her assortment of festive boxes in the spare room of their flat. The flat was a riot of holiday cheer, and she couldn't have been happier. She loved it, it just made her so very happy.

All that remained was the star for the tree's crown. Despite her efforts, Y/n struggled to reach the top, a consequence of her choice of an elegantly tall tree. Observing her jump for the fifth time, Harry decided to intervene, his hands poised to help her, and he laughed when she still couldn’t reach the top.

“On m’shoulders.” He said.

She looked at him, blinking face blank. “What?”

“On you pop.”

She stayed still and sighed grabbing her wrist to take her over to the couch. She stood up on the cushions and he squatted down so that she could hop on. She hopped on nervously, and he gripped her thighs tightly and securely.

“H, careful!” She said, letting out a little shriek and grabbing his hair.

He just smiled. “Put the star on, Love. Go on.”

As she placed the star on she looked down to see a pleased look on Harry’s face. She could tell he was already getting the spirit and that made her heart swell.

Who knew he could make the season all the better?

ITS CHRISTMAS EVE FOR ME SO MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE ANGELS XX

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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 months

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✧ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡 || ice bound au ♔

summary: his call leaves her broken and her brothers each have a different way of comforting her

warnings: sad, throwing up, mentions of blood and cuts

notes: i'm in a very angsty mood, while and even after writing this. jack lives on his own because i said so. i had like an hour and a half left on my laptop when i started this (maybe a bit more) so I'm so glad i was able to get this out tonight | add yourself to the taglist ➵ taglist!

published: 02/16/24

au masterlist | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Her mind was crowded with multiple thoughts, the main one being why he would do this to her, yet the second one was that she needed to get out of this dorm, out of this city, out of this state. She hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. She took her suitcase out from under her bed and started shoving clothes in, it didn’t matter what they were. She knew her socks were red, so she poorly bandaged them and changed socks so she wouldn't be caught by security at the airport.

She didn’t tell anyone, she hadn’t talked to anyone since he called her. It had been almost a day since his call, it was now three in the afternoon the next day. The flight was in an hour and a half, so she drove as fast as possible. She hauled her suitcase into the airport, trying not to draw attention to herself. She went through security smoothly and now all she had to do was wait. Waiting was not a Chloe Hughes thing, it was one of the things she hated the most.

Luckily, she had no one sitting next to her on the flight. That was the small sliver of good luck she was given today. She put her headphones on, listening to music the whole way there and staring out the window. When she got there, it was midnight and she felt overwhelmed. She hadn’t visited Jack in a while, she had to scroll through her text messages to find his address. Once she found it, she got a cab, telling the driver where to go.

She slowly made her way up the stairs, nerves making her way through her mind. She was hoping that he wouldn’t be mad at her. She knocked on the door, waiting for him to answer. It took a minute because it was almost one in the morning and he was still relatively new to the city. He opened the door, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, and looked at his sister confused, “Chlo?”

She choked on a sob, “I’m so sorry.”

He immediately woke up at the sound of her crying, “Hey hey. It’s okay. C’mere.”

He opened his arms and she all but dove into them. He stumbled a little but caught her nonetheless. He brought her into his apartment, releasing one of his arms to drag her suitcase in and then closing the door with a kick. She could feel his hand running up and down her back and somehow it only made her sobs worse.

He didn’t say anything, letting her cry it out. It took her a while to calm down, a good half an hour. He was over the top confused but he couldn’t focus on that right now, he could only focus on the fact that his twin sister was crying in his arms. Her breathing grew steady and that was the first time he spoke since she got there, “What’s going on?”

“He hurt me, Jacky.”

His heart broke, he didn’t know who, but he would make it his mission to figure it out, “Who?”

She only shook her head, not wanting to tell him his best friend broke his sister’s heart. He could tell that she didn’t want to talk, that she was tired, “You wanna go lay down?”

She nodded this time, allowing him to take her into his room. He went to leave, telling her he would sleep on the couch but she caught his wrist, begging him to stay. She didn’t want to be alone, her emotions were too much. He obliged, laying down on the opposite side of the bed as her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. She held his hand, the most contact she wanted at the moment, and he squeezed her hand to let her know that he was there.

When Jack woke up the next morning, he was alarmed when she wasn’t lying in the bed, thinking he had just had a strange dream the previous night. But when he heard noises coming from the bathroom, he got up quickly and ran over there, knocking on the door, “Chlo? Are you okay?”

“No.” Her voice was laced with tears, on the edge of breaking once again.

“Do you mind if I come in?”

He heard the door unlock and he walked in, seeing her pressed against the wall, her hair a mess even in a low ponytail. It was the first time he had gotten a good look at her since she arrived, her eyes were accompanied by the darkest circles he had ever seen, they were red and bloodshot from the amount of tears she had shed. Her clothes were baggy on her, more than usual. Then he looked down at her feet, slowly recognizing the growing red spot.

His eyes widened, “You’re bleeding!”

She looked down, pulling her feet closer to see for herself, “Oh yeah. Forgot about that.”

“Forgot about it?”

He sat on the ground in front of her, taking her socks off to see what the cause of the bleeding was. There were tiny cuts all along her feet, one big cut on her left one. He stared in horror, not really sure he wanted to know how this happened. He rummaged through his drawers to find his first-aid kit, “What are you doing?

“Cleaning and bandaging your cuts because obviously, you didn’t take more care of yourself.”

She shrugged, staring at the wall in front of her. Jack was worried about her, she hadn’t looked this broken since Hayden, and even now, she looked more if that was possible. He cleaned her cuts, blocking out her slight winces she produced when the cuts stung. When he was done, he wrapped her feet in gauze, creating a protective layer between her feet and the bandages he would be putting on, “You’re lucky you don’t have to go to the hospital, Chloe.”

“Who cares?”

Her voice was monotone, her face was blank, she was off, and he knew that. It was like her and the world around her was turned upside down. He frowned at her words, continuing to work. He didn’t know how his bright and bubbly sister could act this glum, this upset. He was finished in ten minutes and as soon as he was done she threw up, the third time since she woke up.

“I’m sorry.” She spoke in short sentences, she had only spoken 22 words since she got here.

“For what?”

“Showing up here.”

“It’s okay, Chloe. I just want to know why.”

She shook her head, she couldn’t tell him. It would make everything worse. He would hate her, hate Trevor, it hurt even just to think about his name. She shouldn’t be ruining their friendship because she couldn’t handle rejection. She kept that part to herself, making up a name for him so they would never find out.

Jack was surprised by the news, but if there was one thing he was good at it was not bringing his emotions into the situation when she was upset, it would make her more upset. He had already been late for the morning skate and he knew that, but she didn’t. Usually, she would be the one to have all of their calendars saved no matter what it was, but with this happening, she couldn’t remember for the life of her. He wasn’t going to tell her, he also wasn’t going to tell her that he should be getting on a plane later in the day.

When she went back to bed, sleeping better than before, Jack let his coach know that he would not be able to make it to the game, for personal reasons. This alarmed his parents, who found out later. He explained the situation to them, both of them knowing they raised good kids at that moment.

✧༺✎༻∞

After Jack’s season was done, Chloe having gone to each of the games, they flew home. From there, Luke spent every day glued to her side and she wasn’t going to complain. They stayed in her room watching random movies they found, trying to see who could find the worst one. Quinn finished up his season a week later, coming home as soon as he could. He had been filled in on what happened and couldn’t wait any longer to ensure she was okay.

Chloe loved her younger brother and her twin, but the comfort that came from Quinn was unmatched. It wasn’t that Jack and Luke didn’t act like older brothers, because they did, all the time, but Quinn had that energy about him. So when he showed up at the house and went directly to her room, she hugged him instantly. Luke left, knowing that she and Quinn would be in her room for the next couple of hours.

She ranted to him, accidentally letting his name slip, however Quinn wasn’t mad. He wasn’t even surprised. He had every reason to suspect his little sister dating his little brother’s best friend, in his eyes, they were obvious. If anything, he comforted her more once he realized that was indeed who it was, he could see how much she had truly cared for him. Quinn knew how much it hurt, and could only imagine how long it would take for her to start feeling better. But, until then, the three of them would be by her side for all of it.

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

#sunny lune writes #sunnyluneicebound #trevor x chloe #tz11 #trevor zegras

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kicktwine · 2 years

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I have more thoughts about ventus than one person should reasonably have about ventus and that means I have more little written notes and headcanons and aus with the boy than one person should reasonably have and since I’ve ALREADY made a myriad of posts about the headcanons part I am just going to fastball special a bunch of unfinished google docs into this post so that they stop Staring At Me alright okay WOO

i wanted to write something about ven and vani stuck in Sora’s heart for ten years and how they communicate by just. temporarily murdering each other and now it’s homestuck formatted

proto-horrorwolves snippet, so basically just a wayfinders werewolf au

When they had first brought Ven home -- well, they didn’t know his name then, he was sick and asleep and he didn’t turn back from fully shifted for weeks. The whoever-before had given him a tag, on his ear -- just a stud earring with a number on it, not a name. He said it was to be able to tell them apart, later, when he could say. It didn’t really register that the number wasn’t for neglect reasons, or even lack-of-a-name reasons, but it was for please-someone-who-am-I reasons and this-isn’t-my-body reasons, and it worked only as well as it could.

Anyways, when they had first carried him home from the middle of nowhere and dusted off the snow and laid him down on their threadbare college off-campus housing couch he stayed there and slept for so long they started to worry that they’d have to get someone else to look at him. Like a vet, if he didn’t turn back soon, however embarrassing that might be later. But they didn’t end up needing to, because one night on a Wednesday he adjusted himself on the couch to be more comfortable and the next day they found the soft thawed-out carrots and plain chicken they had put on a plate and left on the floor were nibbled at and the next day he picked his head up and actually looked at them. He seemed to be recovering from whatever-it-was at his own pace, slow and steady and wary.

Which was good, probably, because neither Terra nor Aqua really had any expertise with taking care of a very sick and injured dog (a sick werewolf, actually, which is way worse according to Aqua and it makes Terra whine at her), and they didn’t have a lot of money besides. All they had was patience and a small apartment with two bedrooms and a couch and a window they kept open just a little bit to smell the outdoors and a bit of love for a strange and broken kid-in-the-woods. And maybe that was all they needed, because it worked out just fine.

Terra didn’t have class on Fridays, but Aqua did, two of them in the morning, which sucked. No one should have class on Friday. As per routine, he ate breakfast with her, very gently scratched behind the kid wolf’s ears, and headed back to his desk in his room to get a headstart on homework before he had to go to work-work, which was only later than 6 am on Monday-Wednesday-Friday. Not his job to take care of any cows those days, he wasn’t full-time yet.

It was about three questions in to the statistics class he had to take because his ACT was a point short that Terra heard a soft shift from the living room, and a startlingly loud huff. Might’a been louder to him, on account of the inhuman hearing, but it was followed by a low growl, and another, much harsher huff of air. Terra abandoned the math questions with a start, nearly tripping over the wire between the doorway.

“You okay, bud?” Terra asked, and then startled again, because the couch was empty. And the couch was empty because there on the floor, sitting with his hands — hands! — splayed out and his chest heaving and his knees awkwardly up in a froggy sort of way sat a small, scruffy, dirty blonde boy, his back to Terra. As soon as Terra spoke, though, his head lifted and he looked at him with bright green and very very human eyes.

Terra gaped. “Oh,” he said, and then a little louder rounding the couch, “Oh!”

He forgot what personal space was for a second, and sat right down in front of the boy. The boy reeled back a little from it, a very canine motion with one of his hands up, but Terra didn’t realize he might have crossed a line until later. As it was, he ran a gentle hand through the boy’s unkempt hair and grinned at him. “You did it! You turned back!”

The boy opened his mouth and then closed it at the faint whispering croak that came out, and nodded instead, his expression cautiously open, but obviously proud of himself. As he should be!

It was pure tolerance and sleepiness that made the boy endure Terra’s gentle prodding around, something that definitely wouldn’t happen with Vanitas, but that’s a different story. He’d not got much on, the magic that facilitated the transformation letting you keep your clothes mostly, but it wasn’t really used to staying dormant for so long and ended up in scraps that kind of clung to him. He looked like he’d been roughed up beforehand too, still-healing scrapes along his bare shoulders and a concerning number of very neat and orderly scars on his chest, but Terra’s first thought was honestly just to take off the hoodie he was wearing and pop it over the boy’s head, because he looked a little cold and his shirt was nonexistent. The boy looked surprised, and wrinkled his nose at the new smell, but hugged it a little closer. He’d need better shorts, or something, too, maybe Terra would just steal a pair of Aqua’s. The hoodie was huge on his little stick limbs, Terra’s shorts would be immediately useless.

As he was inspecting, the boy was doing some inspecting of his own — eyes wide and searching around the living room that he could think about clearly now that he shifted back. He let Terra move him a little, but avoided leaving himself in the same spots, awkwardly trying not to be touched anyways. The hoodie was nice, though. Comforting, and warm.

The boy was young, Terra concluded, but didn’t have the scent of a youngling. He was immediately submissive to the adult in the room and as long as Terra had lived he’d always made sure everyone knew the hierarchy system was kind of bs but in this case it came in handy, for making sure the boy was alright and for making sure he wasn’t gonna start fighting the instant he got better. One of his slightly averted eyes was a little cloudy, and his blonde hair was almost a mullet at that point though it probably wasn’t meant to be. He had kind of knobby-knuckled hands that poked out of Terra’s sweater, long and small and a teenager. Not that much younger than him, but young.

Terra scruffed up his hair once more and refrained, barely, from giving a bear hug or something. “Oh, bud, we gotta tell Aqua. You did it!” he repeated, and pulled out his phone.

The boy cocked his head. “Wh… what,” he started, and then stopped. It was a little hard to remember the correct words, and how to make them with a person-mouth. He sounded wispy at best. Luckily, Terra could kind of guess, or at least fill the silence.

“I’m gonna text Aqua with this and tell her to come back home. She’s the other person who lives here,” Terra explained, and typed aqua come home rihgt now.

The reply was almost instant, and it made his phone bing because he kept it off silent, which startled the boy. He craned his neck to see better. I just got to sociology. Why?

hangon

As stealthily as he could with the boy watching his every move, Terra pointed the camera at him and took a picture, covering the speaker so the noise wasn’t so loud. It startled him again anyways, but only in a curiosity way. He looked a bit like a deer in the headlights on the screen, and Terra sent the image.

omg

Is that him???

I’m coming back right now.

The boy lifted a hand almost as if to paw at the phone, but put it down. Terra turned the screen around anyways, and the boy squinted at it, slowly mouthing out letters then words then stopping and restarting.

“She says she’s coming back,” Terra supplied. “She’ll be 20 minutes, probably.”

“H-her…” he motioned above his head a bit, his hands stuttering. “...blue?”

“Yes! Aqua has blue hair.”

The boy brightened at the implied praise. He should, Terra thought, probably figure out what the boy’s name is, so he can stop calling him boy. He may not even want to be ”boy” at all, Terra knew nothing about him other than how he was rather small and didn’t seem to remember how to read that well or speak with much more than a few raspy words. Whatever could have done that was still very worrisome, but Terra decided to take things one at a time, as he usually did.

…

horrorwolves again but this time! published auverse

Ansem Report 13 10/02/2006 - compiled events - phase end.

Subject I: terminated upon transformation.

Subject II: terminated upon transformation.

Subject III: terminated upon transformation.

Subject IV: terminated upon transformation.

Subject V: 132.5cm/sh, grey, blue o. Successful fusion (2). Terminated upon fusion (X).

Subject VI: 165cm/sh, black, yellow o. Successful fusion (7), minimal degradation. Unknown location.

Subject VII: 170.5cm/sh, white, green o. Successful fusion (5), severe degradation. Terminated upon fusion (VI). Unconfirmed.

Subject VIII: 138cm/sh, red, brown o. Terminated by VII.

Subject IX: 141cm/sh, brown, blue o. Terminated by VI.

Subject X: 186.5cm/sh, black, red o. Successful fusion (3), minimal degradation. Unknown location.

Subject X.i: terminated upon transformation.

Subject XI: 131cm/sh, black, blue o. Terminated by VI.

Subject XII: 172cm/sh, grey, brown o. Terminated upon fusion (X).

Subject XII.i: 172cm/sh, grey, green o. Terminated by XII.

Subject XIII: 163cm/sh, yellow, blue o. Successful fusion (4). Unknown location.

Subject XIII.i: 163cm/sh, black, blue o. Successful fusion (4). Unknown location.

Ansem Report 6 05/05/2006

Another experiment ended in failure due to unavoidable degradation of one subject’s mind and body. It seems to occur due to the “fusion pool”’s inability to tag attributes as belonging to one or another… with that in mind, is it truly unavoidable?

The failure of past subjects to retain their individual forms after separation can be remedied, theoretically, if both minds and bodies are exactly the same. Under better circumstances I would prefer to attempt this on human beings before attempting it on creatures already touched by Her light, as they’re far less predictable, and I would be remiss to lose everything as difficult as these. They are much more complicated than sheep, at the very least. But perhaps they will take to it better for the same reasons.

We have been given a secondary facility to accommodate our new work.

...

more small fun horrorwolves bits, and l o r e

“Are you new?”

“Yeah, um. Freshman.”

“That’s so cool!” Ven says, completely meaning it. He’s shuffling back and forth excitedly from foot to foot, a gesture that solidifies his wolf status to Riku — he knows that habit. He outgrew it years ago, when he was a puppy, and still had soft baby fur. Ven does not seem to care. “How come I didn’t see you out like, two weeks ago?”

Riku rubs the back of his neck, reluctant to give… honestly any information over, even though his internal danger meter is dropping rapidly the more he talks to Ventus. He doesn’t look like he’s prodding for weakness or anything. Though, that is what you’re supposed to avoid doing, when you prod for weakness. “I was inside,” Riku concedes.

“Inside?” Ven gapes. “No way! You could have come with us!”

“I didn’t know that,” Riku mutters.

“Oh yeah.” (Shoot better hearing he forgot about that) “Well, you know now! You should meet Terra! Here, I have to go to class, but hang on,” Ven says, and snatches Riku’s phone from where it was hanging limply in his hand, about a second away from going into sleep mode. Riku just blinks in stunned awkwardness until he finishes typing something, and pops the phone back into Riku’s palm./////

//// “We have chicken wings. Regular kind and barbecue.”

“Don’t bribe him, Ven.”

The Ven in question sidles up closer to Riku and whispers “And the good pizza. Not Little Caesars, we went to Pizza Hut.”

“Ventus.”

“Garlic saaaauce.”

Riku suppresses a snort. “I don’t want to be conspicuous. Or… intruding.”

/// “Yyyyes!” Ven yips, “Riku’s coming!!” ///

Oohhh I can just do three separate things abt werewolves

///// “Technically there’s no such thing as ‘light magic’,” Aqua starts. “Because it’s not magic at all. ‘Light magic’ relies on natural processes, mathematics, things that make sense when they happen. People found light magic centuries ago and called it medicine. There’s nothing magical about it. By contrast, dark magic is things happening that don’t make sense. Forcing things to exist, or not exist, breaking rules, turning iron into gold, things like that. It’s not a moral binary, either. The sun rules the light, and will burn crops that don’t get water because that’s what happens to plants without water. The moon rules the dark, and will keep plants alive for thousands of years simply because someone wants it to be. That’s… does that make sense?”

“I think so?” says Sora, and he flips the silver crown charm on his necklace to the other side of his mouth. “It’s just science and weird science.”

“More or less. I doubt you could call magic science, etymologically.”

“How does dark magic work, then? Can I just decide I want to live forever?”

“Dark magic relies on the abuse of the light. Tricking it into performing something else. It’s the moon that allows it to be blinded like that, in the first place, though no one actually knows how, since research is… thin, and not there yet. And hardly ever published, aside from individual scholars all discovering the same things,” Aqua says, pursing her lips. “It’s not unexplainable. It is undiscovered.”

:// “Lycanthropy is, as far as we know, a strain of magic that in itself has mutated to be more like a virus.” ///

“There are theories about why it is the moon that does this. Lots of people think it has something to do with being a reflection of light, some perversion of the ‘right’ way things work, but the important thing to know is if you aren’t careful, and you use dark magic too much, the sun will hurt you. As it is, you’re fine, it’s just more natural to be shifted at night.”

“Oh… wait! Is that why vampires melt in the sun??” Sora gasps.

“I’m amused but not surprised you went straight to vampires.”

“Am I right?”

Aqua taps her pencil to her mouth. “Technically yes — well. Yes and no. Vampires are just dark magicians who want more power than they can handle, so they kinda have to resort to things like purified blood and sleeping a lot. They can’t actually turn anyone else.”

Sora falls back in his seat. “Nuts.”

“Why is that a ‘nuts’? What were you planning?” Riku asks.

/////

“Ventus! Vanitas! Sit down!” Terra yells. Both wolves recoil at the force with which the command comes, and Ventus’ tail drops, but neither of them stop snarling at each other. All it takes is for Vanitas to raise his hackles again and they’re on each other in an instant, snapping and throwing each other across the floor. Terra growls in frustration, pulls a slight transformation over himself, and steps directly in between them. He gets Vanitas by the scruff first, and shoves Ventus backwards with one foot. As soon as their attention is half-him half-each other, Terra pours as much force as he can into his voice and snaps “Change!” They do, if in uncomfortable bursts. Like they’re fighting to be the last one still changed. Ventus shakes himself off as he comes out of it, panting, his hands gripping the carpet like his claws are still snagged. Vanitas writhes in Terra’s grip, and can only contort himself so much to re-establish furious eye contact with Ven and snarl another wordless challenge. Ventus jumps forwards, but Terra presses his foot harder into his shoulder where it ended up and he withdraws. The pure electricity in the air is making Riku nauseous.

//////// “Ven,” Terra says, firmly, “I’m not budging on this.” Ventus glares, silently challenging him. Terra huffs and returns the challenge, and it almost immediately makes Ventus avert his stare and turn away, his pout deepening. “Fine,” he mutters. “Thank you.” Ventus practically stomps over to Riku, seething. On the way past, he snags Riku’s sleeve, and Vanitas gets snagged by Terra and pulled into the opposite room. Once they’re out of each others’ range, Ventus lets out a breath and scrubs at his eyes. Riku nudges the door half-closed so they don’t hear Terra and Vanitas’ conversation. “What was that? I’ve never seen you mad at anything.” Ventus snorts, his hand briefly recoiling at a bloody scratch near his temple. He scowls at it and wipes his hand viciously on his pants. “He’s annoying.” “Okay, but so is Demyx, and you haven’t attacked him. What’s it really?” Riku asks. Ventus growls, and cuts himself short with a stuttered sigh as he realizes it doesn’t quite work the same with a human throat. “…You know how you and Sora are?” He asks. Riku nods. “It’s kind of like that. You guys are equals and partners and you get along great. But we’re totally equal and it makes me mad. It feels itchy. And he knows it makes me mad! /////

giving ven a hard time by tossing him in the phantom pain zone

Terra cracks open the door and peeks in. It’s still almost totally dark, the blinds flipped all the way upward to banish light to the ceiling. The intrusion sends a long beam of hallway-light over a curled-up figure in bed, who makes a distressed noise and curls up further, blocking his eyes with his elbows.

Terra quickly steps in and shuts the door again, returning the room to its comfortable half-dark. Ven doesn’t talk to him further.

“You okay?” Terra prompts. Ven makes a “hmm.” noise, one that means he doesn’t want to say he isn’t, but he isn’t.

“D’you feel sick?”

He makes the noise again, smaller. Terra kneels, and gently pushes Ven’s hand away from his forehead to feel it. One of them in a fist, the other tangled in his hair. He’s hot, almost feverish, but not in the sticky-warm way he’s used to meaning sick. Ven lets the air in his lungs out through his teeth in an uneven shudder, and Terra notices — he’s shaking. And very, very tense.

Terra’s expression dips further into worry. “Something hurt?”

“Yes,” Ven hisses, digging his nails further into pressure-white palms. Terra is taken aback by how short he sounds. He’s never short-tempered, or angry with them. He’s always bubbly and lax, even when something goes wrong — and he’s almost glaring at him, through his forearms. His eyes are watery, and despite the glare, they don’t quite seem to focus.

Terra lowers his voice. “D’you have a migraine? I get those, sometimes. I can get you some medicine.”

Ven starts to shake his head, and then winces and brings his knees closer to his body. “‘S not… I don’t think so,” he rasps.

He doesn’t elaborate. Thinking in more than one sentence at a time, or more than one thought at a time, is fuzzy and wobbly and painful again, like how it was when he started training under Master Eraqus, but more frustrating. He can come across words fine. He can process what hurt feels like, and what it means. It’s just — nasty, and hot and tight and he doesn’t like it very much. Terra asks “Where does it hurt, then?” and Ventus has to keep from snapping at him for the stupid, inane, perfectly normal he’s concerned about you he wants to help question.

“Everywhere,” Ven says. Terra furrows his eyebrows, he needs to be more specific. Ven uncurls one hand from its fist and gestures vaguely at his chest. He means to say “here”, but it comes out as a whine.

“You wanna get the Master to look at it?”

“No.” Ven does snap, this time. Which is ridiculous, because yes he wants it to go away please fix it make it stop but just because that means more people in his room and the Master seeing him weak and useless seeing him like this and because Terra is asking and that’s— that’s too many thoughts again, that’s— The awkward conflict sends another wave of fuzzy-static-pain echoing like a gunshot from his heart, and he squeezes his eyes shut to ride it out.

Terra’s hand is smoothing his hair back from his forehead. He thinks. And then doesn’t think, because it really hurts, like someone is yanking half of his heart out, and it’s just scaring the rest of him into hurting too just to disperse the load. He thinks Terra says something like “I’m going to get help,” which, once it registers, sends a soft rush of relief through him. His breath still catches, but that’s good. That Terra doesn’t listen to him. Ventus pulls the blanket up over his head and waits.

//it turns out — he hears this through static and his heartbeat and three voices, not two — it’s just a kind of phantom pain. From whatever happened to him, like he had lost a limb or something. And it’ll go away, but it might come back. If he were more awake, he might be relieved at the fact that there’s nothing new wrong or that it’ll go away on its own, or maybe even angrier that it’ll come back and he didn’t do anything wrong to earn it. Maybe not. But at that moment, Ventus just wants Aqua to close the door. It’s barely open, but the hallway light is on. He just really wants her to close the door. ///

...

riku takes over some dreameater duties for sora's heartmates, too

Riku does not sleep easy, in the year that Sora is gone.

When he doesn’t, he stays up, tapping at a screen for hints hidden in his data (it’s a stretch, but he’s stretched thin). When he does, he searches for hints of him in the dream realms. There are many, many sleeping realms even outside the sleeping worlds, and he never has normal dreams anymore, anyways. So, it may be more accurate to say that Riku does not sleep, in the year Sora is gone.

He may not be the only one.

Ventus, Terra and Aqua come back from the Realm of Darkness every few weeks. Aqua was insistent they take breaks from it, and no one was going to argue her. When they do come back, sometimes they take time to catch up with the rest of the Realm of Light, and sometimes they take time to be together in the Land of Departure, on their own. They’ve invited Riku over more than once, and he’s grateful for it, because despite taking him away from the computer, it gives him a little room to breathe. He has his own guest room, and the kitchen, though more manual than Sora made the Tower’s, still has good morning food tailored to his favorites. Aqua’s been working on that.

(Sometimes he can sense their nightmares — just on the edges of his consciousness, while he wanders.)

Ven usually wakes up last, and skips into the kitchen to take whatever it’ll give him. This morning, and the last, and the one before that, to be honest, he wakes up late and stumbles into the kitchen rubbing at his eyes and yawning.

It’s worse this morning. Riku’s been slowly eating away at a bagel and a mug of coffee for the past hour, reading a book Aqua recommended to him about realms and reality. Ven is only given away down the stairs behind him because he squeaks when he yawns, the rest of him is silent as he pads into the kitchen and stands at the counter. The castle seems to take pity on him and rustles the basket of croissants for his attention, which he gives by taking one and stuffing it in his mouth and leaving it there.

“Didn’t sleep well..?” Riku asks.

Ven startles just a touch. “Hmph? Oh, not really.” He gives Riku a half-wince smile. “Couldn’t fall asleep at all! I’m okay though.”

/// u see like snippets of Roxy and Xion and they’re also tired :( but that’s later uhhhhh frnow…. “No,” Ven mutters, stopping and switching directions mid-step. He runs towards the houses — “No, no…” Runs his hand through his hair, switches directions, stops. Riku can feel his mounting distress. So, a dream where he’s lost, or maybe where he can’t find something important. Not a terrible nightmare, but a distressing one nonetheless — so why was it strong enough that Riku could feel it?

“Hey,” Riku tries. “Ventus.”

He doesn’t respond, stuttering to a halt and turning around again, letting out a shaky breath. “That’s not right,” he whispers.

It must be a larger nightmare. Or maybe since it’s leaving him idle, it’s at a lull in its dream, distracted somewhere…

Riku turns away to sniff out the source. Nightmares have a distinct, almost dark smell, but it’s never strong enough to be immediately obvious. He has to search, and to do that he has to follow the layered cobblestone paths Ven’s subconscious has littered all over the place like confetti. It’s not a maze, it’s just… a lot of pathways. Riku finds himself searching for a while before it reveals itself.

There it is. Under the bridge, a strange-looking Skelterwild is preening itself and pulling bits of the nightmare bubble it had crafted back and forth, like a toy. It’s a little… gooier than the nightmares tended to be with Sora, but it doesn’t look anything special.

Riku edges closer. It looks like it’s just the one, if he remembers anything about nightmare packs and how solitary the really big ones usually are. He can definitely take it.

It turns away, and Riku lunges.

For a big dinosaur spirit, it comes apart pretty easily — claws lodged between its armor plating wrench one of its legs free from its body, the resulting thrash nearly sending Riku into the underside of the bridge. It howls at him, a rattling garbage disposal sound more than anything, and Riku sneers right back. He dodges its jaws neatly, and rams his keyblade right into the thin part of its neck. The skelterwild makes one last screech loud enough that Riku hopes Ventus didn’t hear, and collapses into three separate pieces of dissolving nightmare.

Riku dismisses Braveheart and finds himself with a small smile playing across his face. He had missed this — doing his job, fulfilling some sort of innate purpose he wasn’t aware he was longing for. Sora has always just filled in pieces of him that he wasn’t aware were missing pieces until the puzzle got scattered. In losing Sora, his purpose had become the same way, scattered, in more ways than one, apparently. Riku’s smile falters a little. This puzzle piece wasn’t the right color, or even perfectly shaped, but… it fit well enough.

The skelterwild left a small assortment of pieces behind — most notably a few shuddering wild fantasies among the slowly-fading nightmare essence. Riku had decided a long while ago that he’d call it “essence”, because it’s not meat and it’s not melty corpse or spirit clouds or anything, it’s just the left behind base form of nightmares whatever shape they take and it also smells and tastes very very good and if he ever has to explain that whole dream eater phenomenon to anyone who isn’t either Bumpis the meow wow (constant thief of perfectly good food) or Sora himself, essence is the word he’s calculated to have the least amount of follow-up.

In any case he usually likes the bigger nightmares, they tend to leave more behind and have more of a form in the first place, like the fruit bits in a marmalade rather than just the jam runoff at the top. Riku runs his tongue along his fingernails, contemplating the value of taking those dream pieces, and paws through the remaining nightmare essence to swipe up a bit more of a reward. He’s not particularly hungry, and he’s maybe a little self conscious about eating someone else’s nightmares.

(He notices Ven’s nightmare tastes a little less sickly-sweet and a little more sharp, like if freezer burn was mildly pleasant. He would liken it to mint, if it had a physical flavor.)

Almost like a computer powering down, the odd building-stones that surround them start to grey in color — the nightmare is fading. If he’s right, they should just fade into something nicer like a day at the market, or a puppy convention, or another one of Sora’s dreams he had laughed and rolled his eyes at.

Or, y’know, they could suddenly start disappearing altogether and send things sailing into the void.

Iiiiincluding Ventus.

Riku, having very little time to think about this, scrambles out from under the bridge as it too falls apart at the seams (the wrong ones, not stone by stone, but scrap by scrap ripped off a magazine spread). He spreads his wings, hoping the transformation lasts a little longer, and zips past dissolving flowers and flyers and scoops up Ven in one swift movement.

Ven lets out a little squeak of horror at the sudden jolt to a stop and subsequent momentum upwards, and buries his head in his jacket. Riku keeps going up, because that’s the easiest way to move away from the collapsing nightmare, and eventually new ground will form below them.

Unless it doesn’t. Maybe he should interfere a little bit more, make sure the next dream is nice…

As suddenly and gently as the void disappears below him, a soft expanse of sand appears where it fades away, and Riku stops flying and lets himself drift slowly to the ground, familiar palm trees placing him exactly where he exists in memory. It looks like Ven’s been here too, sometime, seeing as the basic structure of the dream is his, Riku’s just the guiding force keeping the dock where it should be.

He didn’t come here on purpose, really, it’s just been on his mind. But it’s a safe place. And maybe kind of familiar enough to keep him sustained for the rest of the night.

Ven, for his part, falls out of Riku’s arms with a whoop!, right on top of what probably used to be a silly sand sculpture. He jumps off immediately, mortified, and then sullen when he apparently realizes what he did.

“Ugh,” Ven pouts, and kicks at the scattered lump of sand. “Now I have to build this thing all over again.”

“…A sandcastle?” Riku asks.

“No, if I’m gonna find experiment 626 again, I need a ship. I’m trying out different materials since my old one blew up.” He kneels, and starts scooping sand back into a neat pile.

Riku’s not a stranger to how dream logic works, though it’s not really that much easier to follow now than it was the first time Sora changed topics on a dime. “Good luck, then,” he says, and turns to leave. And then… turns back around, and after a moment of hesitation: “Can I help with anything?”

Ven leans back and flips his head up, thinking. He’s in a pair of shorts, now, though the rest of his outfit hasn’t caught up, and the contrast is funny-looking. “Ummm… could you see if there’s glue anywhere?”

“Glue… for sand?”

“Yeah! To make it stronger.”

“Alright.”

“Thanks, Riku!”

There’s not going to be glue anywhere else on the island, but that was a dismissal good enough for Riku to be sure Ven wasn’t still caught on the edges of a true nightmare. The dream is already kind of fuzzing and blurring into thought-shift cotton.

But just to be doubly sure. Riku pulls and twirls the dream between his fingers, weaving it just a little brighter, a little sweeter. He’s not sure exactly what he’s doing to the dream itself, but Ventus deserves something nice after visiting the realm of darkness for as long as he had. The memories it leaves are not usually kind.

Riku leaves once he hears a familiar peal of laughter come from behind him somewhere — and had he turned around, the sight of Ven in full-on vacation clothes and sunglasses holding a little blue alien thing right up to Terra’s face might have made him stay just for the atmosphere of it.

...

crash lands vanitas and ven on lilo and stitch GET STITCH PARALLELLED (this is just a silly script i was going to make into a comic but started to prose it)

Ventus and Vanitas are hurtling through gummispace at very high speeds, and what exactly got them into this situation is a blur of scuffling and curses and chasing each other down not to make a giant sword this time but not not make a giant sword if it means getting the stuff you took back, but that doesn’t particularly matter, because hurtling through gummispace at very high speeds tends to overrule everything else.

And as such, neither of them notice that they’re hurtling through gummispace at very high speeds towards a world they’re going to collide with if they don’t cut it out. Which they do not, obviously.

The first indication that something is wrong is the sudden introduction of gravity. See, the keyblade gliders can go very high, but it’s not like the pilot can just ignore gravity. You have to be very skilled in order to fly one without crashing.

No one is piloting.

/////////the glider screeches thru space with ven and vani practically wrestling over it it careens off course Poff! Through the clouds, and at this point ven realizes he’s going to Crash and kicks at vani to get back on top, but vani grabs vens feet sending the whole thing spinning head over tail until it makes a gloriously comedic CRASH right into a patch of palm trees on the beach we see vanitas eat sand as he lands in an awkward somersault on his face hb HGBPRHHWHTH. PHEH. PTH. eugh. vanitas looks around and sees… pretty much hawaii, but he doesn’t know that. A street by the beach, houses behind fences and plants and palm trees, sand and rocks, a couple people walking where they can’t really see them, a hen strutting by. he also sees ven laying down next to a pretty large rock in the sand with his helmet knocked off. seeing that that’s his priority right now, he puts his helmet on and strides over to him ventus? hey. ventus. (Kick. Kick. Kick kick kick kick kick SAND THROWN IN FACE.) ACK. hgwhrtynbghmmhhh. what. no, never mind. wake up. you crashed us on another world, idiot, I don’t sense anything. Get us out of here. mheadh hurts. goway (Exasperated) Just use cure. Esuna , whatever, eat a gummy bear. Fix it. (vanitas cannot do either of these things and do you think he carries potions bc I don’t) mm. … (ven is just grasping at the air repeatedly) what are you doing itwont … mmm. (Hisses) You can’t summon your keyblade?!! Then how are— i know. ijudgnmth…. …be less loud. vanitas, a little concerned that he’s broken and therefore he’s stuck in hawaii forever until someone comes to find him and probably kill him, starts poking around at ventus. But before he can find anything, a voice offscreen goes HEY hm HEY!!!! hm stitch launches himself at vanitas’ face. ACKHBPTJ he drags him off and stands there holding him by the scruff but meanwhile stitch realizes venven is here and sproings away off of vanitas face again venven!!!! ……..626? whatreeyou doing here? (garbled stitch noises) whoa … (garbled stitch noises) (incomprehensible slurred ventus speech) (vanitas is losing his marbles)

You didn’t answer my question. (vanitas startles and whips around and summons his keyblade. Lilo is standing there precociously.) Are you aliens? Are we… what?! You fell from the sky on a spaceship. Plus you look weird and alien-y. Where’s your face? (Offended) I do not— How are you talking? yanks off his helmet. Who are you? It’s alright. I know a lot of aliens. Are you bad guys???? On the run from the government????????? The What? you kind of look like weird tourists, actually Vanitas picks her up so she stops circling him and poking at him. That’s enough. Hey! HRRRRRRRH (stitch noise) vanitasknnock it off. ven turns over to see what’s going on but there’s Sun this way, so he groans and covers his eyes is he okay? He’s fine. We’re fine. Leave us alone, we’re not aliens. he doesn’t LOOK okay. You should come back to my house before the government finds you. The govermen aren’t looking for us . I’m gonna go get my sister. Guard him. HRRRRRH. ……?!!!

… vani: what Are you supposed to be name stitch. oh. Uh… I’m not telling you my name. Ven… friend? No. (Alien muttering) ……… ……(uncomfortable)...... …….(a scrapper pops up)

/////Who are you? I am the darkn- look, it doesn’t matter. When is he supposed to wake up?

...

an au where riku is a youtuber and also owns eight cats? i dunno what this one is theyre cats though

Hey! So um, my last video got super popular for no reason, but a lot of you guys were asking who the kitties were in the background. So. Let me introduce you all to my cats! I have eight cats. All of them are rescues. I didn’t mean to get eight cats, this just happened to me. This is Sora. He’s the first cat I found and the cat from the last video, and he’s the love of my life. He likes to sleep on top of my head. He’s the king of the house, not because he’s the oldest or anything but because when he wants to do something stupid he’ll get everyone else to do it with him. I found him as a little teeny baby behind my house. He walked into my house, I did not invite him, he decided he wanted to live here first. This is Kairi, she’s my second. I found her as a kitten under a boardwalk and she nearly took my finger off for touching her, but her secret is if you scratch right behind her ears she purrs like a motor. She’s a very quiet kitty, but she only likes crunchy kicky toys, so I can tell when she’s playing. She and Sora will play this game where they sing in the hallway and whoever is louder gets to start chasing the other one. This is Ven! He’s the oldest I think, but not by very much. He likes to investigate the camera whenever I film—(muffled sniffing) AHEM. I dunno if you saw but one of his eyes is clouded? He’s half blind, but he’s the one who jumps at me from the top of the cupboards, so it doesn’t seem to bother him. He’s very sweet, he is always grooming the other cats. I think he knows he’s the big brother. He also gets the zoomies every night at 11 pm so. This one is Vanitas. (MRAAAOW) He’s always tagging along with Ven, and (MRAH) he likes to yell at the camera whenever I film. He is the rowdiest and the worst (MAH) influence. He’s got a cute little nub tail, but he doesn’t like people touching it. I found both of these guys on the freeway at like 2 am, Ven had been… hit, we think, and Vanitas was really sick. He was doing okay enough to bite me though. We took them to the vet and everything and Ven was mostly ok, just super scared of me and really weak, but Van had to have his tail amputated and surgery for his intestines along with all the mange and he haaated me for nearly a month. I was scared I’d have to release him for being too feral. He’s super food motivated, though, so that made him warming up to me like this easier. Ow. Van This is Roxas! The one sleeping next to him is Xion. I actually fostered both of them before just flat out adopting them, they came out of a house fire, they had been living in the garage. You see here, Roxas has burns all on his paw pads… they’re healing pretty slowly. When he first came home he couldn’t walk on them, we had these cute little casts that he toddled around on. He’s a pretty small cat compared to some of the other male cats, but he’s got a very big attitude, if I’m doing something he doesn’t like, he will tell me. Very calm most of the time, though. If I open a tuna can his eyes go so big. Xion is even more mellow until you bring out the feather toys, which she loves playing with. She’s also really curious, so if I’m making myself a snack, she’s on the counter with Vanitas trying to see what my snack is all about. Sometimes I catch her trying to do the human things I do to get her own snack? It’s very cute. If you look — oops. Roxy didn’t like me doing that. But if you look at Xion’s fur she’s mostly black except a stripe down her tummy. She didn’t get quite so badly burned, but her fur was very singed for a while. This is Namine! She’s very pretty, and she has a very pretty voice, do you want to say something for the camera? mrrrh? yeeahh. Anyways, she was actually a show cat, or she was going to be. But her previous owner had some legal trouble and had to surrender her. She’s very shy,////////

...

sprawl thing

But first SECTOR SEVEN’S MOST WANTED

You shuffle through the photos in the box. There’s a good amount of them, not award-worthy, more like a beginners scrapbook. Some of these are a little thicker — they’re videos. You grab one at random and press play.

sora: Vanitas!! How does it feel being wanted for a million billion credits on the black market Well it’s nice to be wanted. Vanitaaaas :( Vanitaaaaaaaaa Sora get- SORA I am cutting FISH

Ven how does it feel being the only outside source on Unity in the whole universe probably! Kind of terrifying why You should be used to it. You’ve always been a hot commodity :] ….,(shoves camera)

(Roxas is in the aftermath of his own explosion accident) Roxas how does it feel being smarter than everyone in this room If I wasn’t here you’d all die We sure would

Xion (in tideweather;s hangar) how did it feel stealing this from the government Ballin’ You heard it here folks the law doesn’t apply to me if I have an eighteen foot flying tank!!!!!

Sora how does it feel being the only one able to make mom’s pancakes without burning them (those pancakes are of the DEVIL) Pretty gooooood. :]

That must be from later. In the story, at least. Vanitas looks… less murderous than you expected.

...

vanitas spooks even lol

There’s a knock on the door, but no person at it. Even squints, slowly putting down his paper file folders, and then leans forward a little off his desk to peer around the corner. He’s about to write it off when he glances to the right, and finds a dark shape a little too close for comfort.

He jumps backwards, startled, and squints harder. Vanitas just stands there looking unimpressed.

“Goodness!” Even barks. “A little warning would have been prudent.”

“I knocked.”

“You ding-dong ditched my laboratory,” Even grouses, ignoring the way Vanitas’ head cocks to the side. “Nevermind that. Did you need something?”

Vanitas kicks his heel against the ground. “Yeah, apparently you’re not supposed to grab hot pans without a mitten or something. It didn’t even hurt, but I guess it should have. Xion thinks it’s a replica thing and made me come.”

Were they cooking? Even’s first thought is wondering if they were cooking, and how much of the kitchen had burned down already. Though, his second is a mix of confusion and concern.

“Well, that can’t be it. I’ve input the same amount of nervous system data into each of the replicas, and they are perfectly tactile.”

“Nervous what? I don’t want that.”

“Nervous system. The process in your body that lets you feel when you touch physical objects. The — you should not be picking up hot pans without mitts,” Even sighs.

“Why?”

/////

....

i think thats it this post is too long already HFGEJHK

#sorry most of these ven has a Debatably Not Good time HGJFSYGGF im bullying him. and also giving him a kiss on the head #my writing #kh #kh ventus #AND OTHERS #kh vanitas #hes here often #wayfinders and riku show up #horrorwolves #sprawl au #theres uhhhhhh...... i dont think ill tag them they can hang out #i have One fic thats CLOSE to being done but isnt done about sora and ven going to rapunzel's wedding and i want to finish that

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cavalierious-whim · 1 year

Text

Childe hears Zhongli's voice for the first time and, oh, he's down bad.

You can also read here on AO3. Thanks to orokanacloud for collaborating with me and making such amazing spot art!

Zhongli lives in the sprawling apartment above his beloved bookshop.

His mornings follow a simple routine: he wakes up before his alarm, body used to his preferred early mornings. If he slept in his bed, he sits up and looks over to the empty side, sighing softly as he swallows down his misery. It’s been long enough for the pain to have eased—and it has—but it’s the little things that he tends to remember. The soft dip of the mattress under another person’s weight is one of them.

It’s why he prefers the couch even if it makes his back ache.

He’s a breakfast person, so he heads into the kitchen still in his pajamas. Takes the time to brew a pot of nice tea and sits by the bay window of his apartment that overlooks the Harbor. He sips and eats pastries with jam, watching the ocean waves. It’s quiet on this end of town, which he likes.

This morning, he lingers, fingers curled around his steaming mug as he looks out the window.

Childe. The mysterious man on the other end of the phone. Zhongli isn’t the type to open up to friends, let alone strangers but Childe made it easy to talk about the things that still hurt. And maybe it’s because they don’t know each other.

Zhongli figured there was no harm in chatting because they were likely to never talk again, but—

They texted all night. Zhongli feels better for it, like a weight in his heart has been lifted. He misses her—gods, does he—but he didn’t realize that he missed talking about her too. Childe didn’t judge. He let Zhongli ramble on and asked occasional questions, but—

It was nice. Zhongli typed until his thumbs cramped and his eyes burned from watching his phone screen too long. They bid each other good night and for the first time in what feels like eons, he fell asleep easily.

Another sip of his tea, the slightly-bitter tang of it washing over his tongue. He watches a neighbor hang a Yuletide wreath on their door.

[Childe]: Hey, thx for telling me about her[Childe]: Good night and sleep well

The texts from the night before flashed in the dark as Zhongli stretched out on the couch and pulled a blanket to his chin. Zhongli woke up more rested than he has felt in years.

His phone buzzes on the table and Zhongli figures it’s Xiao asking why he’s running late. He’s met with a surprise when he looks. “Oh,” he murmurs, his heart skipping a beat.

[Childe]: Good morning, Mr. Zhongli! [Childe]: Did you sleep well?[Childe]: (By the way, see? I can use proper grammar, thank you very much.)

Zhongli snorts, hiding a smile behind his palm.

“You’re late,” says Xiao the moment the door closes behind Zhongli with a little ding of the chime.

Zhongli shrugs. “I live upstairs. It’s not as though I have far to go.”

“You’re never late. The only time you were—” Zhongli freezes at that and Xiao clams up. Xiao fidgets, pulling at his fingers. “Ah, sorry, I’m—”

“It’s fine.” Zhongli’s tone is curt, but not unkind.

Xiao waffles back and forth with awkwardness. “Right,” he murmurs. “I’ll just—”

“Xiao,” says Zhongli, this time softer. “It was just a late morning for me. I slept in a bit and I enjoyed my tea. That is all.”

“A late…” Xiao’s expression shifts into something wary. “You do not have late mornings.”

“I did today.”

“You do not have—” Zhongli’s phone chirps and Xiao cuts himself off. The only person who texts Zhong is Xiao, so his gaze crinkles as his head tilts, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Zhongli casually looks at his phone, ignoring Xiao, laughing softly at the message.

[Childe]: Oh good, you’re alive. [Childe]: Wouldn’t want you keeling over, or something.

Zhongli pens a quick response.

[Zhongli]: I might be older, but I’m not quite dead yet.

“What on earth—”

“A wrong number,” says Zhongli easily. “Think nothing of it.”

Xiao hesitates. “I—you know what? I don’t want to know. Just…let’s get the place open, yeah?”

Zhongli doesn’t answer immediately, still staring at his phone.

[Childe]: Thnk Celestia. Hate 2 lose a new friend

[Zhongli]: Have you given up on proper typing so soon?

[Childe]: Sry. Hands were cramping[Childe]: U dn’t have arthritis?

The smile on Zhongli's face is probably a red flag, but Xiao, wisely, doesn’t say anything.

Xiao isn’t the type to gossip but he lasts a surprisingly long time before he asks.

“Spill,” he demands, dropping a plate of reheated leftovers onto the register counter in front of Zhongli, who blinks back, uncomprehending. Xiao grunts. “Don’t give me that look. You’ve been glued to your phone all day. Last time I checked, you were allergic to technology.”

He is not. Entirely. Zhongli takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I already told you—”

“Wrong number?” Xiao drawls. “Yeah, that’s what you said earlier.” A pause as he stabs at his own plate with a fork. They eat in the store because it’s never busy enough to bother customers, so Xiao just munches away as he carries on. “People don’t usually keep texting a wrong number back.”

“He—”

“He?” Xiao’s eyebrows raise. “That’s interesting. I assumed it was a woman—though maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“—is a friend,” finishes Zhongli with a glare.

Xiao bursts into laughter. “You don’t have any friends,” he says around a mouthful of food. Zhongli cringes at the lack of manners but he also doesn’t know what else he expected from Xiao. “I’m not even your friend and we’ve worked together, what—over a decade?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” mutters Zhongli. “Of course, you’re my friend.”

“Fine then, I’m your only friend—and no, Xiangling doesn’t count.”

“Ah, that reminds me.” Zhongli begins to dig in his back behind the counter. “She—”

“Stop changing the subject. What’s this guy all about?”

Zhongli hesitates as he sifts through his bag. He knows that Xiao won’t stop pestering him until he spills, so there isn’t a point in skirting around the truth. He’ll also know if Zhongli lies, or admits information, even if Xiao won’t call him out on it. He’ll just watch from afar, mouth pursed as he scans books whilst glaring at Zhongli and ignoring the customers.

“I texted Guizhong.”

Xiao’s expression instantly changes. “Zhongli—”

“No, it’s fine. This is nothing new. I do it every year. Only, this time, there was someone on the other end.” Zhongli laughs, a soft and bitter sound. “I was angry at first. Or rather, not angry, but…” He waves vaguely and Xiao nods. “But he was kind and he asked about her.”

“And you just… told a stranger about her. Zhongli, that’s ridiculous.”

“Yes,” he agrees sheepishly. “Looking back it wasn’t smart.” Zhongli pauses and takes a bite of his food. “Do you remember what Guizhong used to say about gut feelings?”

Xiao doesn’t answer immediately. “‘Listen to your gut for you are the wisest person in your life’,” recites Xiao.

“I’ve ignored it for a while—my gut, that is. I certainly haven’t wanted to listen to anyone lately. But this time…” Zhongli sighs in resignation. “I just had a feeling, and I think it was the right one.”

“Well, does the weird stalker have a name?”

Zhongli sniffs, offended. “He isn’t a stalker. His name is Childe.” Which sounds ridiculous and incredibly fake the moment he says it aloud. Xiao snorts, shoving another bite of food into his mouth, rolling his eyes when Zhongli reaches over to swat at him.

“Well, your phone’s going off again. Better answer, otherwise he might think you’re dead.”

“You know, he said the same thing earlier—”

“Shit. Is he young?” Xiao’s eyes narrow, cat-like as he smirks. “Didn’t peg you as the type to rob the cradle.”

“I am not. And yes, he is a little younger—but older than you. He and I aren’t that different in age.” Much. Zhongli distinctly remembers there’s a math equation for this. He’ll have to look it up later.

Xiao hums, disbelieving. “Assuming he’s telling you the truth. For all you know he could be elderly and living in a home.” They both know that isn’t likely, though, and burst into laughter. Xiao nudges Zhongli with his elbow. “So, if you’re willing to chat with strangers, does that mean you’ll talk to the bank?”

“Xiao.”

“That’s a no then.” Xiao grabs a stack of envelopes from the shelf under the register and tosses them onto the counter. “Bills. Past due. You can’t ignore them forever.”

“I am not.” Xiao levels him with a knowing gaze and Zhongli sighs. “I won’t. Truly, Xiao, I have this handled.”

Xiao raises an eyebrow. “Do you? Because Pantalone left a message on the shop phone and he didn’t sound so happy. I don’t pretend to know the guy, but—”

“He agreed to give me some time. We’ll figure this out.”

“You’ll figure this out,” corrects Xiao. “Look, I love you, but this is your mess, not mine. I tried to help but you’ve gone and dug yourself deep and I’m too fucking short to pull you back out.” He taps the bills before standing. “At least open them. Do a little bookkeeping or something. Pretend that you care.”

“Xiao, I care.”

“Do you?” Xiao grabs his plate. “Because I feel like you stopped caring years ago and this place is nothing but an eyesore to you.” He says nothing else as he turns and leaves, heading into the back to clean his plate.

Zhongli stays there, sitting on his stool, picking at his cold food. Xiao is wrong, of course. The bookshop is his solace, the last thing of Guizhong’s that he lets himself keep. They opened this place together with their love for storytelling, keen on spreading that joy to anyone who walks through the front door.

But as someone steps in, the doorbell chiming crystal clear through the space, Zhongli feels resentment that he’s never quite noticed before. His days are long and lonely. He’d rather be upstairs, drinking tea and watching others.

Perhaps Xiao is right. Then Zhongli’s phone vibrates.

[Childe]: Lunch after noon? I thought old guys ate in the mid-morning.

The tension in Zhongli eases as he shakes his head, chuckling softly. What a ridiculous thing to say. But also, what a ridiculous thing Zhongli does by answering.

“Sooooooo, who’re you texting?”

“No one,” says Childe automatically. He’s staring at his phone, clearly typing out a message but it’s not as though he owes Venti an explanation for anything that he does.

Venti lays on the break room couch, head hanging off the arm as he watches Childe with a narrowed gaze, mouth curved into a mischievous grin. “Did you download a dating app?”

“What? No!” Childe is nearly offended. He picks people up the good old fashioned way—at least, when he’s feeling like it. Hooking up through an app feels impersonal which is funny considering his newfound friendship with Zhongli. It doesn’t feel lacking in its depth, it’s strangely sincere despite how fresh it is.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” says Venti. “I’m just curious as to who you’ve been swiping right on—”

“Venti, I swear to Celestia, it’s not a dating app. I’m not swiping right on anyone.”

Venti’s expression curdles as he pities Childe. “Well, that’s a waste, isn’t it?”

“I’m not—” Childe pauses, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I’m here to work, you know. I don’t need distractions.”

“Like whoever it is your texting.” There’s no judgment in Venti’s voice, he just states it plainly. “Childe, if it’s just a friend, that’s also cool. I’m just trying to make conversation.” He pauses as he flips over on the couch, laying on his stomach. “Also, I’m here if you need advice. I know you don’t really casually fuck, but—”

“Venti.”

Venti shrugs. “I’m just saying as a friend. I know you aren’t against hook-up culture but lately you’ve just been…” He waves vaguely. “The point is, I can tell you’re off. So I’m here, or whatever.”

Childe sighs. He knows that. As insufferable as Venti is, he’s more than just a coworker. And despite being a horrific drunkard, he has his moments of sound advice. Childe’s finger swipes over his screen as silence settles between them. Venti hums softly as he stares at the ceiling.

“It was a wrong number,” says Childe eventually. “Turns out the number I was given by the agency used to belong to this guy’s dead wife. He texted her a Merry Yuletide because it brings him comfort or whatever and I just…” Childe groans. “Man, it was depressing as fuck. I felt bad for him.”

“And so what, you’ve just been chatting ever since?”

Childe shoots him a sidelong glance. “I could just tell he was lonely, so I offered to listen. And shit, Venti, this guy—the way he talks about her. At first it was awkward, but then it was like, ‘Man, I actually enjoy reading this’... It’s like a storybook romance, the kind that everyone wants to experience. I figured he’d just thank me and that’d be it, but I checked on him the next morning and just—”

“What’s his name?”

“Zhongli.”

Venti snorts. “Sounds like he gave you his real name.”

“Yeah, he’s older and I don’t think that he thinks about stuff like that.”

“Older?” Another grin tugs Venti’s mouth wide.

“Archons, not that much older. He’s barely into his forties. And it’s not like I’m young.” Childe’s in the middle of his thirties and he’s just starting to feel it in his bones.

Venti tuts. “Yeah, I heard the casting director talk about how you’re getting past your prime.”

“You did not,” huffs Childe. But Venti’s look is mysterious and Childe knows the modeling world. He’ll always find work, but his heydays will soon be over. Who knows what Venti actually heard? Childe sighs again. “Look—”

“I think it’s cute,” cuts in Venti. “Like, I’m your friend but we’ve also fucked, so that makes it weird. You deserve a guy who’s just… I don’t know—genuine? You’re a good judge of character, so I trust this dude if you do.”

Does Childe trust Zhongli? Yes. He shouldn’t but he does.

Venti watches him for a moment longer and then says, “So, are you going to fuck him?”

Childe, who just took a sip of water, nearly sprays it everywhere. He chokes, beating his chest to try and clear his airway. “Venti, he’s—”

“Don’t say straight. Just cause the guy married a woman doesn’t mean he isn’t equal opportunity.”

“He types with proper grammar. Like, actual punctuation. Long, carefully thought words and turns of phrase that I sometimes have to look up.”

“I’m just teasing you.”

Venti is not. Well, he is, but he isn’t. Venti has a particularly one track mind and it almost always ends up on the explicit end of things.

“I didn’t come here for that,” says Childe quietly. He rests an elbow against the table, and his chin into his hand. His phone flares and chirps.

[Zhongli]: Ah. I know a thing or two about vexing coworkers. [Zhongli]: Just remember you will find reprieve when you go home.

Childe snorts, hiding a smile behind his hand.

“How long have you been chatting, by the way?” Venti is genuine in his curiosity.

“Like a week? Nearly a week.”

It’s strange how it seems longer than that. Childe feels like he’s known Zhongli for years.

Later that night, Childe lays in bed with his phone in hand. Zhongli takes forever to type out his messages because of his prim demeanor but Childe still waits on the edge, anticipating his next words. He doesn’t know why he’s so interested, he just knows that it’s comforting.

Childe’s in Liyue for the holidays and doesn’t feel like spending the time with a coworker. Venti is fine but exhausting. Combined with their grueling hours, Childe’s patience is wearing thin.

Zhongli, though—

He’s patient. Kind. He blabbers on about whatever he likes and Childe just has to listen. Or not. If he doesn’t immediate respond, Zhongli pays it no mind. It’s easy-going and relaxed, which is a strange sort of comfort. Childe’s so used to having to network with everyone that the low expectations come as a welcome thing.

[Zhongli]: You would be surprised by just how difficult running a bookshop is. There are many factors involved. For one, the tastes of clientele widely vary. It’s a guessing game when it comes to stock.

Childe grins. Zhongli talks about his work with such fondness that he can’t help it, sucked in by how his messages seem so animated. More messages, more little dots, insufferably long paragraphs of overly descriptive explanations.

“It’s not like it’s interesting,” he mutters to himself. Oh, but it is. It’s a glimpse into a world that Childe doesn’t know much about, and Zhongli sharing it willingly helps settle a lot of Childe’s unconscious anxiety.

He hasn’t shared what he does, not yet. Childe relishes the fact that Zhongli doesn’t know who he is and wants to keep it like that for as long as possible.

Eventually, Childe’s eyes start to droop. The screen of his phone is a little too bright in the dim room and he rubs at his face. He doesn’t want to stop chatting, though. He’s tired but won’t sleep. So, he stares at his phone, finger hesitating before he types.

[Childe]: feel free to say no but[Childe]: wld u rather talk on the phone? Ur hands must be sore from all the typing

Three dots appear and then disappear. Childe’s gut curdles, worried that maybe he’s crossed a line.

But then his phone rings, the caller ID showing that it’s Zhongli. Childe hesitates even though he initiated this. Zhongli is still a voiceless man behind a screen but the moment he answers, all of that changes.

He answers.

“Ah, Childe. I was worried that perhaps you’d changed your mind.”

Oh. Oh. Childe’s mouth goes dry at the sound of Zhongli’s voice. Deep and mellow, an addicting baritone. He isn’t sure what he expected—maybe higher pitched and tinny. Older? Maybe even whiny, but—

“Hah, yeah, I—sorry I thought you’d message back first, not—” Childe swallows. “Doesn’t matter. I just… I just like hearing about your day. So just… whatever you want to talk about.” Because shit, Childe could listen to him drone on forever.

“I don’t want to bore you.”

“I promise you that you won’t.” Childe thinks he could listen to Zhongli describe paint drying and be into it.

Venti teased him about this, laughing about how it could be more. And, Celestia above, Childe isn’t looking for something. But there’s no denying that Zhongli calms him. It’s been a week and he hasn’t lost interest. He looks forward to their exchanges.

A quiet sigh from the other end of the phone. “I see. Well, let me tell you about this order that I just placed. I doubt that these books are the sort of material that you enjoy, but nonetheless…”

Zhongli keeps talking, his mouth curling around his words, lilting as his tone rises and falls. Childe switches his phone to speaker mod and settles it near his ear. He closes his eyes and listens, letting Zhongli’s voice lull him into a doze.

That first night when Zhongli talked about his wife, Childe had the distinct thought that they had a storybook romance, the type that feels like a fairytale. But here, as Childe listens to him, his chest feels light. His heart jumps into his throat and his cheeks feel like they burn pink.

Love at first sound, he thinks. Surely not. Childe isn’t lucky enough to fall so easily into that sort of trope.

But the idea of it is appealing.

#genshin impact fanfic #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fanfiction #zhongli x childe #childe x zhongli #zhongli/childe #childe/zhongli #zhongchili

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fuckingdrawbacks · 5 months

Text

i still feel shitty and it pains me that i cant tell u that.

i remember winter when we still had our honeymoon phase. we walked around, holding hands, cuddling, eating those curly fries and falling asleep together. i remember walking on that winter fair the first time we went there together. it felt magical and after those two years, i still fucking wish we could go there together again. i wish we could drive in your parents car to your city, ticking each other every now and then, holding hands and resting our heads on each other's shoulders.

i remember when you got your septum piercing. you sent me to your apartment to hide those piercings and to prepare for your parents to come. i think it was early November, because i had that spooky seasonal starbucks drink. i couldn't get into your apartment because we hid the key inside the building, but i couldn't get into it. i wanted to pick the lock, but every now and then someone would walk somewhere. ultimately someone was going in and i went behind him. it's a stupid memory but i remember it so vividly. i remember the spark in your eyes when we were sitting in your room.

i remember waking up on those early winter mornings, all cold because of your fixation with opening the windows. i was really fucking cold, because you always took all of the blankets over to your side, and i wanted you to be cozy. i felt cold on my skin, but inside i was all warm, because i was laying by your side and i was so fucking happy. i wish we could go back in time, so that i still could fall asleep next to you.

i remember your sleeping face when i woke up before you. it's so clear. i don't even remember how you look now, but i perfectly recall every single detail about how you looked on those mornings. i remember your stripy shorts and your (occasionally blank) white tee. i remember you looking for your frog plushie when it fell from the bed. i always helped you look for it and i found it first pretty often. i wonder if you also have those memories. i really hope that they are not painful to you.

i wonder what you think of me; i wonder if you still love me at least a little bit.

i still hope that one day we will get together again. i don't know if i love you for who you are right now, i don't even think that i really know you right now. but i'm 1000000% sure i still love the person you were when we first met. i know that you're not that person anymore, but even if there's still a part of her in you, i still love you to death.

i wish you could read those messages, i wish they could change anything, i wish you wouldn't tell me that i should talk to someone. i wish i could talk to you instead. i wish i could hold your hand, i wish i could wake up and see your sleeping face again.

my mind has been racing a lot lately. i had troubles sleeping for a while now, but i don't think they were so severe as they are right now. the last time i fell asleep quickly and didn't feel tired when i woke up was back in your apartment. i think every single time we slept together i fell asleep quickly. i think i felt safe; my mind wasn't racing, my heart wasn't beating so hard that i could literally hear it. i've been having problems with that too. i try to fall asleep, and after a while my heart starts beating so fast that i feel like im about to faint. maybe i should get it checked out, but honestly, i don't want to live if i can't be by your side.

i don't want to be that guy; i don't want to sound like an asshole, but i feel like there's no one that will love you as much as i do. i hope that it's not true; i hope that you will find love and that you will feel loved and appreciated and that you will actually feel good. i just wish so fucking much that it could be me.

i cried so much when i came back home after that night. i lost you and all that was keeping me alive was my dog. now that she's gone too, i've been feeling nothing. i've been feeling empty, without any point in life. i feel like it's not real, that i will wake up any moment; that i will walk downstairs and that she will be there, sleeping where she always were.

i find myself breaking down more and more lately. maybe it's for the better, because after some crying i'm able to fall asleep. the only thought that puts me at ease is you. it's so fucked up that after all that time i'm still breaking down and i'm unable to calm down without thinking of you. and you don't know about it, you just play some games with him, and you spend your days without even thinking about me once. maybe it's not true and i don't want to blame you - i'm not - but it feels weird to me that i'm still addicted to you and that you don't give a shit about me. i mean, not that i'm telling you about this, so why would you. i'll be fine eventually. i really hope so.

i remember your face when you facetimed me that one time you didn't want to come home. i remember how much tears you shed; i remember how your skin was shining because of those tears. i felt so scared. you were living in a dangerous place and it was pitch black outside. i remember how my voice was breaking when i asked my dad if he could drive me over to you. i remember how scared i was when driving to you. and i remember how broken i felt when i came to your room and you didn't even look at me. i didn't expect you to come into my arms; i didn't do it for me to feel better. i just wanted to see that you were okay and i was scared that you would do something to yourself. i always cared about you so so so much, i still do. i still occasionally get thoughts that you did something to yourself, that maybe something has hit you, that maybe you fell over. i don't fucking know, i just hate not knowing if you're okay. i never cared about a human being as much as i cared about you. i don't care about a human being as much as i STILL TO THIS DAY care about you. even after all of this, you're still my everything. i love you so fucking much and i miss you so much, i can't even articulate how much i miss you. i prayed to every god i know; i even bought stupid fiverr manifestations for us to come together; i beg every power that there may be for me to wake up in the morning back in 2021. everything reminds me of you - i went outside one day to feed that cat that comes to us and i felt like when i was coming to your apartment from the bus stop. just because it was an afternoon during fall. i still fucking feel like that every time i go out. i need to focus so much to not just burst into tears every time i go outside during fall/winter. just because i remember when we used to go out when there were fallen leaves everywhere. and i miss it so much.

i still didn't remove a single picture with you. they're all there, just in the hidden section, so that i don't stumble upon them by accident. i don't want to remove them in case we get together. i don't want to lose those memories. i don't want to lose reminiscence of the last time i felt happy. and i'm not joking - i don't remember a single time i felt actually good and happy since that night when i went out to look for you. i've been feeling empty ever since. like there was a part of me locked(?), like i left something with you.

i remember when we used to go shopping; i remember listening to music with one airpod each; i remember when you put that plunger on your head, i remember walking in those funny shops looking for stuff that could be funny. i wish i put that stupid necklace on, i wish i made one for you as well. i hate myself for not doing things like that in the moment. i fucking hate myself for that so much. every time i think of it i want to kill myself right on the spot. i wish there was anything that would fix what i did or didn't do in the moment. i feel so terrible having to live with those memories. i tried to get over them; i tried to forget them, i tried to hate you, i tried to just like you. nothing helped, nothing made me stop loving you and nothing made me feel better. you told me countless times that you don't remember half of the stuff i've been reliving every, single, night. i've tried to re-associate words we used or music we listened to. nothing worked. everything still reminds me of you. you changed me so much. you made me feel loved. you made me feel what love is and what actually caring about someone is. and i don't think i will ever get over you; that i will ever love someone as much as i loved you. and that i will ever feel as loved as much as you did.

sometimes i wish my parents hated me; i wish i ran away or something. i wish i could disappear or just kill myself without hurting others. i already lost my dog, and i feel so empty without her. there were many times when i almost killed myself and every time i didn't do it, it was because i got scared of how she would feel when i disappeared; how she wouldn't know what happened to me and how she would wait for me to come back. i feel scared of what will happen when i feel the urge to kill myself.

i don't think i will ever learn to live with just memories of you. i wish we could go to that winter fair and eat sushi at your parents house again.

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theninjasanctuary · 1 year

Text

Field notes from the trip, as written on the return flight:

A night at 4-star Citadines aparthotel at Les Halles cost very nearly the same as the one in cheapo Adagio Access near Bastille. The apartment at Citadines was easily twice as big, bigger than most Airbnbs I’ve rented, and well equipped (bath – a smallish one, but still; a balcony overlooking Fontaine des Innocents + another window with a view of the roofs of the Forum, dishwasher, kettle, toaster, microwave/grill and induction stovetop, would have been easy to cook full meals there), and if I had the budget for it/got someone else to pay for it, I’d stay there again. That being said, the floor was deathly cold; getting the shivers just thinking about it. And it didn’t have a dining table as such, but a generous desk and another fold-out chair in the hallway wardrobe (one of the two). No washer, but I’m thinking they probably have an in-house laundrette? The big room was a bit too dark at night, just wall sconces and a small table lamp on the desk, definitely not ideal for reading an actual book in bed. The bathroom vanity looked cheap to begin with and pretty tired, too, not luxurious.

The other 2 hotels were fine too, the room in Adagio Access had had a kitchen upgrade; the B&B Hotel thing had a tiny room, sparsely, if not stingily equipped (no soap by the sink; just a wall-mounted shower gel in the shower? No hand towels, just a bath towel per person?), but it was fresh-looking, clean and functional, and I slept like a log.

I had some terrible food (starving late one night and out of options, we ate at a Buffalo Grill, even the fries were bad) and some good too; found a restaurant called Le Lieu Dit that I would be happy to visit again. Ate on the go a lot, and I’m fed up with sandwichs and pastries for a while, I think. Mostly, I’m glad that my knees held up, and I didn’t get a cold. Can’t say the same for the boyf, and I might yet get what he’s got, but oh well.

Travelling part was uneventful, managed to not get caught up in strikes and thanks to the hotel staff, got a taxi to the train station during a high-demand morning station rush on Sunday. However, Google Maps is not great for directions in Paris. It routinely underestimated travel times, suggested getting off the bus in the wrong place, and we would have missed our TGV if it wasn’t for helpful bystanders.

Visited the Paris embassy on business (have been to London, Berlin, Brussels and Paris now, and also have had dinner in a New York sushi restaurant with the consul stationed there; this was never a goal in itself, it has just happened).

Didn’t shop much, a bit of skincare repurchases (Furterer shampoo, Biotherm SOS spray, Cattier hand cream, etc.), and a Uniqlo ULD collarless jacket, because it looked right on my most basic of asses. Ofc it is soft pink, too, because that too tends to look right on me. The plan is to wear it to the office under looser and thinner wool coats, and it’ll help putting up with the office temperature that’s been lowered as a cost-saving measure. Got an impressive amount of tea, too, Chinese and Taiwanese imports from Tang Frères and Twinings teabags in varieties probably intended for the French market, as I haven’t seen them anywhere else. Tuiles d’amandes seem to be having a moment, stocked up on those and some Bonne Maman madeleines and whatnot too.

As for souvenirs, got some cute af Ghibli chopsticks. Haven’t bought sushi in a while for reasons of being broke though. Have to pay the bills and see where I’m at. Anyway, the plan for tomorrow is to stay at home, maybe a quick run for groceries, and pet the cat. He has coped ok without us, but appears to be waiting for someone (he’s very alert to door-opening sounds, but we share a hallway door with the neighbours, so there’s a lot of disappointment).

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

doubts.

| loki x reader | fluff |

anon requested. loki kinda degraded sub!reader and she scrunches up all tiny and sobs afterwards because she thought he meant what he said

cw: slightly smutty, slightly angsty

You begged Loki to let you come, fighting against the magical restraints your dom had placed around your wrists and ankles.

“Oh, you want to come so bad you’re crying? You desperate, pathetic whore. You’re so fucking filthy, have you no shame?” Loki sneered, the words sending arousal pooling deep in your belly, even though you fought against it. Your body jolted at the slap administered to your inner thigh, a pained cry escaping your lips.

You’d been acting up and testing Loki’s patience, which is what earned you this punishment, your pleasure being dangled in front of you, just out of reach. You’d broken his rules, and he’d had enough of your attitude.

“Come now before I change my mind,” Loki’s tone was dangerous, and the pressure inside of you shattered. He followed your lead, finishing inside of you before he pulled out and made the restraints vanish.

As the pleasure wore off, his words echoing in your mind, You desperate, pathetic whore. You’re so fucking filthy, have you no shame?

Loki stood off of the bed, going to run you a hot shower. As soon as he’d stepped away, a sob tore through your chest, your shoulders heaving as you cried. You curled up in a ball, feeling small and alone on his massive bed.

Loki heard you crying, and he felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He abandoned the shower and ran to your side, kneeling down on the bed. You looked so tiny and fragile, folding in on yourself. His chest ached when he heard your soft sounds and saw the way your hands trembled as you tugged at your hair, trying to self-soothe. He reached out to pull your hands away, wanting to keep you from anxiously tearing the hair from your sensitive head.

“My darling-” his voice cracked when you jerked away from him. You hiccuped on your broken sobs as they wrecked you, emotion flooding every last thought and turning you into a mess.

Loki’s magic sparked around you, cleaning you up and leaving you both in loose clothing. The green shimmer surrounded you, Loki’s fruitless attempt to touch you without frightening you. It was warm, and seemed to buzz with its own life, but didn’t make you feel any better.

“My darling, have I hurt you? Tell me whatever is wrong so that I may fix it,” Loki begged, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms.

“Don’t touch me, please,” you tried to catch your breath, wanting to get your keys and leave.

He sank back, giving you space. His eyes were concerned and sad, and he fought against the urge to pierce into your mind, ripping the truth from you. The door vanished from the wall as you tried to run out, and you whipped around to face the god, who was kneeling on the bed and looking wounded. There was no exit, Loki keeping you contained to the bedroom until your devastation was resolved.

“Y/N, I won’t let you leave when you’re so upset. You cannot drive safely. If you wish, I can take you anywhere you want to go,” Loki fretted, and though you knew he was right, you only grew more and more upset.

“Come to me, darling,” Loki opened his arms, the authority in his voice making you comply. You knew this was a fight you couldn’t win. You’d end up in Loki’s arms confessing your pain whether by his will, or your own.

Your sobs broke his heart, and he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you down into his lap. He held you firmly, and eventually your struggling subsided as you let yourself weep against his chest.

“Please don’t make me pry the truth out of you,” Loki begged softly into your hair. He didn’t want to add to your pain, he only wanted to fix it. He was very aware that sifting through your mind to take your private thoughts was something that made you feel extremely violated. He wanted you to tell him on your own, but he wouldn’t let you keep such heartbreaking secrets from him.

“Y-you... did you mean what you said about me? That I was pathetic, and d-desperate and a whore?” You sobbed out, stammering over your words.

“Oh, oh my goodness. My darling, I am so sorry. I never meant any of that. I thought you understood I just said it in the scene... please my love, I adore you more than all of the stars. Never think you are not the most perfect, beautiful, eloquent, and lovely person in my eyes. I love you, I will never say such horrible things again.” Tears flowed freely down Loki’s face. You were startled, unused to seeing raw emotion from him, especially not guilt. It hadn’t occurred to you that the words Loki had spoken were just part of the scene, part of the sex you were having. He wasn’t typically fond of degradation, but he was experimenting in the moment, never expecting it to be received as genuine.

There was no room for doubt in his words. He meant his love then, and he would spend the rest of his life proving his love to you.

His strong arms cradled you against his body, trying to hold you together.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” he breathed apologies like a repetitive prayer.

You listened to his heartbeat, letting the rhythm slow your racing mind. Your sobs eventually subsided, calmed by the steady circles of his hand on your back.

“I forgive you,” your lips moved against the underside of his jaw.

“Please always stop me, tell me then, if anything at all makes you feel even the slightest bit unsafe. I never want you to feel this way again, certainly not at my fault,” Loki begged, and you nodded before burying your face back in him.

“Do you still love me?”

“I love you the most,” you promised.

Loki talked you into staying the night, doting on you to the point you were almost smothered. His magic conjured everything you wanted, even in the back of your thoughts.

“Do you want to go get some?” He asked, and you turned, tilting your head in confusion.

“To Paris. For the macarons.”

“You’re reading my thoughts,” you sighed softly, but a smile graced your expression as you kissed him.

“No, I’m sleepy. Maybe tomorrow?” You asked, and he nodded, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you back to bed.

You situated yourself in his arms, your back against his chest. His larger frame shielded you, wrapping you in safety and warmth. You slept soundly with him, the pain and uncertainty from the afternoon long gone and replaced by his love.

The smell of coffee rose you out of your sleep. Your eyes took a few moments to adjust to the soft light spilling in through the windows, and you sat up, suddenly realizing you weren’t in Loki’s bedroom at his apartment, where you’d fallen asleep.

“Loki?!” You called, and he leaned in the doorway.

“Good morning. I didn’t mean to frighten you. We took a short trip in your sleep. We’re at my Paris flat.”

You smiled, stretching your arms above your head as you yawned. Loki put a coffee in your hands, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

“If I cry will you spoil me more often?” You teased lightly, and he shot you his signature dom look of warning, making you shudder.

“It breaks my heart to see you cry, my darling,” Loki’s tone was apologetic, guilt still left over from the day before. You squeezed his arm as you sipped your coffee.

“I’m okay,” you swore, earning another kiss from your lover.

“Mm. Finish that up and we’ll go to the patisserie down the street.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled, happy you were cheered up and back to normal. He moved his fingers and a pretty sundress appeared hanging on the back of the washroom door for you, delicate white flats placed below.

“Dressing me up like your little doll?”

“Careful, or I will dress you, after I get that attitude in line.”

“I love the dress. And I can put it on by myself,” you apologized, pecking his lips before walking to the bathroom.

You returned in the sundress, a white beret adorning your head along with it. You relished in the bright smile Loki rewarded you with. In a shimmer of green, he was dressed in pastels that matched your own. You loved to see him in casual clothes instead of the Asgardian armor he frequently wore, and he indulged you for this small Parisian vacation.

“You look stunning, my darling.”

Giggles erupted from your lips, making Loki’s heart soften. He dipped his head down to kiss you, making your nose scrunch up in the cutest way that he loved. His long, slender fingers folded with yours, holding your hand as the two of you made your way out of the flat and onto the bustling street. You were thankful for the sunny weather, greatly improving your mood from the rough night in New York’s rain.

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” you nodded.

“Let’s get some crepes. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, Loki.”

The young god pecked your lips before pushing you inside of a patisserie.

“Salut,” the girl working called to the two of you as the bell clinged on the door.

“Darling, what would you like? We can take some macarons to go,” Loki asked, pointing to the pastries behind the glass.

You chose a few, and Loki rattled off your order in French to the shopkeeper, taking the bag from her and moving you to sit at a table in the corner for your crepes.

“Can we stay in Paris for a couple of days? Just us, not any of the distractions from New York,” you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder and accepting the bite he fed you.

“Most certainly.” He kissed the sugar off of your lips before the two of you left for a park with your snacks for later. Loki held your hand as you walked along a low stone wall beside him, your eyes level with the extra height.

“Y/N, you must know that you are so, so terribly loved.”

You turned and snaked your arms around his neck, looking deep into his crystal blue eyes.

“I do not doubt your love, Loki.”

#earl grey loki #loki fanfic #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader smut #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #marvel #avengers #loki smut #loki fluff #dom!loki #soft!loki #female reader

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dracossweetprincess · 3 years

Note

hii, can i order one wherever the reader's birthday is, and Draco gives him presents and things like that, and at the end of the day they fuck? make it fluff but also smut, thanks in advance🤍

spoiled | d.m

dracoxfem.reader

request: yes/no

preview: it’s y/n’s birthday, and draco plans to spoil her rotten.

warnings: draco being a simp for his gf, draco being a softie, SMUT (+18), fluffy smut, praising kink, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that).

Since Draco found out what day Y/n’s birthday was, he had been planning that whole day since the moment they started dating. This was Y/n’s first birthday with Draco. She did expect Draco to spoil her a little bit, maybe get her some chocolates and flowers, but she had absolutely no idea what Draco had planned for the day.

Y/n slept soundly beside him, as they were staying at the Malfoy Manor for the holidays. Draco woke up with the sun hitting his pale face, slowly opening his eyes and stretching his arms. He smiled to himself remembering what day it was, wanting to give Y/n a birthday to remember. He turned around, rolling on top of her and starting to shower her face with kisses.

On her cheeks, on the tip of her nose, on her eyelids, in her forehead and finally on her lips. Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, as she smirked at the way Draco was treating her so lovingly. “Good morning, gorgeous.” Draco smiled down at her, leaning down to press another kiss to the tip of her nose as she scrunched it slightly, making Draco chuckle. “Happy birthday.”

“Good morning, Dray.” She let out a soft yawn, gently rolling Draco off of her and sitting up. “Today is your birthday and I’m spoiling you rotten, darling.” Draco smirked, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her on his lap. “Oh yeah?” She whispered in his year, pressing a kiss behind it sending shivers down Draco’s spine.

“Yes, but first I need you to wait downstairs.” Y/n scrunched her eyebrows, trying to figure out what Draco was up to but nodded in agreement jogging downstairs. She waited on the couch reading a book, when she felt Draco wrap his arms around her from behind. “Come on, pretty girl.” She chuckled, following him upstairs towards his room again.

The pair walked into Draco’s room, Y/n looking around to be met with about twenty different gifts spread all over his room. “Draco, what’s all this? It isn’t Christmas.” She asked a little in shock. “Presents.” Draco chuckled, wrapping his arms around her from behind and tucking his face on her shoulder. “Are all these from you?” Y/n asked, slightly worried. As much as all these gifts were nice, Y/n didn’t like it that Draco spent so much money on her.

“Yup.” He smiled proudly, as he absolutely loved buying her gifts. The smile on her face always made his heart swell, so he never exited to buy everything the girl looked at for more then five seconds when they were window shopping in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. “Draco! This must have cost a lot of money, I don’t want you spending so much money on me like that!” She scolded him.

“But why can’t I?” He whined like a little kid. “I need to spoil my baby.” He smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek. Y/n sighed, considering herself defeated and opened all of the gifts. The gifts were things like perfumes, flowers, chocolates, clothes, and her absolute favorite was a soft dark green sweater that had the words “Draco Malfoy’s property” sewed on it.

The pair ended up cuddling in Draco’s bed again, until lunch time. Y/n starting to feel hungry. “Alright, let’s go back downstairs and see what we can make for lunch.” She got up, but Draco grabbed her arm making her turn around again. “What? No! Let’s go to my mom’s tulip garden, I have a picnic ready, I’ve been planning it for weeks.” Y/n’s heart swelled at the sweet gesture.

“Wait, really?”

“Of course, angel.” They walked towards Narcissa’s beautiful tulip garden, hand in hand. It was possibly the most beautiful garden Y/n had ever seen, and it was definitely her favorite part of the Manor. Y/n gasped as they got closer to the picnic, seeing a blanket spread on the grass with a variety of her favorite foods. Spaghetti, brownies, cookies and pink lemonade. “Do you like it?” Draco asked, pleased with himself for being able to put a smile on her face.

“Like it? Draco I love it.” She hugged him around the waist. “I’m glad, love.” They both sat down, Y/n resting her head on Draco’s lap letting him feed her and play with her hair after a little fight over how she could feed herself. Feeling the sun hit her face, making it hard to keep her eyes open and the soft breeze making her hair slightly messy.

They walked back to the Manor, Draco going to take a shower. He walked out of the bathroom, towel around his waist and wet hair. Y/n didn’t even notice, but she was staring. “Take a picture it’ll last longer.” He smirked, leaning against the bathroom door. “Like what you see, darling?” Draco let the towel fall to the floor, now standing completely naked in front of the girl making her gasp.

“Draco!” She hid her face on her pillow, trying to hide the fact that she was blushing madly. “Time for your last gift, darling. And since today’s about you, you get to choose whatever you want me to do to you.” He smirked, getting on top of Y/n and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I want your fingers, I want your mouth and I want your cock.”

“Mmm my greedy girl wants it all? Huh?” Y/n nodded, already feeling herself get wet at the thought of the activities that were about to happen. “Alright, darling. Just because it’s your birthday I’ll give you what you want.” Draco slowly unbuttoned her silky pijama top, groaning at the sight of her breasts already on display for him.

He pushed her bottoms down her legs, while massaging her breasts as the girl moaned quietly into his shoulder. Y/n shuddered feeling his breath over her sopping cunt, as Draco slid his index finger through her folds, spreading her wetness and bringing his finger into his mouth, sucking it clean. “You taste so good, darling.”

Without warning Draco slid through fingers in her cunt, immediately starting to pump them in and out at a fast pace. Draco rubbed circles on her clit, his fingers still reveling in her tightness. “Dray fuck! It feels so good.” She moaned. “Good girl.” He let out and added a third one. Draco continued continuously pumping roughly into her tight hole, placing kisses all over her, shoulders and breasts while she bucked against his hand trying to get more friction.

Y/n closed her eyes, focusing on the pleasure of the coil in her stomach as all she could think about were her boyfriend’s fingers fucking into her. “Draco, fuck!” She cried, as she started to come undone coating his fingers. Draco didn’t waist a second to pull his fingers from her cunt, and suck them clean again, not letting a drop go to waste. “Good job, love. You did so good. Now spread your legs so I can ruin you.”

Y/n was still in her aftershock, but obeyed spreading her legs wide giving him a clear view of her swollen pussy. “I want you to fuck my pussy. Want you to ruin me.” Y/n let out calmly, Draco’s eyes darkening at her words. Draco pumped his length in his hand, pushing inside of her without hesitation. Giving her a few seconds to adjust, he started thrusting hard and fast, the girl’s moans growing louder.

Draco moaned into her neck, the feeling of her clenching walls around him being heavenly. Draco was hitting every sweet spot inside of her, making the girl throw her head back at the waves of pleasure that hit her like a train. Draco wrapped his lips around one of her nipples, lapping his tongue and sucking on it, Y/n almost letting out a scream at the intense pleasure.

Y/n was moaning hard, bucking her hips rhythmically trying to get him deeper inside of her. One of Draco’s hands flew up to her hard nipple and began roughly massaging it again. Draco’s cock moving against her tight walls with delicious friction. Y/n tossed her head back against the pillow, closing her eyes as he fucked her harder and harder. Her walls tightened around him, and Draco felt like he might break, pumping frantically inside her.

Y/n let out a scream of pleasure, that was muffled by her pillow, drowning Draco’s cock in her cum. Y/n felt Draco twitch inside her, and fill her up to the brim with a final rough thrust. Draco pulled out, cleaning himself up and turning to the girl that still lied down on his bed, completely naked, legs spread only for him, like a slut. His slut. “How about I get you to that third orgasm? Would you like that, my slutty princess?”

“Yes, Dray. Want your mouth.” Draco went to work, burying his face in between her legs as his tongue lapped up the taste of hers and his cum. Draco licked long stripes up her slit at first, before sucking on her clit, harshly, in the motions he knew would make her fall apart. “Feels good, Dray. S’good.” Draco smirked against her pussy, Y/n bucking her hips up wanting him to get back to work.

Tears pricked her eyes, as it just felt too good. “Fuck, Draco! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gonna cum. M’ gonna cum.” Y/n squirted on his face, Draco letting out a satisfied groan as he licked her clean, Y/n whining realizing just how overstimulated she was. Draco pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, walking to the bathroom to get a cloth to clean her up, and pull her into his naked chest. Legs entangled, Y/n let out a satisfied sigh, starting to feel relaxed.

“Happy birthday, darling. I love you.”

#draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #soft draco malfoy #soft draco #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x y/n #draco lucius malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x reader

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Fit to be Tied

Jason Todd x reader

Warning: Christmas? And the f word.

Christmas series 2

Jason didn’t pay much attention to holidays. Nope. That was for the living. He didn’t have much of need for it. But he did know that Christmas was quiet and New Years was busy for patrol. He guessed everyone ate Christmas dinner and and then got bored of playing nice. Or maybe that just wanted to start the new year with a big ass bang. Who knows?

Even when he was a kid, he didn’t celebrate the holidays. Too poor, mom too lost in drugs, and dad? Well fuck him. He was a piece of shit when he was around.

Jason kicked a beer can out of his way into the pile of trash on the sidewalk. They didn’t get the trash again this week it looked like. Daddy Bruce could play bat but couldn’t throw his money around enough to keep trash from piling on the street.

It was fine. He had more important things to do anyways. He had to buy a Christmas present. He didn’t care for the holidays but the sweet girl he had at home was a doll and fuck, if she didn’t deserve something. So Jason went down to the local pawn shop. Usually not a problem but it was 2 AM. Not exactly prime business hours.

So yes, Red Hood was breaking into a pawn shop to get a bracelet. He was leaving cash, $20 over the cost too. It was something you had seen earlier in the week and had admired. Gems of some kind shaped to look like a butterfly. You’d taken a minute longer to stare at it.

He left as quick as he came. And it wasn’t long until he was opening the window of your apartment dressed in street clothes. You were asleep. Jason had used the excuse of patrol to get out. But in the early morning hours of Christmas, he wanted to wake you.

“Princess,” he said gently. You moved a little before opening your eyes. You smiled up at him. Fuck, he didn’t deserve the way you looked at him. Your eyes looked so innocent and sweet. You never looked at him like he scared you.

“Jaybird, what’s going on?”

“I got you something for Christmas and it’s technically Christmas..” he said pulling out the box. You sat up, curious.

“It’s Christmas Eve. You got me something? I didn’t think we were- I didn’t get anything. I couldn’t-“ you said turning red. Money was too tight to consider it. The fact that the heat was still on this late in the month was a Christmas miracle.

“No no. It’s fine. Just being here is enough for me. I’ve never really celebrated Christmas anyways,” Jason said pushing the box in your hand. You held the box before kissing him.

You opened the box to see the bracelet you had been looking at the pawn shop. You smiled and stared at the pretty little butterfly. Jason watched you carefully for a reaction. He’d never admit it but he was more nervous now than fighting on the street.

“You saw me looking at it. I didn’t think you’d notice,” you murmured softly as you picked it up. Jason took it and wrapped it around your wrist. He clasped it on and you looked at it, moving your wrist in the light.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” you said quietly looking at it. You had a little grin on your face. Jason smiled. That’s the look he wanted. That little bit of happiness that you showed when you were really pleased. He intertwined his fingers in yours.

“Princess, you’re so cold,” Jason said with a frown. He could feel it colder outside but now that he was getting used to the temperature, it wasn’t warm as it should be.

“The heater was acting up again so I turned it down. The blankets are plenty warm,” you said and his heart all but broke. There was no way he was going to let you be cold all winter because the landlord wouldn’t fix things. He might pay this guy a visit. You sensed his anger.

“It’s okay, Jay. Come lay with me and get warm,” you said taking his hands. He let you pull him into bed. He kicked off his pants and shoes and laid on his side. You curled into him as a little spoon. His long big frame all but engulfed you. It always felt to protective. If he was holding you, he knew you were safe. Jason ran his fingers along your bracelet soft as his rough fingers could.

“You’re so good to me,” you said softly and his heart clenched again. Fuck, if you knew all the bad he did. His messed up past. He thought you would have run away when you first learned he was Red Hood but no, you had been kind.

“Naw, Princess you deserve more then this shitty place,” he said, and for the first time, he felt a little bad about giving all of his trust fund to the soup kitchen he would visit as a kid. A little would have been nice to get a better place for you. But he had been making a ton crushing the drug trade at the time and didn’t have a girl back home when he did it. He couldn’t be as reckless now.

You turned in his arms to look in his blue eyes. He has such an intense look on his face that you frowned. “Jaybird, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said pulling his face back to normal. “Just thinking. I wanna move you to a better place, a safer place than this,” he said running his thumb across your cheeks. You grasped his wrist and leaned into his touch. Jason would sometimes get like that. Thinking you deserved better. And you humored him even though you wouldn’t even know what to do with wealth.

“We’re moving. Soon. I’m promising now,” he said thinking about the painful conversation he was going to have with Bruce. His adoptive father he hadn’t even told you about. Bruce would do just about anything Jason asked. Probably the guilt of letting him die.

“But Jay, we’d miss the water that went from boiling to freezing at random. And I’m not sure if I can sleep without Mr and Mrs Jancowski having sex every Tuesday at 2 AM,” you said with a smile. He kissed you to shut you up. You were joking but each one felt like a little knife in his guilt. You pulled him over you and the thought of money troubles faded from your mind.

———————————————

Jason woke before you and watched you sleep. You laid on his chest with your hand in his hair and your soft breath on his throat. The bracelet was still on your wrist. You looked so peaceful, trusted him while you slept. Jason carefully grabbed his phone and texted Alfred. He’d also have to tell you about his adoptive family. His very famous adoptive family.

He threaded his fingers in your hand that was flung across his waist. You began to stir. Jason moved hair from your face and you blinked to see his pale blue eyes watching you.

“Morning, Princess,” he said with a rough morning voice. You smiled.

“Morning, Jaybird.”

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he started. “I want you to meet my family tonight.”

“Tonight? Your family? I thought your parents...” you trailed off.

“I was adopted. I never told you because I don’t have the best relationship with them. But I think it’s time for you to meet them. I’ve got to tell you something else,” he said and you could hear his heart beat quicker as you laid on him.

“My adoptive father is Bruce Wayne.”

Silence.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. And tonight I’m taking you to meet him. And my adoptive siblings.”

“You aren’t joking,” you said sitting up. Jason sat up too.

“I’m not. I’m kinda the... black sheep of the family. He adopted me when I was 12. I was trying to boost the wheels from the b- Bentley he was driving,” Jason corrected. It was one thing to tell you he was Red Hood. He couldn’t say Bruce Wayne was Batman.

“Wow. I- wow. Okay. That’s a lot to take in. Also on brand to be honest,” you said and he smiled and shrugged.

“Wait. What the fuck do you wear to the freaking Wayne manor for Christmas Eve?” You said a little panicky.

“Whatever you want. It’s just family,” he said with a sideways smile.

“Oh no. I can’t go to freaking Wayne Manor in a Kmart sweater,” you said quickly.

“You can wear,” he said hopping out of bed. He dug way in the back of his closet for a pretty red sweater that was slightly oversized. “This. Should fit fine. Pretty expensive too.”

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“I’ve had it for year and it definitely doesn’t fit now,” Jason said with a laugh. “Try it on.”

—————————————

The weather sucked. Freaking sleet that threatened everything it touched. You were grateful it wasn’t a night of Jason patrolling. This meant taking your car instead of Jason’s motorcycle. Your car was at least 15 years old and you called it Frankenstein because of all the repairs done over the years.

The radio skipped as Jason drove over a speed bump by Wayne Manor and you burst out laughing. Jason looked at you from the side.

“It’s not that funny,” he said. “What’s up?”

“My car is trash, I’m wearing your old sweater, and we’re late. If you weren’t the black sheep before, bringing me home, you will be now,” you said. He grabbed your hand and parked in front of a random house.

“I’ve been the black sheep since I was a kid and you aren’t going to change any thing for the worse. Trust me. In fact they’ll probably think you’re too good for me,” Jason said with a dry chuckle. “So don’t worry about anything. Except making room for pudding. I know it sounds weird,” he said starting to drive again. “But it’s the best part of Christmas.”

Wayne Manor was huge. You knew that. You’d even seen it on tv. But to see it in front of you was honestly terrifying, especially in the nasty weather. You almost hoped Jason was playing some weird elaborate joke and was going to drive on by but he knew the passcode to the gate. He drove in the covered drop off spot by the front door and parked. You both quickly ran in the building.

The front entry was breathtaking. A gigantic Christmas tree and a full staircase decked out in garland like a Hallmark movie. It was like a magazine. In fact, it was in the Christmas episode of Gotham Life the year before.

You gripped Jason’s hand tightly as you walked down the hall. Your shoes sounded unnaturally loud and you had the urge to quiet them like it was a library. Jason pulled you to the doorway of a dinning room full of people settling to eat. Jadon cleared his throat.

“Master Jason! You made it,” Alfred said excitedly. “I recieved your message but it’s been many years. Sit. Sit.”

“Glad you could come,” Jason’s brother Dick said with a grin. He looked at you in curious excitement. You looked down at some kind of mushroom soup placed in front of you. Everyone else was dressed so nicely and ate so perfectly. It was intimidating.

“Yeah, it’s Christmas,” Jason said shrugging. He gave Dick a look that said don’t ask. It didn’t take much for Dick to drop it because he seemed incredibly distracted. You spent most of the meal trying to keep up on conversations you clearly didn’t understand while trying food you’ve never seen before. You could barely remember everyone you were introduced to. One of Jason’s sister(s?) gave you a big hug along with everyone else when she arrived. You couldn’t tell anyone what was even said after the meal. Or so you thought.

Until right across from you, Dick proposes to his girlfriend. He stuttered around before finally asking. “Will you marry me? Oh god, I have a ring,” he said producing one. Everyone watched as she stared in the box.

“Will I marry you?” She asked faintly and you worried she’d say no. How terrible would it be??

“Please say something,” he pleaded and you could tell the man was practically in pain before she said yes. They kissed, the family applauded, and champagne was served.

Jason watched you from the corner of his eyes. How did you react to this? What did you think? You didn’t look jealous or anything. It made Jason think of marriage. He hadn’t before. He’d thought about moving into something more permanent but marriage. He’d never thought about marriage as his future, ever. Of course when you die at 16 and come back with a vengeance, love is low on the priority list.

“Jaybird, you there,” you asked slightly tapping his shoulder. He blinked and looked at you.

“Yeah, I’m here. Just in my head,” he said and you nodded. He’d do that sometimes.

“The party is moving to the parlor,” you said quietly in a proper rich Gothamite voice and Jason huffed before covering his smiling mouth with a nose rub. The rest of the group was moving ahead of you. Dick and his new fiancé were retiring for the night.

“I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?”

“I’m so sorry, dearest. I can’t understand you with a silver spoon in your mouth,” you laughed. Jason rolled his eyes before guiding your shoulders towards the door. You heard a soft laugh behind you and you turned to see Tim’s girlfriend smiling.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ve got to use that on Tim,” she said grabbing her coat and walking out.

After making sure you were cool with hanging with Tim’s girlfriend and their adoptive sister Cass, Jason and Tim started a very competitive game of pool. You couldn’t help but look at things that cost more than you’ve ever even seen. The chess set Damian and his girlfriend were playing with probably cost more than your car.

But it was Christmas and you tried to push your insecurities aside. It was a fun evening. A glass of wine you kept sipping on helped as well.

After a while Bruce announced that the roads were too bad and that no one was leaving. Jason clenched his jaw for a second before looking at you and relaxing. He didn’t want to stay but he wasn’t risking your health in any way. Instead he focused on the game.

“So if I win,” Jason said a full hour later. By this time, Damian’s girlfriend had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Your eyes felt a little heavy as well. “I get the penthouse.”

“Sure Jay. That’s Bruce’s. But I’m willing to gamble it,” Tim said throwing his hands up at the ridiculousness.

“I accept terms,” Bruce said. Both boys looked at him surprised. “Whoever wins gets the penthouse.”

You turned quickly to watch the game. Okay, is that a normal thing for them? To bet property. The look on everyone’s face said that no it wasn’t normal.

Jason was excellent at pool. It was a common for you both to go down to the pool hall and play some games. Jason would occasionally make some money playing and he did often as a kid. It was also a way to waste time when your mom was throwing beers back like a fish, like Jason’s mother did. Tim didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t as good and looked almost like he was in pain occasionally. But maybe it wasn’t a real competition? Maybe Bruce was trying to give Jason something he’d always want to but didn’t know how. Jason easily won the game.

“So the penthouse is mine?” Jason asked. Bruce nodded and shrugged. Tim softly coughed in his hand. Your heart raced. They couldn’t be serious.

“If you’ll live in it,” Bruce said. Damian was carefully carrying his girlfriend upstairs.

“Deal,” Jason says quickly.

“Deal,” Bruce said looking quiet pleased. Was this his plan all along?

“I guess, deal?” Tim said confused. “Though you should owe me. You’re the one that got me shot.”

Your brain broke. He was shot? And it was Jason’s fault?

“What?! You got him shot?” Tim’s girlfriend asked loudly. Tim blanched.

“Not my fault.”

“Literally your fault,” Tim countered.

“What did you do?” You asked looking at him suspiciously. He offered you a sheepish smile.

“I might have said ‘what are you gonna do, shoot us?’ I meant me. Not Tim! He also has a bulletproof suit,” Jason said. Tim must be a vigilante too. You glared at Jason.

“That’s not in the report,” Bruce said with his eyes narrowing.

“Good night everybody. Merry Christmas,” Jason said pulling you from the room and up to his childhood room.

“You’re in so much trouble,” you said and he grinned.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow. How do you feel about a penthouse? Better than our current place hu?” Jason said pulling you close. You felt dizzy at the idea.

“Seriously? We can’t afford it,” you said trying to stay grounded. It was too good to be true. Things like that didn’t happen to people like you.

“I think I know a guy who can keep the lights on,” he joked and you gave him a serious look. “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy the idea of constant hot water. Lights never going off,” Jason said pushing you towards the bed. “No one can hear me make you scream.”

“Tempting. Very tempting,” you said and of fucking course it was. A safe beautiful clean penthouse over your trashy scary apartment wasn’t even a contest. Jason pushed you on the bed and hovered over you.

“What are you doing,” you asked flushed but still encouraging him. It was still his dad’s house and he was getting handsy.

“Trying to have sex with my girlfriend on my old bed like every guy ever has dreamed of,” Jason said. He nipped at your throat. You gasped.

“Got to be quiet, Princess,” he whispered and you pulled him down to kiss more.

————————————

The next morning you woke to an empty bed. You fixed your hair as best you could and threw on Jason’s sweatshirt before going downstairs. You caught a glimpse of the kitchen as Bruce slowly slid a set of keys Jason’s way before taking a long drink from his coffee. “I’m glad you made home for Christmas this year, Jason.” The penthouse.

“Morning,” Bruce said to you nodding before leaving the room. Jason was alone in the kitchen but you could hear others in the breakfast nook a door over.

“Keys,” Jason said showing you. “And no lecture.”

You gave him a hug and looked at the shiny metal keys. It would be a while before you could handle the idea of a freaking penthouse being yours. “But you should get something for Tim. You did get him shot.”

“Let him shoot me?”

“Jason, no.”

#fns #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd #red hood #red hood x reader #Jason todd fluff #christmas series

1K notes · View notes

kiritella · 3 years

Text

Stunt Double

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.6 k

Request: (@tom-hlover) Bucky X non avenger shy reader where reader is a new lab assistant and was a stuntwoman before and never stated it in her resume and surprised the team when she got in action when they were attacked in the tower. For the reader, if possible, introvert, short hair, the type who does not initiate conversations with strangers but when needed can speak in front of people (for presentations) and when you get to know the reader, she is quite bubbly and is comfortable in being weird?

Warnings: mentions of blood, shooting, stabbing (nothing too graphic), attack, mentions of death. IT IS MOSTLY FLUFF!!!

----

It was too quiet.

You cautiously stepped farther into the engineering lab as the unusual silence prolonged, “Tony?” No voice returned but your own as it echoed off the walls, but as you delved deeper into the room, the sight of Tony Stark hunched over his desk made you sigh a breath of relief. A snore broke the silence and Tony shuffled a little in his seat, but he remained lost to the conscious world. A soft smile coated your lips as you grabbed the blanket from off the back of one of the chairs and tossed it over his shoulders, allowing the man to get some severely needed sleep.

Tony had probably been in there the whole night, you presumed as you watched the morning routine of New York bustle in the streets below Stark Tower. The rising sun was casting a golden reflection on the newly snowed landscape, and the buildings were almost picturesque in the frozen atmosphere. Frost collected on the windows, and your breath fanned against the glass in a cloud, fogging up the image. With a sigh, you turned from the view, taking a sip of the hot coffee in your hands as you approached your workbench, setting your bag down beside your chair.

The computer system hummed to life as you switched on the device and soon a blue holosphere lit up around you, presenting a cascade of folders of your latest projects. Many of them had yet to reach completion, mostly just half-hearted specs when you were high on caffeine and sleep deprivation, but one day you would finish them. On your own time, most likely. Tony recently had you working on something of a bit more substance than what you usually do. There was something about this project that had you excited though. It was tiresome, and it had taken what seemed like an eternity, but it was nearly complete, and with it, it could change so much for the Avengers. It was exhilarating to have created something so powerful and meaningful, something that would have an impact. It was different from your last job, which didn’t give that spark of satisfaction when it was nearly complete. Working as an actor stunt-double had its admiration and qualities, but this, you felt, was where you belonged.

Opening the desk drawer, you pulled out a few bobby pins along with the holo-manipulator bracelets, and only after pinning your short hair back out of your eyes did you begin to work. Music played in your headphones as the morning grew later and within the hour, the lab doors opened once again to admit Bruce into the room. He chuckled as he passed Tony’s desk, the owner of whom was still sprawled out in a deep sleep, then nodded a good morning to you. With a soft smile, you whispered a cheerful good morning. It was still strange working with them, despite it having been several months now, and you weren’t sure if the high of being around them was going to leave any time soon. The high or the consequences.

Bruce was always kind enough, and Tony added a little personality to the lab, so it was never uninteresting, but there were also outside influences that made the job more difficult. Reporters, who you were always used to, shifted gears when you switched professions. Everyone wanted to know what the latest and greatest Stark technology was going to be, and people began to get more heated in their questions and methods. Things had gotten out of control more recently when the project you were currently working on got leaked to the public. It wasn’t the whole project, thankfully, however it was enough to cause some suspicion and enough eyes to turn in your direction that things began getting dangerous. Stark didn’t seem to mind too much until you were attacked getting into your apartment one night. After that, he became more cautious, offered for you to live in the Tower until the project was over and to help you find a new home after. Security was tightened, especially around the labs, and no one was allowed into the lower levels except authorized personnel. These were the things that came with the job, you supposed. Besides, it wasn’t like it was the worst thing in the world to be living in a multi-billion-dollar corporation in your own flat with a gym downstairs, completely free of rent, and with a five-minute journey to your workplace. Yeah, most certainly not the worst thing in the world.

---

You were about to resign yourself to a typical and uneventful lunch break consisting of eating at your work bench while pushing numbers for your project when Bucky barged in through the lab doors. His easy smile relaxed the tension in your posture and infected its way over to you.

“You look like shit,” Bucky said, tossing a bag of something smelling absolutely divine in front of you as he propped himself up on your desk, leaning over it with a teasing glimmer in his eyes. You laughed, a chuckle-snort sort of thing as you reclined back in your chair.

“Well, thank you. Should I take that as a complement?”

“No. You should take that as a ‘get the hell out of your office’,” he said, “And you’re in luck, because I brought lunch and we’re gonna eat it somewhere that is not here.”

You rolled your eyes, closing and locking up the holosphere and laptop. “Jerk.”

“Workaholic.”

“Workaholic,” you mocked in scrutiny, scrunching up your nose in defiance. “I am not a workaholic,” you pressed, snatching the food Bucky brought from off the desk as you followed him out the door. “I’ll have you know I slept five full hours last night.”

“Oh~~” Bucky teased with facade impressiveness, “Five whole hours. I slept nine.”

“Showoff.”

“Zombie.”

“I’m just so close to finishing the Achilles Heel project,” you said, laughing as you pressed for the elevator, scanning your ID on the screen. “Then I can sleep, and get my own place, and relax for a little while.”

“Oof, so ready to just escape this prison to be on your own huh?”

“Okay, maybe not too ready, I mean, there are some perks to being around more,” you said, nudging him in the side and he chuckled.

“Yeah, well I am decent company.”

“I was talking about the showers, but yeah, I guess you are a bonus too,” you teased, and Bucky gasped.

“Fine, I see how it is. I’ll just take this,” he said, grabbing the food bag from your hands as the elevator doors opened and he backed out onto the abandoned floor.

“Wait I—I didn’t mean that,” you said, jumping after him.

“Oh, no, I’m going to eat by myself now. Go on,” he said shewing you away as you came at him, trying to grab the food. “Go scurry back to your dreary little office and punch some numbers while stuffing your face with last night’s leftovers.”

“Bucky,” you whined through a laugh, “I’m sorry. You are most certainly a very big bonus to living at work.”

“Nope. You’re only here for the food,” he persisted, but his beaming smile broke through his act and held the food up above his head. You glared at him as you pushed closer to him, chests brushing up against each other as you reached up on your tippy toes trying to grab the bag.

“I. Am. Not.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping his free arm around your waist as your balance began to waver, pulling you tighter against him as his lips brushed across your ear, “Really? Because it seems like that’s the only thing on your mind.”

Your body froze as you realized your proximity, his arm snug around your waist, his breath fanning against your ear and neck, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours. Slowly, your hand fell back down to his shoulder, fingers trailing to his chest as he angled up to meet your eyes. There was laughter in them, blissful freedom in the dip of his smile and damn, that was beautiful. To say you were in a romantic relationship would have been a slight misconception. The feelings were no secret, but you remained behind the line of friends, however as his eyes met yours, hardly a hair’s breadth apart, you began to wonder where that line was in all the haze.

“It’s not the only thing on my mind,” you whispered in a soft chuckle, a shy smile. Your heart flipped in your chest as his gaze flicked to your lips, hesitant and unsure, and heat tickled up your cheeks.

“Yeah? Had me fooled,” he said as he tilted closer, the brush of his nose along your cheek, and you remembered, friends don’t do this. But then again, when have either of you been wholy and truly just friends? His gravity pulled you in, the earth to his sun and a moth to his flame. It was a force of two strings being tied together, red scarlet between your chests, binding you to each other. It wound tighter as you sought each other, but as his lips barely brushed your own, Bucky’s phone blared in the empty hallway and the string snapped. Your eyes shot open as you both jerked in surprise, pulling back, but remaining frozen in time, staring, and searching. His gaze held an ounce of disappointment as he slowly released his grip around your waist. His eyes followed you even when you could no longer bear their intensity, the fire burning in them reaching out to consume you. Turning aside as he answered his phone, you grabbed the food from his hand, motioning to the office you usually ate in and he nodded.

When the door shut behind you, you gasped for breath to steady your raging, wild heart, steadying yourself onto the sheet-covered couch. A soft laugh bubbled from your chest as you replayed the moment over and over, your fingers pressed to your lips to conceal the smile breaking through, but it still insisted on being seen. As emotions swirled in you, you began to unload the bag Bucky brought, pulling out buckets of Chinese food and set them on the table.

“That was Sam,” Bucky started quietly as he entered the room. “He got a lead on the extremist group I was telling you about…”

You nodded, but when he didn’t move from his spot at the door, you rolled your eyes, waving him over to sit beside you. “Get over here so we can eat before it gets cold,” you said, a teasing glimmer in your tone, and a smile peaking on your lips. A sigh left him, relieving the pressure in his lungs no doubt as he came and sat beside you, picking up a box of orange chicken.

“What’s the lead?”

“Just an informant…It looks a little shady, but it’s all we’ve gotten in a while, so we don’t want to risk leaving it alone.”

“When are you heading out?”

“Tomorrow evening. Apparently, the guy doesn’t want to risk being seen in the daylight or in town, so he’s meeting us just outside the city after dark.”

“It certainly sounds weird,” you chuckled, but then silence overtook the room, creeping in from the cracks of unspoken words and pushing as the tension thickened. And when the pressure rose, it crushed your heart, and so you spoke, “Hey, Buck?” and still, you froze again, but he understood the question in the air, in your eyes that refused to meet his. Bucky’s fingers reached across the little space between you, taking your hand into his own and brought them to his lips, caressing them with a kiss.

A sigh escaped you as you relaxed. His hand released yours and wrapped around your shoulders, encouraging you to lean back into the couch and rest your head against him. As you fell into his embrace, the tension eased.

A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead before he spoke, “We both saw this coming for a while now…”

“Yeah, well…I guess we never really were just friends. There was always something else.”

Bucky snorted, “Like when you were drunk and told me one day you were going to jump my—”

You screeched, shoving your hand over his face, “Why did you bring that up?! You were not supposed to bring that up ever,” you shouted, slapping his chest as he laughed, “I finally burned that from my memory!”

“I didn’t realize you were such a lightweight,” he laughed.

“I don’t drink that often, so of course I’m a lightweight.”

Bucky could only shake his head, press a kiss to your temple, and pull you closer. “How about when I get back from the job, finish all the paperwork and shit, the next night I’ll take you out?” he mused, “A proper date, just the two of us—”

“I’d hope it’s just us,” you joked and he laughed, knocking you in the shoulder with his knuckles.

“Shhh, don’t interrupt, I’m trying to be sweet.”

“Oh okay, please continue…”

“Just the two of us somewhere nice, but not too quiet so we don’t get awkward, and we can talk about everything…”

“Sounds perfect,” you said, craning your chin up to meet his eyes and smiled.

~~~

There was something in the air the next evening. It was thick enough to choke you, and the shadows lingered on the walls a little too long only to be cast away sharply. The moon reflected off the pale white walls in the eerie silence and cast a frozen-like nature around the room. You should have gone up to your apartment hours ago, but with the inspiration and drive to finish your project, sleep evaded you. Besides, the coffee helped.

Music streamed from the speakers, but it wasn’t enough to drive out the anxiety welling in your stomach. Since the attack at your apartment, being alone had bothered you, left an uncomfortable feeling crawling on your skin and it didn’t seem to want to leave. Instead, the anxiety built up until you were jumping at every noise, every shift of the shadows in the room. Bucky’s presence or voice had always helped, but he was still out with Sam checking in on the extremist group informant.

When you first heard the popping, you were certain it was your mind playing tricks on you. It wasn’t until they got much louder did you pause the music.

“Tony?” You called out, “Bruce?” You thought they had gone home for the night. Pepper had dragged Tony out about two hours ago, and Bruce had dinner plans with Natasha so he left early to get ready. There shouldn’t have been anyone but the night shift there, but as a high pitch scream echoed and the laboratory's glass wall shattered, realization hit you ten fold. You hit the floor as you dropped, a scream dying on your lips as you scrambled to get under your desk. People marched into the room, several by the sound of the boots on the crushed glass.

“Secure,” a voice said, feminine and cold.

“Find Achilles Heel, then wipe the system. You’ve got six minutes before the security system comes back online.”

You shook under your desk, heart beating erratically, the holosphere containing your Achilles Heel program right above you, and if you could just—

A loud crash of tools had you jumping out of your skin and your head rammed into the top of your desk, and you froze just like the rest of the room. The silence echoed, and you swore your breathing was too loud, your heartbeat bouncing off the walls as loud as a train. A few words, then footsteps approached, glass crunching under their feet until their boots were directly in front of you. Your teeth dug into your lip as you fumbled the pocketknife from your pocket, only a second to spare as the person reached under the desk and seized your ankle. A sharp yank and you were pulled out with a scream, but the smirk on the woman’s face sunk as you barreled the knife into the back of her foot, straight for her Achilles tendon. As she began to drop, you twisted your hips, braced your leg up and kicked her throat. Not what you were aiming for, but that works.

She collapsed to the ground, choking and gasping for air, but more footsteps pounded toward you and when you looked out from the side of the desk, two men appeared and you were staring down the barrel of a gun. Instinct took over and you knocked the handgun from your face, grasping his wrist, spinning as you stood until his arm was twisted backward and using your back for the brace, rolled him over your shoulder. A distinct pop told of his displaced arm. Or a broken one, you weren’t sure.

A gun went off, and you jumped out of your skin as the breeze of the bullet swept across your cheek. Screeching as the soldier grabbed your arm, cursing an absurd vocabulary list at you, the palm of your hand shot to his nose, and to put it lightly, his list of obscenities increased dramatically.

“Son of a Bitch,” he shouted as blood trickled out of his broken nose, tears forming in the edges of his eyes as they began to water.

“So I’ve been told,” you said as you struck his throat and he began to choke, but as you delivered the final blow to a place the sun didn't shine very often, the cock of another gun set you frozen in place. Across the room, the last soldier stood with a semi-automatic, a bullet with your name ready in the chamber and your breathing stopped.

“We only came for your program, Y.n,” the man sneered, “But I’ve really got a mind to put you six feet under now.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that was peaking on your lips, though you couldn’t even begin to fathom its reason for existing. “What do you want it for?”

The man chuckled, “Who wouldn’t want a program that could tell them the weakness in any building? Given the right specifications of course.”

You shook your head, an idea sparked, but the warmth of the trails of blood on your fingers made you sick. The sound of the man’s shoulder popping out of place from earlier is ingrained in your ears. The feeling of crushing someone’s windpipe, breaking their nose is still searing your skin. It was agonizing.

“Where’s Achilles heel?” he asked, his patience for your antics ran out, and he raised his gun, aim centered on your chest. You turned back to your desk, your hands trembling as the little holosphere sat daintily there on the wood. Your projects, your life, everything you’ve worked for in the last several months. It held your secrets, your future, everything you were striving to create, all right there in that little damned box. Reaching for it, it was heavier than you remembered. You supposed it was the consequences that was weighing it down. Or maybe it was your life.

The woman from earlier was out cold on the floor, but her gun was still at her feet. As your breath shook, you gripped the sphere in your hands and turned back to the last man standing. You waved it in the air, and he laughed.

“Thank you. You’ve been of great service,” he said, lifting his gun and as he pulled the trigger, you dropped to the floor, hands scrambling for the woman’s gun and as the man cursed, he ran for you. The second he came into view, you fired. The jerk of the gun burned your wrists, and something snapped, but you shot again, and the look of pure surprise on his face was enough to make you puke. He fell to his knees and onto his side, blood seeping from his shoulder and stomach. Your hands trembled as you scampered back, bile on your tongue as you watched in horror.

The sound of your name died in the echo of the room, the panic in the voice, the rushing feet and the sound of glass being crushed. Everything faded out except for the man in front of you and the fear etching into his eyes. You were paralyzed to watch. When another hand gripped your shoulder from behind, you screamed, tossing your hands back and clawing and scratching at their face until both your arms were seized and you were forced to see your attacker.

Bucky sat there, his hands holding your arms as his eyes searched you wildly, and you stilled. Your breaths were ragged and sharp, but his cerulean blue eyes were much softer than you remembered, but that could have been the tears welling in the corners. His lips moved as he spoke, but no sounds hit your ears. Everything was drowned in a ringing ocean of nothing, but when he pulled you against his chest and lifted you up, faded whispers broke through.

“You’re gonna be okay...I’ve got you...It’s alright…” It was all chopped and scattered, but it was still his voice. It was James. The lights faded in and out as he carried you out of the room and down the hall. Your vision blurred, but even in your disorientation, you saw them. A night guard sat motionless on the floor, another further down, and eventually you couldn’t bear to watch and hid yourself in James's neck. The next thing you saw was the med bay as Bucky placed you on one of the beds and a doctor came rushing over. The look of pure fear in Bucky’s eyes as you remained motionless on the bed struck straight to your heart before everything went dark.

~~~

When you woke, Bucky sat on the edge of your hospital bed, your hand in his as he traced gentle patterns into your palm. “James?”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to yours, and a smile broke through, “Hey sleepy head. How’re you feeling?”

“A little weird, but okay,” you mumbled as you say up with Bucky’s help. It took a moment before everything came flooding back to you, and the blood drained from your face. “H-how long was I out?”

“Just a little less than an hour. The shock pulled you under,” he said. In a moment of silence, his fingers traced your cheek, curving along your skin until he cupped your face. His breath shook as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead, then another kiss to your temple, another to your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, your hands raising to hold his. Your wrist was bandaged with gauze, and it hurt to move, but still, you melted in his touch. His lips brushed against yours, tantalizing and soft, a peck, a promise, a future held with the love in his chest, shown with his lips upon yours. I love you. I'm glad you're safe. You scared me. I love you. Unspoken words were passed from his lips and seared onto yours with a single peck, and it made you realize just how infinite he was.

“When we got here and the lab was broken into, I —” he said, pressing his forehead to yours, but his voice cracked and you softened.

“I’m alright,” you whispered, “I think, anyway,” you added with a soft chuckle.

“Doctor gave you a clean bill of health for the most part,” he said, pulling back. “Fractured wrist, small cut on your cheek, a little bruising. Nothing too bad.”

You nodded, but a rock dropped in your stomach when you recalled the events. “The man I shot…” you whispered, “Is—is he…?”

“He’s alive,” Bucky said, a sneer in his voice as he held your hands, “They all are.”

You sighed in relief. A life on your head wasn’t a weight you were sure you could bear. However, as Bucky began to speak, the door opened and in came Tony, Bruce with Nat, and followed by Sam.

“Since when can you fight?” Tony asked, a light smile in his voice after he saw that you were okay. “I don’t remember martial arts being one of your talents,” he joked, holding a tablet with the camera footage of the lab.

You shrugged, a smile peaking on your lips, “I was an actress before I came here. Stunt-double for some action movies. I had some training.”

Sam perked up, “What?! An actress?”

You laughed at his confusion and awe, “Yes.”

“That was not on your resume,” Tony added.

“I wanted to be taken seriously!” you defended, “I figured it wasn’t important to add acting to a resume I was sending to Stark Industries.”

“Okay, fair, but look at this,” Tony said, holding the tablet for you and Bucky to see the video.

Bucky hesitated, turning it from you, “I don’t think that’s—”

“No, I wanna see, it’s alright,” you said, and Bucky played the video. It shocked you to watch it over again, the scene unfolding from a safe distance and with people you trusted. What took you by surprise though, was how the entire event unfolded in a matter of a few minutes. You were swift on camera, quick and unflinching, completely unlike what you felt in the moment. It had lasted an eternity then, fear capturing every muscle and resisting every movement.

“I mean look at that,” Tony praised as you took down the third guy. You pushed the tablet away before you got to the last part, and the others said nothing to oppose. The video was stopped and the others teased you.

“I thought you were just brains, but damn,” Sam said, “You’ve got tricks up your sleeves.”

“Didn’t feel like it in the moment,” you chuckled shyly, and Nat stepped up.

“It never does, not in situations like that. But running on pure instinct with what you knew, that was pretty awesome. We’re all just glad you’re okay though.”

You smiled and the others relaxed on their praise and asked for your condition. Bucky answered with ease as you relaxed back in your bed. The questions all seemed endless, but eventually, they all left to let you rest, and with a clear from the doctor, Bucky walked you back to your apartment upstairs.

“So, an actress, huh?” Bucky said and you laughed.

“Yeah,” you said, brushing your short hair in the mirror above your dresser as Bucky sat on your bed, watching from a distance. “I doubled down in homework while I went to college. It was an accident really. A promotion here, a YouTube video there, next thing you know I’ve got a call and I was on stage performing. I never quit school though.”

“You’re just one wild mystery,” he smiled and you walked over to the bed and sat beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Intriguing, I hope.”

“Always,” he said.

A heavy silence filled the room, and you sank further against him. His fingers brushed along your hand as he took it to rest on his thigh. “I’m gonna teach you some more offensive attacks though. I can’t...” he said and his breathing wavered slightly, “I can’t go through that again.”

You nodded, nuzzling his shoulder, sighing heavily. “Could you—could you stay with me tonight? It can be just until I fall asleep, but I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, turning to kiss the top of your head.

“Promise?”

“Always.”

———————————

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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years

Text

➳it's good to see you again ♡ ☾

in which y/n l/n comes home from a 2 year long mission to subdue the rest of the escaped death eaters and meets her best friend, fred weasley, yet again.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±1.5k

tw: mentions of scars, nightmares, mentions of the war

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

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ft. angelina and george

it's been a long day without you, my friend

and i'll tell you all about it when i see you again

it's good to see you again

y/n was sitting comfortably in the backseat of george's fancy car, earphones plugged in and listening to a song to drown out the sound of angelina and george talking about something they had seen on the news. her head was leaning against the window, her eyes drinking in the familiar view of london in nostalgia. it hurt her that she wasn't the only person who would see the beautiful city she'd known from the very beginning. and she missed it. angelina and george had picked her up from the quarantine centre after she had made a trip to albania for a couple of years with the rest of her auror unit to imprison the remaining death eaters. albania had recently acquired many cases of dragonpox, and so all the unit members had to isolate in a little hotel by the edge of italy. it had been a few weeks since the start of the quarantine and now she was zooming along a british highway, ever so keen to see her friends and family again. and fred. fred was her best friend. they had been since 5th year. perhaps she was harbouring feelings for him, perhaps she wasn't. and here she sat, curled up and watching the views, trying to decipher whether or not he'd be different. he had survived the war just barely. it would be acceptable for him to change. did he still have the millions of freckles dotted along his face? her face flushed just thinking about it. bringing her hands up to her cheeks she shook her head. chile, y/n, he probably has a girlfriend. it's been two years, and he didn't like you two years ago, he won't like you now. the thought alone made her frown. "what's got you blushing and frowning like mad?" angelina looked at her through the mirror in the front of the car. george whispered something in her ear and she giggled. "y/n, is this possibly about a certain fred weasley?" her eyes widened. "nope, not at all." "really? so you were definitely not thinking about the amount of freckles my twin has on his face? hmm?" "no! george, seriously?" she stuck my tongue out at him. "or his ginger hair?" angelina added. "no! you guys are idiots!" she folded her arms. "and she's blushing again," angelina sniggered. "stop!" "it's okay, he blushes about you way more," george laughed, eyes on the road. "stop, stop, stop!!!!!" "it is true." "no it isn't, okay? erm, i don't like him, he doesn't like me. we're best friends. you guys are gross." she resumed looking out the window, shaking her head. they had reached a pretty big house with two levels, with large windows that y/n would absolutely die to have and cute little bricks sticking out. "what? i thought we were going back to my parent's house?" "you wish." "who are we visiting?" "oh just a person i know from work," angelina said with a twinkle in her eyes. "okay. did we bring anything?" "just you," she replied, "me and george are heading back to our place. your stuffs at your parents." george nodded. y/n frowned, "okay." she bounded up to the door and knocked a couple of times. the door opened and she immediately began babbling off a greeting and an introduction without looking at the person. "i'm y/n l/n, and i understand you're from angie's work! it's nice to meet yo-" her eyes were met by chocolate brown ones, framed by so many freckles. fred lived in this place? "it's good to see you again, miss y/n l/n," he grinned and oh my oh my, y/n felt her heart skipping beats all over again. fred was worried when there was silence, but he was pleasantly surprised when he felt arms wrap as much as they could around his waist. true to his nature, his cheeks turned as red as his hair. he breathed in the smell of her hair, the smell of her and oh he had missed her so much. "i missed you a lot," he mumbled, tightening his grip around her, "so so so so so much." "me too, freddie," there that nickname was, and it made him possibly weak at how pretty she was and how pretty her voice was. when she let go, he almost felt empty, and so he snaked an arm around her waist. "your place is so beautiful, freddie!" his secret was that he had bought it hoping that she would

live with him. he knew she loved beautiful windows and bay windows and balconies. "not as beautiful as you, lovely." and his eyes were graced by her flustered expression, her cheeks tinted the most delightful shade of pink. "but the windows! gosh they're pretty." "wanna live with me?" he dropped the question ever so casually. "are you sure? i've got an apartment set up and all so it's no big deal-" "no. i want you to live with me." "then your wish is my command, i guess. i don't have much stuff though." "that's fine! i knew you would say yes so i got a bedroom ready for you." she hesitated. fred looked at her. "is everything okay?" "i-i don't want you to think that i'm best friends with you because you're rich or whatever and i feel like i'm taking advantage of your richness and it's not right?" "you're not, okay?" she nodded, still hesitating a little bit. "if you really feel bad you can come visit me and george in the shop and do some type of customer service. you'll be paid." "am i paying rent if i live here?" she asked. "no, y/n, i own this place." "don't you pay land tax?" "yeah, but it's not that much." "nope, i'm paying rent or you're not paying me for the shifts i do. or both. take your pick." "i won't pay you for the shifts. is this really a big deal?" "yes it is! it's money and morals. that's a very big deal." "okay, fair." "gimme a list of all my shifts please." "nah, you pop in whenever you can." "okay, when's rush hour?" "hogsmeade weekends and thursdays." ☆ it was night. y/n couldn't sleep at all. she was lying in the insanely boujee king sized bed and the insanely comfortable sheets, and she still couldn't fathom why she couldn't sleep. maybe it was because she always slept with one eye open in albania. habit. so she was just sitting in her bed, looking around the room. she was tired, but she couldn't be untired. and it would be selfish to disturb fred. but he had said his door was always open. so she crept out and made her way through the corridors, finally stopping at a door which she hoped was fred's bedroom. it was half ajar, so she peeked her head around it. he was asleep, a very thin blanket draped carelessly around his body, his ginger hair messy and his chest rising with every peaceful breath he took. his room was big and simple, cluttered in the most fred way. she approached him, tapping him on the shoulder lightly. "freddie??" he opened his eyes drowsily, "mmm?" "i can't sleep." "'ave you tried countin' broomst'cks?" "i can't sleep." "'kay," he pulled her into his bed, wrapping his arms around y/n and tucking most of the gryffindor red blanket under her chin. it smelled like him, "this 'kay?" fred was shirtless. y/n was blushing. "yeah." "mm, have a good night, okay? i'm here, you're safe." y/n nodded, feeling the most comfortable she had in two whole years, cuddling up to his chest as she fell into sleep. sleep. she hadn't properly slept in two whole years. every night would be spent either patrolling or anxiously preparing for the next day. when she did get some shut-eye, it was broken and restless. but her dreams were stopped with visions of terrifying death eaters casting sectumsempra onto the auror unit. she felt the pain she had endured through a long time ago. it left a scar on her back and imprints in her mind. it was impossible to forget. she remembered yelling as she saw another auror drop dead. running, running out of the hellhole of the death eater's base. "y/n, y/n," fred was shaking her awake. she was shaking, tears were running down her face. she fervently apologised to him. "don't say sorry, lovely," he wiped the tears off of her face, "what was your dream about?" "t-the mission, the death eaters w-were cutting people up and they got me." "oh darling, why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked gently, cradling her head to his chest. "it, it comes out at the worst times." "well you're not in albania anymore, okay, love? you're here, in london, and you're safe. you're okay, you're fine." she nodded, "sorry." "don't you dare,

it isn't your fault. sleep, okay? i'll wait for you to go to sleep before i do, yeah?" she nodded. her head fell onto his chest and fred traced gentle patterns on her back, whispering small nothings in her ear. for the first time, it seemed like fred could watch her without repercussions. even with her tear-stained cheeks and wild hair, she was beautiful. and when he had stayed up for hours into the night and morning for this girl, this was when he realised. he would do anything for her. he loved her.

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 2 years

Text

I Love You, This Christmas - Harry Styles Christmas Series (#2)

Both Y/N and Harry have spent the majority of the year on tour, which means they’ve hardly been able to see one another except for a few days here and there. This of course has put a bit of a strain on their relationship, despite being together for over three years. Their love is still there, but sometimes that isn’t enough. So, with the holidays coming around and their tours coming to end, they hope to use this time to reconnect and see if their relationship can make it through.

The next morning you rolled over in bed and felt something on the other side of the bed. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and seeing your sleeping boyfriend with his mouth wide open. You giggled softly, remembering the two of you were back home and together after almost a year of being apart on the road. It still felt a little strange being around him, but it’s only been a few hours and you both were exhausted from traveling.

In a way, it almost felt like you were broken up and have now reunited. Not that you’ve ever gotten back together with anyone before, you imagined it would feel similar to this. You scooted closer to him, pushing hair back that had fallen in his face. He reached over, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer.

“Hm, morning,” he whispered.

“Morning,” you smiled, kissing his cheek. “Sleep well?”

“The best I’ve slept in ages,” he smiled. “You?”

“Yeah, until someone hogged all the blankets,” you laughed.

“Hey, I got cold,” he defended.

“Then maybe you should put on a shirt,” you smirked.

“Why would I do that when I have you and the blankets to keep me warm,” he said, rubbing his nose against yours.

You giggled, scrunching your nose when your stomach growled. “Oop, that’s attractive.”

He laughed, “I take it my girl is hungry.”

“Apparently so,” you laughed. “But I don’t want to get up.”

“I got it,” he said. “I’ll make us a quick little something and bring it up here. We can have our own little breakfast in bed.”

“Hm, I like the sound of that,” you smiled.

“Good, I’ll be right back,” he said, rolling off the bed and heading towards the kitchen.

Despite not wanting to get up, you really had to use the bathroom, so you slid out of bed and went into the bathroom. Once you were finished, you washed your face and brushed your teeth before heading back into the bedroom. You looked out the window, seeing nearly every house decorated, while your and Harry’s house was looking a little dull.

A few minutes later, Harry comes in with the food and you both sit down on the bed to enjoy it.

“How do you feel about decorating the house today?” You asked. “I mean we don’t have to do anything over the top, but I would love to put up the tree together and maybe string up some lights.”

“Hm, we can do that,” he smiled. “I think there’s a place nearby selling trees. We can take the car and pick one up.”

“Sounds good,” you smiled.

Over an hour later, you and Harry were in the car heading to buy your Christmas tree. Christmas music was playing through the speakers in the car and Harry held your hand as you both sat in silent conversation.

“I love you,” you whispered, looking over at him.

Harry smiled, “I love you, too, baby.”

He kissed your hand and soon he pulled into the Christmas tree place. You both get out of the car and walk hand in hand towards the abundance of Christmas trees.

“Wow, I didn’t realize there would be so many,” Harry laughed.

“Yeah, I figured most would have been gone already,” you said.

“Well, I guess we better get to looking,” he smiled.

“Yep,” you smiled.

The two of you walked around for a little bit and you giggled at how particular Harry was being over the tree.

“No, that one is all prickly.”

“Too small.”

“Too Big.”

“Not enough branches.”

“Most of the needles are falling off.”

“Oooh this one is perfect,” he said, running over the last tree in the lot.

You laughed, “Good because at this point I was beginning to think we weren’t leaving with a tree.”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed. “My Mum taught me how to pick out the perfect tree, not my fault.”

You shook your head walking over and inspecting the tree, “Well, it looks like you’re right. I think we should get this one.”

Back at the house, Harry was trying to bring the tree inside.

“It’s leaning,” You said. “Do you need help?”

“I got it,” he groaned. “I just… can’t fucking see.”

“Okay, walk straight ahead and then to the left, no, the other left,” you laughed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he groaned.

“Hey, you’re the one who had to have the perfect tree. Maybe next year you’ll get the smaller tree,” you giggled.

“Yeah,” he laughed, placing the tree down. “Okay, where do you want it?”

“Hm, maybe over in the corner by the window,” you said.

“All the way… over there?” Harry asked.

“I thought it wasn’t that heavy,” you raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not, but… it’s a little heavy,” he admitted.

“It’s fine where it is,” you giggled. “Besides, we should probably take a break, eat some lunch, and then we can get to decorating.”

You heat up some leftover soup, while Harry makes a salad and then you both sit down and enjoy some lunch.

“Who would have thought picking out a Christmas tree would be so exhausting,” Harry laughed.

“Yeah, I know,” you said. “Now, I understand why people just buy fake trees.”

“Maybe we should consider that for next year,” he laughed.

“Maybe,” you said, twirling your spoon around.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, not meeting his gaze.

Harry sighed, putting his hand over yours, “I know when something’s bothering you, what’s going on?”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. He was right. There was something bothering you and you kept trying to fight it because you wanted to just enjoy the day, but you knew this conversation would have to happen sooner or later. And honestly, the sooner you got it over with, would probably be for the better.

“Okay, you’re right,” you said. “I just… Do you feel like we’re avoiding talking about what happened this past year? I mean we went months without seeing each other or even talking on the phone. Yeah, we sent a text here and there, but being here with you again, made me realize just how out of touch we were.”

“To be honest, yeah, I was avoiding the conversation,” he sighed. “Not that I didn’t want to have it or face the fact that we lost ourselves… I just… wanted to spend some time together before we dove into that.”

“I know, I did too,” you said. “But I feel like I can’t really let myself enjoy this because of what’s waiting on the back burner.”

He nodded.

“What happened to us?” you whispered.

“I wish I knew,” he sighed.

“How… Why did we choose everything over our relationship?” You sniffled. “Why didn’t we fight to see each other more or fight to make time to talk on the phone.”

Harry got up from his chair, sitting down next to you, “Hey, baby, don’t cry,” he whispered.

“I can’t help it,” you sniffled. “What if we’re not supposed to be together? What if us being apart-”

“No, don’t,” he said. “Don’t say that and don’t think that. We’re meant to be together. We just… we lost our way, but we can get back to it. You said it yourself last night. It’s going to fucking hard, but we will get to where we were again. I promise.”

“I’m scared,” you whispered. “Of losing you… of losing us.”

“I know, baby,” he said, wiping your tears away. “I am too, but all we have to do is try and do whatever it takes to get past this.”

“Do you love me?” you sniffled.

“More than anything in this world,” he whispered. “Do you love me?”

“With all my heart,” you whispered.

“Then we’re going to make it,” he said. “Because while it may be hard getting us back, it’ll be even harder letting you go.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and he held you tightly to him. You put your forehead against his. He pressed his lips against yours and fell into the kiss. He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Bedroom?” you whispered against his lips.

He nodded carrying you there, not breaking from your lips until he laid you down on the bed. You pull off his shirt and run your hands over his chest and shoulders. He kisses down your neck before pulling your shirt off.

“God, I missed you,” he mumbled against your skin.

“I missed you, too,” you whispered.

“Sorry we uh… did get to decorating the tree,” Harry laughed, kissing your shoulder.

You were lying in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, “That’s okay, we got a little bit distracted.”

“And it was a really, really good distraction,” he smirked, toying with your fingers.

“That it was,” you giggled.

He smiled, “We’re gonna be okay, Y/N,” he whispered. “We’ll get through this.”

You looked back at him, “I know.” you nodded.

He kissed your cheek, “How about this, we order some food and then we decorate the tree while we watch your favorite Christmas movie?”

“Okay,” you said. “But first…I think it’s time for another distraction,”

“Hm, now I like the way you think,” he smirked, rolling you onto your back and pressing a kiss to your lips.

#Harry Styles imagines #Harry Styles Christmas Series #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Fanfics #Harry Styles Fanfic

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hockeyshitandstuff · 3 years

Text

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 3)

part one here

part two here

This is the last part of this mini-series and I hope you enjoyed it! Requests are open btw, so don’t be afraid to ask for an imagine with any NHL player :))

Word count: 1464 words

TW: mentions of sex, language

...

The thing that woke you up was the bright light shining through the windows.

Shit. What time was it? You probably should have been already working - for hours.

As you looked around yourself, you started realizing this wasn’t your apartment. Everything here looked so blank and expensive and then you remembered that-

That you kisssed Matthew while he was drunk. That you fucked Matthew while he was drunk.

You groaned silently, still too sleepy to actually cry. What had you done?

You thought you were okay with staying just friends. But here I am, you thought to yourself as you climbed out of the bed.

Your body felt sore and relaxed at the same time. It was a long time since you slept with someone and actually enjoyed it like this. And even though you should be ashamed of yourself, you let yourself enjoy that feeling.

Just then you realized that the other side of Matt’s huge bed was already empty and cold. There was no sign of him in the living room or in the kitchen - he probably left a long time ago, maybe already preparing for his upcoming game.

But the smell of him lingered on the sheets like a distant memory, bringing back the thoughts of yesterday's events. His hot skin touching yours, his warm breath caressing your breasts...

Shit.

Just... shit.

And so you put on your yesterday’s clothes, write a quick note for Matt and leave his apartment without looking back.

...

It’s been two weeks since you woke up at Matthew’s apartment. Since then, you ignored his calls and texts, pretended you weren’t home when he knocked on your door and worked overtime when he waited for you at the reception.

Yes - it’s not ideal but it worked for 14 whole days. And it gave you some time to think.

As you were leaving your office, thinking only about going to bed, you realized you didn’t check if Matt was waiting for you - but too late. A hand gripped lightly your elbow, making you halt in your tracks.

“Y/N, why the fuck are you avoiding me?”

He sounded a bit angry but mostly tired and hurt. He looked tired, too - those were dark circles under his beautiful eyes.

And you just stood there, trying to come up with a good enough excuse.

Because we fucked, Matthew, you wanted to say. Because I love you and I’m afraid you’re gonna break my heart. Because I don’t want to lose you or our friendship. But wouldn’t avoiding him for a few more weeks destroy your friendship as well?

“You can’t- you can’t just leave, Y/N. What happened happened and if you want to, we can ignore it but you can’t just keep walking around it. You can’t just leave like I did all those years ago. And I’m so so sorry I did so and it’s totally my fault if you feel like I might do that again but you have to trust me that I have no reason to do so.”

Matthew looked... scared. Was it because he was afraid you’d leave him behind? Afraid of tasting his own medicine?

You still didn’t know what to say. You wanted to believe all he was saying but the memory of you crying when he abandoned you was still playing in your head. He did so just because of some stupid promise he told nobody about. What’s stopping him from doing so again?

“I panicked when I came back home that morning - I went shopping because I had no food at the apartment and I wanted to make you a perfect breakfast. And when I came back, you were gone and all you left behind was a note with only one word on it - goodbye. So yeah, I panicked. Of course I panicked. And I know I’m the reason you did it but I have no idea how to make things right. I don’t know how to make you trust me like you once did...” Matthew tugged at his curls, his hair all messy. He let out a sigh, trying to avoid your searching gaze.

"Matt-" you stopped your arm from touching his hair even though you wanted to comfort him so badly. It'd be so easy to let yourself trust him. Too easy; and that scared you more than anything. "I need time. Just- just take me out for dinner or something. We'll take things slowly and then we'll see how that turns out."

He looked at you as you spoke, watching the shape of your lips while nodding slowly. A small smile formed on Matt's lips and he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks went red a bit as you realized he'd do whatever you needed and won't ever ask for more than you're prepared to give him. The night two weeks ago wasn't your fault; it was yours. Matthew was drunk and never forced you to do what you did. It was you who ruined things.

"Do you have time right now?"

"Yeah, I guess." you answered, smiling up at him.

"Then I'll take you out for dinner."

Hand in hand, you realized it'd be so easy to get used to the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

...

A month later, Matt took you to a lunch with his family. It was a long time since you've seen any of his siblings so you were super excited - but also super nervous.

You two took things really slow. Matt took you out every day if he had the time and hasn't even kissed you once. Sometimes, you wanted him to do so. Sometimes, it was the only thing you could think of.

The nostalgia hit you as soon as you saw Chesterfield again. You closed your eyes, already knowing where would the car turn on the road. You kind of missed this city - it reminded you of your childhood and of Matthew.

He was sitting next to you, driving the car, one hand on the steering wheel and the second on your thigh, drawing cirles on your jeans.

"Do they remember me?" you asked, your eyes still closed.

"Of course they remember you," Matt murmured and sang a few lines of the song playing on the radio - your song, one from the playlist on the USB that was hidden for years in the time capsule.

After Matt got drafted, you stopped talking to his family. You were mad at all of them even though it was a stupid thing to do. But now as an adult, things would be different. Yeah, you probably could be mad at Matt's dad for all the things Matt wrote you in that letter but... He only wanted his son to be happy - you'd probably do the same.

So, when the car stopped, you got out and greeted his family as nicely as you could. It took you some time to recognise Taryn as she hugged you, because last time you saw her, she was just a kid. And now... She and Brady were both adults.

"Nice to meet you again, Y/N," said their mom, Chantal as you shoot hands. Her husband smiled at you from the table where all of them were already seated and Matthew wrapped one arm around your waist as he pushed back the chair for you.

Everyone talked, laughed and enjoyed the autumn day with bright smiles on their faces. None of them seemed to mind your presence and you felt like a part of this happy family.

Halfway through the lunch, Matt pushed his chair closer to you as he whispered into your ear:

"What are you thinking about?"

You looked at him, at his bright eyes and eased smile. At the way he touched your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear. And you realized how much he cared for you and that there was nothing that could keep you two apart this time.

No more tiptoeing. No more 'taking things slow'.

"I'm thinking about how I trust you more than I trusted anyone in my life. I'm thinking about how I love you more than I loved anyone in my life."

His smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It was full of love and care and you didn't realized you were crying until Matt wiped the tears off your cheeks.

"You want to know what I'm thinking about?"

You simply nodded.

"I'm thinking about our future and about how happy you make me, Y/N. I'm thinking about how lucky I am that I can call you mine. I love you so much, Y/N." he whispered, taking one of your hand in his and intertwining your fingers.

"I love you too, Matt. And I promise I will never say goodbye to you."

#Matthew Tkachuk #hockey imagines #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk oneshot #matt tkachuk #matty tkachuk #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl one shot #calgary flames #calgary flames imagine #brady tkachuk #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #Hockey Players #hockey

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anythingwriter · 3 years

Text

How Could You?

Bonnie Gold x reader

Warnings: death, angst, probably lots of swearing, teeny tiny bit of sexual assault. Requested by @soggypancak

Word count: 2,515 of pure trash

*My first imagine in over a year! Feedback is always welcome. I’m sorry if this sucks lol, it’s been a while!*

*********************************************

The cold morning air made y/n shiver as she snuggled closer to Bonnie. Unintentionally they both fell asleep by the fire the night before, looking up at the stars as they talked about their love for each other, and how they hope to have a future. Aberama came out of his caravan that night going to put the fire out, but when he saw both the young adults curled up together asleep being warmed by that exact fire, he didn’t have the heart to wake them, so instead he put a blanket over them and admired their peaceful faces as they slept, praying nothing would ever corrupt them. Oh how he wishes he prayed harder.

“Bonnie,” y/n mumbled, she didn’t want to wake yet, but she was too cold to sleep.

“No.” Bonnie said.

Y/n giggled at her boyfriend, knowing he was tired as well but if she couldn’t sleep neither could Bonnie, she wouldn’t allow it. “I can’t sleep Bonnieeee.” She violently shook his shoulders with each word, hoping he would at least open his eyes.

“It’s pretty easy babe, just close your eyes,” Bonnie said with a smirk on his face.

Y/n gasped, and rolled over so she was laying on top of Bonnie and she pinned both his arms above his head. He finally opened his eyes and looked up at his girlfriend with his sly smirk on his face, one of the reasons she fell in love with him.

“That was pretty rude babe,” she mocked him. She stared down at him, admiring him, making sure she would always remember his face and every small detail about it. She let go of his arms and caressed the almost faded bruise on his chin from one of his previous fights. She loved him, and she knew the feeling would be forever. The moment didn’t last long enough for her though, Bonnie almost immediately reached up and grabbed his girlfriend's waist and quickly flipped them over so he was on top. Y/n let out a shriek at the sudden movement and couldn’t help the giggles that slipped out.

Bonnie too looked down at her like she did him, his eyes looking down at her with nothing but love and adoration for his girl. He smiled at her and she smiled back. “ I love you,” he told her. Y/n felt her heart swell at the declaration, knowing by the look on his face he truly meant it.

“I love you too.” She leaned upwards and gave Bonnie a kiss, it was slow and lazy because of the morning still clouding their judgement, but they both felt the love the other poured into it. Bonnie gave y/n’s hips a tight squeeze and when she gasped he took the opportunity and caressed her tongue with his. Y/n leant into the kiss even more, and moaned when their tongues met again, Bonnie winning the fight for dominance. The two broke apart with a jolt when they heard someone clearing their throat, and looked up to see Aberama looking at the two with a smirk. Y/n blushed and hid her face in Bonnies neck, while him and his father let out laughs together.

“Mornin’ love birds!” Y/n groaned at Aberamas loud voice, it still being too early for her. “Jesus Abe, could you be any louder?” “Course I could sweetheart, but I don’t wanna scare off all the deer,” he smiled down at her. Y/n rolled her eyes and pushed Bonnie off of her to sit up.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” She asked. Bonnie stood up and dusted off his clothes and looked at his father, wondering the same thing.

“I’m not sure, we have everythin’ we need for a while, maybe a relaxing day? Sound good?”

Bonnie and y/n both nodded their heads, needing a break from the gypsy life. And with everything going on with helping the Blinders, they were both exhausted. Especially Bonnie. Bonnie looked down and smiled at y/n, reaching out a hand to help her up. She gratefully took it, and stumbled when Bon pulled her up with unnecessary force. He quickly steadied her and let out a quiet laugh, and gave her a peck on the lips. He turned and smiled at his father and led her towards their caravan.

When they both were inside Bonnie shut the door so they could get changed in fresh clothes for the day. Y/n undressed out of her clothes from yesterday and looked around to see one of Bonnies sweaters. She reached for it, knowing it would keep her warm for the day.

The man she loved was staring at her, admiring how beautiful she looked in his clothes. She could feel him staring, and she smiled to herself.

“It’s rude to stare Bon.”

He shook his head with a fond smile on his face and spoke back to her “It's hard not to when you look so beautiful in my shirt.”

She turned and looked at him, with a look of disbelief on her face, “You flatter me Bon.” They both let out a laugh. He reached forwards and pulled her close to his chest. He looked down at her smaller frame and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He loved her so much, he didn’t know what he would do without her, and neither did she.

She looked at him like he hung her the moon and the stars, and he looked at her like she was an angel from above.

“I love you Bonnie, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”

“Luckily for you hun, you’ll never have to know because I’ll be with you forever.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep Bon, especially now with you working for that bastard Shelby.” Y/n could feel rage slowly boiling inside of her, she loved Bonnie but she hated him working for the Thomas Shelby. And he knew that, he knew the pain and anger he was putting her through, and he had his reasons why. He was doing it for them, to secure a future for them. A future they dream about, a future they pray for.

“I can keep this one babe, you know I would never leave you. Not until my last breath, and that’s years away from now!”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

The two embraced each other in a hug, and then they finished getting ready, for a day of relaxing.

~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip~~~~~~~~~~~

Aberama smiles as he listens to the laughter of his son and his girl echo through the woods. Never had he seen his son so happy, never has he seen his smile so big. And it was all thanks to her. The girl Aberama grew fond of, even thinking of her as his daughter. He knew nothing would break them apart, even if they were just young kids.

Their moments of peace were interrupted when a gun shot rang through the woods, piercing Aberama in the shoulder and he fell with a thud. Y/n let out a scream and jumped, Bonnie quickly shielding her with his own body. He wanted to run to his father and check on him, but his instincts took over and he needed to protect y/n from whoever was there.

“Hello, hello, we are the Billy Boys,”

Bonnie looked and saw men emerging from the woods, and he panicked not knowing who they were. How did they know where they are? Who are these men?

Y/n peaked out from Bonnies chest and saw the men and her heart sank. She was scared. A feeling she hadn’t felt since she got with Bonnie, always knowing he would protect her. She gripped on to Bonnies shirt tighter, and whispered his name to him.

“Shhh,” he turned around and shoved her in their caravan and grabbed his gun. “Stay here,” he ordered.

She didn’t want him to go, what if he got shot like his father? She couldn’t lose him, he promised.

“Bonnie please don-”

She was interrupted as he grabbed her face and kissed her. He needed her to be quiet, he didn’t want them to find her. He had to protect her.

“I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and asked him “you promise?”

He looked at her tear stained cheeks and hesitated before answering. He reached forward and wiped another falling tear from her eye,

“I- I promise.” He gave her the best reassuring smile he could and walked back out.

Bonnie walked out with his gun raised at the singing men. Why are they singing?

“Drop the peashooter son,” the one in the front said. Bonnie assumed he was the leader, and so did y/n from her spot in the caravan, watching through the small window.

He did, knowing it probably wouldn’t be good if he didn’t listen.

The men walked over to Aberama and stomped on his chest, close to where he was shot. Y/n audibly gasped from her spot and immediately cursed herself. Bonnie heard her, and he prayed that these men didn’t.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked.

The man smiled a Bonnie, a smile of nothing but pure evil. “Who am I is the wrong question son, who do we have hiding in the wagon?”

Bonnies prayer wasn’t answered, because obviously the man had heard you too.

“Open the door lads!”

“No!” Bonnie scrambled towards the door as fast as he could, only for the men’s leader to grab Bonnies dropped gun and brutally hit him in the jaw with it. Bonnie could feel the bones break and immediately tasted the blood. Aberama groaned from his spot on the ground, trying to reach his son.

Two of the men opened the caravan door and reached for y/n, who had tears running down her face at the sight of Bonnie and Abe, having seen everything from her useless hiding spot.

“Bo- Bonnie.” She cried. He looked over to her and tried to give her his best smile, even with his broken jaw.

The men forcefully yanked her out and threw her to the ground. She whimpered and tried to crawl to Bonnie, only to be kicked in her back and fall to the ground.

Bonnie saw red, he tried to stand up just to be pushed down again. The leader of the group laughed.

“I see, she’s your gypsy whore isn’t she? How did scum like you,” he paused and reached for y/n and pulled her up to his chest, “pull a fine piece of ass like this?” He reached down and grabbed y/n’s ass, and she cried as more tears fell.

Bonnie now had tears falling too, he tried so hard to get back to her. But every time, he was forcefully kicked back down.

Y/n zoned out, too focused on Bonnies face. The only words she managed to make out were Thomas Shelby, fighter, and over.

She looked up when she heard the last word. Over? What did they mean over?

She screamed and tried to break free when they hit Bonnie again, her and Aberama could do nothing but watch. They both screamed and cried Bonnies name as the men tied him to a post, and y/n realized it was a cross. Her heart sank, she knew what was happening.

Bang

She jumped and fell to the ground when she heard it, knowing her Bonnie was gone. She knew what they had done, he was dead.

The man stuffed a paper in Bonnies jacket, his lifeless body just hanging there. A message, for Thomas Shelby. She knew something was going to happen when he hired Abe and Bonnie, nothing good comes from the Brummie Gangster. He brings death to everyone he meets.

The men walked away, singing their song again.

Aberama was the first over to Bonnie, screaming and crying his sons name. Yelling at him as if he could hear. His son. It was the worst pain he had ever felt.

Y/n was still on the ground, shaking and crying for her loss. She couldn’t look at him, it wasn’t her Bonnie anymore, it was just his shell. His soul and spirit were gone, there was no bringing him back.

Aberama looked over and his heart broke for the young girl. He may have lost his son, but she lost her everything. Her boyfriend, her best friend and all her firsts. Abe untied Bonnies body, and carefully laid him down on the ground. With tears still streaming down his face, he walked over to y/n and gently helped her up and walked her over to Bon. She may not of wanted to, but she needed to say goodbye.

Y/n sat next to Bonnies body, too afraid to look just yet. As soon as she looked at his lifeless face she turned the other way and hurled up everything she had eaten that day. She began to dry heave, unable to breathe from crying. Aberama rubbed her back and soothed the young girl. It felt like hours but after only minutes, she had calmed down and thanked Aberama. He walked away, giving her a moment alone.

She looked at his face, almost unrecognizable from all the blood. After moments of just staring, a new feeling took over her body.

Anger

She was angry with Bonnie for dying, angry at the stupid fucking singing men, angry at herself for making the noise in the caravan.

Maybe, just maybe if she was silent this never would of happened, he would still be alive.

Y/n reached for his shoulders and violently shook him, just like she had that morning, only now the shakes were full of anguish and not love.

“Ho- how could you Bonnie! You promised me, you said you would never leave! Y- yo- you promised! HOW COULD YOU?!”

She screamed and cried, her yells slowly turning to whispers. Her energy drained. The days events taking their toll on her.

Aberama heard her screams and rushed to the young girls side. He looked at his sons body and closed his eyes as he scooped y/n into his arms, slowly rocking himself and the girl. His shirt became damp, and he didn’t care.

For hours they sat there, in each other’s arms crying for their loss, both vowing to get revenge for their Bonnie.

As Aberama stood up to leave, y/n did as well. Abe left to do something and she had a feeling she knew what, but she wasn’t going to question it.

As his figure faded into the woods, y/n’s hand reached down to her stomach, feeling the ever so small bump…

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

Midnight Cravings

so, i actually wrote most of this in july but never finished it and decided to fix it up for todays prompt bc i was feeling a lil lazy lol. and i think its one of my faves, especially the ending.

2.2k words

cw: none

enjoy!! :)

It was just past two in the morning and Aelin was wide awake. Not due to a mountain of paperwork, or a nightmare or one of her kids needing her. Aelin was wide awake because she was absolutely starving.

The type of starving it felt like she'd never eaten a day in her life. Like her stomach was going to eat itself.

Her stomach growled again, louder than before, and beside her, his voice muffled, Rowan asked, “Is that your stomach or the wind outside?”

“Shut up,” Aelin mumbled, as her stomach continued its song. Gods, why was she so hungry? She practically devoured the fruits in the fruit bowl just before bed, she had a healthy serving of dinner, and a large slice of chocolate torte for dessert.

But here she was, close to eating her damned pillow to sate her starvation.

Aelin glanced over towards her mate, his back to her, and she shuffled closer, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Rowan,” she started to say, but Rowan cut her off.

“I'm not going to the kitchens.”

She pouted, although he couldn't see her. “Please?” she knew that if she used her manners, then he would do just about anything.

But it didn't work. Not just yet. “There's some fruit in the bowl.”

“I ate them all.” He sighed heavily, knowing that he was losing this conversation. “Please? I am your mate, your wife, the mother of your children.”

Rowan snorted. “Really? I was starting to suspect that the three silver-haired children were Lorcan's.”

Her hunger nearly disappeared at the thought of that. “Don't be gross.” Reaching over, Aelin kissed the tip of his ear, smiling as he shuddered in pleasure as she nibbled on it. “Please?”

Rowan sighed heavily, knowing that he lost, and Aelin barely hid her smile. “I'll go,” he said. “But only if you join me.”

Her smile did disappear at that. “But the bed is so warm.”

“Exactly. If I have to leave it, so do you.”

“Fine,” she mumbled reluctantly, but quickly perked up, realising that she would be getting food. Rowan was a much better cook than her. Aelin used to have basic cooking skills, but with being Queen and then becoming a mother, she never cooked anymore and really had no need to; not with multiple cooks under the palace roof. She did try a few years ago as a treat for her family, but everything turned into a crisp and wasn't even suitable for the dogs in the kennels.

Scrambling out of bed, the Queen and King of Terrasen tied on their robes and put on their slippers. Aelin loved the sight of Rowan looking so domestic, it was ridiculous how much she loved it.

Since Isolde was only six months old and far too young to be left behind, Rowan put her in the wooden carrier to take with them into the kitchens, their movements silent as the grave as they transferred their youngest from her crib and into the crafty carrier—Isolde was the only one of their children that slept soundlessly through the night at such a young age, and loathed to be woken up. As Rowan did that, Aelin checked in on Alder in his room, their son a little over three years old, but he slept like a log and Aelin knew that he wouldn't wake up at any point when they were gone.

As they left their chambers, Aelin nearly ruined all their good work and almost woke up their other children when she bit out a curse at the sudden leg cramp that shot up her right calf. Rowan glanced at her, asking if she was okay, and after a moment she was, although she was left a little dazed at the suddenness of it all.

Aelin's legs had been cramping randomly of late, but she didn't notice anything of concern. If it continued, she would go to Magnolia and see if anything could be done about it. The last thing Aelin needed was to fall ill, she had far too many things to do with winter arriving in a few weeks. She did know that if anything was wrong with her, that she could rely on Rowan completely.

Aelin's stomach growled for the umpteenth time, the sound lasting for a good minute before it settled. Isolde fidgeted in her sleep, but did not wake.

“I think your stomach was just trying to talk to me.”

“It was,” Aelin agreed. “It said that we need to hurry the hell up or it's going to disintegrate.”

“We better do as it says then. It'd be cruel to subject Terrasen to a hungry Queen. No one should suffer as I do when you're starving.”

“You make me sound horrible.”

“You are,” he said, humour dancing in his dark eyes. “And not just when you're hungry.”

Aelin mumbled under her breath. Rowan decided to pretend not to hear her, even as he fought a smile.

After what felt like an eternity, they reached the kitchens, Rowan placing Isolde onto the counter closest to them. Aelin rushed towards the bowls of fruit, grabbing an apple and a pear, eating the fruits simultaneously. She missed the small, private smile Rowan gave her as he went to the pantry, asking her what she was in the mood for, one eye on their child. But still, she slept and Rowan for a moment, wished that all of their children had been like that, but knew that there was no point in complaining when they all slept quietly now.

“Something filling,” was all Aelin could think of to say. But after a moment decided on an omelette, filled with bacon, mushrooms, onion, red bell-peppers and carrot. As she and Rowan prepped the ingredients—with Rowan wanting his own omelette—Aelin contemplated in silence, her brows furrowed as she chopped up the carrots.

“What are you thinking about, Fireheart?” Rowan asked when he noticed his wife's expression.

“Just trying to remember the last time I was this hungry. I've been like this for at least a week and a half.”

“I've noticed. You haven't had this big of an appetite for a good number of years.”

She didn't comment on that, lost in her own world. “And my legs have been cramping lately too. I haven't injured myself. Have I been sleeping in strange positions?”

“No, you're sleeping just fine.”

Her frown deepened. “Maybe I'm just stressed for the winter preparations.”

“Possibly, I know that you worry a lot for the people during winter.” They both did, as the winters in Terrasen were brutal. Each year there was always a small number of people that passed due to the cold for a number of reasons. When those lists made their way in Aelin's hands, it always hit her hard, her guilt a palpable thing, even after Rowan would tell her that it was in no way her fault.

But that wasn't the reasons for her consuming hunger and leg cramps—Rowan had noticed the change in her scent weeks ago and when he noticed, he thought that Aelin would too. But she was completely oblivious and he didn't want to spoil the surprise, although it was getting harder each day not to say something.

However, he couldn't help but count back the weeks to the day of conception. He was fairly certain that it was when Aelin had been reading a particularly steamy novel on the window seat in their sitting room and jumped on him like they had never had sex before when he had come to ask if she was joining him in bed.

It would fit in with list of unusual places they have conceived their children. Elentiya had been in the library (either in the archives or in Aelin and Rowan's private nook, neither were sure), Norrin against an oak tree (which they discovered after they have calmed down that the Little Folk had watched the entire encounter, with Aelin becoming stuck between wanting to laugh or hide under a rock), Alder against one of the many palace chimneys, and Isolde in a linen closet.

Maybe one day they would conceive a child in their bed like most people did.

They got to cooking, with Rowan standing behind Aelin and guiding her with the wooden spoon and plating their midnight meal before it burned into a crisp. Isolde babbled in her sleep as the sounds of cooking reached her, but still slept. It wouldn't be long, however, until she woke up to be fed. Aelin placed their youngest by her feet as they sat down at the small dining table in the far corner of the kitchen where the workers took their breaks.

The smile on Aelin's face as she bit into the fluffy omelette was certainly worth being woken up in the middle of the night.

However, her fork stilled in mid-air when she was halfway done when realisation dawned on her.

Finally.

“I'm pregnant,” was all she said, her Ashryver eyes growing wide. Rowan didn't bother to hide his smile. This was why he didn't say anything. It was always worth it when she revealed those beautiful words to him. “Rowan, I'm pregnant. The last time I was this hungry was when I was pregnant with Alder and the leg cramps are from Norrin's pregnancy. And all the fruit I can't stop eating is just like when I was pregnant with Isolde. How haven't I noticed anything?”

“You've been busy,” Rowan said, reaching over to take her hands in his and kissed her fingers.

“You knew, didn't you?” Aelin asked, her eyes narrowed just slightly.

“I may have noticed.”

“You should have told me.”

“I like it better when you come to the realisation yourself,” he said simply.

Aelin shot out of her seat and sat on his lap, a pretty smile gracing her face as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers playing the the hair at the nape of his neck. Rowan wound his arms around her waist and kissed her on the cheeks, the tips of her nose, the corner of her lips and then her mouth.

Aelin hummed contentedly and kissed him back. When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his.

“We're insane.”

Rowan laughed deeply at the sudden statement. “What makes you say that?”

“We're having a fifth baby. Lorcan and Elide only have three and I always thought that they'd have at least a dozen, but they don't and we're about to have five. That's insane. We're insane.”

“We are, but I like that about us,” he said, kissing her again. Her face was open and soft, her eyes dancing with happiness, but he still found himself asking, “Are you okay with it?”

“Of course I am, buzzard. More than words can say.” Aelin kissed him to emphasise that fact, his hand reaching down onto her belly and was content to stay like that forever. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She always thought that she’d just have one child, maybe two, but to have five was something she never dreamed of.

Isolde finally decided to wake up and scream her displeasure at being hungry. Aelin was off him in an instant, cooing at their daughter as Aelin sat back in her seat and fed not just herself, but Isolde at the same time. His mate was spectacular at multitasking like that.

They couldn't wait to meet their fifth child.

X X X X X X

Rowan was surprised that his children hadn't kicked down the doors to the bedchamber with how excited they were. Even little Isolde was a ball of energy and she was by far their most quiet child. Rowan lead them to their mother, reminding them that they had to be quiet and gentle, because mama had just gone through a long process of bringing in their new sibling into the world.

They entered the bedchamber and Aelin greeted them with a tired but loving smile telling them to come meet their new sister, the kids went onto the bed, surrounding Aelin and the baby, happiness and wonderment in their eyes as they took in the little bundle of joy, her silver hair stark against her lightly tanned skin. She had opened her eyes briefly during her first feeding and Aelin had groaned playfully when she spotted that they were pine-green, muttering how of course I labour for a whole day to give birth to another you. But he knew that she didn't care if she was born with green hair and yellow eyes, Aelin loved her immensely.

“What's her name, mama?” Elentiya asked softly, carefully trailing a finger down her sisters cheek.

“Elowynn-Yrene.” Rowan would never forget the pure joy in Yrene's eyes when Aelin asked if the healer would give them her blessing to grace their child with her name, as a thank you for all the years of coming down and helping Aelin, for eradicating Erawan, and for being a great friend to both of them. It had taken them a few minutes to convince their friend, citing that the honour was far too much, but Yrene eventually said "yes".

“That's pretty,” Alder supplied, a wide smile on his face. Aelin kissed his temple and thanked him for his kind words.

Aelin moved her eyes from Alder to Rowan, smiling as her mate stood there, taking them in.

His family, their family. Never did he think he would be so blessed to have this.

His and Aelin's children; the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

Rowan went and joined his family on the bed, the smile on his face one of Aelin's favourites.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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