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enhypenandpaper · 3 years

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rewriting fate (to get the ending we deserve) | yang jungwon

pairing: Yang Jungwon x gn!reader

genre: soulmate!au, angst (with a happy ending), some fluff

warnings: blood, self-inflicted wounds (in an unconventional sense), mentions of scars, self-doubt

word count: 2.3k

summary: in a world where the universe designates two people as soulmates with matching tattoos, you were raised to trust and respect the universe’s will to no end. however, when the boy you love turns out not to be the other half of your fated pair, you begin to question how much the universe can really be trusted. are you and Jungwon actually making a mistake? Or has the universe?

You were laying on your back next to your boyfriend, the blanket he always kept in his car for moments like this protecting your clothes from the wet grass. With the stars shining above you and the boy you loved beside you, you felt like you could conquer the world.

You turned your head so you could look at Jungwon; his big, sparkling eyes, his soft hair resting on his forehead. Your eyes travel down his long neck and pause at the collarbones peeking out from his t-shirt. You watch as his chest rises and falls, it takes a moment for you to realize that yours is moving at the same pace. Your breathing was linked.

Jungwon, having felt your stare, moved his head to confront you. He raised his eyebrows and started to smirk, obviously about to make a joke about how whipped you were for him until you interrupted.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, watching Jungwon try and fail to hide the way your words affected him, pressing his lips together to hide his smile and turning to face the night sky again so you can’t see how pink his cheeks are.

Your boyfriend unlaces your hands and, before you can whine, configures the two of you so that you can rest on his chest with his now free arm around you.

You snuggle closer into him, feeling his heartbeat pulse through your body.

“My parents had a talk with me,” you blurt out, unable to keep it a secret like you originally planned.

“…About?” Jungwon asks tentatively.

“They think we’re too old to be dating someone who isn’t our soulmate.”

God, you hated that word.

In this world, everyone was born with a mark, sort of like a tattoo, somewhere on their body. The placement changed with each generation and growing up, you and your peers walked around with dark blue drawings right above your hearts, courtesy of the universe. There were only two of each mark per generation, a matching pair indicating that those two people were soulmates.

Soulmate, perfect match, life-long confidante, a person who complemented you in every way and was worth any sacrifice, a person fated for you and you, them.

If you didn’t think it was total bullshit, you would’ve found it romantic.

You weren’t usually one to question the universe or think up complicated conspiracies to refute how the world worked, but this was something you wouldn’t budge on.

Because how could the universe always be right when you and Jungwon didn’t have the same mark?

Yang Jungwon, the boy with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen and a smile to match. The person who could make you laugh at the most inappropriate of times, smile at the darkest, relax at the most stressful. The boy whose side you would never leave, the boy you would let the world burn for, the boy for whom you would do anything because anything that brought him happiness brought it to you by default.

Your best friend-turned-boyfriend, Jungwon has been by your side through it all. But now that you two were becoming adults, you were expected to leave your little “crushes” behind and start looking for your respective soulmates. People in your world still dated, even if they knew their significant other wasn’t their soulmate, but it was mostly seen as a way to gain experience for later. It was a given that if the person you were dating found their soulmate (or wanted to start looking), you would let them go with no questions asked.

That was sort of the plan when you and Jungwon started liking each other back in your last year of middle school, giggling and looking away whenever you held hands or made eye contact for long enough, but the young relationship that everyone cooed at easily developed into a strong bond between you and the boy lying next to you, an unbreakable bond that nobody could seem to understand.

So, to everyone else, you and Jungwon were just wasting time.

“Do you agree with them?”

“What?”

“Do you agree with what they said?” Jungwon repeated quietly. “Do you think we’re wasting time?”

“No,” you answered immediately, feeling your boyfriend exhale. “Do you?”

“Y/N, if I ever thought that this wasn’t worth it, I would’ve ended it right away. I would never hold you back like that.”

He always thought in terms of you, not him.

“But what if I’m holding you back? I want you to be happy, the happiest you can be, and if that means you have to be with someone else-”

“It doesn’t,” he assured you.

Your hand that was resting on his stomach fiddled with the fabric of his shirt.

“I told them that I had already found my soulmate, that I haven’t needed to look for anything since you moved in down the street.” You smile, thinking of how chubby Jungwon’s cheeks were when you first met as children.

He huffed out a laugh, raising his head to kiss the top of yours.

“You make me feel unstoppable,” Jungwon told you, “like the two of us could take on the universe when we’re together.”

“We kind of already are,” you joke, referring to how you’ve been ignoring the universe’s will for years now, “even the universe has failed at keeping us apart.”

You hesitated, unable to force something to the back of your mind.

“What about them, Jungwon? Are we horrible people for leaving them alone?”

He knew who you were talking about.

“I hope that they both have someone in their life who chooses them,” he told you, “instead of letting some glorified drawings control their happiness. I mean, if they really are supposed to be exactly what we need, maybe they aren’t looking for us either. Maybe they’ve found what we have.”

You sat up suddenly, Jungwon’s arm falling off your shoulders and flopping down beside his own body.

“What happens when you’re running errands one day or you’re out with your family and you see someone with the same mark as you?” You ask softly, staring ahead at the ground as your fingers tangled themselves in the grass, tugging and breaking the weak strands. “What if you meet them one day? What if someone’s shirt slips and it’s like you’re standing in front of a mirror or someone taps you on the shoulder because they could’ve sworn that-”

“Y/N,” Jungwon stops you, pleading.

You hear him sit up to join you.

You looked at him and physically felt all the anxiety leave your body in waves once your eyes met his. His sparkling eyes held so much love that it would be painful for anyone who didn’t share his feelings to look directly at them.

“There is nothing that anyone could say or do to ever make me rethink my decision, make me rethink you. We’ve never needed something to tell us how to feel, this relationship is entirely our own. Nothing can take away what we feel for each other… what we’ve built together.”

That was when you smiled, overwhelmed by the sweetness and the realness of the boy sitting next to you.

He was right, of course, your love wasn’t sketched out in the blueprint of the universe. It was grown and cultivated by two pairs of gentle hands, like a flower blooming in the box outside someone’s window or a blazing fire heating a home.

You had never needed the universe’s help to find true love.

Your boyfriend reached toward you, cradling your tear-stained cheeks with his hands.

“Do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel like you’re on top of the world? Because that’s how I feel whenever I’m with you. You give me strength, strength that has defied the universe. How could a stranger pull my attention away from all of this? From you.”

“If they see them, how do we explain to them that there was some mistake?” You whispered.

You and Jungwon may be set on ignoring the curses inked on your chests, but the ones who shared your marks may not be.

One would think Jungwon was going to kiss you with the way he was staring at you, but his gaze was much too serious for that. It looked like he was searching for something, searching for a solution, an answer to your question.

But, instead of kissing you, he moved away and toward the picnic basket you had packed and brought for your little stargazing date.

He dug around for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. The moonlight flashed across the silver knife as Jungwon moved back to where you were sitting with it in his hand.

“Jungwon…?”

He pushed his shirt off one of his shoulders. Your eyes grazed over his bare upper chest and sharp collarbones before settling on the blue ink resting above his heart.

The skin around his soulmate mark was a little lighter than the rest of his body, because of how often he covered it, which made it stand out even more.

It was the thing you hated most, permanently attached to the thing you loved most, so you couldn’t stop staring.

The glint of the knife tore you from your daze. Jungwon had raised it to his chest.

“Jungwon, what are you doing?”

He paused. “Choosing my own path.”

You placed your hand on top of his that was clutched around the hilt of the knife. You weren’t really sure what he was trying to do, you had never been so in the dark when it came to him before, but you knew that you didn’t like the idea of something dangerous being so close to your boyfriend.

“We should be free to be with whoever we want, Y/N, and for me, that’s you. Mark or not,” he told you.

You stared into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation passing between your gazes. You let go of his hand and watched, torn, as he brought the edge of the knife up to his chest and began to slice a clean line through his soulmate mark. He hesitated before drawing another line in the opposite direction, ending up with an “x” over this tattoo.

The blood dripping from the cut exposed how deep it really was. It would definitely leave a scar, as you knew was his goal.

You grabbed napkins from the picnic basket, carefully wiping the blood away from Jungwon’s skin before it all traveled far enough to stain his clothes. He sat there quietly, watching you, trying to gauge your reaction to what he had done.

You dabbed at his skin gently. With the blood gone you could really see what the knife had done. A red “x”—the blood was already coming back—had marred the small stain of the universe. He had made sure that nobody, not even his soulmate, would be able to see it, let alone recognize it as a copy of their own.

All those years of being told that the universe’s will was absolute and that a splotch of blue ink was the highest law that could be adhered to had been rendered invalid with two swipes of a knife. Jungwon had freed himself from the heavy, groundless expectations set by an invisible force and upheld by your friends, family, society.

The one thing that kept Jungwon from being completely yours (at least, in the eyes of everyone else), was now gone.

The knife lay discarded next to the two of you, blottings of Jungwon’s blood staining the blade and the picnic blanket beneath it.

“Y/N, if you’ll still have me-”

You picked up the knife, already brushing your shirt to the side with your other hand.

“Wait, I never expected you to-” he tried to stop you.

“I want to.”

His hands reached out toward you but stopped halfway, watching, confused, as your fingers traced the mark that, while completely different from his, was in the same exact spot on your chest.

You could feel your heart beating beneath your soulmate mark. It was pumping hard, as if to force the mark off your body from the inside. You thought of how much time you had spent hating the tattoo, wishing you would wake up one day and it would be gone or would have somehow morphed into something that resembled Jungwon’s.

You recalled the night when you realized that you loved Jungwon, no matter how much your own skin was telling you you didn’t, and you had tried to scratch the ink off. Of course, it was much too deep to take off like that, and the resulting redness just made it stand out even more like Jungwon’s had, results of the contempt for your marks.

You mirrored your boyfriend’s movements from before, crossing out your tattoo with the knife and ignoring the bleeding. Jungwon went to clean up the wound with napkins, like you had done for him, but you stalled him, wanting every last remnant of ink to bleed out of your body.

Once the bleeding had slowed down, Jungwon placed a hand over your heart that beat solely for him. His thumb rubbed the tender skin gently, marveling at the new look of it while still being careful around the fresh cuts.

“Look, Wonnie.” you point a finger at his hand on your chest and another at his own. “We match.”

The two of you had overridden the universe and created your own matching pair. A soulmate pair.

Jungwon smiled warmly, a giggle escaping past his lips as you shared this moment of disbelief and freedom and love.

He cradled your face in his hands once again, pressing his lips to yours and making you question how something so obviously perfect could ever be a mistake.

A/N: i hope that this isn’t… too much, the idea of two people making this choice for themselves, in this way, knowing that they were defying a fundamental law… i thought it was so romantic! drama is a little necessary when it comes to love, you know?

mwah <3

#yang jungwon #jungwon #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #enhypen jungwon #enhypen #jungwon fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction

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cakers-2000 · 3 years

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Hey ! Are you taking requests right now ? If so, can you write, like, literally anything you want with Hanako-kun and s/o ? I just finished the anime and I'm craving more content 🥺🥺🥺

It's been so long since you requested I'm so sorry!

Still I hope you enjoy! I was already planning on writing something for Hanako-kun he's my absolute favorite so it all worked out perfectly! 🥰

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~Savior (Hanako-Kun X Reader)~

Word Count: 1.3k

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Sometimes you cursed the day you met Hanako. He was annoying, loud, kind of arrogant and to top it all off, a spirit left to inhabit your school and torture you daily. Your first meeting with Hanako had been… eventful to say the least.

Being related to Kou definitely had its pros and cons. In fact your first introduction to the ghost boy was through Kou himself.

And ever since that day he had been a blight on your life, making it his mission to annoy you every chance he got.

A small sigh escaped your throat as you sat yourself down against the wall in an empty hallway. Your day had been more than hectic, you almost cried when you heard the final bell signaling your school day was over. You could finally relax, something you had been looking forward to all day. You were practically hiding yourself from your best friend Akane, he could be… a handful sometimes, especially with his affection for Aoi. Not that you didn’t love him and his interests but today, he was just too much for you. Normally you would go home and relax there but lately, home wasn’t even home for you anymore.

You reached into the school bag resting beside you and dug through, fingers dancing along the edges of your many different school books before your eyes caught a dazzling silver gleam. You grabbed the object and pulled out a rather small book. It couldn’t have been bigger than a cellphone. You flipped through the book, hesitating on each page that held a brilliantly drawn picture.

One held a picture of that dear friend Akane. Another of Aoi watering the plants in class. Yet another held a picture of your two brothers Kou and Minamoto. Your hand stopped when you spotted the smiling face of Hanako himself. It had actually been quite a few days since you had last seen the ghost boy. You would admit it had been relaxing to get a break from him, but you did wonder how he was doing and what had stopped him from bugging you daily like he used to. You flipped to the next page in the book, a blank sheet and once more dug through your backpack to search for a pencil or pen.

You had failed to notice the shadow slinking towards you. Nor had you noticed your book slip daintly off of your lap and disappear into the dark depths of the hallway in front of you.

Finally you felt the cool metal of your pen and you reached for your book, excited to get the artistic juices flowing again but were shocked to find that it wasn’t there.

“What the…”

You slowly stood yourself up and grabbed the backpack, throwing it on your back and beginning your search for the book. If it was a new book you would’ve paid it no mind and simply left but that book had years worth of sketches in it. You had almost completed every page, it was so much hard work you couldn’t just leave it.

As you strolled further and further down the hallway you began to feel uneasy. The hairs on the back of your neck seemed to stand on end and you could almost swear there was the sound of feet behind you, but everytime you looked there was no one.

You let out a defeated sigh when you seemed to arrive at a dead end, your book nowhere in sight and kicked at the ground in frustration. All of that hard work, gone.

You felt something hit your toes and glanced down to find the book, resting upside down on the ground. Your face contorted into one of displeasure and confusion before you bent down to grab hold of it and then you heard it. The pitter patter of something dripping from the ceiling. Right above you. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt something cold drop onto your cheek.

What the hell!?

You slowly lifted your gaze upwards, fear rushing through your system and almost screamed when you saw the disgusting creature in front of you. It looked like a black blob, but its teeth. They were so sharp, and the drool that fell from its jaws as it stared down at you. It sent a shudder down your back. You wanted to scream, to cry out for help but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were frozen in utter fear.

Besides, this thing wasn’t human. Who was going to help you from this kind of beast?

You felt a tentacle-like object slink its way around your foot and you let out a gasp as it pulled you to the floor, still standing above you as it came closer, ready to devour.

You racked your brain. Who could help you? You couldn’t die like this.

And finally your body let you scream out the only name you knew could help you.

“HANAKO!”

It was a long shot. There was only a small chance he would be able to even hear you let alone rescue you in time, but it was that or nothing.

The creature came even closer at your shout and you could feel its hot breath on your face. If you reached a finger out you’d be able to pierce it on the teeth only inches from your nose. You closed your eyes. This was it. You were dead.

The sound that greeted you made your stomach churn. The sound of a knife sliding through meat, an odd gurgling sound that made you want to gag, and then the creature above you screamed. You didn’t dare open your eyes as you felt a rush of cool liquid drip on top of you, not that you would’ve been able to see anyways, your tears would have blurred your vision all too much.

“Good work Hakujoudai.”

That voice. That oh so familiar voice. You quickly snapped your eyes open at the sound and could see him standing before you, waggling his finger playfully at the Yo-Kai ball circling around him.

He could seem to sense you staring at him and smiled warmly in your direction. “Hi thereeeee. Made it just in time huh?”

He practically skipped towards you and knelt down beside you. You could feel his cold hands grab onto your cheek as he wiped what you could now see was a piece of that disgusting blob creature off of you. “I’m glad I made it.”

You opened your mouth to speak but the sound that escaped you was that of a squeak as he pulled you into his arms. Your head rested firmly against his chest as he held onto you with a rather tight grip.

“H-Hanako.”

“Shhh…”

You did as he said, allowing him to rest his head on top of your own. His fingers were cold as always but you allowed him to intertwine his with your own and trace patterns along the top of your hand with his thumb.

“Please be more careful (Y/N).”

His voice was just above a whisper as he spoke to you, giving your hand a light squeeze to emphasize how serious he was.

“I will. Thank you for protecting me.”

He pulled himself away at your words and stared you down before bursting out into laughter. You tilted your head rather quizzically at him and he tried to stifle his giggles. He stood himself up and held his hand out to help you up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up in the restroom, okay?”

A smile fell to your face and you gave him a nod before accepting his outstretched hand and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

“Whatever you say Hanako.”

#hanako kun #yugi amane #hanako #amane #toilet bound hanako kun #hanako kun x reader #hanako kun headcanons #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #toilet bound hanako kun headcanons

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foryoumyheroes · 4 years

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hi! I dont know if you are still taking request, or even active but if you are, could you do a headcanon with todoroki having a s/o that loves drawing him ? they could be already on a relationship or not ur choice

Hi anon! If you're reading this I previously replied that I am sort of taking requests, but I was inactive until recent. In order to make that up to you I'll give you both a scenario fic and headcanons since I was struck by inspiration to write this! Hope you enjoy!! I kinda spiraled off topic asdfgh

Pls accept my word-vomit like I’m a cat giving you a dead rat.

The Campos

Todoroki x Artist!Reader

"How is it possible for anyone to be that handsome."

Even you were surprised by the words tumbling out of your own head, stopping your pencil in its place and as you froze like a still frame. It wasn’t long before you felt heat creep up your body, painting your cheeks all the way to your ears with a red like the sunset.

It was always like this.

There was nothing artistic from the way his image always flowed from your pencil in hurried lines and messy scribbles, and there was no beauty from how you always hunched over into the collar of your shirts whenever you felt the burning of your emotions. You wrote Todoroki [Name] and [Surname] Shouto in the margins of your notebook as if you had reverted back to primary school, doodled among little tiny hearts and sketches of his side profile.

Maybe your parents were right. You should’ve just gone to art school like they had said and fallen down the path of them and so many of your other relatives. But at fourteen you were just so caught up with wanting to be different. You had to be. You had to get off the beaten path and flow out of the frame you were confined in. You said that in this family you would never be the best artist, but you could become the best Hero that the [Surname]s had ever had. You were a Hero-in-training, but you knew that at heart you would always be an artist.

And now at sixteen you were at a loss. You were at a loss because whenever you looked over at the last window seat in 1-A, your talents always fell short. There was nothing you could draw that could bridge the distance you felt, to calm the foreign feelings in your body. Your drawing skills had not diminished while you practiced war, but you were backtracking now. Perhaps you really should’ve gone to art school instead.

Maybe then you would find a way to express how you truly felt.

Nothing you wrote or drew now could match up to the endless admiration you had for one Todoroki Shouto.

Everyone else was mere background noise to Todoroki when he set his gaze on you.

Although Bakugou and his group of friends were in the common room shouting and making a ruckus and Todoroki’s own friends were giggling at the back of him, tossing frosting, floating bowls of batter to Iida’s ire.

His eyes always sought you out.

It was difficult to explain why. Even now, with you in a baggy sweatshirt and loose jeans rolled at the ankles, Todoroki wondered why he was paying you so much attention. The world around you was spinning and you were at an impasse. You were only writing in your notebook, probably jotting down notes at a speed he couldn’t comprehend. Your head was always buried in that Campos notebook.

With a loud screech, Kirishima bumped his hip on the dining table, jostling both you and him from your standstill, pencils rolling across the wood. Your eyes immediately flashed up and met with his wide heterochromic ones. A deer in the headlights. The two of you turned away as quickly as it came, ignorant to the pink that bloomed on both of your cheeks while a spark flickered across his left cheek.

“Whatcha drawing there, [Name]?” Kirishima asked boisterously, pulling out the chair beside you while you heated up like a furnace, waving your arms around wildly and sputtered like a train engine. You couldn’t snatch it away fast enough and his dark eyes fell on your doodle-ridden pages with a soft, “Oh.” His lips formed a small O shape. His eyes carefully looked up at the hot-and-cold boy before dropping back down to your page. You carefully averted your eyes, fixing [e/c] orbs on some faraway wall until he carefully pulled your notebook toward him and quickly scribbling something down, pushing the pages back toward you.

When you snuck a peek at the drawing of a blond gremlin with spiky hair like a porcupine, and a crude drawing of a K and B underneath an umbrella, a loud laugh tumbled out of your mouth.

It was as if Todoroki didn’t exist anymore as you gave Kirishima your full attention, laughing to whatever jokes he made or witty one-liners.

He wasn’t a poet. He didn’t know the words.

Others could talk about how selfish he was for having his mother’s pretty face and his powerful Quirk; boys and girls have tried before, handing him letters in his locker and bouquets of flowers, but that never mattered to him. Only you have stayed on his mind. His attractive features and his Quirk only had stock to it if it helped him win over your affections.

In crowded places and busy gatherings, when he stood in solidarity, when his hands hung by his sides and his eyes were left with nothing to see, he wondered what primitive part of him was always acting out. How his hands wanted to cut off all connection with the logic in his brain and reach out to grab yours. How he always silently watched you from faraway, physically unable to tear your visage away from his eyes. His body always acted without reason — the heavy palpitations against his rib cage, the rose against his skin, the sweat on his palms, the dilation of his pupils.

He wondered how he was in Heaven just by being near you.

He wondered what it would take to get you to look at him for once.

But your eyes would just be deep within the confines of your Campos notebook, impervious to his lingering thoughts of you.

Surprisingly it was Todoroki who offered to clean up after his friends while they went into the showers to wash away the flour and frosting that coated their hair and skin. The night had already been long by the time they turned in, heavy and drowsy after making several tins of uneven, ugly cupcakes. He had to do something with all of this energy, he thought, scrubbing away at stubborn stripes of sugar that painted the counter tops.

The lights were off and only the streaks of moonlight filtered through the large windows of the dorm room. You had left with Bakugou’s group several hours earlier, accepting Kirishima’s invitation to go to the nearest konbini for ice cream with an open hand.

Now it was just him.

Tossing the rag in the wash bin, he was about to make his way back to his room when his eyes fell upon the dining table and he found your notebook.

How could he not know it was yours. He had seen it within your hands more times than he could count, more obsessively than Midoriya’s Hero Analysis for the Future No. 13. He wondered if that was why he was so interested in you. Your dedication to your studies were admirable. Nearly twenty-four-seven.

Carefully, he crept closer to it, as if it was a bomb going to detonate before he picked it up.

The pages curled and crinkled in his hands, and he debated opening it.

It was just a school notebook, right? You probably only had notes and worksheets hidden inside of it.

Maybe he could get an answer to your time. He could discover the subjects that you were struggling at, or even find one that you were better than him at. You were a couple ranks below him in the class grades. When he returned your Campos to you he could ask to study with you.

He flipped it open and his heart stopped at the sight.

Shit, shit, shit! you thought, running down the stairs, taking two at a time. It was late enough that the elevators were locked for curfew and you cursed Aizawa-sensei for putting your room at the very top of the building. After you had gotten back from the konbini with your friends, cheeks hurting from how hard you were laughing at Kaminari’s antics and Sero’s sarcasm, you had completely forgotten that you left your notebook on the kitchen table. You only remembered when you dug through your bag only to scramble around when nothing came up. If anyone like Hagakure or god forbid — Mineta, found it, you would never live it down. You were lucky enough that Kirishima was a good sport about it. He knew how to keep his mouth shut, but everyone else?

You wondered if it was too late to transfer schools.

Your feet landed harshly on the carpeted ground after the final step, head snapping back and forth for your notebook, but froze at what you saw.

Even in the dim light of the moon and past the hand clamped over his face, you could see the heavy pink on his cheeks.

Your heart dropped.

“I — “ His hand fell to his side and you were given a full view of the strong flush on his face. “That’s my notebook... Todoroki-kun.”

When the Campos dropped to the floor and he dashed across the common room, hand around your waist and his lips on yours, you found that you didn’t need flowery words or an arsenal of artistic techniques to express how you felt.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, locking him deeper in the embrace, fingers cording through his soft red and white hair.

The instinct to be closer to him would be all you need to overcome the division between a desire for him and the stillness of your body.

Headcanons:

After you two get together and it becomes more obvious that you’re drawing him, he’ll coax you out of doing it in secret.

He’ll ask to take pictures of the drawings on the margins of your notebook or if you’re drawing it on scrap paper, he’ll ask to have it after you’re done with it.

He keeps it in a box uwu and he has to upgrade every year because it keeps on getting full.

Even if you’re not drawing him, you ask him to pose for you so you can take references for your other drawings. He’s just so proportionate!!

It makes him so happy every time he sees it!! He nearly catches on fire every time.

The fact that you’re expressing your affections in this special way makes him so soft??

He once tried to draw you in return but he has like zero to none art experience. Even had no experience in his childhood because all he wanted to draw was All Might and Endeavor wouldn’t allow that.

Instead you offer to teach him the basics on how to draw and you two continue bonding that way!! You sit on his lap because that’s the best spot to be close enough to guide him and show him how to draw while you drone on and on about shadows, anatomy, perspective, and he’s just nodding along without a single word going to his brain because he’s just staring at you the entire time.

[“Shouto-chan, did you get that?”

“Yeah...boxes?”]

If you draw him complete pictures he keeps it on his wall, and eventually his dorm room looks like he’s about to string red yarn around it because it’s blanketed with paper all over like he’s uncovering a murder conspiracy.

A/N: The picture that I used for the page breaks is Anselm Feuerbach’s “Peonies” and I actually saw it in real life at the Neue Pinakothek!! It’s one of my favorites and I even got a mousepad of it bc I’m a dork asdfg

The Kirishima and [Name] scene is inspired by this comic by marbitss and I was inspired to write a lot of prose after reading Nicole Krauss’ The History of Love!

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Text

Footprints in the Sand

Part 2: A Proposition

Summary/Author's Note: (Well, I hope you all came back. This thing finally has an official working title. When I posted the prologue I had not decided on one. In case I didn't mention it before, because I figured it went without saying, reader is hella bisexual. Y'all are so sweet and made a girl feel like her current creative outlet isn't utter garbage. This part is exposition, exposition, exposition. I promise it will get better. Enjoy.)

Pairing: Oberyn x Ellaria x Reader Word Count: 4k Warnings: R/18+ as always but like third party scenery warnings? Takes place in a brothel. There's like an small orgy off to the side? Is that a warning?

[Part 1]

You clutched the small book to your chest with one arm as you used your other hand to hold your skirts and go down the stairs at a steady pace. Other ladies of the house nodded their 'good mornings' and you returned them in kind. The spring feast was coming to a close and it would be a relief when the castle was no longer crowded. Such visitors from all over was exciting, but the constant talking and buzzing about was draining on one's soul.

The castle gardens we're usually pretty quiet, albeit large enough that one could go about their own business without much interaction. The fountains trickled quietly while a breeze whispered through the multitude of plants maintained by a large group of ladies and maesters of the house. It was obvious that not all of them were native, but they did their best to keep them flourishing through most of the year. Finding nature within the city walls was like finding a sewing needle in a pile of hay. And what little you did find was being forced to grow there by someone who had dug it up from somewhere else--it didn't have much of a choice.

Sitting down on a stone bench, you watched a few bumble bees bouncing against one another and taking turns landing among the thistles. Their black, fuzzy legs picking up soft specs of yellow pollen before moving onto the next flower. With a deep breath and a smile, you pulled a small piece of charcoal from the leather purse at your waist and put it to the blank book in front of you. You traced a quick outline of the thistles, making sure to add a few bees to your crude illustration, and took note of the color, scent, and relative appearance of the plant in front of you. Although herbalism wasn't a very fascinating avenue of study, it passed the time, and had proved useful at one time or another when it came to simple remedies and fragrant teas. It was better than sitting inside the damp castle walls doing nothing.

You looked up as a couple of women walked by, arm and arm, heads close together in conversation. They didn't pay you any mind, but as they left your vision you caught a bright flash--a glimpse of gold bangles in the sun.

Someone was watching you.

Ellaria Sand stood beside a fountain watching you sketch quietly. She bit her lip as she trailed her fingers through the running water, letting the drops dance down her arm and into the larger pool below. You knew who she was. Everyone did. Well, probably at least. Everyone certainly knew who Prince Oberyn was and he wasn't exactly chaste when it came to his feelings about his paramour. Had he been from King's Landing, such feelings would not have been allowed to be paraded about. Oberyn was a Prince. Ellaria was a bastard. Now that, everyone did know.

Bastard. Prince. Titles were not important to you. A gentle heart, good conversation, loyalty--traits worth more than any title and sadly, hard to come by in a place such as this.

"Lady Sand," you called without looking over your shoulder. "Good morning."

She smiled and walked slowly over to where you were seated. "Were it a good morning, I would still be in bed." She wiped her fingers on her skirts, damp from playing her hand in the fountain. "And I'm not a lady."

"It's just a formality--"

"Formalities are all worthless bullshit. Call me Ellaria."

You nodded, "Very well. Ellaria then. You can call me (y/n), considering I'm not a lady either."

"You are a Lannister, no?" She raised an eyebrow and looked you up and down. "That makes you a lady."

"Distantly related, but close enough to warrant an invitation to their table. Lucky me." You said flatly, balancing the piece of charcoal in the middle of the book so you could look up and meet her gaze.

"Some would not call that luck," Ellaria laughed softly, a jest, but you could tell there was not an insult behind it.

It made you smile. People heard the name Lannister and started grovelling. It was pretentious at best and a ridiculous lie at worst. If you wanted someone's respect it would be because of you, not because of your surname.

"Have you always lived at King's Landing, Lad-- (y/n)?" Ellaria asked, genuinely interested.

"Not my whole life," you answered. "But long enough to know for certain it is not where I want to spend the rest of my days."

Ellaria looked intrigued. She moved and took a seat on the edge of the fountain so she could look at your face. "And where might that be?"

"What?" You asked, surprised by the question.

"Where do you want to spend the rest of your days?" She said, her voice soft and supple.

You thought about it for a moment. No one had ever asked you that. You were honest when you said that King's Landing was not the place you wanted to grow old in. But before she asked, you had never voiced such a strong desire to leave either, much less to where that might be. When in doubt, honesty seemed to always be the most useful answer in pleasant conversation, so that's what you gave her.

"I don't know," you said quietly. "Anywhere but here."

The answer made her smile. She stood, moving over to the thistle patch that you had been studying upon her arrival. She plucked one of the purple flowers and brought it to her nose, breathing in the sweet scent that seemed to entice the garden insects so effectively.

"May I say something without insulting your pride, (y/n)?" She asked, looking back at you and still holding the flower. You nodded and she continued. "For a Lannister, you're quite beautiful."

You laughed, short and sudden. That was the last thing you expected to hear her say. If your beauty was in correlation with your house, then most thought you were quite average. You did not have the pure, white golden locks of Joanna, nor the high cheekbones of someone like Cersei.

"Thank you? I suppose." You said, closing your book and sitting up a little straighter.

"It was meant as a compliment," she reassured you with a wave of her hand. "The beauty of a Lannister is often masked by the coldness of their eyes. Yours however," she leaned forward and tucked the small, purple flower she had been holding behind your ear, smoothing your hair gently. "Are warm. And kind."

The blush that crept up your neck and cheeks could not be stopped. Ellaria was beautiful, anyone with eyes could see that. But not only was she very beautiful, she was now very close. Her coffee colored eyes bore into yours, her body seemed to radiate with a heat that was not common to King's Landing, and as she turned towards you it was suddenly a little harder to breathe. You cleared your throat and put the charcoal piece back in your pouch, starting to gather your sketches, desperate for something to do with your hands. Something that would distract you from the beauty that was before you.

"I--" you started but she cut you off.

"Prince Oberyn would like a word with you." She said, leaning back to create a welcome distance between the two of you.

"Me?" You asked, looking equal parts surprised and suspicious. When she nodded, you changed your question. "Why?"

"Does it matter? He is a Prince." She stood and held out her hand to you with another warm smile. "Come."

Glancing around the garden, you noticed that no one seemed to be looking. Not that it mattered, you may have been a Lannister but you were one that was easily forgotten about. The Martell's were a guest of your family, guests of the king--a word with their prince was innocent enough. You stood, tucking the leather bound book in the belt at your waist before nodding silently and taking her outstretched hand.

---

When Ellaria told you that Oberyn requested your presence, the last place you expected that to be was in a brothel, deep in the heart of the city. The wet, dirty streets were the complete opposite of the castle gardens, and you adjusted the hooded shawl tighter around your shoulders as the two of you walked. Merchants yelled, horses whinnied, and people shoved one another, each intent on their destination trying to avoid the puddles of water in the middle of the allies. At least you hoped it was water.

Ellaria's hand never let go of yours and you couldn't say that you were entirely ungrateful for it. Her brightly colored dress stood out like a sore thumb among the muted grays of the underbelly of the city. People stared at the pair of you, but they also took a step back, which made walking easier. Neither of you said much on the journey, but as she turned the corner of a large set of buildings she looked over her shoulder at you.

"This is it."

She lifted her skirts and walked up the stairs to what looked like an unmarked tavern. The sign was well worn from the elements, but you supposed that this place did most of its business by word of mouth, not advertisement. Once inside you lowered the hood of your shawl, moving your braid to the side and taking in the surroundings. It would have looked like a normal inn had everyone not been naked. Most of the doors were closed but the occasional bare woman, flitted between hallways, carrying jars of wine, platters of food, and other necessities. A pair of them fell into a mound of pillows into the corner of the room and giggled as they took turns kissing each other's neck and breasts while two men watched. Ellaria reached for your hand again and pulled you away from the scene and towards the stairs.

"The Prince is staying here? With you as well?" You asked, watching her with wide eyes.

"Yes," she grinned, giving your hand a squeeze. "Far more interesting than the castle, and boring, shabby inns are overpriced and over crowded. And if you want to know something else," she paused and you nodded for her to continue. "I'd bet they wash the bed linens more here...out if necessity."

"Or burn them entirely and replace them with new." You muttered and she gave a genuine laugh that made you smile.

"Or that, too." She stopped at the top of the stairs and let go of your hand so she could hold the door open for you.

You thanked her and stepped inside. You didn't know what you expected to see inside that room, but it certainly wasn't that. A raised dais in the middle of the room was covered in rich purple and blue silks, pillows, and three very naked women. One lay flat on her back, slightly sinking into the silks as another woman straddled her face. The woman on top rocked her hips back and forth against her lover's mouth, pulling at her own breasts and nipples, head thrown back in ecstasy. Her eyes were closed and the soft noises she made were exquisite. The third woman lay between the knees of the one flat on her back, her mouth pressed against the other's cunt, sucking and licking as if she were eating a pear. The sight made you bite your lip. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but it was not enough to make you look away as pure intrigue clouded your head and pure arousal clouded things much lower.

"Not too timid," Ellaria commented as she looked you in the eyes and gave your cheek and gentle pat. "Good. Timid is boring."

A deep chuckle from the other side of the room drew your attention to an ornate fainting couch and ottoman. The sight in the middle of the room was so exquisite that you completely overlooked Oberyn.

The prince sat on his side with his head propped on his hand. His chest was bare, draped in a gossamer cloth of royal blue with golden suns sewn onto it. He wore loose pants and no shoes, looking like the definition of comfort as Ellaria glided to him and took a seat on the edge of the chair. She leaned over him and he smiled, leaning up on one arm to kiss her deeply and slowly in greeting. Such a display of affection felt more intimate than the women fucking next to you but encouraged by Ellaria's words, you didn't look away.

"Pst!" Oberyn hissed around his lover and snapped his fingers in the direction of the dais. "Out, ladies. Out."

Ellaria smirked as the women slowly pulled themselves apart from one another and crawled out of the pile of fabric and towards the door, not even bothering to get dressed.

"Oh, Oberyn," she said with a tone of mock dispare. "Have you no heart? At least let them finish."

He played his fingers in the ends of her braid as a smile played on his lips. "They can finish themselves off without us. We have a guest." They both turned in unison to look at you and the intensity of it made your heart race.

Ellaria moved to the ottoman so Oberyn could stand and walk slowly towards you. His dark brown eyes moved over your body slowly, starting with the bottom of your skirts, lingering on your waist, breasts, and finally stopping at your face. He reached out and took your hand, bowing slightly at the waist as he raised your knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss.

"(Y/n)," he said, letting it drip from his mouth like he was saying something sweet. "It's a pleasure."

"Your grace," you bent your head and dipped into a small curtsey as he kept a hold of your hand.

"What did I tell you about formalities?" Ellaria said, leaning back on the couch to observe the two of you.

"I'm sorry," you said without thinking, her tone making you feel like a child who misbehaved.

"Don't apologize," Oberyn said, dropping your hand and beginning a slow circle around you. He brought his fingers to his bottom lip as in thought and you felt his eyes trying to practically see through your dress. "Never apologize." He tentatively reached up and started to pull the silk shawl from your shoulders. You released the fabric and had to fight the urge to put your hands over yourself. You were completely clothed, yet you felt more naked than the day you were born. Oberyn handed the shaw behind him to Ellaria without changing the focus of his gaze and she raised it to her face and inhaled deeply. The action made your stomach jolt. Shit.

It took two tries to get passed the lump in your throat, but finally you were able to speak. "Ellaria said you wanted to see me."

"Oh, I've seen you." He said simply and suddenly the air in the room felt thicker. Fuck.

"Speak with me then. She--she said you wanted to speak with me."

"What do you know about me?" Oberyn raised an eyebrow and stopped circling so he could look at you.

"Not much I'm afraid, your grace."

"Formalities." Oberyn barked.

"I'm sorr--"

"Apologizing." Ellaria chastised.

You blinked slowly and closed your mouth. Why did they make you feel as if you had done something wrong? And what was worse, as if you would do anything to make it up to them.

"I know about you," Oberyn continued and started once again on his slow path around you. "Lannister by blood. Distant family relation. You live with your Uncle, who mainly works as a merchant of precious jewels and metals out of Casterly Rock. Stop me if I'm wrong." He said and you shook your head to indicate that he wasn't. "Although the rock is your home, you often come with him to King's Landing to trade and partake in yearly festivals."

"Have you been spying on me?" You asked, unable to stop yourself.

"Spying? No." Oberyn shook his head. "I paid a good amount of coin for this information."

"Why?"

"Curiosity." He said as if that was explanation enough. "Why hasn't your Uncle married you off?"

You shrugged and held up your hands. "Why should he? He doesn't get anything out of it, he would lose the free labor he gets at the shop--it would be a bad business deal to ship me off."

Oberyn nodded but looked as if he was not pleased by the answer. "But what no one seemed to be able to tell me of your parents--"

"Because they're dead." You stopped him before he could continue and both he and Ellaria had the decency to look mildly ashamed.

"I'm sorry, my sweet," Ellaria spoke up and the term of endearment made your throat tighten.

You shook your head, it wasn't their fault. You swallowed the lump in your throat and felt your lip twitch up in a small smile. "I thought you said not to apologize."

The tension broke and Oberyn leaned back his head and let out a soft laugh from his belly. "Quick wit. I like that." He stopped his inspection of you and sat on the ottoman close to Ellaria. "My paramour and I are in King's Landing for another week. We thought it an adequate amount of time for you to mull over our proposition."

"What proposition?" Your heart started hammering beneath your breast.

"Accompanying us back to Dorne at the end of the week." Oberyn said simply and you gaped at him.

You caught yourself, closing your mouth so that you didn't look like a dead fish in front of the fucking Prince of Dorne. It was not possible that he was serious. Was it? After a weighted moment of silence, Ellaria sat up and interjected.

"What my lover means is that King's Landing is boring." She waved her hand as if gesturing to the city as a whole. "The food is boring, the people are boring," she narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice ever so slightly. "The whores are boring."

"And that is saying something." Oberyn agreed and Elleria continued.

"We are strangers, the three of us." Ellaria gestured in a triangular motion. "Give us a week to change that."

"Ellaria, I--" you started but she shook her head.

"You told me yourself back in the garden that you didn't want to grow old in King's Landing. Is that still true?" She raised an eyebrow.

"It is--"

"A conventional life is a boring life. And you do not look like someone who is okay with boring."

"I'm not but--"

She stood and walked towards you, putting a hand on your jaw and looking directly into your eyes. She wanted the truth, all of it, and it was overwhelming.

"Tell me something of worth that would keep you in King's Landing." She said, her grip was light but her words firm.

"If you think the whores are boring, then I'm afraid I will only disappoint you both," you tried to laugh your words away but they felt like ash in your mouth.

"We're not asking you to fuck us--"

"Not yet, anyway," Oberyn mumbled into a glass of wine and Ellaria spared a moment to glare at him.

"Entertain us. Just for the week." You started to speak and she put her finger over your lip. "Conversation, drink, stories--and at the end of the week you may accompany us back to Dorne or you may stay here in your little city, in your little corner of the world and life will continue as planned."

Your mind was racing. You wanted to say something but it was if your mouth forgot how to form words. The silence hung tangible in the air around the three of you and finally Oberyn spoke while thoughtfully turning the goblet in his hand, swirling whatever liquid it contained.

"Despite what this city may think of my paramour and myself, we are not the lust consumed deviants people paint us to be." Oberyn's words were carefully guarded as he finally looked up from the cup and made eye contact with you.

"I never thought that," you said quietly. It was only a half lie--gossip was the favorite pastime in the castle after all.

"One week," Ellaria confirmed, releasing your jaw slowly. "What could it hurt?"

What could it hurt? You couldn't come up with an answer for the life of you. As unprecedented of a proposal as this might have been, it wasn't all together unreasonable. A change of scenery from the castle gardens was a welcome thought. Your Uncle was here on business and as long as you attended the regular meals at the palace and didn't interfere with business, no one really seemed to give a damn what you did daily. You finally nodded wordlessly and Ellaria smiled, warm and genuine.

Oberyn sat up, placing his empty glass on the small end table to his right and rubbed his hands together as if a deal had been made. "Wonderful. We can meet here of course--"

His words trailed off as neither you nor Ellaria turned to listen to him. Both of you continued to stare at one another as she took a careful step forward putting herself in your circle of intimate space. She raised her hand slowly, moving as if she was trying not to spook a rabbit in the woods, and let it land gently on the side of your face. Her thumb touched your lower lip tentatively.

She smelled of citrus and sunlight and you let your eyes flit down to her mouth as she drew you in. You should have pulled away. You knew better. But you had to know. You had to know if she tasted as good as she smelled, if her lips were as sweet as her scent. Remaining still, you let her close the gap and kiss you gently.

Your heart beat so rapidly against your ribs, you worried they would break. You held your breath and felt your lungs begin to ache as the softness of the kiss stole your air and made you feel light and dizzy. She was sweet and kissing her was anything but boring. When you heard yourself let out the softest of moans, your body betraying you involuntarily, you jerked away from her with wide eyes and a shuddering breath.

Oberyn was on the edge of his seat, biting his lip and observing the two of you silently. Oh how you wanted to die right then and there as you felt the heat rise to your face and neck.

"I have to go," you blurted out, unable to decide between the shame you felt and the excitement you wanted to feel. "I--" you shook your head and turned on your heel, flinging open the door and lifting your skirts to hurry down the narrow staircase of the brothel.

Ellaria watched you go, bringing a hand up to brush her own lips as if to savor the memory of kissing you.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you, my love?" Oberyn asked, a grin playing on his face.

Ellaria turned back and walked to him, bringing her leg up to straddle his waist before crushing her lips against his own.

[Next Chapter]

#oberyn martell #oberyn x ellaria #oberyn x reader #Pedro pascal #oberyn x ellaria x reader #Ellaria sand #Game of Thrones #pedro character fic #footprints in the sand #bisexual and lesbianism is not a warning and fuck anyone who says it is #posting this this morning because WHY NOT #HAPPY FRIGGIN MONDAY #time is a paradox anymore we are all living by when fanfic updates

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depths-of-hope-and-despair · 3 years

Text

Burden

“Fay. Fay… My little fairy? Heyyy…” A soft voice rang in the astrologist’s ears, stirring her from her sleep once a finger poked her cheek.

“Mmngh.. mmm?” Fay grumbled, one of her eyes creaking open, still blurry with sleep.

“You fell asleep at your desk again.” Maisie chided, her nose crinkling in distaste. “I’ve told you about these all-nighters, babe. Look, you drooled all over your star map.”

And so she had. Not only had she ruined her sketch of the galaxy, but a postcard from Iyabo was stuck to her face. “Aw, shucks… sorry.” Fay giggled in embarrassment, prying off the damp card. “One of my students asked about how farmers used to use the constellations to keep track of time, and I-“ Her sentence broke midway into a yawn, Maisie’s gaze softened with concern in response.

“You sure you’ll be alright to watch the rugrats this evening?” Maisie asked, reaching down to tuck a strand of hair out of Fay’s face. “I can always reschedule the show…”

“Psh! Poppycock!” Fay shook her head adamantly, a warm smile coming to her face. “Go get ready for your performance, May. I’ve got a whole night of fun planned for me and the kiddos! Lookie, I planned the whole thing out in my notes!” Excitedly, Fay showed off her plans plastered on paper, waving it in front of her partner’s face.

“Uh-huh.” Maisie smiled patiently, looking over the careful plans her wife had for the evening. A trip to the theater, baking cookies, stargazing, even a treasure hunt in the house for if the weather took a turn for the worst. “You won’t fall asleep under the stars in the backyard again, will ya? You’d all get colds, y’know? You’re the biggest baby when you get sick, starlight.” She teased.

“What’s that? You’re giving us a curfew? I’d expect something different from the girl who snuck me out to go roller skating every Friday night when we were kids.” Fay giggled, returning the favor in full. “You’re losing your rebellious streak, May.”

“Hmph!” Maisie huffed momentarily, yet her eyes shined with a playful light. A smile tugged back onto her lips as she moved forward. “Not my fault your parents locked you away in a tower, honey. You should be grateful, not just anyone would climb up to rescue you.” Her arms wrapped around Fay’s waist, causing her to giggle.

“Oh pardon me. What could I possibly do to return the favor, my hero?” Fay asked coyly while sticking her tongue out, setting her hands on her wife’s shoulders.

“Keep me around for a while?” Maisie offered, beaming down at the shorter girl, Fay wondered how the sight could still make her heart do a flip to this day. The astrologist nodded with a flushed face, as the pair leaned in to kiss-

“Mommy! Maaaa!!!” A voice whines from the hallway. “She is doing it again!”

“Speaking of the devil…” Fay grumbled, gently pushing away and making a hand motion for Maisie to exit. “Run while you still can, I’ll handle them.”

Maisie laughed wholeheartedly, and scurried away after giving Fay a thankful smile. The silence broke again when a short girl in purple entered the scene, carrying an even tinier baby in her arms. “Ma! Help!” She whined, offering the toddler to Fay. “Darcy won’t stop pulling my hair!!”

Fay smiled in amusement, taking the baby in her arms and cradling it gently. “Meda, you know she’s just a baby, she hardly knows left from right.” The child, Darcy, proved Fay’s point by pulling at Fay’s own ruby locks a moment later.

Andromeda, the older of the two kids, folded her arms in disapproval, pouting. “Maybe we should start teaching how to behave then! Mortie doesn’t even do that! And she’s a dog!!”

“Dogs are smarter than babies, don’t you know?” Fay used her free arm to boop her daughter on the nose, only earning a bigger pout. The astrologist laughed, turning to walk towards the kitchen. “Aw, don’t be sad, Meda. How about I watch Darcy and you show me how good you are at frosting cookies?” She offered, holding up a canister of icing and gesturing to the food colorings they had available.

The purple girl lit up and dashed forward with enthusiasm, the astrologist smirked in victory.

-------

Fay was careful to pull out the steaming cookies from the oven with her good mitten. The others were worn down with age, from the years of only Fay and Maisie cooking together. Back then, a little stove burn meant little to nothing but now with her whole world helping her cook, it felt like life or death.

“Ma! Look! I made this one look like a monarchy!” Andromeda, the oldest squeaked, pointing at the cookie she was currently frosting.

Fay held back a snort, checking out the butterfly shaped cookie with black and orange frosting smothered all over. “The most beautiful monarch in all the land, Meda. Wanna save this one so Mommy can see it?” She asked.

The little one’s eyes sparkled at the recommendation. “Yeah, yeah! Mommy will like it and then I can show her how good I am at baking!”

“Oh honey, she already knows you’re a wizard in the kitchen. Who knows, someday you could be a professional!” Fay commented, storing the insect shaped cookie in a safe place to dry.

“… Really? You think I could..?” Fay was taken aback by the softness of her child’s voice, turning to see Andromeda looking at the ground shyly. “Everyone at school says I’m too clumsy, Ma. Nobody would want my cookies..”

The astrologist softened, walking over and crouching down to her child’s height. A hand softly carcasses Andromeda’s shoulder, before sliding to her chin and forcing her gaze back up. “Hey. Nobody starts off as a master. Not even me and Mommy did. We worked hard to be good at the thing we love because… well, we love it! And there’s no reason you can’t do the same, Meda.”

The purple child looked back, lip quivering with shining eyes. A hopeful look.

“Annnd, you’re just in luck! I happen to know an ultimate baker who I’m sure would love an apprentice.” Fay cooed, pinching the little one’s cheek gently.

That did the trick. The hope filled words and the promise to back it up, was all it took for Andromeda to lunge forward and hug her mom tightly. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, Ma! I’m gonna be the greatest there ever was!”

Fay laughed, hugging her back tenfold. “With the stars on your side, you can do anything, kiddo.”

Their moment was interrupted by icing being flicked onto the counter as they turned around. Darcy, the infant, found her way into the icing jar, her face and arms painted with the blue sugary substance.

“Can the stars stop Darcy from making messes too?” Andromeda asked, completely deadpan.

“Even the stars aren’t that powerful, sweetie.”

Fay grabbed wash clothes and cleaned up her youngest, looking down at the little one’s joyous face, who cooed and bounced in place. She couldn’t help herself from scooping Darcy up and planting kisses across her face as the baby giggled and squealed.

Andromeda joined in, tackling them both onto the couch, and forming a big cuddle pile for the family. Laughter filled the air, and Fay never felt more content than she did right now. This was a good life, the one she always prayed for.

The kids fell asleep in the middle of their chosen film, leaving Fay plenty of time to get up and clean the kitchen. Looking over the job well done, Fay turned and startled at someone standing right behind her.

“It could’ve been nice, huh?”

Maisie, hair hanging low and disheveled, outfit torn and ripped in many places, and worst of all, her eyes were lifeless and cold. Her appearance shook Fay to her core, feeling a knot in her stomach. “May…? Wh-What happened? Are you okay?” Fay reached out to take Maisie’s hand in her own.

Maisie pulled her arm away like lightning, staring back at Fay, voice as empty as her expression. “I think it would’ve been beautiful. But.. you had to mess it up. Right, Faith?”

“What are you talking about-“ The astrologist began, eyes wide when a hissing noise hit her ears. Looking over to where Andromeda and Darcy lay sleeping, she could see their forms fading away into dust, fluttering through the wind.

“N-No, wait-!” Fay pleaded, lunging forward to try and grab both of the kids, but all she felt was ashes shifting through her palms. The last image in her mind, of their peaceful expressions while unconscious.

“Maisie… what did you do? Why are they g-?” She began, unable to get off of her knees or tear her eyes away from the now empty sofa.

“What did I do? Aw… Starlight…” Fay could hear Maisie breathlessly giggle, stepping forward from behind, Fay could feel her combing her hands through her ruby locks. “What have you done? That’s the real question. Is your life.. better without me in it? Do you miss me?”

Fay was frozen in time, struggling to process Maisie’s words. But almost on instinct, Fay reached out and clung to Maisie’s arms. She couldn’t lose her too. “Everyday. A-All the time. I think about you always, M-May. I love y-you. Why do you think I-I wouldn’t..?”

Maisie hummed, eyes staring down at her childhood friend with no sympathy for the pain in her eyes. “Nobody kills the people they love, silly. If you love me so much, why’d you let me die?”

Fay felt her throat clench up, grip on Maisie weakening, feeling unfit to even hold onto someone who meant so much to her. One question. That was all it took for her to snivel like a child pleading to escape punishment. “I….” She stalled, gritting her teeth, tears clouding her vision. “I’m so sorry…”

Maisie smiled, eyes narrowed into slits. The grin wasn’t genuine, more like one a teacher gives a student whom asked a particularly stupid question. Her violet pupils gleamed in the creeping darkness of the room, flashing with a tint of red. “You will be.”

Fay gasped as she could suddenly feel her body being grabbed. Looking downward, the astrologist could see…. nothingness. A black abyss full of long arms, all reaching out and hooking onto Fay. The long claws of the hands dug into her body, but she felt no pain. Without any agony to focus on, all Fay could do was stare up at Maisie. The dancer smiled back, her only reaction being a slight head tilt.

Even when the world faded into darkness once again, the last image Fay could see was Maisie smiling at her downfall.

What have you done?

“Fay!!”

The astrologist jolted awake, heart pounding in her chest and looking left and right for Maisie. But it was no use, everything was dark again. Was she sucked into the hole? Would she never get out? Is this what she deserves..?

Fay gasped at the feeling of tiny hands grabbing her arm, and the sensation of something fuzzy nuzzling against her. Mortie. She was trying to comfort her master. While the hands belonged to…

“Hey! Hey!!” Putri squeaked like an indignant chicken, pulling on Fay’s arm to get herself noticed. “What’s the matter with you?? You woke up screaming! You fool, you’ll wake my goddess if you’re too loud, y’know?”

Fay was slowly coming back to reality, and it smacked her square in the face with a brick. The sudden pitfall of despair welled up in her chest, tears spring onto her lashes. She couldn’t even open her mouth to speak.

This was her reality. She didn’t have a family. None of it was real. It never would be.

“W-What’s wrong…? Why are you-?” Putri began, the worry in her voice clear, but it came too little too late. Fay rolled over in her bed, curling into herself and despairing. The dancer cringed uncomfortably, not enjoying the sound of Fay’s pain. “H-Hey, calm down. It’s… it’s okay.”

Mortie nudged her way between Fay’s arms to be held for comfort, while Putri hopped up on the bed and began awkwardly patting the astrologist’s arm. “Don’t cry… it was just a dream. It’s over now…” She attempted to sooth her friend.

But, Putri wasn’t aware that was the problem. It was just a dream.

#💥 live action 💥#💖 fay speaks 🌟#🌸 putri speaks 🔥#tw: nightmares #(( torture fay night ❤️ ))

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cognitivefunk · 4 years

Text

A Summer Treat

So I saw the summer smut challenge and wanted to join, so I wrote this oneshot this evening, and I hope it’s ok.

Title: A Summer Treat Prompt: Popsicle Licking Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Pairing: Isaac Newton x Reader (I didn’t get into the dirty details with this one so it’s gender non-specific) Warnings/Tags: Blood (vampire bite), mild sexual content Rating: Still 18+ to be safe Word Count: 1,492 #summer of smut & #summer of smut writing challenge

Isaac eyed you with suspicion, setting the dry ice on the table along with the tongue depressors as you had asked. He seemed further confused as you brought a container of juice and a cup of hot water along for your little experiment. “You have so much faith in me!” you teased, your voice thick with sarcasm. “Trust me, ok? You’re a man of science, you’ll see!”

He scoffed at that last statement, but stayed silent, lost in thought as he examined the items on the table the both of you had set up in his room. He seemed to be piecing together the information.

In reality the popsicle had yet to be invented in this time period, but you had recalled a fun way to make them using dry ice from a science class you took years ago. The only downside was you had to be very careful not to get burned by the extremely cold substance. You handed Isaac the gloves and his expression softened, curiosity shining brightly in his eyes.

“I’ll let you carve the hole,” you explained, taking a sketch of a generic popsicle and showing it to the eager vampire. “Rudimentary, don’t you think?” he responded, with his own brand of sarcasm. It made you giggle, and the sound was rewarded with a small smirk to the corner of his lips. And oh how he loved the sound of your voice.

You took one of the sanitized wooden tongue depressors and readied it for when Isaac dumped the dry ice onto the table, carving a cylindrical hole into the smoking substance. You took the juice and poured it in carefully; laying the wooden stick inside and watched the crystals of ice rapidly form around the liquid. “Amazing!” the man cheered with a rather childlike wonder and you were soon able to lift the popsicle from the dry ice, dipping it into the hot water to warm it.

“It’s way too cold to eat unless you dip it in hot water first. The dry ice will burn your tongue,” you explained, lifting the treat from the water. It was dark red, flavored with cherry juice, and shining from the water you had bathed it in. “Do you want to make another one?”

“Yes, quite…I think we should make two. One for each of us,” a blush crept across his cheeks upon the thought of sharing the treat together. It seemed inappropriate to ask you to eat from the same stick, so he dug a second hole in the dry ice and poured the juice himself this time. It was just as fascinating the second time around, and he mimicked the same action as you had shown him before, bathing it in hot water before attempting to take a sample.

“Isn’t it cool?” you asked, not taking into consideration that the slang would most likely be taken literally.

“Ah, yes. It is quite cold actually,” he responded, examining the frozen treat in the light. It was a particularly warm afternoon, so the cold treat was a tempting and delightful concept. You couldn’t help but giggle again at the misunderstanding, earning a small, confused, smile from the man next to you. Had you been any of the other residents he would have scowled at you, but he couldn’t bring himself to frown at that moment.

As he raised his gaze toward you, his eyes locked onto your pink tongue, darting out to taste the popsicle. He swallowed, throat suddenly feeling quite parched. He brought the treat to his own mouth, absentmindedly, and bit into the cold surface, recoiling slightly at the temperature. The sweetness of the cherries, he found delicious however.

Though, it wasn’t as delicious as the way your lips wrapped around the tip, painting them red as the juice melted on them, dripping down the side of the popsicle only to be licked up by your waiting tongue. He hadn’t realized how hard he was holding the wooden handle of his treat until he heard a snap. The wood splintered in his hand and he was brought back to reality, averting his gaze with a blush that rivalled the redness of the cherries.

“Isaac? Oh my god, are you ok? You’re not hurt are you?” you asked, leaning forward to look at his hand. You thought the tongue depressors would be sturdy enough, but he did have superhuman strength. The moment you leaned closer to him, however, you couldn’t help but notice the prominent bulge straining against his pants.

“Oh,” it was all you could say. Your mind short circuited, before a devious idea sprung into your pretty little head. You brought the treat back to your lips and sucking on the tip, pretending not to have noticed his straining erection. “The wood must be brittle because of the dry ice; I’ll have to be careful.”

Isaac was focused on the cold flavored ice that had gathered on his hand, licking off what he could before setting the rest on the table to melt. Had he put two and two together with the shape of the popsicle itself he wouldn’t have agreed to that particular silhouette. He stole another glance, your slurping noises had peaked his curiosity, and he clutched his hands against his thighs when he saw you.

You were slowly pulling the phallic treat in as far as you could manage, and then hallowing your cheeks around it as you pulled it back. Over, and over again. His jaw hung open and his fangs emerged at full force. “By god…” he groaned. His eyes glossed over, and his body started to move of its own accord.

You were fully aware the effect you were having on him, and you released the treat with a loud pop, running your tongue along the underside. He whined loudly, swatting the popsicle out of your hand and onto the floor, pushing you down beside it. “We’ll clean that up later,” he growled, pressing himself against your inner thigh for emphasis.

You let out a squeak of surprise, not anticipating him to get worked up quite as fast as he did, but you weren’t complaining. “You dirty little vixen, you. You must know the things you do to me…” his voice was strained as well, his desperation leaking through as his arms shook on either side of your face. “You do know, don’t you?”

He searched your face, while his own was flushed and quite obviously aroused. You stuck out your tongue in a mock pout from the way he had smacked your treat onto the floor, after all the trouble you both had gone through to make it. Before you could retract it for your retort, he leaned in for the kill, taking your tongue between his teeth and sucking on the slick organ. He swooned, hips rutting against your clothed core this time, the heat flowing through you like fire.

He pulled back to allow you both room to breathe, and gave a bashful smirk. “You’re um… sweet,” he managed his best attempt at sounding suave in this situation. His awkwardness had a special charm to it, and it made your heart race nonetheless. “You too,” you respond, with an emphasized breathy tone.

You brushed your hair to the side, arching your neck toward the man. “I bet you could taste something even sweeter,” you offered, understanding the pain he had to be in. His trembling arms were the main giveaway at his power struggle against the beast inside of him. “Are you sure?” he asked, afraid that you would change your mind, but willing to stop before it was too late.

“Yes, Isaac. Please, I’m yours for the taking—“ you had barely finished your sentence when you felt his teeth sink into your exposed neck. He groaned into the bite, and his hips rutted again, unable to stop himself as he drank from you. The first prick woke your body with a mild shock due to the brief pain, though it was followed by immeasurable pleasure. You almost felt like you were floating, your veins hot with desire.

“Aah, Isaac,” you breathed his name, and he let out a whining growl against you. He released your neck, licking the blood from his lips and teeth. You couldn’t be sure if the red stains were from the cherry or from your blood. “Please, do let me know if you want me to stop. I’m holding back as best as I can, but I don’t know how much longer I can last now that you’ve allowed me to taste from you…”

You reached down between your bodies and stroked him through his pants, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. “I don’t want you to stop Isaac.” He pressed his hips into your hand, hissing at the contact. “Right then, just don’t regret it in the morning.”

Perhaps he didn’t mind the shape of the popsicle after all.

#usagiwrites #ikemen vampire #summer of smut #summer of smut writing challenge #ikevamp isaac #isaac x reader #oneshot #suggestive content

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unkemptgardens · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER FOUR

The following morning Tesla was awoken by the timer kicking the lights on in her face. She squinted against the purple. The plants all had fully-formed buds on them. She shot out of bed to investigate.

Completely frosted. A mix of white and amber trichomes, fully covered, like a cupcake. The buds were then layered with a thick coat of orange hairs. The buds themselves were dense and gigantic, taking up the majority of each stalk's length. Tesla rushed to find Daisy.

A few hours later the bud was harvested and spread out in a mesh hanger to cure. Harvesting had been promising. They had went through a few pairs of scissors because the trichomes kept gumming up the blades. Each plant was different. Daisy had loved picking out the different terpenes with her nose. She inhaled the bud she was holding. “Beta-caryophyllene, limonene...a little humulene?”

“I think that's the Girl Scout Cookies. It smells like my last bag. Only a million times better.” Tesla had never seen weed like this in her life. She couldn't believe it. Daisy was the real deal. She even did magic to speed up the curing process – they were hoping the faint grass smell would be gone by tomorrow.

It was Sunday so the shop was closed. Daisy didn't feel like working on the website on her day off so they hung out and relaxed instead. Daisy did another tarot reading for Tesla which turned out to be hopeful and encouraging. Tesla then tried her hand at doing one for Daisy, but the messages were conflicting. Tesla helped Daisy repot some of her plants and even ate some of her peanut-butter tofu stir-fry (worth eating). They checked on the weed.

Tesla smelled a perfect nugget. “It smells ready. Shall we try it out?”

“Me?”

“We'll compare notes.”

Daisy didn't say no and didn't kick Tesla out when she started breaking a bud up. She sat down at the table where Tesla finished loading a bowl into a rainbow pipe that had a large chip on the side.

“Okay, I'm gonna need you to corner this. You don't want to get too high. Just burn a small bit and then stop. Don't get brave,” instructed Tesla.

Daisy took the pipe. She did as she was told, nailed it, and then handed the pipe back. She waited. “I don't think I feel anything.”

“Nothing?”

“Wait, no.”

“........”

“Wait, no,” Daisy repeated and then she burst out laughing.

Tesla eagerly took a puff. Her body instantly melted and suddenly she had a big, goofy grin.

“How do you feel now?” she asked Daisy.

“Like I wanna go on a walk.”

“Where?”

“The backyard?”

“You don't have a backyard.”

“Damn.”

They settled on the park. Daisy was having the time of her life looking at all the different trees and was completely incapable of playing it cool in public. Tesla had little success hushing her.

“LOOK AT THE WEEPING WILLOW, TESLA!” She did this with each new tree. It was a park full of trees.

Somewhere between an oak and an elm Tesla was hit with a full-blown munchies attack. She needed food, and she needed it now. “Daisy. Daisy we have to leave.”

“Is that person over there with the binoculars sketching you out too?”

“They're bird watching.”

“Oh.”

“No, I've got the munchies. Let's go get food.”

They couldn't find Tesla's jeep. It took them a quarter hour to realize they were on the wrong side of the park. Then they got lost on the drive back to the shop. Finally they made it back. Tesla realized that she had completely forgotten to stop and get munchies and had to settle for Daisy's weird pantry. They gorged themselves on spicy dried fruit, granola yogurt bites, dark chocolate, baby carrots and humus, and kelp chips.

“This might be the weed talking, but these kelp chips are really hitting the spot,” said Tesla, slouched on the couch, covered in crumbs.

Daisy looked out the window. “It's already dark! How long has it been?”

Tesla checked her phone and sat up. “Wow. Hours. Usually you don't feel it for this long unless you, like, eat edibles or something.”

“Well I think I'm getting sleepy. I'm going to go to bed.”

“Me too.”

The next morning they were both still high. “Okay, this is weird,” said Tesla, accidentally buttering her phone instead of her toast. “We shouldn't still be high.”

“....was it all of the magic?”

“Probably, Daisy. I have a confession to make. I was doing magic every night too! You kept going on and on about intention magic, I figured it wouldn't hurt to talk to some plants. They're honestly a good audience.”

“Tesla! So we're too high?”

“I mean, I am, and I can only imagine how you feel, never having smoked before.”

“I just thought this was what it was like!” All of Daisy's clothes were on inside-out.

“Just give it a little bit.”

It did eventually wear off, much to Daisy's relief. She kept losing things. On one occasion, after a half-hour of searching for her keys, Witchcat brought them to her, rabbit's foot in mouth, and released them at her feet with an exasperated sigh. On another occasion, while cooking, she had looked all over the kitchen for her spoon only to realize she had been holding it the entire time.

“A day and a half!” said Tesla excitedly. “This weed is magic.”

“I don't know, you don't think it's too strong? I forgot the word 'door.'”

Tesla waved it off. “It's fine. I'll start selling tomorrow.”

And away she went! The next morning Tesla's very first stop was the library. She marched right up to the librarian's desk. “Meet me in the occult section.” Five minutes later they were face to face with Tesla's backpack between them. “It's magic.”

Charles looked up from where he was inspecting a fat purple nugget. “Yes, but what do you mean?”

“We grew it with magic! Daisy did her green witch thing and I talked to them a lot!”

“Magnificent. I'll take a quarter.”

Then Tesla went to the local college campus where she had pretty good luck. Finally, she found herself inside of The Third Eye. She did feel a little guilty, but then Jack spotted her and came over with a wave.

“Tesla! Right?”

“Haha. Yeah. Haha.”

“You didn't bring your friend, did you?”

“Don't worry, I think she hates you just as much as you hate her.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, hey, I actually came in today because I just grew some just absolute dank. I'll smoke a bowl with you and you can decide if you want some.”

They went to a back room, where there was already a bong out on the coffee table. It was surrounded by loveseats in a circular fashion. She picked the one in the middle, small and cushioney.

Tesla's backpack reeked. She pulled out the bags. “Look at this madness.”

Jack was thoroughly impressed. “Okay, I want some.”

“Just wait! Bong?”

“You bet.”

Tesla loaded her up and offered him the green hit, which he took in a practiced manner. The effect was immediate. It was an indica, and he grew very still and soft, eyes unfocused. “That tasted exactly like berries,” he said finally.

Tesla threw her arms up in a touchdown. “It’s the best!” She took the bong for herself. She hesitated a moment, remembering how completely baked she was last time. Had she been too high? Impossible. She took a big rip. The lights got brighter, the colors more vivid. Suddenly she heard every single lyric coming from the small laptop in the corner, which she hadn’t noticed before. Then she forgot where she was.

“I think this is the highest I’ve ever been,” she heard. She looked over at Jack staring at his outstretched hands and remembered. Then she felt ridiculous and giggled at herself for a bit. “Do you want some?” she asked. She sold him an eighth. It was hard for him to count out the money but they managed. They both sunk further and further into the couch, letting the music play. It was wonderful.

“What is this?”

“I don’t remember.”

They talked a little. “What’s the deal with your friend?”

“Daisy. Get this: she owns an occult shop. On the other side of town. Can you believe it?”

“Yeah I think I’ve heard of it. Six Roads?”

“Five Roads.”

“How’d she get that name?”

“Said it came to her in a dream.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah, she’s just as weird as you, don’t hate her. I know she was a lot when she was in here, but she really isn’t that bad. She just kind of lost it when she found out about your shop.”

“She didn’t know about it?”

“I don’t think she gets out much.”

They stared dreamily off into space for a bit. “You think I’m weird?” asked Jack after a minute.

“A little.”

“Why?”

Tesla laughed. “I’m not into all this.” She gestured around her at the room in general, hung with tapestries and filled with candles and incense smoke. “I think it’s cute though.”

“You bought enchanted lube!”

“I mean, I couldn’t not buy the enchanted lube.”

“Do you like it? I enchanted it myself.”

“How do you enchant lube?”

Jack grinned. “Trade secret. Now that I know you’re friends with the competition.”

“It better not be weird.”

“It’s not. It’s very normal.”

“Enchanting lube?”

“Yes.”

Tesla’s phone vibrated. It was Daisy, wondering if she wanted dinner. Tesla smiled at the thoughtfulness. “Well, I better go. It was nice talking to you again.” They said goodbye and Tesla left in a blissful haze. She couldn’t get her jeep open. It took awhile for her to realize she was pressing the lock button. But the ride home was fairly uneventful and soon she was in Daisy’s tiny, delicious-smelling kitchen, dumping her cash from that day onto the table.

“Are you kidding me?” squealed Daisy. “This is enough for rent!”

Tesla rolled up her sleeves and started flexing and kissing her muscles.

Daisy squinted. “You’re super-stoned again!” she accused.

Tesla laughed. “No I’m not!”

Daisy crossed her arms. “If I have twelve apples and I take away five and add seventeen apples, how many apples do I have?”

“What, are you dealing apples? Another day at the ol’ apple factory?”

“See! You couldn’t figure it out if you tried!”

“Daisy, sometimes the answer comes from within.” Daisy rolled her eyes and set a plate of steaming vegetables down in front of Tesla, who glady dug in. She had eaten more green stuff since living with Daisy than she had in the past six months.

“Well I’m not smoking the stuff anytime soon again. It was fun and everything, but that is just too much for me,” said Daisy.

They discussed what they still had left to do for the website, and how the new source of income could benefit the shop. Tesla was too super-stoned to be helpful. “Let’s get one of those crazy, inflated floppy men out front!”

They talked about their day.

“Don’t be mad, but I sold weed to the guy at The Third Eye.”

“Tesla! He’s the competition! Don’t associate with him!”

“I said don’t be mad. His money’s just as good as anyone else’s.” Tesla didn’t mention his soulful eyes or pretty smile. Or that he only bought an eighth. “Well, how was the shop today? Any new customers?”

Daisy sighed. “Not yet.”

The next few days flew by. The shop, as always, was slow, but gave Daisy plenty of time to work on the website, which they got up and running. Daisy reorganized and looked at adding new inventory. She also started considering taking ads out in the local newspaper or perhaps having a commercial run on the radio. She had the funds now. Tesla, who had taken to wearing sunglasses inside and smoking cigars, brought in a steady stream of cash everyday from selling. Tesla noticed her repeat customers were all still super-stoned, but that they just wanted different strains of her “magic weed.” Each time, they went on and on about how good it was. She could recognize her customers, many of them college students, throughout town from a mile away. Many of them were conspicuous in some manner. For example, one girl looked like she had accidentally slathered toothpaste all over her face instead of moisturizer. Tesla didn’t have the heart to tell her. She had come down from her own magic high and had opted to take a break from the World’s Best Bud. She didn’t see it as a problem, however, until things started hitting close to home.

Tesla recognized that some of her campus customers worked at Arby’s, which, naturally, she frequented. It started out small. No Arby’s sauce in the bag. Barely noticeable, normal even. Then, no curly fries. No curly fries! How could they? Soon, the entire order was missing. It was just a paper bag with one measly napkin in it.

Tesla went inside. “Who’s in charge here?” she asked at the counter. The three employees, all super-stoned, all looked at each other blankly, as though they had forgotten.

Tesla held up the paper bag. “You forgot my entire order!” The employee at the register, Kyle, who had bought an eighth, looked into the bag and broke into a lopsided grin.

“Whoa,” he said.

Tesla waited. “Well?”

“What did you order again?”

Ten minutes later, Tesla left with extra fries, dessert, and two extra sandwiches. She was a little worried though. Would things be like this forever? She noticed things amiss on the way home too. Everyone was driving with a blinker light on. At a four-way, no one knew who was supposed to go and then everyone tried to go all at once. It might’ve caused an accident but everyone was driving too slowly. “Does this whole town smoke weed?” cried Tesla in frustration.

Shortly at Daisy’s, Tesla brought it up. “We have to do something!”

“Just stop selling it! It’ll wear off eventually.”

“Will it? Samantha only bought a gram and today I saw her give her entire order at Arby’s to the sign without the speaker in it.”

Daisy’s expression brightened and she snapped her fingers. “I know! We can go visit Charles and see how he feels!”

#the fools #writeblr #witchcraft #weed #chapter fourrrrr i did it

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whatarubberchicken · 5 years

Text

Play Me a Tune (Make Me Smile)

Because @galahadwilder and his prompts are bad influences... (probably not exactly what you were thinking, but it’s a start...)

Play Me a Tune (Make Me Smile)

“I love my job; I’m living the dream,” Marinette recited to herself. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. Everything hurt from gritting her teeth through that last meeting. Not only had it been a long night, but their current client was turning out to be impossible!

She just needed a breath of fresh air. She was going to eat her bagel, then go back in her office and completely blow this project out of the water! Yes!

She rounded a corner and stopped short.

Great. More musicians. Exactly what she DIDN’T want right now.

Two boys to be exact: a blond with a keyboard and the other on guitar who obviously dyed his hair blue on a regular basis. She was just about to walk the other way….

Except these two were everything her client was not: bright and happy as they sang together, instead of dark and brooding like XY as he tried to cultivate his emo phase. They were also kinda cute. (No offense to XY, she knew a lot of people liked his look, but it just wasn’t for her.) And (full offense to XY) actually talented in music. Their instruments and voices blended together perfectly.

And it made her feel things.

In fact, it made her blush deeply when they grinned at each other and kissed mid-song.

Marinette quickly finished her bagel and fled back to the safety of her office.

Get it together, girl! she scolded herself. You’ve seen people kiss before!

But… none of them had made her want to stand up and cheer for the couple before. Those two boys were obviously in love.

Her afternoon was spent sketching new designs in greens, yellows, and blues. She scowled when she realized they all had little hearts in them somehow.

………..

The next day was just as bad; meetings ran late, clients had to be rescheduled, “Where’s the mock-up, Dupain-Cheng?” “You said you needed it next week!” “That was then, we need it now!”

Luckily, she’d already been half-done with it anyway, but it still hadn’t been easy to whip the rest of it up in half a morning when she was supposed to have a whole week…. She sighed, staring down at her muffin in disgust. She missed Papa’s croissants. Maybe she should go visit?

No. No, she couldn’t go running back to them now! She’d never leave!

Before she’d realized what’d happened, her feet had carried her back to that same street corner. And, surprise, surprise, the two musicians were there, entertaining the crowd by racing through a rendition of some pop song as fast as they could.

Marinette snorted in laughter as the crowd cheered at their big finish. Not just young, beautiful, and obviously in love, these two were playful and fun too!

She wished she had time to meet them.

…………….

The third day was cold and wet, and as dark as Marinette’s mood.

Rejected.

Her designs had been rejected.

After all that hard work, all the revisions that had been fully-approved and accepted, the client had completely done a 180.

“These are too whimsical and colorful!” XY had complained (even though he’d been the one to commission a brightly-colored suit from them in the first place). “What?! Do you think I don’t take my music seriously or something?”

You shouldn’t, she’d wanted to snark back. You’re just a synthesizer with a bad haircut.

Luckily, her company was well-established enough that were still going to be paid for their hours, but it still smarted that someone thought she wasn’t good enough.

She sighed. Taking a walk around the area to clear her mind was just what she needed. She’d get over it easily enough; she just needed to recover from that initial sting.

She wasn’t even surprised when her feet automatically carried her back to where the two boys were playing. She WAS surprised that they weren’t playing around and laughing like the past two times she’d seen them. Instead, they were sitting underneath an awning, keeping their instruments out of the light drizzle, and playing softly to each other.

Still, however soft and slow, it was a good melody, and Marinette felt herself drawn closer, in order to hear them better. To her chagrin, however, the blue-haired boy noticed her.

“Well, look at what we have here, Adrien,” he said cheerfully. “A princess in the rain!”

“That’ll never do,” the blond agreed, standing up and opening an umbrella with a flourish. “Would you like an umbrella, my lady?” he asked, giving her a courtly bow.

“Oh! Uh, no, that’s fine,” Marinette stammered, blushing. “You—you’re going to need them later for your instruments.”

“Actually, our cases are waterproof,” the blue-haired boy pointed out, patting the hard case beside him. “And Adrien here likes to cuddle with me under one umbrella anyway.” He winked at his boyfriend.

“I am but a simple man with simple tastes,” Adrien stated dramatically. He turned back to Marinette. “And, right now, I’d really like to see a princess’s smile,” he added, much more gently.

She was sure her face was on fire as she took the umbrella and tried hard to give the boys a strained smile. Judging from the look on the blond’s face, he wasn’t impressed.

“S-sorry,” she finally said. “It’s… been kind of a bad day so far.”

Adrien’s eyes lit up. “A mission!” he cried, darting back over to his keyboard. “The Quest to Make the Princess Smile!”

With that, he started up a jaunty little tune, the other boy following him immediately on the guitar. It was carefree, and upbeat, and ordinarily, Marinette would’ve loved it. Today, though, she just gave them a small smile, and dug into her wallet to throw them a tip.

“Thanks, guys,” she said, tossing them her biggest bill. It was just about time to go back and face her failures at the office—

“Luka,” she heard Adrien whine. “The princess is trying to pay us, even though we didn’t make her smile!”

Oh my God, he was so cute! He actually sounded heartbroken that he couldn’t cheer her up!

“Hmm,” Luka said thoughtfully. “She said she had a bad day, babe. We know how that can be, right?” The blond hummed in agreement, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder as Luka strummed a quiet, mournful tune. Absently, the blond followed him on the piano.

Marinette felt her shoulders relax at the gentle melody. Soft, sad, hopeful—it kinda sounded like rain, actually. The tension in her jaw lessened as well and she sighed in relief.

Yes. This was what she’d been needing. The two boys continued for a couple of minutes before Luka stopped and smiled at her knowingly.

“Better?”

“It was. Thank you,” Marinette said honestly. She held out their umbrella. “But I still don’t need this. I’m just going back inside there,” she said, gesturing to her building. Neither of them made any move to take it back, though, (Adrien was actually pouting at her again and he was seriously, so cute) so Marinette made to put it by the hat they had out for tips (a derby hat. What a strange choice!).

“Hey!” Adrien exclaimed, standing back up and stomping over to her. “Are you trying to insult my chivalry?!”

“No,” Marinette said, startled.

“Adrien…,” Luka said warningly, chuckling a little bit. “Sorry about him. He likes to think he’s some sort of white knight or something.”

“Uh, hello? The Black Knight is infinitely cooler,” Adrien argued, hands on his hips as he argued with his boyfriend. “And besides, a real knight would insist on walking his lady home—which I won’t!” he quickly added, noticing Marinette took a step back, “because in this day and age that’s considered creepy—but I can insist you take the umbrella, my lady.” He gave her another bow.

Marinette felt a little laugh escape her. He was just so over-the-top!

“There, good sir, you’ve made me laugh,” she said, dipping into a tiny curtsy. “You mission has been accomplished. Well done.”

Adrien’s eyes brightened and he fist-pumped the air. He and Marinette both laughed when Luka played a quick Final Fantasy victory fanfare.

“Thank you. Both of you,” Marinette said warmly, feeling better than she had in days. She stepped closer to Adrien and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “There. A token of my thanks.” Then, before she could lose her nerve, she walked over to Luka and gave him a kiss on the cheek too.

He beamed at her. “Best tip all day.”

Giggling, she waved goodbye and headed back to work, already planning her schedule for tomorrow so she could come back here for lunch.

…

Luka watched her go, seriously considering going after her to beg for her phone number. He glanced at his boyfriend, still standing in the middle of the sidewalk with a dazed expression on his face, his hand touching the cheek she’d kissed.

He chuckled. Adrien had had a crush on her since they’d noticed her a couple of days ago. His boyfriend was so gone.

Mischievously, Luka fingered out a quick, “Another One Bites the Dust!”

That seemed to snap Adrien out of it, and he whirled on his boyfriend, blushing deeply.

“Sh-shut up!”

Luka just laughed. He couldn’t wait to see her again.

#lukadrien #Lukadrienette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #luka couffaine #dang these prompts that inspire so easily

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stardancerluv · 4 years

Text

Creative Fervor

New Year, Truly New Beginnings

Part 1

Summary: You are dating the king of Gotham, what does that mean for you since you are a famous furniture designed? Will it last?

Roman Sionis x Reader

Warning: Fluffy and smutty.

Disclaimer: Had to balance their rough present with lots of fluff and smut...I hope you don’t mind. 😉

There are song lyrics in italics...I chose the lyrics because I found them to be fitting for the charactes in question.

It was New Year’s Eve, you and Roman were going to one the most sought after party in Gotham. It was elegant, dream like masquerade. Anyone who was anyone would be in attendance. At the moment, nothing else was important. It was one of the few holidays in Gotham that everyone would just celebrate.

“So you would like some soft curls?”

“Yes, please.”

Roman, had a person stylist visit you. They not only were they going to help you with your make up and hair but finalize your choice on a dress. “Sometimes, you truly loved being pampered and this was one such occasion.

You watched the lady work her magic. You were tickled to the core to attend. It had been something, you had always wanted to do.

“Feeling good kitten?” Thinking of him, and he popped his head in. You smiled.

“Yes! Shoo you...no more peaking till we are ready to leave.” You tried to contain any giggles to not give this lady a hard time.

“Alright....” he gave a very dramatic, playful sigh. “See you later.”

You thought you would forever read about it in the magazines or watch clips on the news but now you were attending with the handsomest man in Gotham, your Roman! Just the thought made your heart flutter harder after just seeing him.

*****

You gasped when you saw the mask that Roman had chosen for you. The rose, the designs, wow. It delicately waited for you on a pillow. Thankful it was attached to a rod, so you held it to your face. It was so lovely.

“There’s my queen.”

“Roman!”

He held up his hands, “Don’t send me away again?” He chuckled and drew closer to you.

You smiled, rolled your eyes and shook your head happily. “Ok, come here.”

You could feel as his eyes moved over you. “Do you like what I chose Roman?” You put the mask down on the pillow.

He soon drew closer still then easily wrapped his arms around your middle. He made a very happy sound. “I will be the luckiest man there.”

You flushed. “Oh, Roman.”

He let one of his hands drift up till he cupped your cheek. “You know I speak the truth.”

You gently leaned into his hand. “I know.” Moving, you placed a soft kiss on his hand. You loved his gloves, they certainly heightened intimacy and were well down right part of who he was but when his hands were bare, you did enjoy how soft and solid they were.

“Keep kissing me like that, Y/N and we may just have to stay here.” He paused, his blue eyes were filled with mischief. “However, I do love showing you off, and that makes it worth while.”

“Well, I will just have to start kissing you like that when I want to head home.”

Smirking, he drew close. “You have my permission to do that anytime you want time for just us.” He kissed you then.” You sighed and melted into his kiss.

****

Back, in his walk-in closet, he took out the small box that held a little something special and tucked into the inside pocket of his tux, the he slipped on a pair of snow white and black gloves.

He was beyond thrilled to be taking you to this party. Your dress, your curls everything had come together so nicely for you. It pleased him greatly.

He grabbed the mask he had designed especially for this evening. Tonight he was moving forward, life was finally infolding as he wished it to bed. He ran his fingers through his hair before turning on his heel and went to meet you at the elevator.

*****

“Those flashes will be far more daunting then the ones they had for your event, I must warn you.”

You nodded. “I just hope I won’t trip.”

“You won’t,” He squeezed your hand. “Hold my hand and I won’t let you fall.”

For you, he loved sharing the spotlight the longer you were together. You supported him and never judged. If anything when he came home, he enjoyed that you didn’t mind the mess sometimes came along with keeping things in line.

“Let’s do this kitten.”

He slid out and gave the cameras one of his most radiant smiles. He turned towards you and offered his hand. He smiled wider as you took it.

You had such grace, it pleased him to no end. Together you walked the carpet, pausing for photos with and without your masks.

*****

The food was exceptionally good. There was a wide assortment. All food desires were easily there on trays here and there. Speciality plates moved around on the trays that the waiters brought weaving between the groups of people here and there. As wide of a selection the food was the array of drinks.

Mostly with your arm linked with Roman’s you smiled and made small talk with people. Some wanted to discuss your creations but you made the promise that once the new year was well on its way would you want to discuss your creations. Roman, as well did not discuss anything about his club or Janus Cosmetics.

*****

As midnight was soon, approached you sipped on your third glass of champagne. When Roman, came your way, “Y/N, I asked for a special song, dance with me?”

You put your glass down and let him sweep you away.

How sweet it is to be loved by you

I needed the shelter of someone's arms and there you were

I needed someone to understand my ups and downs and there you were

You met his eyes, as the singer began to sing, your eyes began to fill. “Roman, I don’t know what to say.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes I can be sentimental.”

You saw his attention get distracted but then he smiled and swished you around and around till be was able to dance you out onto the balcony.

“Now, we can have a moment” Cupped your cheek he placed a quick kiss. Was his gloved hand shaking. You thought for a moment. But you barely were able to react as he slipped downed right in front of you.

“Roman..” You looked at him confused.

He smiled up you, “yes? I have to tell you something.”

Oddly, you were slight confused and but he was making you feel all tingly.

“Y/N, before I met you I was, fuck I am ruthless beast at times. I do what is necessary. Though the longer, you are around I do not want to be alone anymore. Y/N, will you be the beauty to my beast?”

Tears, came then and you nodded. “Yes...yes. I want to be.”

He got up then and slipped the ring onto your finger

“Oh Roman, you are no beast you are man, a king of this great city and you just do what is needed.”

“Oh, Y/N this is why I love you.” He kissed you then.

Fireworks rose, climbed higher and higher then exploded into colorful radiance.

“It must be new years!” You squealed as Roman, picked you up and swished you about. “Kitten, we’ve survived till midnight. Let’s go home.”

“I’d like that.”

*****

Once the door closed and the car began to pull away, he pulled you close.

“I have quite the naughty idea.”

You were intrigued. “What is it?”

He smirked, “I will tell you once we’re home and once I am done checking in with all the New Year festivities in the club. He gave you a rather chaste kiss, then he moved so he could comfortably hold you as the driver managed to get you back.

You eyed him, in the pit of your stomach excitement began to knot up. What could he possibly have in mind. A little over a year of being together and you two have done more things then you could ever imagine. Roman was insatiable and well you never knew next what he’d be up to.

You still remember how the two of you broke in your studio he had put together for you...

You were more the willing to work close to him. That kidnapping had really shaken you up, so you also were rather fond of having protection now that you knew how easy it was for things to go awry.

One particular, afternoon you were at your drafting table, sketching away. Your favorite music was blaring away, feeding into creativity. When, one of the earbuds, was gently removed from your ear.

“Kitten,” Roman’s voice, dark voice filled your world. “Continue working but you must remove your panties for me.”

You started to turn back to him.

“Nope, keep focused on your work don’t look back at me. Just do as I say. And open those sweet legs of yours more.”

Truth be told sometimes you would straddle or just have a very wide sitting stance so you could rest your elbows on your thighs...or just because hey..that is just how you sat.

You nodded. “Ok.”

“Good girl.” He remarked then placed the ear bud back into your ear.

You out your pencil down in the cradle for any tool you decided to use.

Standing almost hovering, you removed your panties. Not looking back, you dropped them beside your chair. You did as you were told and backed the seat up. Feeling like you were on displaypmay it a little harder to breath but then you started working again and easily to fell into the rhythm of the music.

Drifting in the world of your creativity when you first felt his gloved hands on your exposed thighs almost made you jump. Stressing to keep your hand steady you stared hard onto the paper in front of you. Though with each movement of his hands the more breathless you became.

You reached down and lowered the volume on the music. To remained focused, you bit your bottom lip. Though you couldn’t stop from moaning as your felt the scruffiness from his cheeks, chin as he placed nibbles on your thighs.

A smirked curled his lips before he continued. An ache began to throb between your legs hoping he’d pay you some attention to you there.

“Roman,” you pleaded, squirming a little.

You attempted to draw your newest creation from a different angle. That worked for a little while but that was when he licked you. It made you shiver. Then he licked a litter deeper. You tried desperately to do as he told you to continue working but you couldn’t. You dug your fingers into his soft brown strands and opened yourself wider if that was even possible.

“Roman,” moaned, as you finally had to look at him. His blue eyes were electric as be tilted his head up to look at you. You panted and moaned since he continued lick at you as his eyes remained locked with yours.

You were jostled out of the memory when the car came to a stop.

“We’re home.” He announced. You slid from and let him get out of the car first then holding his hand you slid out yourself. He pulled you close. “Stand with me while I wish the crowds a happy new year, then be a good girl and get upstairs. Change into something playful then I want you to go and hide. After I am done downstairs I will come upstairs and find you. And don’t you dare make it easy on me.”

With his arm tightly around your middle he brought the party crowd that was wild with drink and food to an absolute silence, “Happy New Year!” He hollored, “Are we having a good time?” There were wild cheers and whoops. “Fantastic! A round of a shots for everyone in here!” He made a twirl with his finger. “Turn it up!” He handed you his mask, patted you on the backside, “Go now like a good girl.” You then watched in relish as he went to move among the crowd, attending to business.

@spn-obession @thehybrid666 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @zodiyack @ewanfuckingmcgregor @vintagemichelle91 @emyliabernstein @top-rumbelle-fan @rosionis @johallzy

#roman sionis pov #roman sionis smut #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis fanfiction #roman sionis #ewan mcgregor #fanfiction #bop #birds of prey #creative fervor #part one #new year truly new beginnings #smut #fluffy

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winchesterbrotherstan · 4 years

Text

SPN- Crossroad Blues (2.08)

Pairing: Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: The siblings find a case that isn’t what it seems, Dean pulls a dangerous stunt, and Olive comes clean about a few big secrets

Warnings: mentions of blood, demons, bad dogs, uhhh, cursing

Word Count: 5054

I huffed as Sam pulled the computer screen out of the line of sight of people around us. I looked at the picture, then at Dean with another huff. Jinx whined at our feet.

“So much for our low profile.” Sam grumbled. “You’ve got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you’re officially in the fed’s database. And Ol, you’ve got a warrant in Maryland.”

I shrugged as I looked at our mugshots.

“Dude, I’m like Dillinger or something.”

“Dean, it’s not funny. Makes our lives harder, we’ve gotta be more careful now.”

“Well Sams, what do they have on you?”

“I’m sure they just haven’t posted it yet.” He mumbled.

I looked at Dean, who grinned. “No accessory? Nothing?”

“Shut up.” Sam scowled.

Dean laughed. “You’re jealous.”

“No, I’m not!” Sam spat.

I giggled. “You should’ve come with me, you’d have a warrant too.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shut the laptop. I leaned forward with a smile. “Alright, what do we have so far?”

“Yeah, you innocent, harmless, young man. What d’ya got?”

Sam pulled out a folder. “Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condo he designed.”

“Hmm.” Dean hummed. “Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That’s classy. When did he call animal control?”

“Two days before he died.”

“Did he actually say black dog?”

“Yeah. A, and I quote, vicious, wild, black dog. Authorities couldn’t find it, no one else saw it. In fact, the authorities are kinda confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up, and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town.” Sam sighed. “And after that, no more calls, doesn’t show up for work. Then he takes the swan dive.”

I looked back at Dean and picked a fry off his plate. “Think we’re dealing with an actual black dog?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Sams, what’s the lore on it?”

Sam handed me a few pages from the folder with a shrug. “It’s all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but… some say they’re animal spirits, others say death omens. Either way, they’re big and nasty.”

Dean plucked a sketch from the pile and held it up with a smirk. “Yeah, I bet they could hump the fuck outta your leg, huh?”

Sam glared and I snorted. Dean’s smile turned into a frown.

“What? They could!”

***

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Sam and Dean insisted that I wear heels to look older, and I could already feel blisters forming.

“So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?”

“That’s right.” The man nodded at us. “Now one more time, this is for…”

“A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest.”

The man snorted, and Dean’s eyes narrowed.

“This funny to you?”

“No, it’s…” He sighed. “It’s just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind. Well, he gets another tribute.”

“Right.” Sam nodded. “Any idea why he’d do such a thing?”

He shrugged. “I have no clue. I mean, he lived a charmed life.”

“How so?” I furrowed my eyebrows.

“He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I’m capable, but next to him, I… and it wasn’t always that way, either.”

“No?”

“You wanna know the truth? There was a time where Sean couldn’t even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago he was working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive.”

“Right.” Sam nodded. “So what changed?”

“You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing… he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like… the level of van Gogh, and Mozart.” He stopped, staring at the ground.

“What?”

“It’s funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don’t they? To have that kind of talent. Why… why just throw it away?”

***

I yawned and rubbed my eyes. Sam smiled from beside me.

“Are you sleepy?”

I nodded. “A little.”

He held his arm up and I dove into his side, head resting against his chest. I let my eyes fall shut as I took a deep breath. I hadn’t been sleeping right for the last week. Drinking Dean’s blood had healed me, but he insisted that doing it every day would make me stronger. So far, it was doing nothing but giving me vivid nightmares.

I had woken up thinking I had killed him, and after two nights of hearing me scream, Sam suggested that I sleep in his bed instead. I felt like the scum of the earth, and although I knew better, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Sam saw me in the same way.

Jinx yawned from the backseat, and Sam giggled. The driver’s side door opened, and Dean slid in.

“So?”

“Secretary’s name is Carly. She’s twenty-three, she kayaks, and they’re real.” Dean grinned at me.

I sighed, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“You didn’t happen to ask her if she’s seen any black dogs lately, did you?”

Dean pulled a folded page from his jacket pocket. “Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There’s nineteen calls in all. And uh…” He pulled a post-it off the paper. “I don’t know what this thing is.”

Sam plucked the post-it from him and laughed.

“You mean her MySpace address?”

“Yeah, MySpace. What the hell is that?”

Sam and I both laughed, and Dean stared.

“Guys, I’m being serious. Is it like…” He leaned over and put his hands over my ears, but I could still hear him.

“Is it like some sort of porn thing?”

Sam and I only laughed harder.

***

I sighed and rolled my neck. Dean huffed.

“I swear, if this is another fucking pomeranian barking in the neighbor’s yard-”

The front door opened, and Dean cleared his throat.

“Afternoon, ma’am.” He flashed his ID. “Animal Control.”

“Oh, someone already came yesterday.” The young woman shook her head.

“Oh, we’re just following up.”

“We’re looking for a Dr. Sylvia Pearlman.”

***

“The doctor, well, she… I don’t know exactly when she’ll be back. She left two days ago.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded. “And you are?”

“I’m Ms. Pearlman’s maid.”

“So, where did the doctor go?” I asked, keeping an eye on Dean, who was roaming around the living room.

“I’m not sure.” She shook her head. “She just packed and went, she didn’t say where. That stray dog, did you finally find it?”

“Oh, uh, not yet. You know, you didn’t ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?”

“Well, no.” She sighed. “I never even heard it. I was almost starting to think that she was imagining things, but she’s not like that, so…”

Dean plucked a photograph off the wall and squinted at it. “Hey, I read she was uh, chief surgeon at the hospital. She’s gotta be what, forty two, forty three? That’s pretty young for that job.”

The woman nodded. “Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position about ten years ago, I think.”

Dean hummed, and I sighed.

“An overnight success. Ten years ago.”

Dean flipped the photograph over. “Yeah, we know a guy like that.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, hey. Look at this.” He showed us the back of the photo. “Lloyd’s Bar.”

***

I sighed as Dean put the car in park. He ruffled my hair with a smile and a wink.

“Alright. We’ll be back, keep an eye on Jinx. Yeah?”

I nodded. “Okay. Be careful please.”

Sam smiled and kissed my head before clambering out of the car. “Always, bug. You too.”

I watched as they started toward the door, and then Dean stopped. He and Sam exchanged a few words, then Dean pointed. I shifted around to see and sighed.

A crossroads, with yellow flowers growing in each corner. I squinted. Those were yarrow flowers, which were used for rituals. Summoning rituals.

“I’ll be right back, girl.” I patted Jinx on the head before climbing out of the car.

The boys heard the noise, and Sam beckoned me over.

“So, two people become sudden success about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out at Lloyd’s.” Dean stated.

“Where there just happens to be a crossroads.” Sam sighed.

“You guys think?”

Dean shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

He walked into the middle of the crossroads and stopped, looking around. “This seem about dead center to you?”

Sam and I both tilted our heads.

“A little more to the left.”

“My left or your left?”

“Uh, our left. So your right.”

“Gotcha.” Dean mumbled as he shuffled a few steps over.

“Stop, there.” Sam put a hand up.

“I’ll get you a shovel.” I put a hand up. “Keys.”

He tossed them and I snatched them out of the air, hurrying to get a shovel from the trunk. I grabbed it and shut the trunk, handing it off Sam. He took it to Dean while I let Jinx out, holding her on a tight leash so she wouldn’t get in Dean’s way. Dean dug a few inches past the gravel and the sound of metal against metal made me cringe.

“Yahtzee.” He grinned and dropped the shovel, going at it with his hands.

He pulled out an old rusted box and dusted it off, coughing. He opened it and Sam and I dropped to his side. I sat in the dirt and picked through the box, pulling out old, small bones. Sam took a jar with a sigh.

“I’d be willing to bet this is graveyard dirt. And that’s a black cat bone.”

“That’s serious spellwork.” Dean sighed.

“Yeah, like Deep South Hoodoo shit.” I put the bones back in the box and rubbed my hands off on my jeans.

“Used to summon a demon.” Sam huffed.

“Not just summon. Crossroads are where pacts are made.” Dean grew upset as he stood. “These people are making deals with the fucking thing. You know, cause that always ends good.”

“They’re seeing dogs, alright. Just not black dogs.”

“Hellhounds. Demonic dobermans.” I huffed, petting Jinx’s head.

“Yeah. Whoever this demon is, it’s back and collecting. And that doctor lady?” Dean let out a low whistle. “Wherever she’s running? She ain’t running fast enough.”

We circled back to the car, tin box in hand. Dean had it in his hands, but he had closed it. He was agitated, and I felt guilt start to rise in my throat.

“So it’s just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads kinda deal?”

“Yeah, except that wasn’t a legend. I mean, you know his music.”

Sam shrugged, and Dean deadpanned. “You don’t know Robert Johnson’s songs? Sam, there’s occult references all over his lyrics. I mean, Crossroad Blues? Me and the Devil Blues? Hellhound on My Trail?”

Sam only pouted, and Dean sighed.

“Story goes, he died choking on his own blood. He was hallucinating, and muttering about big evil dogs.”

“And now it’s happening all over again.”

“Yeah.” I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “We’ve gotta figure out who else made deals here.”

“Great.” Dean groaned. “So we’ve gotta clean up these peoples’ messes for em? I mean, they’re not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play Let’s Make A Deal.”

“So what, we should just let them die?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. “Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and save em?”

“Dean.” Sam and I made the same face.

“Fine.” Dean sighed. “Alright, rituals like this, you’ve gotta put your own photo in the mix, right? So this guy probably summoned this thing, let’s go and see if anyone inside knows him.” He paused. “If he’s still alive.”

***

“What’s this guy’s name again?” I asked as we walked up the set of wide, wooden stairs.

“George Darrow. Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd’s. Though this house probably ain’t up next on MTV cribs, is it?”

Sam chuckled and I sighed. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, so whatever kinda deal he made…”

“Wasn’t for cash.” Dean huffed. “Oh, who knows.” He shrugged and grinned at us. “Maybe this place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis.”

Sam and I sighed.

“No, I’m just saying… this dude’s got one epic bill due. Hope he at least asked for something fun.”

I made it to the door first and noticed black dust lined up under the door. I crouched and slid a finger through it.

“What’s wrong?”

“The hell is this, pepper?” I stood and held my finger out to Dean.

The door swung open and I jumped back into Dean, caught off guard.

“Who the hell are you?”

“George Darrow?” Sam tried.

“I’m not buying anything.” He moved to shut the door in our faces.

“Whoa, whoa.” Dean chuckled. “Looks like you went for the wrong shaker there.”

George glared and I sighed.

“Usually when you wanna keep something evil out, you use salt.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man spat.

“Talking about this.” Dean held the photo from the tin box up. “Tell me. You seen that Hellhound yet?”

The man’s face went blank and he pulled away.

“Look, we just want to help. Please.” Sam begged. “Just five minutes.”

He sighed and let us in. I followed Dean, and Sam stayed behind me. The apartment was full of paintings, some done and others barely started. There was a table full of paint and brushes, and a bottle of whiskey. George served himself some in a glass, and the three of us looked around, and then at each other.

“So what is that stuff out front?”

“Goofer dust.”

I blinked, and Sam and Dean awkwardly faced George.

“What, you kids think you know something about something but not Goofer dust?” He pulled a brown sack from behind an easel and tossed it straight at us.

Sam and Dean both flinched, and I reached up and caught it with ease.

“We know a little about a lot of things.” I explained as I inched closer to Dean, looking at the bag.

“Just enough to make us dangerous.” Dean mumbled.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“Hoodoo. My grandma taught me. Keeps out demons.”

“Demons, now that we know.” Dean perked up.

“Well, then.” George huffed. “Maybe it’ll do you some good.” He slumped in a chair. “Four minutes left.”

Dean and I glanced at each other with slitted eyes before both turning to Sam. He took the lead with gentleness.

“Mr. Darrow. We know you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, that you got yourself into.” Dean grumbled.

I elbowed him, hard, and he grunted as Sam kept talking.

“But it��s not hopeless, alright? There’s gotta be something we can do.”

“Listen.” George sighed. “I get that you boys wanna help. But sometimes a person makes their bed, they’ve just got to lie down in it. I’m the one who called that demon in the first place.”

Dean huffed as he shot us both an I told you so look. “What’d you do it for?”

“I was weak. I mean… who don’t wanna be great? Who don’t want their life to mean something? I just… I never thought about the price.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Hell, no. Course, I asked for talent. Shoulda gone for fame. I’m still broke and lonely. Just that now I got this pile of paintings don’t nobody want. But that wasn’t the worst…”

“Go on.” Sam pressed.

“Demon didn’t leave. I never counted on that. After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyd’s for a week. Just chatting. Making more deals. I tried to warn folks, but, I mean… who’s gonna listen to an old drunk?”

“How many others?” I asked.

“Uh, the architect, that doctor lady. I kept up with them, they’ve been in the papers. Least they got famous.” He sighed.

“Who else?”

He shook his head.

“Come on, George, think.” Dean pressured.

“One more. Uh, a nice guy, too. Hudson. Evan, I think. I don’t know what he asked for. Don’t matter now. We done for.”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “No, there’s gotta be a way.”

“You don’t get it!” George shouted, and the three of us inched away. “I don’t want a way!”

“Look, you don’t-”

“I called that thing! I brought it on myself! I brought it on them…” He sighed. “I’m going to hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I’m done. I’m just trying to hold them off til then. Buy a little time. Okay, kids. Time you went, go help somebody that wants help.”

“We can’t just-”

“Get out!” George snapped. “I got work to do.”

“You don’t really wanna die.” Sam reasoned.

“I don’t?” George challenged. “I’m… I’m tired.”

The three of us shared a look before heading for the door.

***

Sam knocked on the door, and Jinx tugged at the leash. I tugged back, forcing her to sit. The door opened, and a man poked his head out.

“Yes?”

“Evan Hudson?”

“You ever been to a bar called Lloyd’s? Would’ve been about ten years ago.” Dean’s face was devoid of expression.

Evan slammed the door shut with a grunt, and I heard the latch go. I sighed.

“Come on, we’re not demons!” Dean called.

“Any other bright ideas?” I turned to Dean with a scowl.

Dean gave me a bitchface before turning, setting himself, and then kicking the door down in one go. I let go of Jinx and she ran in, following where Evan had gone. Dean set himself back up, and Sam smacked his leg down.

“Wait!” He hissed.

Dean scowled, and Sam shot him a look right back. He turned the handle and gently pushed the door open. There was no noise from inside, and Sam stepped in first. Jinx stayed by my side, tail wagging.

“Evan?”

“Please!” He jumped out into sight, hands up. “Don’t hurt me.”

Sam put his own hands up, and Dean’s face remained blank. Jinx sat down, head tilted to the side.

“We’re not going to hurt you, alright? We’re here to help you.”

Dean took the lead, stepping forward. “We know all about the genius deal you made.”

“What?” Evan was shocked. “How?”

“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re trying to stop it.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Evan shuffled backward as I took a step forward.

“Well, you don’t, but you’re kinda running low on options there, buddy boy.” Dean spat.

Evan swallowed and began to pace back and forth. “Can you stop it?”

“Don’t know. We can try.”

“I don’t want to die.” Evan whined.

“Of course you don’t, not now.” Dean hissed.

“Dean.” Sam whispered. “Stop.”

“What’d you ask for anyway, Evan? Huh? Never need viagra? Bowl a perfect game? What?”

“My wife.”

Dean let out a harsh laugh. “Right. Getting the girl. Well, that’s worth a trip to hell for.”

“Dean, stop.” I warned.

“No. He’s right.” Evan sighed. “I made the deal. Nobody twisted my arm, that… woman, or whatever she was… at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but… I don’t know how… I was desperate.”

“Desperate?” Sam repeated.

“Julie was dying.”

“You did it to save her?” I asked, voice quiet.

“She had cancer. They’d stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice, they kept saying… a matter of days. So yeah. I made the deal. And I’d do it again.” Evan shook his head. “I’d have died for her on the spot.”

Dean took a predatory step forward. “You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn’t have to live without her. But guess what? She’s gonna have to live without you now. What if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul, huh! How do you think she would feel!”

“Dean!” I shouted, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him backward.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Sam warned, then turned to Evan. “You just sit tight, alright? We’re gonna figure this out.”

I pulled Dean into the hallway, grip on his wrist tight. Jinx stayed with Evan, and Sam followed us out.

“What’s your deal?” I hissed.

“I’m fine.” Dean snapped.

“Dean-”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean snarled. “Look, I got an idea. Ol, you still got the Goofer dust?”

I scowled as I pulled the bag out and handed it over. “You throw George’s hoodoo at the Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I’m gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon.”

“The fucking hell you are.” I glared at him.

“Olive, I’m the fucking grown up here.”

“Dean, are you nuts?” Sam tried to ease the tension.

“Maybe a little. But I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent.”

“How much time, Dean?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I don’t know. A while. It’s not easy for those clusterfucks to claw their way back from hell and into the sunshine.”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “No way.”

“You’re not allowed to say no, Sammy. Not unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“Dean, we’re not gonna let you summon that bitch.”

“Why not?” Dean turned back to me.

I shook my head, and Sam jumped in.

“We don’t like where your head is at right now, that’s why not.”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?”

“Dean, you’ve been on edge ever since we found the crossroad.” I reached for his hand.

He let me take it and turned back to Sam with a huff.

“She’s right. And we know why.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Dean tore his hand from mine and brushed past us both. He shoved the Goofer dust into Sam’s chest without stopping, ready to take off.

“Dad.” I called. “It’s because Dad.”

“I’ve been thinking it too, De. I’m sure you have too.”

Dean’s shoulders shrunk and he sighed. “It fits, doesn’t it? I’m alive. Dad’s head. Yellow-eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul?”

“I think I hear it!” Evan shouted. “It’s outside!”

Dean steeled himself once more, but his expression softened. “Just keep him alive, okay?”

“Dean…”

“Go.” Dean pointed.

Sam and I turned back and Dean took off. Sam began to line the windows with Goofer dust. I tied Jinx’s leash to the bookshelf Evan had hidden behind and took a handful from the bag, making a circle around Evan.

“What is this stuff?”

“Goofer dust.”

“Is she serious?”

“Afraid so.” Sam sighed. “Look. Believe us, don’t believe us. Whatever you want. Just stay inside the circle, alright?”

Evan nodded and hugged himself as he stood in the circle. Sam helped me finish it, shaking out the last grains from the bag.

“Alright. That’s the last of it.” Sam sighed and we began to pace around the room, eyes on the dust.

Sam was quiet, thinking. I glanced over at Evan, who looked horrified, but somehow at peace. I sighed and turned to Sam.

“It wasn’t supposed to be Dad.”

Sam blinked. “What?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be Dad.” I repeated, feeling tears brew in my eyes. “It was supposed to be me.”

“Olive, what are you…”

“I gave Bobby a different list. I did it on purpose. I was gonna make a deal. For Dean. That way, you, and him, and Dad would be together.”

“Olive.” Sam shot me a warning glance.

“That’s what Dad and I were fighting about before Dean woke up. He knew what I was gonna do. So he did it instead.”

“Olive…”

“It’s my fault that Dad is dead. It’s not Dean’s. I should’ve been quicker.”

“Olive.”

“If Bobby hadn’t said anything, it would’ve happened. And Dean would be happy. He’d have Dad.”

“Olive, don’t you let him hear you say that. Okay? He will never forgive you.”

My heart shattered at the prospect, but I shook my head. “I don’t care. I’m so tired of lying to him. I can’t see him like this, not anymore. I should’ve died, and Dad should still be here.”

“Olive, that’s not-”

“I’m a fucking monster, Sam! How many teenage girls do you know that have to drink their brother’s blood everyday?” I hissed.

Sam looked away, and I nodded, wiping away my tears.

“Exactly. I should be dead, and Dad should be here.”

“Did you guys hear that?”

“No. Where?” I wiped my tears and stood straight.

“Right outside the door.”

The office doors began to rattle like it was the end of the world. Sam grabbed Jinx and pulled me to follow as he stepped inside the circle of Goofer dust. The three of us stared at the door as it shook harder. Jinx whined, and then barked.

“Just don’t move, alright?” Sam ordered. “Stay where you are.”

The door almost came off the hinges before stopping suddenly. We swallowed hard before turning to Evan.

“Do you still hear it?”

“No. Is it over?”

We looked at each other, and Evan whipped around to stare at a grate in the corner. I mumbled a string of curse words to myself, and Sam pushed Jinx into my arms. He slowly crouched and picked me up, placing me on his hip.

The grate burst off the wall, and the Goofer dust began to blow away.

“It’s here!” Evan shouted.

I looked and gasped.

“Ol?”

“I guess the glasses work.”

A huge, hairy, pitch black dog that looked more like a wolf moved closer. Red eyes and yellow fangs, and everything about it screamed death. Another one came out after it.

“Sammy.” I whined, clinging to him.

“Can’t you see it?” Evan whined.

“No! Stay inside the circle!” Sam ordered.

I tightened my grip on him. The dogs circled us, but it was like watching a silent movie. Jinx let out a howl. They clawed at the floor, gouging deeper than an inch in the wood. They stopped just outside the Goofer dust, glaring.

Sam huddled the three of us closer, trying to protect Evan while keeping me on in case we needed to bolt. I watched as the wind from the grate continued to eat at our circle.

“Come on, De.” Sam whispered.

The wind blew at our hair, and Jinx let out a loud whimper. I ducked my head into Sam’s neck and tensed up, ready to die.

“Circles broken, come on!” Sam shouted and took off, dragging Evan along with us.

Evan ducked into a storage room down the hall, and Sam slammed the door shut behind us.

“Bug! Need a hand!”

I handed Jinx off to Evan and let out a growl, helping Sam hold the door shut. My head began to throb, and my fangs tore at my bottom lip. The hellhounds pushed hard, but Sam and I pushed back harder, both grunting.

The pounding stopped.

***

“Demons lie all the time, right?” Sam repeated what we had told him so long ago when we were on the plane. “Maybe she was lying.”

“Come on. That really what you think?”

Sam looked down, and I looked away, shuffling closer to him.

“How could he do it?”

“He did it for you.”

“Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that? You know, the thought of him… wherever he is right now. I mean, he spent his whole life chasing that… yellow-eyed son of a bitch. He should have gone out fighting. That was supposed to be his legacy. You know? Not bargaining with the damn thing. Not this.”

“How many people do you think Dad saved? Total.”

“That’s not the point, Sam.”

“Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That’s his legacy, Dean.”

“She’s right, man. We’re still here. We gotta keep going. For him.”

There was a long pause, and I turned back to Dean.

“De?”

He hummed in response.

“When you were trapping that demon, you weren't… I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?”

He stared straight ahead, then glanced out the window. Tears began to stream down my face and I turned to bury myself in Sam’s side as the radio began to blare. Sam only wrapped his arms tighter around me.

***

Sam shut the bathroom door, and I heard the shower turn on.

“Dean.” I whispered.

“What is it, kid?” He didn’t look up from the TV.

“It wasn’t supposed to be Dad. I’m sorry.” I sat on the bed opposite of him and fiddled with my thumbs.

He turned the TV off and knelt down in front of me.

“What the hell does that mean, Olive?” He got closer to my face.

“I was supposed to make the deal. Dad did it instead. It’s my fault he’s gone, not yours. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean you were gonna make a deal?”

“My soul. For your life. But Dad found out. And he did it instead.” I looked up with tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Dean’s face conveyed an emotion I couldn’t describe. He looked like he wanted to kill me and smother me in kisses at the same time.

He put his hands on my knees and let out a shaky breath.

“Why would you even think about doing that?”

The tears began to flow freely. “I just wanted you to be happy. You loved Dad, more than Sam and I ever did. I just wanted you to be happy, Dean.”

His hands moved up to my cheeks and took another deep breath. “Olive Sam Winchester. If you think, even for a moment, that I would be happier with anybody than I am with you and Sam, you’re dead wrong.”

My lips quivered and I looked up, meeting his eyes through blurred vision.

“I’m sorry.”

He only shook his head and pulled me into a hug.

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Next Caller Pt 5

* A couple hours earlier *

Still mid call with Dain in his try to figure out who was behind the show Gorgo sat in her office that Gimli and Gloin had stopped in the office across from to give her some privacy. Admiring the new art on the wall Gimli kept busy while Gloin glanced at his still buzzing phone deciding to silence the guys in their constant requests for updates. Calling Thorin he said, “Thorin, none of you mentioned the Lass worked for Findis for 12 years.”

Through the line he could feel their moment of looking at one another around the phone on speaker before Dwalin asked, “She works at Findis? We never got that far.”

Thorin, “Only came up how long her shifts were. She had a good review then?”

Gloin, “The Dominic fiasco, she fixed it.”

Balin, “Impressive. No doubt they will have ample tales to share on our young Lass.”

Gloin, “Well, tomorrow is her day off, I’ll be there with all the details for her.”

Dwalin, “What did she settle on? We caught you mentioning she could afford a home.”

Gloin, “Cerulean Circle. Perfect for her to grow into.”

Thorin, “Better deal than her current expense?”

Gloin smirked, “Around 500 cheaper a month.”

Thorin, “Good. It was what she wanted all around?”

Gloin, “She expected a closet I assume. Seemed nervous, assuming it would all get pulled out from under her. I don’t know what she’s faced before in backlash for her relatives, this house is exactly what she deserves right now. So no spooking her tomorrow with any comments on anything going wrong or foul weather or any omens, nothing, I don’t want to risk startling the poor dear she’s had a rough few centuries so far.”

Dwalin, “We wouldn’t dream of it. The boys will behave we’ll see to it.”

They couldn’t even begin to imagine what to expect of Beryl. All the news shared was that it was this ghastly place, but with the fact that you had lived there each of them had a hint of hope that it wasn’t as terrible as others had let on. An hour and a half drive from their familiar city to endless interstate flipped suddenly to what they could only link to a sort of resort style decor. Bright but empty buildings that would seem like they would be lovely and ready to open up for the day yet the empty flowering cacti lined streets were bare of any customers. Word apparently had passed on and if someone would be taking over the city it seemed easier as all the Troll, Orc and Uruk-hai citizens were driving opposite ways from where they were headed with loaded trucks of their own leaving just the gleeful goblins strolling by between groups of Easterlings glaring at each truck passing by.

Up to the lot behind your building they pulled in and Thorin exited the van with his cousins and Nephews while the Driver stayed in the truck watching the group of Uruk-hai teens loading up more boxes into their own while their mother nursed their sister. Peering up at the oddly cheerful yellow shingled building with ample windows, balconies and a glass roof for the very top floor surrounded by sectioned off planters with clearly dug up plants a trio of Trolls were potting to transfer to their owners in their group upping arrival. Fili, “Not what I pictured.”

Bilbo, “Certainly not what the news says it’s like.”

Gloin eyed the building saying, “17th floor.”

Thorin glanced at his cousin and sighed joining Dwalin on leading the way into the stunningly picturesque apartment lobby with crisp white and gold accented wingback furniture and cherry tables topped by gold lights filling the place. Into the massive elevator they all squeezed and Kili said, “There’s no floor 17.”

Gloin cleared his throat feeling eyes on him and said, “A renter refused to sacrifice space to aid in continuing the lift shaft.”

Bofur couldn’t help but snort behind his hand and Kili hit the button and the men sighed hating they would have to take two flights of stairs. Only at the 15th floor they noticed the ceilings for higher and in the stairwell they realized there was four flights they would have to trek to get to your floor. Groaning on the whole path they finally reached your floor eyeing the hand carved doors each with stunning tunes and images etched into the wooden slats on the metal doors.

The one on the end sticking out by the much older wood and firefly accented door above the yellow and black diagonally striped mat outside drew them to it. The opening of the one across from it however halted the men who eyed the massive pair of Uruk-hai brothers standing at over eight feet tall who looked them over in return only to nod their heads and shift allowing the bubbly blonde half Troll women through. The last who said in a thick accent, “Good to see ta Bun has moving hands.”

Her mate grunted in return, “Not much to move,” shifting to grab an armful of ukulele cases his brother grabbed the rest of.

The other male said with a point, “Trash chute is silver, big shaft, take that to 15, how we moved couches.”

Thorin nodded, “Will do, thank you.”

His wife grinned and passed Dwalin a decorative pan in the shape of a flower, “For ta Bun, luck and safe for move.”

Dwalin nodded in their path to the stairs leaving their empty oblong apartment open, “I’ll give it to her.”

“You help ta Bun?” A voice behind them boomed and it seemed more and more doors opened up with the same question being asked until all five doors around them had been left open and empty apartments sat open in the families heading down to their vehicles.

Pulling the lever in the wall next to the door frame Bilbo drew the focus back to your apartment at the muffled buzzing sound followed by a muffled thud narrowing eyes at the door. Suddenly it swung open and with a panting grin you eyed the group of Dwarves behind the Hobbit who flashed you a quick grin once his eyes had trailed the lightning streak like scar along your collar bone in a telling white on your olive skin revealed in your sideways slanted baggy tank top over ink stained jean shorts and bright green converse. “Hey, um, wow you brought a group, I pictured like, three of you.”

Thorin smirked and rumbled back, “What use would three be in emptying a house? Your neighbors gifted, ta Bun, a bunch of tins.”

In their flashing you the tins you grinned, “Aww, so sweet of them they didn’t have to.”

Dwalin, “Can we ask why?”

“I’m the elder on the floor. You always gift the eldest before you leave a territory.” When you stepped back you said, “Guess we can see how many of you fit.”

Peering inside Dwalin asked eyeing the floor to ceiling piles of books with cubbies filled with knickknacks, sketches and mini framed portraits. “You didn’t pack?” All across the walls around the cubbies and cabinets acting as your closet surely showed little effort towards moving past the laundry basket with blankets, sheets and pillows on top of the blood boiling twin sized mattress on a four inch platform.

Turning around from your path to the kitchen you eyed the shelves and giggled approaching one. At the base you tapped your foot on the blue slanted square pattern all at once causing in a ripple the cubbies to drop into the base until in a line of trunks the bare walls were revealed. Some with a few collapsing trunks resting one on top of the other or even more behind the first row parting their lips. “Sorry, keep forgetting only Trolls make them.” You said stepping around your troll sized armchair and round end table clearly acting as your dinner table on the lone patch of tile acting as your dining area against the jut out spot where your shelves for the open pantry was.

Bofur said, “Very handy.”

“Packed up the kitchen should be room for the gifts still.”

Splitting up the men divided to grab the trunks to fill the carts they brought for the trash chute. Just leaving a bed sheet coated object and the bed Kili tapped the triangle on making it snap up too luring a smirk across his lips while holding the laundry basket of sheets to carry down with the rest of it all until the room was empty except for the sheet coated object Thorin and Gloin were staring at.

Pointing at it Fili asked, “Miss Pear, what’s under the sheet?”

Gloin, “It’s not your bird cage, is it?”

You shook your head, “No, they’re up top. That’s my piano.”

Unable to help it Thorin smirked and purred, “You have a piano in all this?”

Firing back with a playful smirk you walked over and pulled back the sheet dropping their jaws seeing the partial geode carved piano with stone legs and crystal revealed top housing the keys and compartment for the strings and mounts. “Where-,” Gloin rasped out.

With a smirk you replied, “Gift from my Gran.”

Dwalin, “That’s singing stone.”

“Yes it is.” Still smirking as it registered that it was crafted from stones known to him along to whatever tune you played harmonizing to even the simplest of tunes. “Lighter than it looks.” You said guiding the Dwarves to lift the instrument and set it on the cart. While that went down you led Bilbo, Thorin and Dwalin upstairs. Right behind you Bilbo wondered just where this supposed garden of yours was only to let out a gasping squeal in seeing the stunning oasis under the golden light refracted into dozens of rainbows around the planters of various flowers, small fruit bearing trees, vines and bushes beside the trunks you closed holding your potatoes, carrots and green beans. “Now it shouldn’t be too heavy to manage, those are Uruk planters, fairly light for most races though a bit cumbersome and I’ll get the swings.”

Thorin muttered to himself, “Swings..” eyeing the Elven rope contraptions laced between support beams with bells and nipping decorations showing signs of being pecked at and adjusted.

Fili begins his uncles climbed up next saying, “I thought they said you had birds.”

“Be nice Kuu,” you said and his gaze followed yours to his left. With eyes widening at the once thought odd shimmering silver white speckled bush with a silvery green eye aimed right at Dwalin in the head turning around revealing the face of the turning three foot Great Owl chick from his being woken by the scent and sounds of the strangers.

Kili let out a breath of air, “You have a Great Owl..”

Moving past the Dwarves you shifted the hamster carrier like cage packed with woven tufts of grass and soft clover holding the egg carton like holder with the shimmering galaxy humming bird flock seated in and around the nests watching those around you. Curiously Thorin moved closer to a yellow and orange crystal box with a slot in the top filled with coins he shifted sideways to read the word ‘Rent’ across the top on a piece of painting tape. His smirk however fell at the sudden appearance of the nearly two foot tall zebra striped raven now dangling sideways on one of the swings squawked at Thorin who whispered in Raven tongue, “Hello.”

Belly replied, “Hello, that is my rent. Mind the box, it is heavy.”

Thorin smirked deeper and nodded as you said, “This is Balakavallatagh, but only I can call him Belly.”

Belly nodded, “Only Jack Rabbit.”

Bilbo after touring the mini garden helping the Dwarves on how to close or carry each planter asked, “Jack Rabbit?”

Grinning at him you said, “My name is Jaqiearae.”

He nodded, “Ah, what does ta Bun mean?”

Weakly you chuckled adjusting your sleeve to sit on your shoulder again only for it to slide off once more calling eyes back to your scar, “Trolls and Uruk call you by the meaning of your name. Jack Rabbit is a slur in their tongues. They call hare, bun. So, the Bun. You add ‘ta’ to alert others that it’s a name.”

Bilbo nodded, “Makes sense.”

Dwalin asked noticing the stained glass wrought iron panels, “What is that glass there?”

Your head turned and Belly said, “Houses stripped for travel.”

Fili looked at the Owl as he stretched his wings and shivered fluffing up his feathers mumbling, “We were told it was a long distance.”

Smirking to yourself you brought over a wicker basket with a lid you carried between the confused men saying, “Alright Kuu, lets get you down the steps and you can nap in here.”

Hopping off the short perch the men watched his strut to the steps only to slide down the railing and land with a clack of his talons muffling. Bofur chuckled seeing you crouch to raise him on your arm that lowered into the basket he nestled into as you added the lid, seen to close his eyes again through the open slot in the side. To join his friend Belly slid next halting the Dwarves there gawking at the impossibly rare breed of Raven looking each of them over with his pale green gold flecked eyes while you went up again. Each planter was being brought down while you reached up giving simple tugs on the swings that came free and filled the second basket. From downstairs you heard Belly call out, “Travel tunes!”

“I got it.” You called back making the men around you chuckle again.

Dwalin, “Travel tunes?”

Weakly you chuckled, “Insisted I make a mix tape of their favorite songs to pass the time. Never been in a car before.”

Gloin, “Can’t wait to hear what their choice is,” holding a small pear tree following Bifur with the orange tree.

Bilbo asked, “How did you manage all this? I don’t mean to insult you, but this isn’t exactly prime condition for crops.”

“I’m half Vanyar, we’re a little bit impossible.”

Dwalin rumbled, “Other half Hobbit no doubt.”

“No, Teleri, Hobbit and Maiar.” Halting him for a moment to look you over, “His Mom was half Hobbit, so, close.”

Thorin, “Maiar?”

You nodded, “Only like an eighth? I think, hard to keep up the math. I’m a mutt.” Looking to Bilbo you said, “It’s not that hard, just have to find the right mix for the soil and add in extra minerals and adjust each to fit the best sunlight positions.”

On the other end of the room Kili asked, “Miss, um, what happened to your bike?”

You turned looking at the half of your bike left by the remnants of your homemade washing machine, “That was my washing machine that also hooked up with the sprinklers.”

Bilbo, “Sprinklers?” You nodded and showed him the bucket of hoses you had used to link up to the part of the roof that flooded you used as a makeshift water well for the plants emptied by the force of the pump you had made.

Bofur, “How did you come up with all this?”

You looked at him, “Had a lot of time to myself in Ruun. You pick up a lot on how to work with scraps.”

The men collectively repeated the name of the now destroyed island prison the Dark Elves from past the Smoking Cinders Forest below Orcarni had held thousands of Elves captive from the forces they faced in the wars centuries back. “Ruun?!”

You nodded, “Service was mandatory in Nuunife, 50 years. 2 years in our freighter was hit, again, my name had me snatched up from the wreckage, even though I was an engineer. Wasn’t that bad, past the first couple months…”

Again Bilbo’s eyes fell to your shoulder at the stroke of your fingers along the scar, “They did that?”

“Um, the carrier got hit by something, the reactor surged, caught me, but they have uv markers, to brand their prisoners. It’s there, and on the back,” you shook your head, “You don’t need to look at me like that. Staged a coup and stole one of their carriers we managed to get to Numenor. Discharged, with honors outstanding.”

Lowly Gloin said patting your other shoulder, “No doubt in that.”

Bilbo wet his lips, “I only mention, that is, I’m a tattoo artist, if you like we work with uv often, it is fairly easy to cover if it is old.”

“Well it was seven centuries back.”

Bilbo grinned at you, “I’ll leave you my card, we can set up an appointment to think up a design you might like whenever you like. No worries on the cost, we always offer free for jobs like this for former service men and women.”

You nodded and turned to help gather the rest of the odds and ends until you were joining the guys down. Holding the hummingbird carrier with Belly on your shoulder nuzzling against your head to keep calm at his first and last time out of this apartment with you while Kuu tried to sleep riding on the cart in his basket. Through the slot on the locked office wall Bilbo slid the envelope holding the key to your open apartment and joined you all on the walk to the waiting van beside the locked up truck.

In the back of the trunk Kuu was settled while Belly and the carrier were with you in the front seat you buckled into. Into the slot the mix tape was eased and your fingers rose to smooth against your forehead as the first song popped up. For an hour the songs would play and for the embarrassment you had assumed to feel the singing and bouncing Dwarves joined the birds bopping along to ‘Safety Dance’ to start off the long voyage.

There was no time for sentiment, no time to take a lingering stroll through the tiny apartment, not while your mind raced at all you had shared in these past few days. No one had ever asked about your scar before, a stunning fact stinging at you. No one had asked why you were so fine with being alone and living in such cramped quarters, were used to going without. Or how you had grown to be so comfortable with the supposed rougher races who mainly had a lifetime a third of all the others explaining why they would use surrogates from the race of Men every other generation to hopefully extend that precious time they had together. No one had cared to try and help you like this before, and it was highly understated that you were beyond baffled as to how to behave after this.

As fast as you had been moved out your things were moved to the equivalent of the rooms they had been taken from and a call from the owner of the truck had the guys off again. One lingering awed gaze at the greenhouse was what Bilbo got to take with him before managing to slip you his card to come up with your tattoo idea. And with the closing of your forest green door you turned with a grin to Belly with his head cocked on top of one of your trunks only to join you in a giddy hop while you let out an excited squeak.

Through the house you showed the birds then got to assembling their homes again in the greenhouse while they flew around inspecting the arches and domed ceiling praising the home you had found for all of you. From above between glances off the arches they helped to guide you in laying out the planters to better spots. All sharing their eagerness to see how the earth would take their plants once you had moved them from their planters finally. Their swings were next with Belly helping to guide the ropes and swings under them with much more space this time around for their bells and dangling perches. Carefully you helped to resettle the nests for the hummingbirds back in their home they thanked you for then nestled on top of again to nap from their tiring day ensuring their favorite flowers were taking in all the sunlight they could before they had drifted off.

Though on your walk back to the kitchen you paused hearing your doorbell ring. With your head cocked you walked through the house to your front door. Opening it you found Thorin holding Belly’s tape, “Forgot this.”

“You drove all the way back to give me this?”

A moment his lips pursed and he replied, “No.” Your brow inched up and he lifted a bag from his side, “I brought food. It needs to cool, so I thought you might need help unpacking your kitchen?”

“I knew you were up to something.” His brow inched up, “Trying to subtly hide my dishes too high up for me to reach.” Earning an eye roll from him as he walked in easing the door behind himself shut then followed after you to the kitchen. On top of the counter he set the bag and watched you open the trunk you had filled with the things from your kitchen. Cubbies rose slowly and on the counter you set the open topped boxes of food you had pulled from your pantry he helped to take back to your new pantry. “You could have waited on the tape till tomorrow.”

Lowly he rumbled back, “Didn’t feel right. One call and you were just alone. Well, not alone,” his eyes scanned over your face in setting the empty boxes back and joining you in grabbing the next set with cups he followed your lead in where to place them to your liking. “How are they taking it?”

“Well, the hummingbirds are napping, thoroughly exhausted by the whole ordeal,” making him chuckle to himself, “It’s such a big world to them. And the greenhouse is amazing.”

“Yes it is.” His eyes scanned over you again from the side of his gaze.

“Kuu is finding his favorite spots to hide, and Belly is taking a lap over the block.”

Thorin smirked, “No wonder your neighbors seemed to be buzzing. They are rare you know. Hardly ever seen out of captivity due to their status. Where did you find him?”

“Old neighbor bought his egg, wanted to eat him, I told them a lie and bought him. Still trying to perfect my Raven tongue. Bit rough, but I am not the worst student.”

“It is impressive, few other races can master the sounds.”

“Exactly. Part of why he’s patient. Plus Kuu had a talk with him when he was young, I had a hard week and started crying halfway through a lesson. It was bad, worse than bad, but he understands. I tried to get him some raven buddies but apparently I looked a bit shady in the shops or something, wouldn’t let me buy one.”

Thorin chuckled again, “You’re not shady. Few shops sell unless given an event one of their clan are holding. Ravens are meant to bond with their keepers, I am sure you know. To hear you have one,”

“Ya, no doubt I’ll pluck it and eat it.” Making him chuckle again in your move to the silverware trays you eased into their new drawers you left cracked to remember which they were in. “Maybe he can find one or two around here to chat with.”

Thorin chuckled saying, “Perhaps I could bring by my raven, Roac, he loves meeting new birds. Should have heard him the last time a pigeon landed on our balcony.” In a curious glance over you he asked, “You like it here? I mean, you bought it, but, was it what you hoped for?”

“Always liked the Hobbit style, I do have to admit the Dwarf touches too, especially in the greenhouse. Let me guess, something, modern for you.”

With a smirk he turned with you to your round dining/end table you set plates on and slid a pair of trunks over to for seats, “My brother picked the style. It was available. Plenty of rooms for the pair of us, bit cramped with our nephews there.”

“Gloin can’t help there?”

Thorin chuckled, “Trust me, he wants to, but none of us can agree on a place or find a day we’re all off for hunting. Plus the boys have terrible taste.”

Looking in your fridge you said, “Apple juice or cranberry juice?” his brow inched up, “Or I have a water bottle left? Guess I’ll have to shop.”

While he carried the bag of food over he answered, “Apple, please.” You brought him over a small 8 oz bottle of juice deepening his smirk as it nearly vanished inside his fist the same size of your bottle of cranberry juice you set down while you sat down on the trunk behind you. “These are adorable,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I reuse them, get the bigger bottles and pour them in these so I can use the bigger ones for making soaps.”

“Do you need help with furniture?” he said setting out the final container of food noticing your fork being pointed at him.

“I’ve got it, I’ve known you a few days you’ve helped me with a review job, to move and brought me dinner, you do not get to redecorate too. I got it, gotta plan.”

“And how long will that take?”

You shrugged, “Who knows.” Making him roll his eyes next watching you serve yourself from the containers to fill your plate before he did the same.

“Well if you-,”

“Need help, I know, I will contact my local Mug Dealer.”

“I-,” you smirked at him and he rolled his eyes and looked to his plate again. “You must be pleased most of my family is calling me that now.”

“It’s adorable, plus it gives you a bit of mystique to add to your daily life in that shop of yours.”

“So you assume I need mystique in my life?”

“Everyone does,” you said filling your fork, “My main job’s mostly watching other people live their lives from the background. You have no idea how many stories whiz right by you, no doubt having a shop is like that too. People buzz in and out without ever really interacting with you as a person.”

Through your next bite he looked over your face and asked, “Gloin did spill the beans, you work at Findis, do you like it there?”

“It’s nice. I’ve got a nitpicking thing, I’m good at cleaning. Did get bumped up to the top floors so I also do errands and such, within reason of course. But it’s one of the best jobs I’ve had. Now I’m just a stop away from it. How bout you, you like the shop?”

“We opened the shop, it’s our baby. I love the shop. Not the baby sitting hassles from time to time, I have nothing against mothers but the ones who plan poorly taking advantage of those who try to help them, I have little compassion for.”

“I’m not-,”

He shook his head and gave his hand a slight wave in front of his chest after taking a bite of his food, “You are not taking advantage. And if you were I wouldn’t blame you.”

“My past doesn’t forgive being cruel. It demands the opposite.”

“I get that.”

“But thank you for the permission to take advantage of you.” Coughing through swallowing his mouthful he glanced up at you seeing your puffy cheeked grin, a sparing sip of his drink later and you got back to eating talking about possible ideas you could use for filling your empty rooms and companies to help.

Chatting playfully back and forth eventually in your shared history of wishing for castles with hidden hideaways and treasures came to a halt as he said, “I have books on how to build secret doors in bookshelves.”

You lowered your drink and pointed at him making his brows inch up, “I have a secret study!”

Chuckling lowly he asked, “What?”

Up you popped taking hold of his wrist pulling him to his feet excitedly spreading his grin in his trot behind you passing through your bedroom into the hidden study through a hidden door earning another chuckle from him. When you let him go he looked around and stopped to see you pull the door open in the atrium revealing the second hidden door there. “It’s so cool!”

He chuckled again and stepped closer to you only to pause at the alarm sounding on his phone he pulled out. “Oh, wow it’s getting late. Let me help you clean up.” While you turned his hand clenched a moment in realizing just how close to you he had been standing.

Quietly through lingering chuckles you both cleaned up and into the trash can you brought out of another trunk the containers were put while he rinsed the dishes and set them to dry on the rack in the washer. Closing that had him turn to see you flashing him a rapid grin and shift to guide him to the door, through the forest green door you eyed his sporty black car he walked to saying, “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Waves were traded and you closed the door in his lowering into the car. Exhaling slowly you leaned against the door and turned your head to flip the lock feeling the locks inside the door shifting to latch into the frame at several points. “Why does he have to be so amazing?” you sighed out in a push off the door to head to your bedroom to try and get some sleep.

Another kick to your bed case had it expanding to full Troll size in the center of the room with a cushioned head and footboard now fully expanded. Onto the bed you crawled and plopped down hugging your pillow in the softly rising light of the crystal lanterns on the walls that would give off a soft glow through the house so it was never fully dark inside.

A sudden pop up had you also ensuring the garage and back door were locked as well before coming back again to lay across your pillow again. To the sound of Kuu singing a song you fell asleep smiling to yourself in planning the letter you would write to your mother, sisters and Cirdan. Breakfast would come soon enough and after a shower you could start a draft of it all to send off while you ate, surely the first of dozens until you could get the wording right and add pictures of your new home.

Pt 6

A rough sketch of the Dwobbit Home I made up. :)

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shesakillerkween

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

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readysetstarker · 5 years

Note

could I request about king tony stark meets and falls in love with witch peter parker

tbh i love this prompt with a fiery passion, and i spent way too much time trying to plan this out. i still feel like i didn’t do this prompt justice. i might keep it around for a longfic prompt, but we’ll see. i thoroughly enjoyed writing this; fantasy!aus are my LIFE.

Tag list: @heyimstarker, @am-i-spiderman,

—

Tony had never been one to stifle Morgan’s curiosity. He encouraged it, in fact, would always act so proud and enamored by his daughter’s adventures when she recounted them at dinner or while they took a walk through the gardens. He loved watching her eyes light up in excitement as she recounted the wizards she watch perform in the city square or the hurried sketches of animals she drew wandering the city’s border.

He had never thought, not once, to set limits to her curiosity.

At least, not until the night she didn’t come home.

Tony rode out along with six search parties, searched every nook and cranny of the royal capital, sending men and women charging through neighboring towns and villages for any sign of his daughter. Houses were upturned, forest homes were trampled, and Tony was ready to wage war in order to find her. He swore that any person who dared to harm a hair on his child’s head would die slowly and painfully in the middle of the town square, an example made of them.

He reluctantly returned to the castle to rest for a search the next day, but he barely slept. Most of the night was spent pacing about the room until exhaustion finally overtook him, and he was found hunched over his desk the next morning. He startled awake, ready to ride out despite the circles beneath his eyes.

“There won’t be a need for that, sire,” Jarvis, his advisor, assured him. His voice was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the panic in Tony’s head, and it stopped him from rushing out of his bedroom door. “Lady Morgan is standing in the throne room awaiting your presence.”

“Morgan? Is she all right!?” Tony’s fingers dug into Jarvis’s shoulders when he grabbed at the man. “What happened to her? How did she get back?”

“You can ask the young man who escorted her home, sire.” Jarvis patted the back of Tony’s hands, and the king dropped them to his sides. “She’s rather smitten with him, so do be polite when you address him. No threats, as he seems to have taken good care of her.”

Tony got himself ready quickly, pushing away his handmaids when they didn’t shave his stubble off as quickly as he liked. Jarvis helped him dress, a simple crimson waistcoat over a white long sleeve tunic and black pants, and he had to remind Tony to pull his boots on so he didn’t greet a guest at his home barefoot. Tony couldn’t have cared less about his state of dress when it came to taking his daughter back from a stranger, but he knew that his appearance would be harshly scrutinized by his court otherwise.

He pushed his hair back and hoped the dark circles beneath his eyes weren’t too obvious. Jarvis gave him one quick glance-over before nodding his approval and holding open the door to the throne room for Tony.

Morgan, pristine and clean and, most importantly, unharmed spins from where she was talking with her nanny. The only indication she had been in trouble was a series of rips in the skirt of her dress, which was already being inspected by the older woman under Tony’s hire. Morgan’s pretty brown eyes lit up when she saw her father, and Tony couldn’t have cared less about his image as he dashed to meet her halfway, falling to his knees as she threw her little arms around his neck.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed into her neck, petting her hair and kissing her cheek. “Baby, I was so scared you were gone. What happened, where did you go?”

His tone was just a touch too harsh. When he pulled her away to arm’s length, her lip was trembling and her eyes were bright and wet.

“I was playing hide and seek with Harley, and I got lost,” she said, sniffling and blinking fat tears down her cheeks. Tony’s hands, shaking with a rush of adrenaline and relief, are gentle when he wipes them away. “There were wolves, and I tried to run away but I ripped up my dress. I’m so sorry, daddy.”

“Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Tony pulled her to him again and squeezed her tight. “I’m not mad, and you’re not in trouble. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Quiet murmurs passed through the crowd around him as he held his child. He could hear some women tittering about what a caring father he was, about how gentle and loving he was with Morgan. One woman, just a little too loudly, wondered how he could benefit if she gave Morgan her attention when Tony was too busy running his kingdom.

Tony pushed those kinds of comments away from the forefront of his mind and focused instead on the girl in his arms. He wasn’t interested in remarrying after his previous wife left him. Morgan didn’t need anyone else in her life.

As he kissed her forehead for maybe the sixth time, a figure stepped close, and Tony glanced up at them from over the top of his daughter’s head. A young man with chestnut curls and matching eyes bowed his head reverently, a small smile pulling at his lips. He was dressed in a light brown tunic opened low on his chest, dark green pants, and brown shoes so worn that Tony couldn’t see the soles in them. His fingers had smudges of dirt on them, and a browning maple leaf was tucked neatly behind his left ear. A worn leather satchel hung from his shoulder and down to his hip, looking fat with items underneath its flap.

Morgan pulled away from her father and stepped back to gesture widely to the young man. “This is Peter! He helped me when I got lost and drove the wolves away.”

“I’m sorry for keeping her so long, Your Grace,” he said. There was a musical lilt to his voice, sweet to Tony’s ears as he looked the king fearlessly in the eyes. “She was injured while trying to flee the wolves, and I didn’t want to return her to you in that state. I kept her long enough to heal her injuries before bringing her home.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by an excited Morgan jumping up and taking Peter’s hand. “Pete, Pete, do that thing you showed me last night! The magic trick!”

Peter looked bashfully at Tony, then Morgan, before conceding to her begging. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small cloth bag, and from that he pulled out a small seed. Morgan giggled excitedly as Peter set it in his palm and covered it with his other hand. A few twists of his wrist and when he pulled his hands apart—

Shock widened Tony’s eyes as he stared at a bright red, fully-ripened apple now sitting in Peter’s open hand. He offered it to Tony, who took it to a chorus of gasps from his court. They were silenced immediately by Morgan’s excited clapping.

“It’s so amazing!” Morgan gushed as Tony turned the fresh fruit over in his hands. “He did that with my knee, too! It’s all healed up!” She yanked her skirts up to show off her healed knee, and her nanny rushed over to pull the young girl’s skirts down again. Still, if there had been any sign of injury on his baby, Tony didn’t see it. And Morgan would never lie in order to raise the social status of a complete stranger.

Peter’s cheeks burned pink as he averted his gaze to the floor. His teeth hid a proud smile as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. Tony’s fingers tightened around the smooth red skin of the fruit in his hands, and he had to keep himself from turning it into pulp between his fingers.

“Well, Peter,” he said, “are you looking for a steady line of work?”

—

Despite criticism for harboring a witch in his court, Tony found that Peter brought with him a sense of peace to the servants that worked and lived there. Sure, he kept Morgan entertained with his endless magic tricks and ears that never seemed to tire of her stories (all past-lived or fictitious), but he always seemed to look out for Tony.

That trick of growing fruits from their seeds came in handy when Tony’s stomach growled just before a meeting with a potential paramour. Morgan needed a mother, a caretaker, and Tony had a duty to give his country someone to rule with him. Even if he did find himself yawning and rolling his eyes at each doe-eyed woman who came through to try and catch his fancy. Each mumbled comment earned him a chuckle or smothered smile from the witch at his side.

Morgan’s opinion was just as important as his, and the young girl accompanied him to each meeting. She would curtsy and greet each woman politely, just as Tony and her nanny had taught her, but no matter how much the women talked to her, she always made her way back to Peter, clinging to his tunic or sitting at his feet and purposely looking very bored with them.

Peter entertained her while Tony tried to build a connection with each potential partner he met. And Tony, despite his best efforts, found his gaze going back to the young man playing with his daughter, whose face brightened every time Peter managed to produce a flower from behind her ear.

Tony hadn’t even realized he’d been staring for so long until the woman who had wrapped herself around his arm gave him a tug, bringing his eyes back to her.

“Are you even listening to me?” she asked, offense hanging off every word.

Tony looked at her, then back to Peter, who was now watching him from across the way while his hands created fairy lights for Morgan to play with. His eyes blazed trails up Tony’s body, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. That pretty pink blush, something Tony had come to appreciate over the past weeks, colored his cheeks, and he returned his focus to Morgan’s entertainment.

Another tug at his arm, and Tony couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“I mean no offense, madame,” he said, easily peeling her fingers from his arm. “But it seems someone else has my attention this evening.”

—

The taste of cinnamon, ripe-sweet apples, and rum sat on Tony’s tongue when he pulled the young witch close to him, knees locked on each side of his lap as the witch grabbed at him with strong hands. He hadn’t expected any of this, of the young magic-user clinging to him in desperation as he rolled his hips down against Tony’s.

He should have seen it sooner, if he as being honest. Peter was Morgan’s favorite person, directly after her father, the person who looked after her when Tony couldn’t and kept her excitable mind quiet during court sessions. He had protected her when Tony couldn’t, held her when Tony’s attention was forced to the throne. He looked after her and loved her, and Tony couldn’t have asked for more from a partner.

It made sense, right? It made sense to him, when he curled his arms around the lithe frame in his lap and skated fingers across smooth and soft skin.

“Your Grace,” Peter moaned against his lips, almost purring into his mouth when Tony squeezed his thighs and kissed him. “Tony, please.”

“What is it you want, my little witch?” Tony asked, and he relished the shiver that ran through Peter’s body at his words, at the subtle brush of their lips. “Tell me, and I’ll drown you in your desires.”

“You.” Peter’s fingers were gentle against the prickly stubble on his jaw, and the young man’s lips pressed tenderly to his. “You and only you.”

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #my work #this was so much fun #i love fantasy aus ;A;#Anonymous

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lonelypond · 4 years

Text

Soldier Game: Operation LA Smile, Ch. 3

NicoMaki, Love Live, 4K, 3/?

Nico shouldn’t be nervous. It was her party. Her idea. Her reminder that whatever else was going on in the universe, whatever unappreciative individuals might think of Nico’s charm and abilities, Yazawa Nico could always draw a crowd. With almost no notice. Take that aloof, rich, redheaded sexcapade. Nico didn’t care. Casual came with the territory. Hearts broken all over the globe.

Kotori had done an amazing job with the panther theme, finding huge, stuffed velvet panthers and leopards to scatter across the rooftop terrace under strings and strings of multicolored fairy lights, small brightness against the stunning Tokyo nightscape. Charged by the atmosphere, Nico twirled under the lights to the amusement of the woman setting up the bar. Nico winked. It was always good to appreciate your audience. She adjusted the bow at the neck of her black and gray glitter clouded leopard pattern sleeveless maxi dress. Kotori had a shiny brown jaguar fabric in a shirt tucked into high gold disco glamour trousers. Nico’s see through black stockings with vine texture added to the wild vibe.

Pretty soon, pretty pretty women were going to be screaming to be let in. Nico wondered when the celebrity guests of honor would arrive and then Kotori stepped out onto the roof, Umi on her arm, in a very elegant and modest little black dress, with a fascinating and subtle open knit texture Nico would have killed to design. What would the boxing redhead show up in, Nico wondered? Some more expensive designer than Nico?

###

Think casual. Last night in Tokyo. Eli smiled and bobbed her head at a young woman who couldn’t decide between approaching Eli or joining the swarm around Nico. Eli was enjoying the breeze, the cool darkness. She’d spent all day in their cramped office, having to deal with various government functionaries who did not believe Eli was official enough for the level of clearance she held. She was looking forward to being in the field, making spur of the moment decisions based on reconnaissance and sitreps. She pushed the sleeves of her loose white blazer up, black cigarette pants, and light blue linen shirt completing the outfit. Feather Smile had dressed like the sizzling hot, shine the spotlight here team they were and Umi had chosen her dress with her usual exquisite attention to detail. Eli smiled and leaned on the bar, “Vodka tonic, please.”

“Yes, miss.”

And then there was Maki. Arriving late, as always. Because it wasn’t a truly fashionable party unil Nishikino Maki arrived. The room practically stopped. No conversation as Maki strode through, brazen, confident, shooting dagger sparks if anyone dared glance her way. Maki pulled entire rooms without even trying and tonight, when she was letting the banked down fire burning in her core light those priceless amethyst eyes, there were actual gasps when she walked into a space for the first time. Eli was expecting something designer, but Maki had opted for gym chic?!!!? And then, Nico gestured at the DJ and a song Eli had almost forgotten came over the speaker system.

“Three, two, one, zero! Here's my intro Please look at me; I'm completely serious My thrilling beauty will win, without fail”

Soldier Game. The silly pop single they’d recorded in high school. Umi seemed surprised but smiled when Kotori giggled. Maki whirled, completely red, glaring at Nico, who dismissed her with an offhand wave and went back to being surrounded by a crushing crowd as the song continued. Maki, arms wrapped around her torso, was slouched behind a panther, nearly obscured, her bold energy burst.

Eli took her drink over, “Want this?”

Maki shook her head, cheeks still reddened.

“That’s a real blast from the past. I keep trying to forget it. Those photoshoots.”

“That tiara dug into my skull. I hate photoshoots.” Maki groaned.

“So this assignment will be fun.”

Maki’s nostrils flared. Eli knew she was biting back an ‘only if l get to shoot someone’ comment and kept the conversation going before Maki totally lost her temper.

“Well, you’ve made an entrance anyway.”

Maki scowled, “Now we do small talk?”

“I’ve had a government bureaucracy runaround kind of a day and I just want to stay off my phone, enjoy a breeze, listen to music, and have a few drinks. In order to do that in peace, I have to first make sure you won’t throw anyone off the roof.”

“What did Umi tell you?” Immediate suspicion.

Eli shrugged.

Maki sounded ready to strangle someone, “Just leave me alone, Eli.”

“Fine.” Eli raised a glass in a toast, “But remember why we’re here.”

“Fine.” Maki shoved past Eli. “I’m going to go be a rich brat.”

And she wasn’t even going to have to try, Eli thought as she downed her drink.

###

Nico was sliding across the floor, new, top tier dance moves, to amuse a set of twins, one with pink streaks, one with purple, both with leopard ears topping their hair.

“Nico Ni always dances her way to ideas. And then once Kotori creates them, Nico dances in them, because if cute girls can’t move and breathe in a Feather Smile design, no one but Nico sees it.”

“Do you get your ideas from concerts...or movies...or celebrities?” Pink Streak asked with a giggle. “Or do you just dream them up?”

“Nico only hangs out with the most stylish....”

“Zookeepers?” Maki asked drily as she leaned over the panther, having fueled her courage with double tequila shots. “”S really not innovative, or…” a shrug and the whole panther moved, “interesting really. The feline as an expression of feline…fury...furry...” she blinked, “I mean female sensuality. Overdone. Copied from cooler…” a pause for frantic blinking, “errors...ermines…”Maki couldn’t find the word and had to settle “years...not even rocker chic,” Maki giggled as Nico felt annoyance start to prick and Maki continued, “scraping rocker bottom chick.”

Nico rolled her eyes, Maki was obviously inebriated. She and the streak twins watched as the redhead stood, swayed, and decided she wasn’t finished

“Unless…” Maki leaned forward again, supported by both arms on the stuffed panther, and only a quick shoulder shove by Nico prevented Pink and Purple Streak from having two panthers sprawled all over them, “you’re into that?”

Pink Streak was closer so Nico grabbed those ears, leaned forward, stuck them firmly in sweaty red hair, whispered, “Do you purr?” and watched in amusement as Maki jumped back, dragging the panther with her, and sprinted for a bar.

###

Eli had spent much of the past three days sharing an office with Tojo Nozomi and the only conclusion she had drawn was that Nozomi, as she’d forced Eli to call her, was an enigma, with little hints of tantalizing layers of....mischief occasionally surfacing in those sea green labyrinth of eyes. Having done her duty as a friend to Maki and provided her temperamental compatriot an opportunity to vent off some steam, Eli found herself wondering where Nozomi was at this event. Not at one of the bars on the terrace, or rubbing up against the nearly five foot tall stuffed panthers like so many of the younger dancers, nor, as far as Eli could see, tucked into a corner conversation somewhere. Maybe she was inside, in one of the cool, dark wood alcoves, staring out at the Tokyo nightscape. This was certainly a view worth the price of one of the hotel’s rooms.

Eli wandered back into the bar. Not as many people clumped here, some masked, because now masks were fashionable. Eli had by now thoroughly reviewed the FeatherSmile dossier. They were one of the first companies to develop a gossamer fabric, diaphanous, like a movie genie’s veil, that still cut the dispersion of droplets. Thanks to Yazawa’s connections and innovative demands, FeatherSmile was often on the leading edge of textile tech. No Nozomi here though, veiled or not.

Eli wandered back out, to the high ceilinged open terrace, casually grabbing a handful of chocolate eclairs and macarons, and there was Nozomi, legs pulled up underneath her, in a very formal navy business suit, a floral shirt her only concession to the non office setting, sitting in the very middle of things, on something that in the very middle of furniture and sculpture

Eli, hands full of chocolate, slid in next to her, “You still look like you’re at the office.”

Nozomi smiled, “I am still on the job.”

“What is your job?” Eli couldn’t help it. She was usually good at figuring people out, at knowing who to ask for a briefing, at knowing which paperwork would fill in the sketch of a briefing, but Nozomi, for all that she looked a proper, mid-level bureaucrat, had none of the mid-level bureaucrat paper trail attached to her name or office, which made Eli think there was more going on here than a simple tourist jaunt covering for a drop off.

Nozomi shrugged, “I manage people.”

Another veronica, swing the distracting cape of an answer. Eli bit into a meltingly amazing pastry to consider the next tack to take.

“Ever been to America?”

“Yes. You?”

Eli ate the final, exquisite bite, “I haven’t spent as much time there as Maki. Family business kept me mainly in Russia or Tokyo.”

“Yes, it’s a very unique nexus you three represent: Japan, America, and Russia. Must have been an interesting high school.”

Eli laughed, “It was. I was student council president.”

As if cued, another Soldier Game song played.

“And the high school idol’ing?”

Eli sighed. No more chocolate left. And this was the topic.

Nozomi leaned forward a little, almost touching Eli’s knee, “Sorry, was that too personal? Something you want to forget?”

“No. It’s pretty common knowledge, although most people don’t know the backstory.”

“Backstory?”

“Maki’s drive to compose, Umi’s need to express herself in lyrics, my….”

Nozomi gave off a calming aura, encouraging Eli to talk. This wasn’t top secret info. Nothing was really stopping Eli from sharing. It was just a part of her past she preferred to…

Nozomi had waved a waiter over to break the tension, “Shirley Temple, please. Eli?”

“Vodka tonic.”

“Of course.” The waiter bowed.

“Sorry to push you. We can talk about the lovely view if you’d rather?” There was that mischief as Nozomi’s eyes met hers, and Nozomi giggled. “Or you can tell me if Maki always gets this drunk.”

“Only on tequila.”

“And you?”

“Never on tequila.” Eli laughed and leaned back against a concrete pillar, “I could never crack the upper echelon of Russian ballet schools. So I had something to prove.”

“Ah.”

Eli heard a confirmation in the ‘ah.” So Nozomi had already looked up the story. No real connection here. Price of doing business. Everyone knows more than they say and still fillets you for information. Confirm, look for weaknesses, memorize flaws. Eli suddenly felt worn.

“I’d better check in with Umi.” Eli stood, “I’ll see you on the plane tomorrow.”

Nozomi half rose, startled, but then settled back down, hands composed in her lap, “Of course. I hope you get some rest, Eli.”

Eli’s name sounded flat as Nozomi said it, but Eli still smiled and returned the courtesy, “I hope you can manage some off the job time.”

Nozomi shrugged. Eli turned away. Chocolate first, then Umi, then sleep. It had been too long a day.

###

Maki glared, then threw back the tequila shot she’d been carrying. Florrie’s ‘Begging Me’ was echoing and she wondered exactly how much control Nico had exerted over the DJ’s playlist. Long Island Iced Tea next, this was a Long Island Iced Tea night.

She marched up to the bartender, demanded the drink, took the bare minimum amount of time to drink it down through a cold metal straw, lips nearly frozen. A little buzzy, a little daring, feeling the need to just…

Everyone not actively chatting up a potential partner in the low lighting, dark wood interior of the bar had spilled out onto the roof, where with no time at all, Feather Smile had set up a sort of prowling fur extravaganza, huge velvet panthers and leopards arrayed in clusters, doubling as seating, people leaning or riding on them, a bar at either end of the terrace. The lights of Tokyo were everywhere there weren’t stars or fairy lights and Maki took a deep breath, trying to just check out of the party scene and let the lights and movement scatter her looping thoughts. It was usually a very solid escape plan, but just as her shoulders relaxed, someone giggled, “Oh, Nico, that tickles” and Maki spun to see Nico leaning over a woman leaning back into a velvet black panther, the woman’s shirt off, her see through black lace bra shimmering darkly. Nico had a metallic pen and finished off her signature with a flourish. And a kiss on the fabric to seal it.

Another giggle. And something whispered. And Nico leaning over the woman to whisper a reply. Maki headed back to the bartender who’d done her marginally satisfying Long Island Ice Tea.

“Make it better this time or I’ll make sure you’re fired.” Maki snapped.

The bartender bowed, “Of course. I’m so sorry the last one was not satisfying.”

“More tequila.”

Umi’s voice cut in, “Whatever she’s having, make it with less tequila. Cute ears by the way.”

Maki reached up and ripped the Nico tainted accessory out of her hair.

Umi leaned on the bar, shaking her head at Maki. “You have to stop getting random staffers fired. People won’t like you.”

“People,” Maki couldn’t help that her glance went to Nico, “Don’t like me now.”

Nico had her arms around a woman’s waist and they were swaying to music that was too sexy to be swaying to in public. Maki pushed herself off the bar, but Umi caught her arm.

“Weapons.” Umi demanded.

Maki waved her hands down the length of her torso. Her side slashed, short, armless tunic covering a sports bra, offered a view of her torso that showed no hidden armament. Her form fitting shorts also proved that there was nothing unnatural about any of the curves the fabric was clinging to. “I just want to dance.”

Visual check cleared, Umi offered Maki the terrace, “Enjoy.”

Maki’s eyes burned with fierce intensity, ‘I plan to.”

And a mellow song, Surf Mesa’s "ILY", rolled but there was nothing mellow about the way Maki walked into the center of the terrace, threw out her arms, closed her eyes, and started mouthing “I love you, baby” as Emilie did, arms raising, wrists crossed over each other, muscle pulses so tight that it seemed like her whole torso was throbbing as she circled her abdomen, thrusting her hips incrementally forward, flexing her knees to crouch down to bounce up, tossing her hair back in near slow motion and red strands flamed in the pattern of flashes that suddenly surrounded her as everyone pulled out their phone, images of Maki lost in a blur, not captive, as the Tokyo nightscape provided a brilliant, blinding backdrop.

###

Nico did not like the speculative, predatory look in Kotori’s eye. She was very familiar with it and they had a strict first seen, first claimed agreement that Nico’s boxing ring encounter with Maki certainly would have invoked but Nico did not want to be so open about her...there was no right word..interest, annoyance, remembering her most recent encounter with Maki, Nico laughed at herself and decided animal attraction was probably the truest.

With so much attention on Maki and the terrace full of dark patches, Nico and Kotori had found a moment to meet. Kotori was leaning into her elbows, watching Maki, idly twisting the straw in her drink.

“Don’t you have a very stylish samurai stashed somewhere?” Nico decided on a diversionary tactic.

Nico knew her partner very well. Kotori turned away from watching Maki, with a squeal, “Did you see that dress, Nico? And the texture, exquisite, I couldn’t rip my hands away. I just want to take it off her so I can see how they did that open knit.”

Nico leaned into obvious, with a snort, “That’s not the only reason.”

Kotori arched an eyebrow, “I never discuss proprietary tactics, Nico.”

Nico chuckled, ‘Well, there seem to be a few other people interested in that…” Nico paused and pointed over her shoulder to where Umi was walled off by a crowd of women fascinated by the most inscrutable member of Soldier Game, now that Maki had decided to dry heave near a plant, “dress.”

Kotori’s lips twisted and anger flared briefly in now cold golden eyes, “I’ll see if Umi-chan wants to sit and sip some champagne.”

Nico was watching Maki run shaky fingers through her hair and slap herself on the cheeks. “And I’ll get the dancing started up again.”

###

Eli leaving had left Nozomi unsettled. So she took her Shirley Temple in hand and decided to roam. Her first target, Nico, who was once again somehow not being crushed by a crowd of young women demanding Nico sign their bras with her private contact info. Nico’s flirt style was an art, all wink and dash, never lingering, but always making a connection. Eager, thirsty eyes followed her everywhere. Nozomi was impressed by the range of her charisma and how professionally in stride Nico took the adoration.

“Care to sign something a little less personal for me?” Nozomi asked when Nico spun into her zone.

Nico demurred. “Nico always needs a treat.” A completely outrageous wink as Nico moved to the next young woman, who had unbuttoned her blouse, exposing ample curves that almost escaped their lacy lilac support, “Hi. Nico Ni wants to know. What’s your name and favorite color?”

“Oki and Green.” The blonde woman flushed as Nico let the pen linger a little.

“Nico will design a holiday set to showcase these memorable curves.” NIco finished her signature with a flourish, “Look for it. Nico thinks Santa will bring a good girl like you, Oki, a very special set.”

“Don’t talk about Santa like that.” An angry voice interrupted.

“Maki! We haven’t had a chance to talk all night.” Nozomi stepped in, trying to divert Maki and guide her away by the elbow, but the riled up heiress brushed off any restraint.

Maki had one target in her laser focused sights. Nico. “Don’t use Santa as a shill for your lingerie.”

Nico winked at the blonde, before answering Maki, “Nico got all her elf paperwork in on time last year. Completely certified to deliver North Pole approved presents. Ask half of Tokyo.”

“Ask Santa.” Maki’s fist were clenched. Nico had no idea why she was in the middle of a fight about two beloved holiday traditions, Santa Claus and FeatherSmile’s Christmas Cuddle lingerie line, but Maki had once again impulsively shoved them both into something unexpected.

“Okay, Nico will.” Nico took her pen and started to write a note on her arm, but Maki grabbed the pen and wrote a number on Nico’s arm as she spoke.

“Text me when he tells you you’re officially on the naughty list.” Maki snorted, “I want to laugh at you.”

This was an incredibly strange way to get the number of the hot, crazy girl she’d already had sex with. But Nico could roll with anything. That was her real superpower. And why she was so good at ALL of her jobs.

But before Nico could retort, Nozomi took the pen and wrote a number under Maki’s on Nico’s arm, “Text me too.”

The blonde giggled. Nozomi smirked at her, and leaned down to whisper, “I’d like to see green on you. Can I get you a drink? I have a Christmas at the South Pole story that you’ll never forget.”

And that left Nico with the glaring Maki. The crowd had been repelled by the waves of fury rolling off Maki. Nico sighed, “What are we really fighting about?”

“Santa.” Maki said stubbornly.

“It’s June, Nico loves Christmas, but Nico was planning to think about the beach and bikinis for at least a week.”

Maki crossed her arms over her torso as another Soldier Game song came over the speakers. “Did you have to play them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“People expect it.” Nico listened for a verse, “Plus, they’re catchy. You sound good. You wrote the music, right?”

“Composed.”

“Wrote, composed…”

Maki leaned very much into Nico’s face, blinking, “Sewed, painted, same thing, right?”

“Fine. Nico will use the right words. Do you still compose?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Nico opened her arms to the room, “Nico has adoring fans eager for a few minutes of her time and your minutes,” Nico glanced at her watch, “are up.”

Maki pulled back. “I don’t want to talk.”

Nico stepped close, and could feel Maki tense at the proximity, “Well, Nico does have a suite reserved if you really need some…”

“Stop.” Maki’s hands shot out, Nico guessed to push Nico away, but they just lingered on her shoulders.

“Well, if you want to dance, Nico never disappoints a pretty lady.” And Nico dropped both hands to Maki’s waist, pulling her in, and starting to sway as the tempo of the music slowed. Maki shadowed the motion, her eyes closing, for a minute and then she froze, eyes wide open, looking down at Nico in horror.

“Um...why...no…I have to…”

“Run?” Nico suggested, her tone teasing.

Maki’s wry smile, full of unguarded charm, was a change of mood more surprising than anything that had happened to Nico so far, “How’d you guess?”

Nico was getting intrigued. This wasn’t the plan. But Nico always had a stock answer, “Nico knows.”

“Santa knows. Nico fakes it.” Almost a playful growl.

“Still on Santa? Did I mention June?” Nico decided to pull Maki close enough that their hips were bumping. “And nothing Nico does is faked.” Nico dropped her voice, closing in on Maki’s ear, “Don’t you remember?”

Full, complete flush. WIld blinking. Nico had a sudden inspiration and released Maki’s waist. “Thanks for your number. Nico might call you, if you’re lucky,”

With a frustrated growl, Maki suddenly had both hands in her own hair, rough tearing it, and Nico wanted to feel the texture so bad it took enormous physical effort to hold her hands back. Then Maki was standing straight again, so tall, slashed tunic showing muscle and tan and curves, a sexy dream fuel snarl mouthing words that took Nico a few seconds to actually register the foreignness of, “Da parte mia, ritengo che sia meglio essere avventurosi che cauti, perché la fortuna è una donna.”

Was that Italian? How many languages did Maki speak? Nico decided she needed less homework not more as Maki walked away from her, a tequila induced sway threatening to tilt her into a bystander.

####

Hanayo glanced away from the FeatherSmile party livestream. If she’d been there, she would have been a mouse in a quiet corner. She couldn’t hear anything but the music but the party was still almost as engaging as a good Korean drama. Hanayo enjoyed watching the women move in and out of conversation groups, dancing, leaning into close, cozy chats that Hanayo could imagine might result in even cozier conversations. Nico was a blur of motion and charisma, Kotori cool and calm and centered as she glided everywhere, from woman to woman, a quick kiss on so many cheeks, a sly smile when no one was looking but the camera. Hanayo wondered what it would be like to be in the same room with them.

She glanced at the small chat window on her business phone. Her agricultural contacts wanted an in person meeting coinciding with her FeatherSmile obligations. She opened a text window on her laptop. Nozomi had warned her about something like this happening.

A/N: The Italian is a quote from Machiavelli: "For my part I consider that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is a woman."Hi.

#Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #bodyguard au #Tojo Nozomi #Ayase Eli #NicoMaki #NozoEli #KotoUmi #Sonoda Umi #Minami Kotori #Koizumi Hanayo #Soldier Game

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a-daydreamers-stories · 5 years

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~So this is the last part of Hate me right! I’m sorry it took me so long! My work has been short-staffed so I have been working almost 7 days a week and it makes me sad to finish this story too. This part is really long so I will be putting a keep reading in it this time.~

Chapter 11

Reader’s POV

~A year later~

After the initial shock wore off everyone was very both happy for us and terrified by us. Our arguing had taken on a playful tone and as Juice described it we had “disgusting tactics” to win them. Which was just us trying to distract the other one by doing something sexy and that led to rough and angry sex.

It had been an interesting year and honestly, I couldn’t have been happier. Happy had truly been amazing, we understood and were comfortable with each other. Happy moved in after 3 months, he’d practically been living with me anyways, but he insisted it was because he wanted to make sure I was protected. He didn’t exactly talk to me about it beforehand either, just showed up one day with the rest of his stuff, which caused me to laugh at him so hard that I started crying. I was currently laying in bed watching tv while Happy was sketching beside me.

“What ya working on?” I scooted closer, attempting to see when he shut the sketchbook and smirked.

“Surprise.” He said simply.

“For me or one of your brothers?” I pouted slightly. He hated showing me his work before it was finished but I always loved watching him sketch.

“Have you asked for a new tattoo?” Happy asked, raising an eyebrow at me. He had designed a few for me since we officially got together. Having Happy give me a tattoo was one of the most erotic things to ever happen to me and each time I was left a soaked mess.

“Can I ask for one now?” I smirked and moved his sketchbook onto the nightstand so I could straddle him.

“Why?” He smirked and nipped at my lower lip.

“Because…” I smiled.

“Because it makes you horny when I tattoo you?” He chuckled and brushed my hair back away from my neck.

“Maybe…” My breath hitched as his lips brushed over my neck.

“Maybe?” Happy laughed. “When I tattooed your thigh, I had to pause just to eat you out because you were so soaked and squirming.”

“Not my fault,” I said and smiled as his fingers trailed up my back. “You’re just so damn hot and being that close to my pussy…”

“You’re impossible.” Happy smirked and sucked hard on the soft spot on my neck.

“Mmm… but you love me.” I moaned and grinded against him.

“So fucking much.” Happy groaned softly and his lips moved down to the collar of my shirt. “Thought we agreed that clothes are outlawed in the bedroom.”

“You said that but then you continued to wear boxers so I figured that law was revoked.” I giggled.

“I’m bringing it back.” He growled and took my shirt off, his hands going up to cup my breasts.

“Then take your fucking boxers off,” I smirked and pushed him back against the headboard roughly. “Now…”

“So fucking bossy.” Happy grabbed my hips and rolled us over so he was on top. “Did you forget that I’m the boss?”

“I know you’re the boss, daddy.” I batted my eyelashes at him innocently.

“Then why are you giving me orders?” Happy smirked and leaned down to kiss my neck roughly. I moaned and moved my head to give him better access which he took full advantage of and bit playfully. “Tell daddy you’re sorry…”

“I’m sorry, daddy…” I moaned loudly as he bit the other side.

“Hmmm… I think you’re just saying that.” Happy smirked against my skin.

“Daddy…” I whined in frustration as Happy grinded against me, his boxers still on. “Please! I’m sorry, daddy!”

“Mmmm… good girl.” Happy lifted his head up and looked down at me with a smirk. “Now, ask me nicely to take my boxers off.”

“Take your boxers off…” I started sweetly, smiling up at him. “And please fuck me hard.”

“Good girl…” Happy smirked and quickly pushed his boxers down. He thrust into me hard and quick, filling me completely and I gasped loudly. My hands wrapped around him, nails digging into his back as he started moving in and out of me.

“Fuck!” I moaned as he growled lowly, his head moving down to my neck. He marked me, roughly, showing me exactly who was the boss.

“My… good… girl…” He growled out with each hard thrust, pulling his head back to look at his work. One hand gripped the headboard and the other wrapped itself around my throat. Our eyes locked with each other and I smiled as his fingers squeezed, I trusted Happy completely, he was the love of my life.

Happy pushed us closer and closer to our orgasms, gently applying more pressure as we started growing closer. My nails dug into his back, leaving my own marks on him. RING! RING! RING! Happy’s simple ringtone cuts through the air and I nearly sobbed as he stopped moving.

“Happy…” I whined as he leaned over and grabbed his phone.

“Shhh…” Happy smirked as he let go of my throat, he winked down at me as he answered. “What?”

“Hap…” I tried to wiggle under him and he let out a warning growl before slamming into me harshly. I moaned loudly before burying my face in his neck, he started a slow and hard pace as he talked on the phone to whoever. I honestly didn’t care at this point, my eyes closed while I bit and sucked on his neck as he slowly built me back up to the orgasm I should have had. I bit down on a sensitive spot on Happy’s neck and he paused inside of me for a second.

“Fuck…. Baby…” Happy growled loudly as he started moving faster, completely forgetting that he was on the phone.

“Hap!? What the fuck are you doing!? ARE YOU TWO DOING YOUR DISGUSTING TACTICS!?” I could hear a high pitched Juice voice come through the phone.

“You fucking called me when I’m at home with my girl! What the fuck did you expect!?” Happy snapped into the phone and hit a spot inside me that sent me straight over the edge, moaning Happy’s name loudly as I came undone.

“Tell him to get off the fucking phone.” I moaned before rolling us over so I was riding Happy.

“Juice you have 5 seconds to spit out what the fuck you wanted before I hang up.” Happy growled into the phone as I rolled my hips. I didn’t hear what Juice said as I started riding Happy. “Fuck… give me 10 minutes, possibly 15.”

He hung up and threw the phone before grabbing my hips and thrusting up into me hard. I gasped and put my hands on his chest as I met his thrusts, building towards another orgasm. I knew he was getting close as his breathing became erratic and his thrusts grew sloppy.

“Fuck… I’m so close…” I moaned loudly.

“Cum for me, baby girl.” Happy growled up at me before leaning up and taking one of my nipples in his mouth and sucking hard. I came apart as soon as he did and Happy followed soon after. We rode out our orgasms together before I laid down on his chest. Both of us panting hard as Happy’s hand moved up to stroke my hair.

“Do you have to go?” I pouted and he chuckled.

“I’ll be back soon, Clay wants Juice and I to go check on a few things.” Happy tilted my chin up and kissed me softly. “You better still be naked when I get back.”

“Mmm… of course, clothes are outlawed.” I giggled. Happy chuckled and kissed me again before rolling us over so I was laying on the bed.

“Rest up…” Happy smirked before playfully biting my lower lip, he stood up and got dressed. “When I get back we’re going a few more rounds.”

“Looking forward to it,” I smiled and cuddled further into bed, my eyes closing. I felt Happy’s lips against my forehead before he left. I slept for a while before being drawn out of my sleep, Happy was at his dresser. His back was turned to me and in the moonlight, I could see he was holding his side. I sat up and frowned as I saw the blood covering his shirt. “Hap…”

“Go back to sleep, baby girl.” He said softly as he peeled his shirt off.

“You’re hurt.” I got out of bed and came over to him. Gently turning him to face me, he smiled down at me and put his hand over mine before I could touch the huge gash along his stomach.

“Just a graze, baby. Go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.” Happy lifted my fingers and kissed them softly.

“A graze!? Hap, you’re going to need stitches!” I looked at him with wide eyes.

“I got it.” Happy said and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Get that pretty little ass in bed.”

“Happy, I’m not going to bed. Sit your ass down now!” I told him an edge coming into my tone. He looked at me for a second before sitting down at the end of the bed. I went to the bathroom and grabbed out the first aid kit that Happy had and a rag before I came back, getting out all the supplies I would need.

“Baby girl, you don’t have to do this.” He said and I glared up at him.

“Let me fucking take care of you, god damn moron,” I grumbled the last part as I grabbed the rubbing alcohol. Drenching the rag in it before I started cleaning Happy’s wound. He hissed slightly as I was probably a little rougher then I should have been but I was so pissed at the dumb fucker right this second.

“Baby girl…” Happy started but I shook my head.

“No, don’t start. We have been together for a year now and I thought…” Tears came to my eyes. “I thought we were past the stage where you didn’t trust me.”

“Trust you?” Happy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Baby girl, you know I can’t tell you about club business.”

“I’m not talking about that Happy!” I snapped and cleaned the rest of the blood away before grabbing the needle and thread. He grabbed my wrists and shook his head.

“Before you start stabbing me when you’re mad… why don’t you explain what you mean.” Happy said.

“Trying to send me back to bed while you patch yourself up? That screams how much you don’t trust me to take care of you, to be there for you even after everything we’ve been through.” I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling, admitting that hurt so fucking bad. “Am I not good enough to take care of you?”

“Baby girl…” Happy said softly and cupped my cheek, his thumb gently. “I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”

“Then why not let me help?” I asked.

“Because I don’t like you seeing me hurt. I don’t like you seeing me weak…” Happy said.

“Hap… you are sitting here with a huge gash in your stomach, talking to me, and not even flinching. You are the strongest person I have ever met.” I leaned up and kissed him softly. “Let me patch you up.”

“Okay, baby girl.” Happy smiled softly and released my cheek and wrist. Leaning back slightly to allow me to start stitching him up. I was almost finished when I accidentally leaned against the bulge in Happy’s pants. I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

“How the hell are you turned on right now?” I asked.

“Same way you get turned on when I tattoo you.” Happy smirked.

“No, not the same way. You gave me a tattoo is not the same as me stitching you up.” I said.

“I have a gorgeous naked woman in between my legs, patching me up… How could I not want to fuck you into next week?” Happy growled the last part, making me wet.

“I’m guessing making you take pain meds and putting you to bed isn’t an option?” I smirked.

“You better finish or I’m going to take you before you do.” Happy growled and I giggled before finishing up the last few stitches. As soon as I had the kit on the ground, Happy picked me up and placed me on his lap. “Mmmm… I’m injured, you’re going to need to ride me.”

“Oh, of course…” I smirked before kissing Happy hard.

~2 weeks later~

God, I was fucking miserable. Happy and I were never going to get Chinese food again, never ever again, I thought as I puked my guts out. Happy had already gone to work and honestly, I was extremely grateful for that, not wanting him to see me like this. I rested my head on my arm and groaned, maybe I should call him and see how he’s feeling. He must be miserable if he’s at the clubhouse with food poisoning, I pulled out my phone and clicked on Happy’s icon.

“Hey, baby girl. It’s your day off, what ya calling for?” Happy asked.

“I was just checking on you, see how you’re feeling,” I told him.

“How I’m feeling?” Happy asked.

“Yeah, figured you were probably miserable at the clubhouse,” I told him.

“Well, I mean I’d rather be buried inside of you right now but nothing I’m not used to.” Happy admitted in a slightly confused tone.

“So you’re not feeling sick?” I asked, confused.

“No… Wait are you sick, baby girl? Do you want me to send the prospect over?” Happy asked in concern.

“No…” My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Nah, just have a bit of a stomach ache. I thought it might have been the food from last night, I’m just going to make up some soup and lie down.”

“Okay, baby girl. If you need anything, call me.” Happy told me in a serious tone.

“I got it, I’ll be fine. Might go to the store to get some ginger ale.” I told him.

“I can just send the prospect, baby girl. No need for you to leave.” Happy said.

“No, no… I’ll be okay. I can handle going to the store.” I told him. “No need to bother the prospect.”

“Fine… I love you.” Happy said.

“I love you too.” I hung up and sighed. I sat back against the tub while Sammy came and laid his head in my lap, I stroked his head while I thought over why I was sick and Happy wasn’t. Maybe I should go see a doctor, I thought before pulling myself off of the ground.

I didn’t want Happy to worry, he had been very concerned ever since I got into the car accident. I loved the man but I didn’t need a babysitter at the doctor’s office. I put my hair in a messy bun and changed out of my PJs, putting on jeans and one of Happy’s plaids before heading out of the house. I went to my doctor’s office and filled out the paperwork before waiting for the nurse to call me in. I didn’t have to wait long, being a friend of the club’s made things move fast but being a son’s girl… being Happy’s girl, that made things move at lightning speed.

Normally, I’d roll my eyes and deny the special treatment but I hated having to go to the doctor’s and didn’t mind getting out of here as fast as possible. The nurse came out a few minutes later and called my name before leading me back to a room. She checked my vitals and wrote down my symptoms before leaving the room. A few minutes later, a doctor came in and started asking me questions.

“When did these symptoms start?” She asked.

“Well the puking started this morning but after thinking about it, I’ve realized that I’ve been feeling funky for a few days now,” I admitted and she nodded before looking over my chart then looking up at me.

“Is it possible that you might be pregnant?” She asked in a soft tone.

“What? Oh… no, no I can’t be pregnant…” I paused and started counting back to the last time I had a period. I had missed this month’s without even realizing it and looked at the doctor with wide eyes.

“I…” I cleared my throat. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to do a test.”

“Okay, we’ll take some blood then get it sent off to the lab. I’ll call you with the results in a day or two and we’ll go from there, okay?” She smiled softly and I nodded. She took some blood and I left, heading back home. Once I was home, I took off my pants and snuggled into bed. Happy came home a while later and made me soup, before cuddling into bed with me.

The next few days, I was a nervous wreck. I didn’t want Happy to know because we had never discussed kids and if it wasn’t true then why worry him about it. Every time my phone went off I jumped and grabbed it as quickly as possible which had Happy watching me closely. I was currently at work, holding my head in my hands and attempting not to throw up when my phone started going off.

“Hello?” I answered nervously before going to shut both doors to the office. I looked out the window to the garage and watched Happy work on a car.

“Hello, Mrs. Y/L/N, this is Dr. Young calling about your test results.” She said and I took in a shaky breath.

“Yes and?”

“And they were positive, congratulations, you’re pregnant.” She said and I nearly dropped the phone. “Mrs?”

“Yes… uh, thank you. Have a nice day.” I mumbled into the phone and hung up. I set the phone on the desk and ran my fingers through my hair as I sat in the chair. Holy… shit… I thought before picking my phone up and calling my OBGYN, setting up an appointment for tomorrow.

Happy’s POV

I had been debating about this for a few months now, spending most of my free time sketching different versions. I had come up with at least five different crows for you each of them were perfect and I could picture any of them on your amazing body which was the issue. I wanted to put them all on you just a whole fucking flock of crows with my name on them.

Something had been wrong the past few days though, you seemed on edge since you got sick. You kept reassuring me that nothing was wrong but I was getting very concerned. Your stomach ache had turned into you throwing up and I was worried about you getting dehydrated. Making sure to keep you drinking water, texting you reminders if I wasn’t with you.

You were in the office right now on the phone to someone and I frowned. That was another thing, you had been treating your phone like a bomb lately. Nervously glancing at it and grabbing it quickly if it rang. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were seeing someone else. We both know that wasn’t true though after everything we went through to get together neither of us would just throw it away.

.I finished off the car and looked as you wrote something down, maybe it was a work call. I waited until you were done before going over and opening the door, you looked a little pale but smiled at me.

“You okay, baby girl?” I asked softly.

“Yeah… I’m fine.” You waved your hand.

“Still feeling sick?” I asked and you nodded. I walked inside the office and shut the door behind me. “Maybe you should set up a doctors appointment?”

“That’s actually what that phone call was about. I… set up an appointment for tomorrow.” You told me.

“Great, what time? I’ll tell Gem we need either the morning or the afternoon off.” I said coming around to your side of the desk. I crouched down in front of you and you shook your head.

“Hap, I can go to the doctors by myself.” You said and leaned down to kiss me softly. I kissed you back before standing up, I picked you up and walked you over to the couch. I sat down with you on my lap.

“I just want to make sure you’re safe,” I told you and you smiled.

“Hap… I’m going to the doctors tomorrow, by myself.” You told me. “I will talk to you about what I find out after, okay?”

“Fine but if it is anything serious, you come here afterward.” I gave you a serious look. “I want to know right away.”

“Happy, I’ll be at home waiting for you tomorrow. Might even cook dinner if I’m feeling up to it.” You smiled and I chuckled before kissing you deeply.

“Why don’t you order us food? Whatever you want, okay?” I said and you nodded in agreement.

“I will have food straight from the take out box waiting for you.” You smiled and I chuckled before sighing.

“Gotta get back to work,” I said and you pouted before kissing me one last time. You got up off my lap and I got off the couch with a groan.

“I love you.” You said.

“I love you too, drink your damn water.” I winked before heading back out to the garage.

“Yeah okay, bossy ass.” You chuckled and I smirked before heading back to the car.

The next day was the longest of my life, waiting for you to either show up or not was killing me. I had wanted to go with you so badly, but you insisted that you wanted to go alone. Your appointment would have been an hour ago now and it was driving me nuts that you hadn’t called or texted yet which meant you weren’t out yet. Why weren’t you out yet? I tried to focus on the car I was working on but fuck was it hard… I quickly pulled my phone out as it started to go off.

“Baby girl?” I asked.

“Hey, Hap. I’m all good, the doc gave me some stuff to take that should make everything better.” You said and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Good… that’s really good, baby girl.” I smiled. “How about I finish up this car and see if Gem will let me out early?”

“That sounds great, let me know if she does and I’ll order us food.” You said.

“Okay, I actually have a surprise for you too.” I had spent the past few days worried sick about you, I’d never spent that much time worrying about anyone besides my ma. I wanted you to be my old lady, I wanted you to be my everything.

“Ooo! A surprise, well I have one for you too.” I could hear the smile in your voice and chuckle.

“I love you and I’ll be home soon,” I said softly.

“I love you too.” You hung up and I went into the office to talk to Gemma.

Reader’s POV

I called the pizza place after Happy texted me that Gemma was going to let him go early. I bit my lower lip and looked at the sonogram picture again. Our baby was just a tiny little blob but it made my heart race, we were going to have a baby. I smiled and giggled as I thought about that. Fuck, Happy and I were two dysfunctional jackasses and we were going to bring a baby into this world. I couldn’t have been more ecstatic about it after the initial shock wore off.

It was going to be one hell of a shock for Happy though and I wasn’t sure if he was going to be okay with it. I tucked the photo away into my jacket pocket and set my jacket on the chair. I started pacing back and forth as I thought about how I was going to tell Happy. I didn’t have time to think about it since the front door opened a few minutes later, I moved to the doorway of the kitchen. Happy came into the living room and smiled at me.

“How ya feeling, baby girl?” Happy asked coming over to me, he kissed me softly.

“I’m feeling better,” I said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I missed you.” Happy smirked before leaning down to nuzzle my neck.

“You miss me or my pussy?” I giggled as I wrapped my arms around him.

“Couldn’t I miss both?” Happy chuckled.

“Mmm… maybe.” I pulled Happy’s head up and kissed him hard. He groaned softly and pushed me gently against the counter. His hands were about to slide under my shirt when someone rang the doorbell, Sammy barked happily while both of us groaned in disappointment.

“Go grab the food, I’m going to get cleaned up before we eat.” Happy smirked before spanking my ass. I yelped and smacked his shoulder.

“Fine! Jackass…” I pouted as I went to the front door, hearing Happy chuckle as he went to our bedroom. I paid for the pizza and brought it back to the kitchen, setting it down on the table. I was lost in thought when two arms wrapped around my waist and pressed me back against a warm, wet chest. “Happy, you’re all wet!”

“I usually say that to you.” Happy nipped at my earlobe.

“Yes… you do.” I smirked.

“Baby girl…” Happy said softly and turned me around to face him. He was just in a towel but he had his sketchbook in his hand. “I want to get your opinion.”

“Oh! On the surprise for one of the boys?” I smiled. “What’s the occasion?”

“Well… how about you take a look first.” He opened the book to a certain page and passed it to me. The 2 pages were filled with 5 different crows, all beautifully designed. What caught my eye was that every crow had Happy’s name etched every design.

“This… These are mine?” I asked, looking up at him in shock.

“Yeah…” Happy shifted on his feet and ran a hand over his head.

“Hap, I love these but I can’t… I can’t take your crow.” I couldn’t get tattooed while pregnant.

“What?” Happy furrowed his brow, “We’ve been together for over a year and I am showing you how much you mean to me, how much this means to me and you can’t take my fucking crow!”

“Hap, I can’t take your crow for 8 or 9 months,” I told him softly, he was angry and I understood. It had just been such a shock that I worded it wrong, I don’t blame him for getting upset.

“What? What the fuck does that mean?” Happy scoffed and I moved over to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him softly.

“Happy… think about the reasons you can’t tattoo a person.” I smiled before gently taking one of his hands and putting it on my stomach. His eyebrows furrowed and he blinked a few times before his eyes got comically large.

“You were… then… and oh…” He breathed out in shock, and then he just kinda stayed there. Not moving, not saying anything, hell… I wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

“Hap?” I gently ran my nails over the back of his neck. When I didn’t get a response, I waved a hand in front of his face. “Happy?”

“I’m… good…” His voice cracked and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, you let me know when that’s true.” I patted his cheek before stepping away from his frozen body. I moved to the table and grabbed a slice of pizza out of the box. I munched on it while I waited for him to move, it took about 5 minutes before I saw him move again. He ran a hand over his head and looked over at me.

“So I don’t care about none of that gender crap.” Happy started while pacing. “I think the nursery should be done in blues and greens. Maybe I could do a mural on one of the walls… something pretty. Something for them to grow up in… shit! Maybe we should get a bigger house first. We’re going to need to get a crib, clothes, oh! Gem is going to want to get them Samcro clothes. God, the guys, and Gem are going to be so excited too, I can already hear fucking Tig and Chibs demanding to be godfathers since they quote "got our crazy asses together.” Also, I am not doing no home birth bullshit, we are going to a hospital with doctors who will keep you and the baby safe…“

"Hap… Happy breathe.” I giggled and stood up. I moved over to him and gently cupping his cheek before kissing his lips softly. He took in a deep breath after I pulled back. “Better?”

“Better,” He nodded.

“Good now, this baby isn’t very big right now.” I took his hand and put it under my shirt, over my belly. “Feel, barley nothing there yet. How about we eat and then we can start discussing the idea of a new house if that’s something you’re really interested in.”

“Okay…” Happy nodded his head, still looking a little dazed. He shook his head before a smile broke out on his face. His hand gently rubbed my stomach before he looked down at it. “We’re going to have a baby…”

“Yes, we are…” I smiled and put my hand over his before kissing him softly. “Now, stop stalling and come eat.”

“Whatever you say, Mami.” Happy winked before pulling back, he patted my ass before sitting down at the table and eating. I smiled as Happy told me about his day, Tig had apparently decided to sleep with some crazy chick who Gemma had to threaten off the property.

“As insane as it sounds… I kinda want Chibs and Tig to be the godfathers. Together, of course, they have to raise the baby together if something happens to us.” I said suddenly and Happy’s eyebrows raised.

“Did you hear what I just said? What part of that made you think Tig is suitable to raise a child?” Happy asked.

“Oh none of that did, but Tig only cares about the things and the people he loves. Tig loved both of us so much he was willing to face your wrath to try and get us together, he loves his girls so much that he’ll take them only seeing him when they need money, he loves the club so much that he’d do anything for it. He’d be a good godparent and Chibs will be the level headed one to reel him back in when he gets out of line.” I explained. “Plus, it’d be a second chance for both of them, one they both deserve.”

“You know… I think they’d both be very excited. Maybe we should invite them over?” Happy suggested.

“I think that’s a great idea.” I smiled brightly. Happy chuckled and called the guys, I was enthusiastic to see their reactions to the news. I took another piece of pizza and waited for Happy to get off his phone.

“They’ll be here soon.” Happy told me after hanging up with Chibs.

“Gemma’s going to be pissed we told them first.” I giggled.

“Yeah, well she’ll be less pissed if we distract her with baby shower details.” Happy shrugged with a smirk on his lips.

“You’re the one telling her that we didn’t tell her first,” I said.

“What? Why?” Happy’s eyes widened.

“I’m pregnant with our baby,” I said as if it was a logical answer. “You need to keep me out of slapping distance.”

“Fine…” Happy groaned and I laughed.

“You’re so dramatic, it’s just Gemma.”

“She’s terrifying!” Happy exclaimed.

“Nah, you’re just a pussy.” I winked and Happy flipped me off. “Love you.”

“Fuck you.” Happy grumbled.

“You already have,” I smirked and Happy rolled his eyes. Two motorcycles came roaring down the street and I threw a napkin at Happy. “Go answer the door.”

“Why can’t you!?” Happy glared playfully at me.

“Because you got me pregnant and the morning sickness is just the beginning,” I smirked.

“This is going to be a long fucking 8 months.” Happy grumbled and got up to answer the door.

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