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elletheactualmenace · 8 months

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Was It Worth It?

Pairing: Bruce Wayne(battinson) x fem!reader

Summary: Missed breakfasts turn into confrontations.

Warnings: Bruce being annoying, Bruce starts trying, short tempers

Word Count: 1.2k

a/n: This ones shorter but I think it’s a good step forward in mending the relationship. Anyways enjoy part 2.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

After that night, you start sleeping in separate rooms. It is lonely, but compared to Bruce’s usual late nights, it wasn’t much different, so you don’t let your mind ponder the lonely feeling too long.

Everything is an unnatural quiet. It’s eerie. The whole building feels fragile, as if you take one wrong step the floor will fall from under you.

The master bedroom is too big for one person, you’ve decided, so you’ve started sleep in one of the many guest bedrooms. The guest room is still large and elegant, but it’s more bearable when you remember that it’s only ever been you sleeping in this bed, not you and Bruce.

You don’t see Bruce as much. Only when crossing paths in the long hallways or during mealtimes. Alfred is trying his best, but there is only so much he can do.

“Good morning Mrs Wayne.” Alfred greets as you walk into the large dining space. Which is now more commonly used for Batman’s cases. “Sleep well?”

You hum and smile politely.

“Yes, thank you Alfred.” You reply as Alfred places down a plate of food in front of you. As always Alfred has been too kind by making your favorite.

“Thank you Alfred.” You smile and so does he.

“Is Bruce coming?” You ask as you dig into your food. You can see Alfred put on a sad smile.

“I’m afraid not,” He says. Bruce has stopped coming to as many meals as he used to. That, at least it used to be, was the one thing you could count on him for. Even if he didn’t eat as much as you’d liked.

“I will go to him later,” Alfred starts heading to the door.

“No, it’s alright,” you say before gently placing down the utensils in your hands. It felt like everything felt delicate. You wouldn’t dare be too harsh with anything. Even if you used to be.

“I will.” You get up and head to Bruce’s place at the table picking up Bruce’s untouched plate. You walk in the direction of the elevator, the only one in the building that goes to the floor the ‘cave’ is on.

“Are you sure Ma’am?” Alfred asks skeptically, stopping you. You pause, think for a moment, turn to him and nod. Before letting out a sharp breath and heading again to the sliding doors of the elevator.

When the doors slide open again on the bottom floor you’re greeted with a cold gust of air. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

You scan the large room looking for Bruce. Your eyes land on him, hunched over his desk, furiously scribbling into his journal. You take slow steps over to him.

“I'm not hungry Alfred.” Bruce states in a gruff voice, before you can make it even five feet from him.

“When are you ever?” You retort, walking forward still. This gets his head up, his figure un-slouched.

“You're here,” The sentence like a seament of disbelief. Bruce turns to look at you, and you see the black makeup still coated on the pale skin around his eyes. He looks a mess, like he did before you came into his life, before he trusted you to be in his life again.

“I'm here.” You say back. You delicately pick up some of the papers on his desk and move them to the side before putting down the plate of food.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, turning his attention to the plate you placed down next to his arm. He begins to hunch over again, annoyingly.

“This is my house too you know,” You comment before pushing the plate towards him.

“Can you eat please?” Bruce looks at the food a little longer before training his eyes back on his jornal.

“Can’t right now.” He says as he begins writing again. You huff and wiggle the plate on the table top to get his attention again.

“Bruce, I'm not doing this. Eat the food. You haven’t eaten anything nutritious for the past almost 3 days.” He keeps writing as he responds.

“Later.”

“‘Later’ means never. You need something over the fruit.” You complain, annoyed and he looks up at you guiltily. He moves back to his writing just as quickly as he changed his attention off of it.

You pluck the pen from his hand and then the Jornal, before tucking both under your arm.

“Eat.” You say pushing the plate even closer towards him.

“I don’t have time.” He says quietly trying to reach for the journal. You give him a pointed look, and for a second you think he's about to argue again. But then after a moment of thought he smiles softly. It’s barely noticeable, but you see it.

Unusual. You think.

“Are you laughing at me, because I'm serious.” You state with a raised brow.

“No- it's just-“ He cuts himself off trying to think, “It’s what you used to do whe-“

“Do not mistake this for forgiveness.” You harshly state, your body getting stiff and angry. You are just trying to make sure he doesn't die, you are not letting him off that easily.

“I am being a good person, not forgiving you. You have to work for that, and not just wallow in self pity and wait for me to feel bad and make it better.” Bruce straightens his back and keeps his eyes focused on the ground.

“Now eat. It’s still my job to make sure you don’t starve yourself.” Bruce slowly picks up the fork, dips it down into his food, and picks it up. He places the piece of egg into his mouth slowly and chews on it reluctantly.

You nod at him to continue and he does as you begin to speak again “After this, go lay down.” Bruce hums in understanding that you are not asking like you were before.

You begin to walk towards the elevator before you stop yourself from going any further. That reaction was harsh even for your situation. You huff out sadly before turning back to Bruce who is chewing still.

“Listen, Bruce,” You start, “I'm not trying to be a bitch.” Bruce's eyes meet yours before he looks away. The eye contact is too much for him so he settles on staring at your top, where the hem of your shirt meets your skin.

“I just- I care about you, and even though im- we’re not on the best terms doesn't mean I’ll stop worrying about you.” You say looking down at the ground with furrowed brows.

“Because, I do. I worry about you.” You admit and Bruce feels so guilty. “Im sorry,” You finish, and Bruce swears a piece of his heart cracks at your defeated stance. You are trying to be strong, and kind and angry all at the same time.

“I'm sorry too.” Bruce says quietly, “And I know I need to work hard for you to forgive me, and I know it will take time. So I'm sorry for being a hassle.”

You both stay like this in silence for a while, not knowing what to do or what to say, until Bruce abruptly stands up. He picks up his plate and walks over to you, holding out his hand for you to, hopefully, take. And you do, before putting Bruce’s journal and pen back on his disorganized desk.

Neither of you say anything as you walk hand in hand to the elevator, up the elevator, and to the dining room. You just enjoy the warmth of his calloused hand in yours. He enjoys your willingness to give him a chance, one that he doesn't deserve. Not yet.

#battinson #bruce wayne x reader #battinson x reader #angst #the batman 2022 #bruce wayne #battinson x you #x reader #batman x reader

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idontplaytrack · 2 days

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Reader gets super busy with writing/drawing and goes a little TOO long without eating (DEFINITELY not a recurring habit (it is)) and gets sick from it, a very concerned Janis steps in after not seeing them for like 2-3 days. I just need some comfort. love your work! 💙🥺

Trying to fake it

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader

Warnings: coarse language, reader struggles with eating, sickness, fluff, angst?, Janis unintentionally snaps at reader

“Stop this, y/n. Stop lying to me. You know you haven’t eaten anything at all lately. You know it. The last thing you can do is lie to me, stop.”

A furious Janis ran up your porch, knocking on your front door. You saw her through the blinds of your bedroom window. Backing away, the knocking only intensified as you hear her scream, “y/n, I know you’re home. Let me in!”

Well, she didn’t exactly sound like she was mad. Whatever it was she was feeling, it didn’t bother you until you came to be face to face with her. “Finally.” Janis gasped, side-stepping you to enter the house, “I have not seen you in what, 2, 3 days now?”

You pursed your lips together, nervousness bubbling up within you. As you averted your gaze, she immediately asked you to look at her. “Hey.” She got ahold of your hand, “That’s not gonna work— look at me. You gotta eat, I know you’re always so caught up in your writing, but —”

“I’m not hungry, okay?”

“Oh my god.” She huffs, “Stop this, y/n. Stop lying to me. You know you haven’t eaten anything at all lately. You know it. The last thing you can do is lie to me, stop.”

You rolled your eyes at her, freeing yourself from her grip and helping yourself to your third cup of coffee for the day.

“Why is it that you’re always burying yourself in work, making yourself write for hours and hours? It’s like you’re trying to avoid—”

“Wow, Janis— you’ve hit the nail right on the head there.” You took a gulp of the coffee and put the mug down on the counter.

“You’ve always been like this, you get yourself so busy you don’t even take care of yourself, you barely sleep, you barely drink any water and you’re literally running on caffeine. That is terrible. Why are you putting so much pressure on yourself?”

“If I knew what the hell was wrong with me, trust me, I wouldn’t be writing jackshit.” You scoffed, plopping down on the couch.

“Guess you could say the same thing about me.” She raised a brow, sitting down beside you, “Okay, let’s go make something to eat, alright?”

“No.” You spoke before your head processed it, “Why do you care so much about me anyway? It’s not like we’re dating.”

Janis gulped, staring down at her feet, “I care about you, can’t I care about you?”

“Why?”

Woah, that came out harsher than you thought.

“Because—” Janis stops herself, “Because I— like you. I like you! Okay? And it drives me crazy you care so little about yourself that you’d rather focus on words on a screen than making sure you’re healthy and not falling sick all the damn time because you are so exhausted and stressed out.”

“No, you d— what?” Your breath hitches, “You— you what’d you say?”

Janis’ heavy breathing starts calming down as she takes some slow deep breaths. The artist looks up at you again, meeting your eyes. You had a hard time looking back at her through your blurred vision thanks to the tears forming in them.

“I like you. I have for a very long time, I guess I just didn’t know how to tell you, we’ve known each other our whole lives and I was terrified of what would happen if I confessed. I thought I could fake it, but I can’t— so I’m taking the risk. I want you, y/n, to be my girlfriend.”

“No— I mean, yes I will be your girlfriend but no way in hell I can believe this, oh my God.” You chuckled tearfully, looking away so she doesn’t see you crying.

Janis holds your face in her hands, swiping the falling tears away with her thumb, “I’m sorry for raising my voice at you earlier, I uh, need to work on that.”

“I get it, I’m like that too, sometimes. Clearly.” You promised.

“You look pale.” She states.

“I know, Janis. First thing I noticed looking at myself in the mirror this morning.” She grumbled, “Would’ve been at school today, but my head is just—”

“And you thought coffee was the smartest choice?” She teases, “You must feel like—”

“Oh, so stupid nauseous.” You let out a laboured breath.

“Oookay, no coffee for you anymore.” Janis warns you, “D’you have a fever?”

“I don’t even know.”

Sighing, she got up to go grab a thermometer so she could check. Turns out, you were indeed running a fever. “I’ll be fine tomorrow, come on.”

“Yeah, you will. If you take the medicine.” She hands it to you, pouring you a glass of water.

“Fine, fine.” You took the pill from her hand and popped it into your mouth, almost immediately revolted by the bitterness of it as it melted it your mouth.

“You’re not gonna throw up, are you?” Janis narrows her eyes, squinting at you, half her ass off the stool and ready to bolt to grab you the trashcan.

You quickly swallowed the pill and shook your head no, “Guess not. God, I hate that thing.”

“Poor thing.” She sits back down fully, taking your hand into her own and brushing her thumb over your knuckles, “Okay, we gotta get some food in you. Empty stomach and meds are not too good.”

“I feel disgusting.”

“You still gotta eat, honey.”

You whined, “Okay, you— you make the food. I’m just gonna sit here.”

“And stay away from your laptop.” She stops you before you could go get it. You frowned, “Aw. What do I do then?”

“You have plenty you can do.” She couldn’t help it but smile at how cute you seemed being all pouty. “Watch some TV, or just stare into space and daydream for a change.”

“I might as well look at you.”

“Oh.” A pink hue tints her cheeks as she turned to look at you for a beat, “Well, I am not gonna say no to that. As long as you’re relaxed.”

“Okay, then, Janis.” You grinned, resting your chin on folded arms, “I could be here all day.”

🏷️ Tag list

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

💭 A/N

Am I posting too much? Maybe I should schedule them to be spaced out a little more in between each fic if I write so much😭😭

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kirkirk · 11 months

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Charade Maniacs Tokuten Translation - 自由人のお昼事情

Before you read: This is my first time doing translations like this, so, if you see any mistake/typo/incorrect part, please tell me and I’ll change it as soon as possible! I had a hard time figuring out some lines, so do take everything with a grain of salt. I really fell in love with Charade Maniacs, so I think it would be awesome to gather a little community of translators. The game doesn’t have that many tokuten, we could be done in a heartbeat. Also, English isn’t my first language either and that means some lines may sound unnatural. Rant over, this CD features Gyoubu, Futami, and Haiji. It’s pretty lighthearted and that means post-game therapy ^^

FUTAMI: Oh! You’re here. I would like to thank you for coming, but…

GYOUBU: This CD is a Charade Maniacs store tokuten, that means there could be spoilers from the game’s main story, but… you’ve already played it, right?

HAIJI: We want the people that still haven’t played the main story to come here afterwards.

FUTAMI: If it doesn’t bother you, you’re good to go. This warning is just in case.

HAIJI: I bet you’ll get hungry too, prepare some snacks and come, okay?

GYOUBU: I heard that we will be in the kitchen for a while…

FUTAMI: You two, weren’t we in the middle of a spoiler warning? Well, whatever. If you don’t have a problem, please wait a second-

FUTAMI: Charade Maniacs store tokuten drama CD – Lunch conditions for free spirits. Let’s begin.

(Music starts)

GYOUBU: Gaaagh, I’m so hungry!! Kei-chan, give me some food!

FUTAMI: Hey, Gyoubu. If you are searching for Ebana, he’s not here.

GYOUBU: Oh? Ryoichi? Why isn’t he here?

FUTAMI: You know he doesn’t live in the kitchen, right? Lunch was a long time ago.

GYOUBU: I played games the whole night, so I was sleeping in my room until just now. If I don’t eat something quick, I will starve to death.

FUTAMI: You were up all night again? …hey, why are you rummaging around?

GYOUBU: Agh… I was thinking there could still be some leftovers in the fridge, but…

FUTAMI: Since you didn’t wait for permission to start hunting for food, Ebana will get mad when he comes back, you know that, right?

GYOUBU: That’s alright, alright! I won’t be afraid even if he gets angry at me. I mean, I find it funny how he’s always acting so cold (1), doesn’t that make you want to tease him more?

FUTAMI: Hahaha…

GYOUBU: So… There was nothing left. What.

FUTAMI: Yeah, we had gratin today. Someone must have eaten what was left.

GYOUBU: Gratin?! Uwaaaagh, I bet Kei-chan’s gratin is delicious.

FUTAMI: Actually, it was pretty great. You were the only one that wasn’t here for it.

GYOUBU: Eeeh… Then I wonder why you didn’t leave me my plate…

HAIJI: Oh! …just you two?

FUTAMI: Haiji! As you can see, Gyoubu and I are the only ones here.

GYOUBU: Yes, yes. Also, there is a possibility I starve and die right here and now.

HAIJI: Is that so…? I was hungry too, is there nothing left?

GYOUBU: Hmm, I’ve been inspecting the fridge for a while, but there doesn’t seem to be anything edible there...

HAIJI: Ok… Then, should we do it ourselves?

GYOUBU: It’s a pain, but I guess we don’t have any other choice, huh. Aww, if only Kei-chan were here, I would have come out of bed and eaten right away.

HAIJI: So, what should we do?

GYOUBU: Me, me! I think I crave sakuramochi!

FUTAMI: Sakuramochi? Isn’t that too specific?

GYOUBU: I like it, weren’t the ones we had the other day great? So that’s why I want them again, I guess.

HAIJI: Mhmm, those were really good.

FUTAMI: I understand, but isn’t that a little bit too difficult for amateurs like us?

HAIJI: Does anyone know the recipe?

FUTAMI: Obviously, I don’t.

GYOUBU: Me neither!

HAIJI: I don’t either.

FUTAMI: I’m sorry, but let’s not go with sakuramochi. Even if we managed to make them, I doubt we would get the same flavor.

GYOUBU: Eeeeeeeeeeeh…

FUTAMI: You are about to say that you will eat them even if we failed? You can try to pull that one if you want to, but...

GYOUBU: Okay, let’s do something else!

FUTAMI: Ahahaha…

GYOUBU: Haiji, what do you want to eat?

HAIJI: I…, ice cream would be good.

GYOUBU: Just as I thought, I knew you would say that. Still, if we are talking about ice cream, the freezer if full of them, why bother making it ourselves? It’s not necessary.

HAIJI: I get it…, then how about cream puffs or apple pies?

GYOUBU: Those are the ones she's made before...

HAIJI: Yes! They taste good!

GYOUBU: From her repertoire, I’d want to have strawberry daifukus…

FUTAMI: You're only bringing up difficult dishes.

GYOUBU: And I wonder, wouldn’t Ryoichi Mr. Adult be able to help out...? (2)

FUTAMI: Hey, hey, don’t be ridiculous…! Anyways, why only desserts? Since we are talking about lunch, we should do something more normal.

HAIJI: Normal?

FUTAMI: Yes, like oyakodon or soborodon. Usually, I’m able to cook those.

GYOUBU: Meeeh? Aren’t those TOO normal?

FUTAMI: Too normal? What do you even want for lunch?!

GYOUBU: Since we are the ones cooking, I want something fun. That means the process will be entertaining too, right?

FUTAMI: You say ‘something fun’, but…!

GYOUBU: What do you think about those, the crepes that Kei-chan did the other day!

FUTAMI: I guess we are returning to deserts.

GYOUBU: Those guys… You could fill the crepes with anything you liked, just like a makizushi party, wasn’t it good? (3)

FUTAMI: Okay, that was quite fun.

GYOUBU: To think that I still haven’t forgotten about the one filled with matcha cream and red bean paste that I had!

HAIJI: I filled mine with lots of cream, chocolate and ice cream! It was so fun, I’d like to try it again.

FUTAMI: But that’s such a huge dish, Ebana will get mad for sure if he sees we’ve used that many ingredients without permission.

GYOUBU: Heeey, come on, let’s go with crepes! Haiji, you want to do so too, right?

HAIJI: Actually, I’m okay with it just being edible. I’m starving…

GYOUBU: A treason in broad daylight?!

FUTAMI: Hey, Gyoubu, we’re making it together, right? Today you’ll have to settle yourself with oyakodon.

GYOUBU: If there is no choice… I’ll accept your food today,

Ryoichi.

FUTAMI: Haha, thanks… Okay, I’ll have it done in a minute.

HAIJI: Hey, what goes into oyakodon?

FUTAMI: Eggs, chicken, and onions… There are still rice leftovers in the cooker, so I can season it afterwards.

HAIJI: Ooooh…

FUTAMI: I’ll prepare the pan and utensils. Haiji, would you mind bringing the ingredients I’ve just said?

HAIJI: Yes! Understood.

(Moving cookware SFX)

HAIJI: Huff… I put there all those things you mentioned. Is this okay?

FUTAMI: It’s true. You’re great, aren’t you? Compared with Gyoubu…, what are you even doing in that corner?

GYOUBU: It’s a game!

FUTAMI: How can you say it with such confidence.

GYOUBU: I’m not that good at cooking, so I thought I’d just play while you were at it. My role here would be eating.

FUTAMI: You were the one that requested this, how about you help a little bit? Even if you are bad at it, it’d be better if you could at least do something.

GYOUBU: Oh, that’s not a problem. One day, I will get a cute wife from whom I will ask for all of my meals.

FUTAMI: I think that wife would be happier with a man that knew how to cook.

GYOUBU: Aww, so that’s how it is… By the way, what are you making Haiji do?

FUTAMI: Ummm, could you peel the onions? Only the brown part.

HAIJI: Got it!

FUTAMI: Now, Gyoubu, you too. You can do as far as cracking and scrambling the eggs, right?

GYOUBU: Well, I guess I’m able to do that…

(More cooking SFX)

GYOUBU: Ryoichi, you are surprisingly good at this, aren’t you?

FUTAMI: Is that so? Since I live alone, I always cook for myself.

GYOUBU: Living alone, huh… That much freedom sure would be good.

FUTAMI: I might be free, yes, but, in exchange, there is a lot of stuff to do! Laundry, cleaning…, there is no other option but to do it yourself.

HAIJI: You do everything alone? That’s amazing…

FUTAMI: That’s just how it is.

(Frying SFX)

GYOUBU: Oh! That smells goooood…

FUTAMI: Riiight? Wait, Gyoubu, what are you putting in there?

GYOUBU: What? Tsubuan?

FUTAMI: You said it like it isn’t a big deal, why tsubuan?

GYOUBU: I guess I’m really in the mood for traditional sweets today. The crepe talk a while ago didn’t help either.

FUTAMI: Now that you say that…, strawberry daifuku and sakuramochi, those were both traditional Japanese sweets!!! That was your plan all along!

HAIJI: I like red bean paste too, if we use it, it could taste very good maybe…

FUTAMI: It doesn’t matter how many times you say it, I’m not putting that in the oyakodon.

GYOUBU: Ryoichi, look, life is a challenge.

FUTAMI: I get it, I’ll do something like that for dessert, but, please, let me cook the oyakodon normally!

GYOUBU: Oh, really…?

FUTAMI: Yes, it won’t be as good as Ebana’s would be though.

(Cooking SFX)

FUTAMI: Now all that’s left is serving the rice, then place some chopped green onions and… Alright! It’s done.

GYOUBU: You actually did it…

HAIJI: Looks tasty…!

FUTAMI: Come on, you two, eat it before it gets cold.

HAIJI: Yes…

GYOUBU: Okaaaaaaay!

HAIJI: Mhmmh, this is really delicious.

GYOUBU: Mhmhm! Even better than the ones you buy frozen. You left me wanting seconds. Ryoichi, aren’t you able to be a great bride?

FUTAMI: What am I supposed to do with that skill? Well…, as requested, I made you red bean soup with mochi, so make sure you finish it too.

GYOUBU: Did you really…?

FUTAMI: That’s because you wouldn’t stop asking for red bean paste!

HAIJI: Hey, about the discussion you were having… Can you become a bride even if you are a man?

FUTAMI: That is indeed impossible. I would be a groom, but still…

HAIJI: Oh…, okay.

GYOUBU: Nevertheless, we are trapped. I sure hope we don't have to spend the rest of our lives here...

FUTAMI: I wonder… When we gather enough points, we might be able to escape. But we still don’t know how much time it will take.

GYOUBU: Well, if it gets to that, I might ask her to marry me.

FUTAMI: Huh?!

HAIJI: Then I want her to marry me too.

GYOUBU: Obviously, sharing her is out of the picture so we have to decide who’s going to marry her, right?

HAIJI: I assume we can’t decide it with rock-paper-scissors…?

GYOUBU: Then we would have the answer too soon…! I think there should be better ways to settle this.

HAIJI: Oh…

FUTAMI: Hey, hey, don’t be so reckless. You must take her feelings into consideration too!

GYOUBU: Either way, I think the fastest we choose, the better. Taking into consideration our circumstances, that’s it.

FUTAMI: You should be worrying about her answer!

GYOUBU: Wait, then you don’t want her to be your wife?

FUTAMI: That’s not what I meant. I just feel you need to become closer to her before jumping into those questions.

GYOUBU: Isn’t that too tedious?

HAIJI: I think we already are close enough though…

FUTAMI: Is this really how the youth thinks nowadays? Well, you are free to think that you want to marry her, but…, for now, just don’t mention it in front of Banjo.

GYOUBU: If this conversation reached Tomo's ears we would really be in trouble, right…

HAIJI: Does that mean we can talk to her about it? Then, I’m going…

GYOUBU: Talk to her about what?

HAIJI: That I would like her as my wife, yes…

FUTAMI: Hey!!!!

GYOUBU: Doesn’t that sound entertaining?! Can I go watch you?

HAIJI: Yeah, no biggie…

FUTAMI: Gyoubu, wait! You’ve just called it ‘entertaining’, didn’t you?!

GYOUBU: What are you talking about? I genuinely just want to watch over the ripening of Haiji’s love…!

FUTAMI: You just want to have fun after all.

GYOUBU: Aaaaaagh!

HAIJI: Then, I’ll be going now….

GYOUBU: Wait, wait, I’m coming too!

FUTAMI: Hey! You two! Wait a-! Aaaaagh… There is nothing one can do with them… I mean, I made it because they said they wanted to eat it…, what do I do with the red bean soup?!

Translator Notes: (1) He literally calls him tsuntsun (2) He says ‘Ryoichi the adult’, but I felt Ryoichi Mr Adult helped convey his teasing tone 😊 (3) A ‘makizushi party’ is an event where a host teaches the guests how to roll and fill their own sushi rolls (if they don’t know) and everyone comes up with their own versions. I only translated the honorifics when Gyoubu used -chan.

Personal comment: This was a very fun one to do, I especially loved Futami’s dynamics with those two. We didn’t see him interacting that much with Haiji in-game, so I was quite surprised when I heard how softly he spoke to him compared with when he addressed Gyoubu. Again, if you see any errors, don't hesitate to reach out!!! alsothefoodnameswereanightmareohmygod

#charade maniacs #charade maniacs translations #takumi haiji #souta gyoubu #futami ryoichi

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luveline · 3 years

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in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #harry potter imagine #fred Weasley imagine #fred Weasley x reader #reader insert #reader has acne #reader is an unreliable narrator #reader x fred Weasley #fred Weasley fanfic #fred Weasley fluff #hurt/comfort #Fred weasley x reader

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annabethy · 3 years

Note

“Come back to bed” maybe on the college era?

in which percy is head over heels in love and wants annabeth to come back to bed,, percabeth

Percy notices the second that Annabeth slides out of bed. It’s hard to not notice, really, when he’s been sleeping next to her for years. He’s fallen used to the way she breathes, the cute way she turns from one side to the other seemingly on the hour, so it leaves him feeling rather empty and cold as the floorboards creak under the weight of her feet.

He doesn’t follow her immediately, figuring that she’ll come back soon enough. It’s alarming how he can envision her without seeing her – her steps are more spaced apart, so he knows that she’s still half asleep, and he can hear the sniffles, the remnant of her nasty cold.

The noise stops, and that does bring him out of bed. His feet slide onto the floor, and chills run through his body at the contact. His footsteps are featherlight as he walks down the hallway and to the living room, where he fully expects to find his girlfriend.

Percy does find her there, and the sight makes him have to stop for a moment to collect the drops of his melting heart. Her back is to him, so she doesn’t move, but she’s sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, a bowl in hands.

A whole buffet, really. She’s grabbed countless snacks and set them in front of her as she finishes off a bowl of ice cream. Percy thinks she’s reminiscent of a sneaky toddler right now with the fuzzy blanket that’s wrapped over her shoulders, and it forces him to stifle the smile across his face. He just watches her for a second as her fingers hover over the colorful wrappers, deciding what to open next. It’s a deserved snack in his opinion because she’s been sick for days and has also been struggling through finals.

Annabeth yawns, and that brings Percy’s attention back to the situation. He steps forward softly, leaning against the back ridge of the couch.

“Come back to bed,” he says softly, sliding his hands over her shoulders.

She jumps but just flops backwards onto the couch so that she can look up at him instead of turning around. Percy’s thumb brushes her cheek lovingly.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Annabeth yawns again as Percy comes around the couch. He sits next to her on the floor, opening an arm for her to settle against. She takes the opportunity, pressing her face into his chest.

“I’m okay,” she mumbles against him. It’s entirely muffled, but he understands her well enough.

“What are you doing up?”

She looks at the snacks in front of her. “I was hungry.” Percy chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. He sits back so he can look at all of her face. “I can see that.”

“Don’t make fun,” she whines. “I wasn’t making fun,” he assures. His hand goes to trace slowly over her back as he presses a kiss onto the top of her head.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” she tries to explain.

Percy gives her a scolding look. “Baby.”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot to eat?”

“Yes, but it’s okay because I’m eating now.”

Percy looks at the bowl of ice cream. “You’re shoveling carbs in your body.”

“Anyone who took high school biology would know that it’s for short term energy, which I need because I have a ton of homework to do.”

“What you need is to sleep,” he says gently. He keeps caressing up and down her back, and his point is proved when her eyes begin to flutter shut. He presses his lips to the top of her hair and closes his eyes as he rocks her slightly. He’ll never get tired of this, holding her in his arms, watching her drift off to sleep, comfortable and warm and safe. It showcases how far they’ve come, how much she trusts him, and it reminds him of their future. They’re both in their senior year of college so it’s only a matter of time before they graduate, and…

A ring sits untouched in the corner of his dresser. He’s wanted to for so long – he’s practically dying to make her his wife and wake up to her for the rest of his life – but he’s waiting until they’re no longer in university.

Right now though, he is tempted to blurt the words out. He wants to tell her that she’s beautiful, that he loves her and always will, and that he wants to marry her. And while he thinks she wouldn’t mind, he knows that she deserves so much better than a half-assed proposal without any ring in his hands, so he’ll just have to wait.

He still feels like sharing some of what he’s feeling though, and while it’s not quite a proposal, he says, “I’m going to marry you someday.”

Percy doesn’t expect an answer back. She looks asleep, her breathing even, so he is surprised when she whispers, “Not if I marry you first, loser.”

It’s so Annabeth that he can’t help but start laughing at two in the morning. She cracks open an eye, and it’s a sight he’ll never get used to seeing. The eye that he can see sparkles and makes his stomach flutter, so he presses another kiss to her lips. He holds it for a few seconds, relishing in the soft contact, breathing the entirety of her in.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She repeats the words back to him, sleepy and cute.

“Come back to bed,” he pleads gently, quietly, nothing more than a mere whisper into her ear. “You’re exhausted.”

“I’m eating,” she argues, though she is on the brink of falling back asleep.

“Bring it with you,” he tells her, and so she does. It’s a short walk back to the bedroom, and Percy has to fix the blanket on her shoulder from falling off as she refuses to let any of the snacks fall from her arms. She crawls into the bed next to him, right into his open arms. They’re stuffed under four blankets – Annabeth’s doing – and she dumps the pile of snacks right onto his stomach.

He jokes about her using him as her personal table, and she says something snarky back, but he’s too focused on the moment to interpret what she says. This feels like exactly where he wants to be for the rest of his life, and exactly where he is supposed to be for the rest of his life.

When she finally does fall asleep against him, curled into his chest, breaths hitting the skin of his neck, he thinks he’s found his home.

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years

Text

REDACTED verse - A dinner and a show

Prompt: any | any | competition

Word Count: 2,460

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: Explicit implications

Summary: It's a tradition within the Solaire Clan that the King would visit his progenies from time to time. Tonight, Will is coming over to Vincent & Lovely's apartment for dinner. What's not a tradition is the karaoke competition that comes afterwards.

ConCrit: Y

I don’t know what happened. This oneshot just went out of my control but I had so much fun writing it today! I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Also, I just realised that all the characters in my oneshots have been eating lately. Oh my god, I got so hungry when I was writing them that I subconsciously includes food in some of the scenes 😭 Food is my love language so I guess it’s cute that the bois and their lovers would sit down and eat together.

That being said, I hope you guys will crave Korean food as much as I am in this oneshot! 😅

“Vincent? I need your help. Can you tell me what’s Will's favourite colours?”

“Lovely - ”

“Because I have some formal outfits in our closet, but they don’t mean shit if Will hate the colours.”

“Lovely, hang on - ”

“Is he allergic to perfumes? Colognes? I have some soft-scented bottles that should be Vampire-friendly! I think? Most of them are floral though… oh! Does he have a favourite flower? Do you think I should buy some before he comes over?”

“What? No, Lovely, I think you’re working yourself up - ”

“I know you bought some blood bags for dinner but do you think we should cook some food too? Does Will like to eat? Shit, I knew I should have bought some groceries yesterday after class!”

“You’re not listening to me at all, Lovely…”

“We have to clean up the whole place too. I don’t know how our furniture gets so dusty so quickly! I just wiped them down a few days ago!”

“...”

“Do you think I should do my hair too? It’s a bit of a mess lately; I could use a trim. Does Will - ”

Lovely's eyes widen as a deep kiss suddenly silences them. Their heart pounds when Vincent brings them close to his chest, trapping his lover in his arms. Lovely's eyes flutter close when he pulls away to press butterfly kisses on their neck. They couldn’t help it; they moan and tilt their head back when they feel fangs delicately drag down their tender skin.

“Vincent!” Lovely hisses, not sure for what, though, when Vincent's fangs pinprick where their pulse is.

“Oh? Are you finally with me again, Lovely?” Vincent breathes, loving how their heart begins to beat faster and faster in anticipation. His chest reverberates when he chuckles deeply. “There we go… I have your attention again, little one.”

They grumbled at the unfairness of it all. Just as Lovely knew all of Vincent’s weaknesses and tickle spots, he knew how weak their knees behaved when he pressed his fangs to any parts of his partner's body. Especially down south.

“I’m serious here, Vince.” Lovely whines. “There are so many things we have to do before Will comes over for dinner tonight. I want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

Vincent gives Lovely a deadpan look. They would’ve coo at how adorable he looks if it weren’t for his Vampiric speed and his habit of chucking them onto the bed whenever Lovely is being too stubborn to listen to reason. “Lovely? A question: are you dating my Sire or me?”

Lovely blinks; they didn’t expect that. “Uh, you, duh.”

“Then trust me, as your boyfriend,” Lovely has no idea why Vincent emphasised that last word, but they knew better than to interrupt him when he gets like this. “That everything’s going to be fine. Besides, I told you that while this might look like the whole ‘meeting the parent’ shtick, the relationship between a Sire and their Progeny is way more than that.” He patiently reminds them.

“Well yeah, but he means a lot to you.” Lovely points out. Now, why did Vincent look so surprised at that? “So that means he’s important to me too. That’s why this dinner has to be perfect.”

For a moment, Vincent said nothing. He just stares at them in wonderment.

Lovely let out a surprised squeak when Vincent suddenly crushed them in a hug. “How did I get so damn lucky with you, Lovely?” He murmurs, face buried on top of their head. “Sometimes I think that you’re… too amazing to be real.”

So soft and sweet; that’s Vincent. Lovely lets him cuddle them like his personal teddy bear until he's satisfied.

“Now, I need you to do something for me, Lovely. Do you think you can do it?”

Lovely raise an eyebrow. “Depends on what it is, Vince. I haven’t eaten anything yet, so I can only give you at least four hours in bed - ”

“N-Not that!” Vincent hurries to interject, a brilliant red blush runs across his cheeks despite him being a Vampire. He coughs once to get them on track, playfully glaring at Lovely for trying to distract him. “Geez, Lovely. It’s still way too early for… that. But we're definitely going to revisit that. Anyway, I need you to calm down for a second, OK? Will is a pretty chill guy and an open-minded Sire. He knows how much I love you, so you have nothing to worry about.” He gently assures them, rubbing calming motions up and down Lovely's back.

Lovely could feel their anxiety melts away. Just enough for them to finally breathe again ever since Vincent dropped the bomb that William Solaire will be coming over for dinner tonight.

Apparently, everyone in the Clan knows that the King would visit his Progenies at least once a month to check up on them. Just like how a parent would drop by their children's home for a visit, in Lovely's opinion.

“Ok. You win, baby.” Lovely sighs, loving how his rubbing eases the tense muscles. They arch their back like a pleased, spoiled cat when Vincent messages that spot below their shoulders. “Ooooh, yes, that’s the spot!”

Once Lovely's bones feel like they could melt at any time, they throw Vincent a grateful smile.

“Now, there’s the smile I’ve been missing the whole day!” Vincent teases. “C’mon Lovely, let’s plan for dinner before we take our nap. How do you feel about seafood?”

“Oh, I can go for some seafood. It’s been a while.”

“Spicy steamed crabs with scallops, battered pan-fry oysters and some chilled bowl of rice top with raw salmon and sea bass with slices of your favourite veggies? All Korean-style."

“Hell yes. I think we have all the ingredients for that. Wait. Err, can Will handle spicy food?”

"Uh... I have no idea. Maybe we should hold back on that spicy steamed crabs with scallops just in case."

Ever since the two started living together, Vincent really took a shine when it came to cooking and baking. The idea of providing for Lovely makes him ridiculously happy, and besides, him whipping up healthy and delicious food for them results in much richer and sweeter blood flowing within his lover for him to feed on so… win-win!

As the two of them traverse to the kitchen to start preparing the ingredients for dinner, Lovely slowly gain the confidence that their dinner tonight with Vincent's Sire will turn out alright.

And before both of them knew it, the sun had set.

After a fresh shower, the entire apartment is now spotless (to Lovely's standard), and dinner is served on the table, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" Lovely announce just as Vincent finish putting down the plates. They smoothen out the creases on their clothes, roll their shoulders before taking a deep, calming breath and answer the door. Like a soldier marching towards the battlefield.

Seeing his partner's dramatic reaction, Vincent just shakes his head.

As soon as Lovely opens the door, William Solaire greets them. "Good evening. I hope I'm not too early. The evening traffic has been quite a hassle lately. I figured that even if I'm a bit early, I could help you and Vincent in the kitchen." Will explains. In his arms is a bouquet of white pear blossoms, yellow gladioluses and red tulips. When Lovely stares at them curiously, Will smiles knowingly. "Vincent informed me that you don't drink, so I decided that flowers would be the appropriate gift as oppose to a bottle of champagne."

"They're so pretty." Lovely reply, breathless when they receive the bouquet. "Thank you so much, Will! I'll put them in a vase now. Oh, and please come in." They graciously step aside to let Vincent's Sire in.

While Lovely is busy rummaging for a vase in the storeroom, Will and Vincent make small talks over at the dining table. Vincent passes the ancient Vampire a tall glass of blood which Will accept with gratitude.

"Hey, Will. How's it going?"

"I'm fine, Vincent. Thank you for asking." Will reply after dabbing the bloodstain on the corner of his lips. "The Clan is the same as usual; Our Newborn members have finally settled in nicely, much to Sam's relief. I plan to visit them next week."

Vincent tops up Will's empty glass before replying. "That's great to hear." He's about to say something else before a loud bang against the wall in the storeroom stops him. "Uh, Lovely? Is everything OK in there?" He calls out.

"It's fine, it's fine!" Lovely shouts back. "I found the perfect vase for the flowers!"

Vincent groans in exasperation. When Will throws him a confused expression, Vincent is compelled to explain. "Look, Will, Lovely has been freaking out about tonight's dinner the whole day. They think that if it turns out anything but perfect, you're going to be disappointed in them. So just... just play along, alright?"

Will chuckles; his heart warms at the thought that Lovely holds him in such high regard. What an adorable human. "Is that so? Very well then, I will play the perfect guest towards such kind hosts."

And true to his words, when Lovely joins them at the table after putting the vase full of flowers on the coffee table in the living room, Will waste no time in kicking his charm to the max. In between their meal, Will makes sure to compliment Lovely's outfit (which earned him a shy yet pleased blush from Lovely and a jealous kick at his shin from Vincent). He then comments that the spicy steamed seafood dish is his favourite, and when desserts are introduced, Will gently helps Lovely open up by asking about their interests and hobbies.

Will is pleasantly surprised to find one of the many common grounds they share: their love for analysing music.

"I find RM to be one of the most brilliant lyricists in this generation." Will states once his bowl of red bean shaved ice is empty. "His songs are undoubtedly impactful for the youths of today. Not to mention that I'm quite fond of his wordplays."

"You're into K-pop!?" Lovely ask, utterly gobsmacked. Their eyes are wide in shock.

Vincent snorts. "Alexis is a BTS fan. Somehow, she managed to convert Will too."

When Lovely turn to face Will once more, their expression frozen in disbelieve, he adds, "We're planning to catch their concert once the situation permits it."

Will's pop culture admission finally broke the ice. Lovely laughs in delight before launching themselves into an animated conversation about modern music with Will.

However, it wasn't long before their topic suddenly went off the rail when Vincent claimed that he's a better shower singer than Lovely.

"Oh please, Vince, I thought you were dying in the bathroom," Lovely interjects with a roll of their eyes. Vincent splutters at his partner's cruel remark, but Lovely presses on without mercy, much to Will's amusement. He resolutely keeps his mouth shut despite his growing grin slowly making its way up to his face. "Face it, you're tone-deaf. Being a Vampire doesn't magically make you a good singer."

"Those are some fighting words, Lovely. Can you back them up?"

"We can settle this tonight if you want. You and me; we can duke it out in a singing swag off with Will as the judge." Lovey declares with a smirk before they head into the living room. All revved up as if their previous anxiety over dinner had never happened.

"Oh my..."

Vincent turns to Will with a grateful nod. "Thanks for helping them relax. And hey, you don't have to stay if you have some other plans tonight, Will."

Will stares back at his Progeny with a faux, scandalous look on his face, complete with a hand on his chest. "Why, Vincent, where would I be anywhere but here? It's not every day that I get to see you humbled by your lover. Don't think I forget that you were once known as the Playboy of the Solaire Clan."

Shock looks good on Vincent's face. It's cute that he actually forgot how he was before Lovely walks into his life. Oh, Will is going to milk this for all its worth.

"Alright! The system is set up!" Lovely announce from near the TV with a microphone in their hand. "Will, come on! You need to help me prove that Vincent sings like a dying cat. Here, here!"

"Oi, oi! We haven't even started yet!" Vincent rebuke and flits over to grab the spare microphone. "You know what, Lovely? I'm so confident that I'll win this that I'll let you go first."

Lovely grins viciously and accepts his offer. Once Will makes himself comfortable on the couch and signals for them to begin, Lovely open their mouth,

Will couldn't stop smiling as Lovely sings their heart out, and Vincent makes his grand entrance after they're done (singing one of Will's favourite songs in hopes to sway his Sire to his side). Vincent and Lovely are having the time of their life, teasing one another as they sing. Will commits this night into one of his most cherished memories.

*"Dari apa yang aku perhatikan

Manusia mahu senang tapi tak semua mahu berkorban

Dari apa yang mereka katakan

Ada yang jawab jujur tapi selebihnya kuat beralasan..."

However, as the night grows long, Will doesn't have the heart to tell them that they both are horrible singers.

Tonight, it's Sam's turn. Will deliver three knocks on his door before Sam swings it open. He looks exhausted, unamused and seconds away from running out of the house.

"Good evening, Sam."

"Good evening, William. Before you come in, can I ask why my Progenies insist on having a karaoke competition tonight? On the night where they knew you were coming?"

Will begins to smile widely. Both he and Sam could hear a heated argument between Frederick and Bright Eyes from the living room.

"No, you can't sing Bambi, Bright Eyes. I won't allow it! You're going to break the windows!"

"Oh my god, would you let me live, Freddy!?"

"We've been over this; you can't sing! Wait. What are you - put down that microphone - "

Music starts to play at maximum volume, and then,

Sam closed his eyes and sighed deeply and in resignation when Bright Eyes began to sing louder to drown out Frederick's shrieking.

**“Feel it like memalla itteon mam wiro

seumyeodeun danbi

dabi piryo eopji

Because you’re my favourite..."

"I don't know what had happened - and I honestly don't want to know - but I hope you're ready to deal with these two tonight."

"Why, Sam, where would I be anywhere but here?"

These are the English translations & link to the songs that Lovely and Bright Eyes were singing:

*“From what I can see

People want the good life, but are not willing to sacrifice

From what I hear

Some are honest but others are full of excuses...”

**“Feel it like timely rain that seeps into my dry heart

No other answer is needed

Because you’re my favorite...”

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #vincent solaire #lovely (listener)#william solaire #sam collins #frederick #bright eyes (listener)#pop culture references

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lavendersb · 4 years

Text

Provider

Din Djarin x reader

Summary: Din wants to give you the universe. Making you see stars seems like a good place to start.

Warnings: Smut, this is str8 up sin, fingering, soft!dom Din, service!dom Din, overstimulation, so much praise, i wrote this at 3am so if this is hardly literate im so sorry :)

@maybege i have you to blame for encouraging my sinful behaviour

Din doesn’t know how he survived before you.

Of coursed he coped, he hadn’t become the best bounty hunter in the parsec without a certain level of diligence. His structured Mandalorian upbringing had taught him the importance of being capable and organized, of always being one step ahead.

But the child had brought with him its own unique set of challenges. Din could deal with the bounty hunters and imperial forces, they where nothing new to him. The joys of parenthood however had taken some getting used to.

He was an angel most of the time. Din could spend hours with the little womp rat and not encounter the slightest hitch, but when the fancy struck him, the child could turn into a little terror of angry gargles and twitching ears. The fact that he could also throw items around the crest with his strange magic powers didn’t make these tantrums any easier for Din to handle.

That’s when you had arrived. Offering your services as caretaker and claiming to be a half -decent mechanic as well, Din had hired you almost instantly. The child was almost as taken with you as he was, and from that moment on, Din never looked back.

He learns quickly that you had been very modest about your skills. Not only where you capable of handling whatever the child threw your way, you could also help with just about any problem the crest came up with. Din also learns that you’re not bad in a fight, and on the odd occasion he invites you out on a hunt with him. You work together like a well-oiled machine, united by a common goal of protecting the child. Protecting each other.

Perhaps it was your caring and capable nature that drew Din closer to you than he ever expected he would. Regardless of what it had been, Din has never felt as happy as when he comes home to see the love of his life waiting for him with his strange little son.

This is where his mind has wondered as he trudges through the swampy mud back to his ship. The bounty was on planet thankfully, so Din never had to worry about bringing the quarry near to his safe haven. The safe haven in question, the metallic body of the razor crest, peeks out at him through the trees and Din’s feet just can’t move fast enough.

Din lowers the ramp, and as he reaches the warmly lit interior of the hull he can’t help but pause a moment in shock.

The hull when Din had left it was a state. On the previous planet you had returned to the crest just as a team of Jawas had started to tear it apart. Thankfully Din had managed to scare them off before they could cause any real damage, but a fair few interior wall panels had already been unscrewed and tossed aside. This morning Din had left the hull in that same state. Now it was as if there had never been any damage at all.

But there, in the centre of the hull is the thing that makes Din’s heart clench beneath the beskar. You’ve set a small metal container on the ground, filled it with some warm water which gently steams, and placed the little green child inside for a bath. He watches where you kneel beside the tub, grinning at the child as he holds one of your fingers in one tiny hand, and splashes the water with the other.

“Hi,” you say through a slight laugh, snapping Din out of his reverent staring “we’re almost done here”

Din walks forward, coming to stand beside you and bending to press his forehead to yours softly.

“Did you fix the ship?” he asks softly, though he knows the answer.

“Yes,” you confirm, pulling away from him reluctantly. The child, now wholly interested in the return of his father, reaches out to Din and begins to babble uncontrollably.

“We’ve had a busy day, haven’t we? But you’ve been such a good helper,” You say to the child, and Din watches you fish the wriggling child out of his bath and wrap him up in a soft towel. He notes that the task of fixing the crest must have taken almost all of the day, and having to keep the child entertained at the same time wouldn’t have made it easy for you.

“Mesh’la, have you eaten today?”

Din takes your silence as an answer and his happiness falters just a little. Of course you would prioritise your task and the child before yourself. Sometimes he wonders how you would survive without him.

“I wanted to wait” you reassure him weakly “enjoy my break when the work is done”

“I’ll take him from here, you should rest” Din says, leaving no room for argument.

He takes the child from you, now dressed in a freshly cleaned robe (another task you’ve completed that he wants to thank you for). Din sees a moment of doubt pass over your face as you try to argue with him, but the feeling of tiredness creeping into your bones wins you over. With an acknowledging smile, you kiss the child on the head and disappear towards the nearest bunk.

Din takes care of the last few jobs of the day, content in the knowledge that his love is resting nearby. He makes the jump to hyperspace first, cradling the child in his arms. The little bundle is still warm from the bath, and Din watches his big glossy eyes blink slowly at him, trying to savour the last moment seeing his Buir’s shiny helmet before he falls asleep.

Once the child is safely asleep in his cot, Din goes to fish through his bag, producing one of the fresh bread rolls and a selection of berry’s he bought before he returned. He plates them with the last of the soup that’s left, and once he’s finished his own portion and secured his helmet back in place, he calls out to you to join him.

Woozy and half asleep, Din watches fondly as you float towards the little kitchen set-up. The sleep in your eyes is replaced with excitement as you catch a glimpse of the fresh food on the table.

“Din,” you breathe “you shouldn’t have”

“It’s the least I can do for everything you’ve done today”

Din watches as you happily devour the food. He listens intently as you tell him all of the things you and the child got up to that day. How long it took to fix the panels, how the two of you played out in the muddy swamp for a while before you brought the child in for a well needed bath. This domesticity is something so new to him, but you make it feel easy. Just like you made it easy for him to fall in love with you. He would give you the galaxy, Din thinks, if only he knew where to start.

When the food is finished, Din clears the plates away but there’s a feeling deep down in his soul that he can do more for you. There’s still something else he can provide. As he sees you walk away towards the refresher, he knows he must act fast.

Din crowds you against the wall, pressing you against the panels you’ve just diligently fixed. A hand that rests at the back of your head prevents you from hurting your skull, and Din lets his fingers wind through the strands beneath them. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at his visor, surprised by his sudden movements and hopeful, Din can tell, that he might be about to pull unspeakable pleasures from you.

“Have I taken care of you? He asks quietly.

“Y-yes”

“No,” Din chastises “I haven’t. Not yet. Tell me what you need”

Your lips flutter as the words Din seeks dance around your mouth. He encourages your response by fisting your hair a little harder, not to be cruel, but to ease you into his instruction.

“You, Din” he finally hears you gasp “I need you”

Pride swells in him at your words, and he moves the hand in your hair to wrap around the small of your back and fasten on your waist, pulling you close to him whilst he presses you to the wall.

“Then you’ll have me”

Din uses his free hand to pull at the obstructing fabric that keeps him from the apex of your thighs. Softly, but without preamble his hand dips to your heat and makes a gentle swipe through your folds, groaning when he finds it warm and soft and so very wet already.

His fingers find your clit and with tiny, firm little circles he plays with it to his hearts content. Din feels you tremble and sag against him, enjoying how accepting you become to his touch.

“My sweet girl,” Din breathes, and it’s said so reverently it makes you tremble and mewl just that bit more.

“My sweet girl, you’ve worked so hard today” The movements against your clit slow and you whine in complaint. Din chuckles and shushes you “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whine desperately, moving to grip the arm that reaches between your legs, hoping to encourage it to move again.

Din smiles beneath his helmet, satisfied with your compliance as he returns to your clit with vigour, plucking from you tiny gasps that draw his hungry eyes to the way your pretty chest rises and falls.

“Then cum mesh’la. Come so I can fuck your pretty cunt with my fingers”

And oh how that filthy promise pushes you off the edge. He feels you stiffen in his arms and pulls you closer to him until you feel crushed by his solid presence. You can hardly register it though, too lost in the waves of pleasure that don’t seem to ease at all. Din doesn’t stop playing with your clit until your pretty moans turn to gasps and pleas to stop.

He doesn’t remove his hand from you, simply sliding his fingers down to trace that little fluttering hole he loves so dearly. He watches your face the whole time, enjoying how slack it goes when the first finger makes a teasing press against you.

“Pretty girl you take such good care of us, but you neglect yourself” he teasingly scolds, pressing into you a little further with his finger and watching you keen at his tone.

“Would you like to be taken care of? Is that what you need?”

“Yes, Din, yes” you nod frantically, squirming in his firm grasp.

He squeezes your hip in warning, before sliding his finger deep inside you. Both of you groan at the feeling of your soft heat welcoming his finger. He starts to pump into you, his pace direct and precise, hitting against that soft spongy spot with each push. Din wanted to give you the galaxy, making you see stars seemed like a good place to start.

“I knew from the first minute I saw you that you’d be so warm and soft everywhere” Din says as you cry out for him “and I was right, wasn’t I mesh’la? Your cunt might be the warmest, softest thing in the whole galaxy”

As he adds another finger, Din swears he’s never felt more whole then when he’s breaking you apart like this. Letting you be tender and vulnerable. You break apart for him so well he muses.

“Won’t you cum for me?” he says, and stars you’ve never wanted to come so bad in all your life. Not just because you think you might explode at the way his fingers are aiming for that spot that makes you cry out in pleasure, but also because you want- no need him to know how much you love him. How grateful you are that he treats you so well.

When you do cum its electric. You reach for Din’s pauldron for support, gripping the metal as you rock against his hand. He feels you soak his palm and groans, shamelessly grinding himself against whatever part if you he can.

He doesn’t pull his fingers from you, instead he massages your walls gently watching you twitch when he rubs that special place inside you. He waits until you meet his eye through the visor, expectantly waiting for him to withdraw his fingers.

Instead he presses his thumb back against your thoroughly abused clit and holds you tighter as you give a startled jolt against him.

“Din,” you whine, and he smirks at how wrecked and helpless you sound “I can’t-“

“You can” he insists, picking up the pace of the fingers inside you “You’ll cum again because I’m telling you to. Because I’m taking care of you, right?”

You can barely nod in response, your body to busy trying to cope with the overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. Din gazes at your face, taken by the way your brows pinch and fat tears fill your waterline and weigh down your eyelashes.

The sight of you has him desperate, and he removes the hand from around your waist, using his torso to pin you to the wall so you don’t collapse. He tugs the cowl away from his neck to expose the tanned skin of his neck. You don’t need his instruction to know what to do next, and with what little energy left in your body, you lean forward to press messy, fluttering kisses to the skin over his pulse.

Din grunts, truly blissed out by the feeling of you on him doubles his assault on your sensitive heat. He barely hears your gasping warning before he feels you come utterly undone against him. Your cunt squeezes his fingers so tightly, and he makes sure to tell you that, though he’s not sure you can hear him. Your face is still pressed against his neck, breathing against him, and he swears he feels a wet tear drop against his skin.

“I love you, sweet girl” he says, pulling his fingers from you softly.

The hum that comes from your heavy, satisfied, and sleepy body tells him he’s done his job well. He lets himself feel proud. Upstairs, his child sleeps soundly in his crib. Well protected and well loved. Here, in his arms, lays his love. Soon she’ll be asleep in their shared bed, and Din will find himself wondering how he was blessed with such a wonderful and loving partner.

#sdklmwfoncamk #anyway can yall tell im h*rny #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #my writing #smut #star wars #star wars x reader

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laurenairay · 3 years

Text

We’ll Shine Together - C. Kreider

Summary: Chris knows the perfect way to wind down at the end of the day.

Word count: 1k words

Warnings: fluff?

A/N: just a little sweet something for @tippedbykreider 💖 hope this puts a smile on your face!

To say that today had been long was an understatement. Phone call after phone call, a list of emails the length of your arm, pointless meetings that could’ve just been more emails….and to make it worse, you’d even missed lunch in the mess of it all.

Days like today didn’t happen often, being honest, but when they did happen they really ruined your whole energy. In the past, you would’ve stayed in that low place for hours, going straight home to mope on the sofa in your pyjamas with a tub of ice cream. You would’ve struggled into bed and struggled out of bed the next morning, fighting to break out of that fog.

But not anymore.

Now, it was all you could do to ignore your rumbling stomach, trying to muffle the growls under your sweater, to just get through the day. Because what - or rather, who - was waiting for you at home would make things immediately better. He always did.

Chris.

Come rain or shine, summer or winter, laughter or sadness, stress or peace, Chris stood always by your side. Sometimes it was to offer a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes it was to wrap his arms around you in the ultimate comforting hug. Sometimes it was to top up your wine glass with a wicked grin, full of promises for later. But it didn’t matter what the situation was - he was always there, ready.

And today was no different.

The moment you opened your front door, the smell of your family favourite spaghetti bolognese filled the air; the rich tomato, red wine and beef mince scents making your hungry stomach kick up its growls a notch. How did he always know? You had barely talked to him all day - how did he always figure out exactly what you needed?

“Honey I’m home!” you called, teasing only slightly.

Only slightly, because right now there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Come join me in the kitchen!” he called back.

You felt a little of the tension in your shoulders ease at the warmth in his voice, and wasted no time in dropped your coat and bag to the floor, kicking your shoes to the side. They could be dealt with later. Now was not the time. All you could focus on was the promise of seeing his beautiful smile, receiving a sweet kiss, and turning your day around. As your feet carried you down the hallway, you could already feel the warmth of his arms around you, paired with the soft jazz music playing in the background. Yes, this is exactly what you needed right now.

“Hello sweetheart,”

There it was, the missing piece that made your day complete. Chris laughed softly as you wordlessly hopped up on the counter next to him, but didn’t hesitate to kiss you softly, slowly, sweetly, just as you had hoped he would. Just as he had read you had wanted. You sighed happily into the embrace, resting your hands on his chest as his hands slid onto your hips. He really did know you better than you knew yourself, sometimes.

“Someone missed me,” Chris mused, when the kiss eventually broke.

You couldn’t help but groan. “Oh you have no idea,”

Chris barked out a laugh, ducking his head to kiss you briefly again. “I have a little bit of an idea,” he teased.

Raising an eyebrow at his grin only made it wider, and he turned the burner to low so he could focus on you fully. Well this should be interesting.

“Firstly, you haven’t texted me all day. Not that that’s a bad thing…but on a usual day you message me little anecdotes about your colleagues, which you didn’t do. That means you’re either mad at me or extremely busy. Considering that incredible goodbye kiss you gave me when you left this morning, I figured it was more likely that you were busy,”

You couldn’t help but nod and laugh softly, agreeing with every point he made.

“Extremely busy, and definitely not mad at you,” you confirmed.

“Well that’s a relief,” Chris teaser.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you leaned your head up and captured his lips in another kiss, earning a soft moan from your boyfriend, an even softer sigh when you pulled away. Chris just smiled sweetly at you, his eyes crinkling in a way that showed you he was just as happy as your were.

So far, so good.

“Anything else?” you mused, turning that soft moment back to the conversation at hand.

“Of course,” he shot back with a wink.

You laughed again at his sass, flourishing your hand as if to say ‘go on’.

“Okay, so, secondly your Spotify account usually pops up on my iPad when you’re listening to your happy productive playlist at work. You had nothing playing at all today, which made me guess that you had a lot of phone calls…and you hate phone calls,”

Two for two. And in perfect detail too. Ouch. Was it really that obvious?

Chris saw the slight wince on your face at being caught out, his grin fading to a reassuring smile, his hand moving to rest on your thigh lightly. His hand squeezed, saying I’m teasing. You squeezed his hand, saying I know.

“What’s your third point?” you asked, smiling softly.

Chris bit his bottom lip, trying to hide his smile, but he failed miserably which just made you smile in return. He was so adorable.

“You usually send me a cute little picture of your lunch. I know it’s only a little thing, but it always puts a smile on my face, knowing that you’re thinking of me. You didn’t do that today, and considering everything else, I figured that this meant you’d skipped lunch. So I thought I’d make an easy favourite dinner of yours, to see if it would make your day even a little bit better,” he finished.

And with that, your heart just about melted. The fact that he noticed all the little things, and that those little things mattered to him too? Well, that just summed him up didn’t it? Kind, caring, thoughtful, a little bit of a tease and a lot of a perfect boyfriend. Wow.

“Oh honey it makes my day a whole lot better. More than you could even imagine. I don’t even know how to start in thanking you,” you murmured, raising a hand to cup his face gently.

Chris turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, making your heart beat that little bit faster. And he smiled at the hitch in your breath.

“How about you slip into something more comfortable while I pour you a large glass of wine, and then you can indulge in that while I finish cooking. After we’ve eaten…well, we can have dessert,” Chris suggested.

The way his eyes darkened slightly at the mention of dessert made you shiver in anticipation. Oh yes, that was exactly what you needed.

“Sounds perfect,” you murmured, a little breathier than you intended.

Chris’s smile sharpened, a promise indeed. “We’ll make this day better together, I promise you that,”

#my writing #chris krieder #I love kreids and I love you too jade #here’s your og husband to brighten your day!#chris kreider fic #chris kreider fanfic #chris kreider imagine #chris kreider x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl writing #hockey fic #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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imagines4thefandoms · 3 years

Text

The Ramen Filth (Batfam x Reader)

requested: no

word count: 18k+

“Y/n what are your plans for spring break,” your best friend (Bff/n) asked as the two of you walked out of your last class.

“I'm going to go home actually. I miss everyone,” you told them.

“So no trip to Bora Bora, a week on a yacht,” they asked slightly pushing you.

“Nope, just me my brother, father, Alfred, and my bed,” you replied pushing them back.

When you guys left the building they went to their car while you headed to your dorm room. It always surprised people when they found out that you lived on campus. “You’re a Wayne. Why don’t you live in some penthouse in the city.” “Why are you slumming it here?” Well, you wanted the whole college experience.

When you entered your dorm room, you tried to pack your bags quietly so as not to wake up your roommate. But that didn’t work cause when you were grabbing some clothes and throwing them into a suitcase, she woke up.

“Excited to go home,” they asked you sitting up in bed.

“I haven’t seen them since August,” you replied searching around your room for your car keys. “So maybe a little.”

After you found your keys, you proceeded to gather the rest of the stuff you were bringing home with you. Your roommate got out of bed and went to grab a drink from the fridge. You looked over at her and watched her shotgun a bud light.

“Jesus (r/n) it's 2 in the afternoon,” you exclaimed throwing your computer bag on your bed.

“Well for me it's breakfast,” she replied grabbing a hoodie from their closet and grabbing their backpack. “Well off to class. Drive safe.”

You shook your head at them and waved them off, while you grabbed some snacks to enjoy while at the manor. After grabbing, your suitcase, computer bag, backpack, purse, and dirty clothes you headed out to your car. There was quite a long walk from your dorm to your car cause parking is hell but many people had already left so there was a straight shot to the car. You popped the trunk of your car and put everything in the trunk.

After getting in the driver’s seat and starting the car. You set up your fave Spotify playlist and started to head back home. The college you attend is just outside Gotham which your father kind of insisted. You didn’t really object. Sure you loved Gotham even with all the craziness it held but it has been nice being able to walk around town and not get mugged or have a city block shut down due to dad and the joker.

Once you crossed Gotham City limits, you kind of tensed up and double-checked that the doors were locked but once you were closer to Wayne Manor you started to relax. You really enjoyed the scenery on the ride home. It reminded you of when Dad first brought you home after your mother left you at GCPD with a note letting them know you belong to Bruce.

The Manor came into view and you saw Damian and Titus running around in the yard. You pulled up to the front door and Titus jumped at your door, either he was excited you were home or ready to attack you. Damian called Titus over to him then ran over to open the door for you.

“Sister you’re home,” he said in his usually monotone but this time he gave hug.

“I missed you to bud,” you replied hugging him back.

He helped you get your stuff out of your trunk and carried it into the house. You placed your suitcase and dirty closed by the front door while Damian brought the rest to your room. Jason was in the living room with Tim playing video games. Dick was either at work or in the cave training and the same could be said for dad.

“Honey I'm home,” you called out.

“Y/n,” Jason and Tim yelled running to give you a hug.

Jason tripped Tim in order to hug you first. Tim got up, punched Jason in the arm then gave you a hug. You missed this. Your annoying brothers. They didn’t give you time to breathe. They just grabbed your arm and pulled you over to the couch to play their video games with them. Alfred walked into the room and a smile appeared on his face when he saw you.

“Welcome home, miss. Y/n,” he said walking over to you to give you a hug.

“I missed you,” you replied returning the hug.

“I suppose you have something for me,” he asked letting you go.

“Yes sir, by the front door.”

Once Alfred left you decided to play a round or two with Jay and Tim. You were so in the zone of kicking their asses you didn’t notice when your dad came home. He just stood behind the couch and watched four of his kids play video games without a care in the world.

“Come one, you weren’t smart enough to see that coming college girl,” Jason teased as he was beating you.

“Prepare to die again Jason,” you said as you beat the crap out of him and killing him.

“You cheated,” he said throwing down the controller.

“No you just suck, Todd,” Damian said defending you.

Someone behind you coughs. You turned around as saw dad and Dick standing there. You got up from the couch and ran to give your dad a hug. After he left you to go, which took a while you gave your favorite older brother a hug.

“I missed you,” you said looking between your brother and father.

“Right back at ya kid,” Dick said ruffling your hair.

After giving your dad another hug, you returned to kick Tim’s ass this time. You kicked Tim’s Damian’s, Dick’s, and Jason’s ass (again) at the game before Alfred came in and announced that dinner was ready. Your stomach did like a backflip from the excitement of Alfred’s cooking. It had been a long time since you had a home-cooked meal; you kind of lived off ramen, cereal, and coffee for the past 9 months. You jumped with joy when you saw that he made (favorite meal).

“Aw Alfred I love you,” you said taking a seat at the dinner table.

The meal was delicious, no surprise there. After dinner, you caught them up on everything, even though you basically call home every day. Damian made a comment about how he missed having you around and Jason teased him about it which caused the two of them to fight. Tim got excited about the 24/7 library and coffee shop. That boy worries you sometimes. Dick kept asking about the security and how safe you are even though he basically interviewed every campus officer when you first moved in.

“This is nice and all but don’t you boys have a night job to do,” you asked getting up from the table.

“My daughter is home from college after 9 months. I don’t have to go out the boys have it,” your father replied.

“Daddy, i will be home for 9 long days. Go plus I was hoping you would so I could catch up on sleep. LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE DO,” you yelled the last part so Tim could hear. “Just wake me up when you get back so I know you're safe.

“Alright,” he agreed to get up and heading down to the cave.

“Be safe guys,” you warned them before they went down.

“Always am,” Jason replied which really didn’t sit well with you.

You asked Alfred if he wanted help cleaning but he declined the offer and told you to go to bed. Not needed to be told twice, you went up to your room and just plopped on the bed.

“I forgot how comfortable this bed was,” you said to yourself.

You decided that you needed to change into pj's, so you climbed out of bed and changed only to lay back on the cloud. Sleep took over about five minutes after your head hit the pillow and it was wonderful. But it didn’t last. You woke up and check to see what time it was. 2:19. Going back to sleep wasn’t going to work, so you decided to sneak downstairs for some late-night ramen. You grabbed the (favorite flavor) ramen from your backpack and then headed downstairs. It took a while to find the kettle cause Alfred is very particular about where things go but after you found it, you boiled some water and make the ramen. You were sitting at the table enjoying your snack when the lights came. You froze with noodles hanging out of your mouth when you saw that it was Alfred.

“What are you eating,” he asked disgustingly.

“Ramen,” you replied with a mouth full of noodles. He shook his head and grabbed the bowl.

“Hey give it back.”

“This isn’t food y/n. Do you eat this often while away at school,” he asked kind of scared of your answer?

“Only when I'm hungry,” you replied with a sweet smile.

“unacceptable. You will never eat this filth again,” he promised as he tossed the food in the trashcan.

“Hey, that was my last bag. And that filth is delicious.”

“No Wayne child will eat this especially under my roof,” he warned grabbing a pan and placing it on the stove.

“What are you doing,” you inquired.

“Making you a proper meal.”

“No the point of ramen is that it's not filling. I'm not that hungry I just couldn’t go back to sleep.”

He ignored your comment and proceeded to make your grilled cheese and tomato soup. Alfred placed the food in front of you and shook his head as he went back down to the cave. You had eaten half the ramen already and were kind of full but the grilled cheese smelled so good. So after eating basically a second dinner you went back to sleep. Being home was great.

The rest of your time home was just like you never left. You had a daddy/daughter date and helped everybody train. There was also a small family trip to the amusement park, which was amazing. Damian ate too much and threw up on dad. Best day ever. When it was time to go back to school, you hugged everyone bye and dad helped you pack your car. Before you left Alfred handed you two tote bags.

“Promise me that you will call if you need food. And never eat that filth again,” he warned you in his caring way.

You looked in the bag and saw that he and meal prepped for you. There was enough food here for the next week. Alfred always takes care of you.

“Thanks, Alfred. And I promise.��

Ever since then Alfred and made it his mission to drive up every weekend to bring you meals for the week. Sure it was kind of embarrassing, especially when he didn’t it in the quad during lunch. But you weren’t going to complain. Alfred’s cooking was amazing.

#batfam x y/n #batfam imagine #college life #ramen #batfam x reader

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clouditae · 3 years

Text

First Love | 20

Word: 3.8k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

“All you had to do was take a shower, but nooo, you wanted to talk for almost two hours and now look at you,” Ari begins, practically smacking your forehead with a wet cloth, “a gross looking person.”

You sniffle, closing your eyes and trying your best to ignore your best friend. Yes she’s right, but you really don’t feel like hearing her for the eighth time today. So what can you do? She’s taking care of you, taking your temperature, giving you medicine to help with the fever and cough, and even getting your dinner for you. She truly is your best friend.

“I’m sorry,” you whine, hoping that she’ll ease up on you finally. Those hopes are shot down immediately when she mocks you back, stuffing the thin sheet under your body like you’re a burrito. “Ari.”

“Go to sleep, I’ll have your dinner when you wake up,” she instructs, and you do as told, waiting for her to go back to her desk so you can unstuff yourself and sleep on your side, falling asleep almost immediately when you’re comfortable.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been out so far, but you’re still completely tired when you hear Ari mumble rather loudly, “What? Where are you?” You shift in your bed as she whispers harshly, “I’ll be over right now.”

Opening your eyes to a squint, you watch as Ari grabs her wallet and phone before heading towards the door. You sit up on your elbow, asking, “Where are you going?”

She looks at you in surprise, hand clutching the door handle. “Hoseok told me the cafeteria only has two ice cream sandwiches left—you know how I feel about my ice cream,” Ari blurts out, face flushed.

“Oh. Okay,” you mumble, lowering yourself back down. “Hope you make it in time,” you add.

She lets out an awkward laugh. “Yeah.” The door opens. “I’ll bring your dinner once I’m done.” And with that, she’s out the door, her footsteps loudly echoing the hall until you can no longer hear them.

It doesn’t take long before you’re fast asleep, a few coughs waking you up every now and then until the feeling of fingers brushing along the side of your face, removing strands of hair away, fully wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes, letting them adjust to the brightness until they’re fully open and you see Yoongi standing next to your bed, his fingers stopping behind your ear.

“Yoongi?” you ask, not believing your eyes and fever.

“I brought your dinner,” he tells you, holding up a green, plastic food container. “You need to eat,” he includes, removing his hand from your face.

You don’t really have an appetite, but when the delicious smell of chicken invades your senses, your stomach immediately lurches forward as if you haven’t eaten in months. You sit up, pushing your blanket off you as you cross your legs and lean against the wall your bed is against. Watching Yoongi climb onto your bed, he sits next to you, handing you one of the green food containers, the other remaining with him.

Opening the container you’re greeted with all your favorites—chicken strips, French fries, a salad, and a snickerdoodle. Ari really knows how to give you the best even though she was mad at you hours ago. You let out a small smile as you grab your fork that was placed inside the container. You happily begin with your salad, saving the best for last—which is everything else.

“If you feel like you can’t eat it, I brought you soup,” he tells you, watching you as you shove a forkful of salad in your mouth. You turn to look at him as you pull in what’s left of the salad sticking out of your mouth with your tongue. He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he adds, “I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine eating it, but there’s still the soup if you want that as well.”

Usually you’d be cautious with how you eat—well at least not eat like a pig, but you haven’t had anything besides soup for two days now. Your body is deprived of the good stuff, and you’ll definitely eat the soup after this. Here’s to hoping you don’t get sick from stuffing your face with all this food. As the two of you eat, Yoongi places his phone between the two of you and presses play to a video.

You finish your salad, and begin on your favorites. You place a fry into your mouth, tasting the salt and the warmth as if it had just been made. It’s never tasted so good, but you’re about to down this whole thing right now.

“Slow down. You’re gonna choke,” Yoongi comments when you keep shoving fries in your mouth and not properly chewing the ones currently waiting to be consumed. You nod, slowly chewing your food before swallowing it and eating the rest of your dinner slowly.

The rest of the dinner is a comfortable silence between the two of you as you eat your dinners and watch the video. You’re on your final chicken strip when from the corner of your eye, you watch Yoongi turn to look at you. He watches you for a moment before his hand moves up towards your face, the tips of his fingers brushing along your cheek before brushing strands of your hair back behind your ear. You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks and heart begin to race as his hand moves to your forehead, palm pressing against your skin.

“You’re still burning,” he mumbles, moving his hand down to your neck. “How do you feel?” he asks, his hand leaving your warmed skin.

Swallowing your last bite, you answer, “Tired and thirsty.” Yoongi reaches towards your desk next to him, handing you a white, plastic cup. You take it, muttering, “Thank you.” Pressing your lips to the lid, you tilt the cup and drink. Just like the food, water has never tasted so good.

When you’ve finished all that you can, and the empty boxes are put away, you rest your back against the wall, watching the rest of the film. It doesn’t take long before your eyes grow heavy and you fall asleep.

Waking up the following morning, it takes you a minute to realize Yoongi’s back is to you in bed. He’s sound asleep on his side, the back of his hair disheveled, his soft snores can barely be heard over the sound of the air conditioning. Did he stay here the whole night? How was he comfortable the whole night on this twin sized bed with the both of you?

Yet, even though you can’t see his face, his body looks so relaxed and comfortable. You can imagine what he looks like asleep—the memory from the library still fresh in your mind. His lips are slightly parted, long lashes fan over his rosy cheeks, tips of his hair resting along the lids of his eyes.

You can’t believe he stayed the whole night. The thought of it makes your heart race, a grin spreading across your lips as you move forward and press your forehead against his back, burying your face. You lightly wrap your arm around his waist, trying your best not to wake up. However, you feel his hand grab yours, pulling it up close to his chest, interlocking his fingers with yours as best he can. Maybe it’s just your fever, but you feel warmer as the two of you stay like this for a while.

“You hungry?” he asks, voice raspy. You shake your head, wanting nothing more than to just enjoy this moment forever. “You should at least—” The sound of his phone chiming cuts him off. Releasing your hand, he fishes in his pocket before you hear the click of his phone unlocking and all is silent for a moment. Yoongi sighs after a few seconds before putting his phone back in his pocket. He takes your hand again, lifting it off him before sitting up and taking it in his other hand. He looks down at you, stating, “I have to go. Someone wants a piece done.” He rubs his thumb along your skin.

“You didn’t have to stay so late if you had work today,” you tell him, feeling guilty because he took care of you.

He shakes his head in response. “They just came in today willing to pay double for me to come in and be their artist.”

“Then you should hurry,” you tell him, sitting up in bed. You take in his features and you finally notice the bruise around his left eye and the small scab at the corner of his mouth. “Did I hit you in my sleep?” You reach out to touch his hurt lip, eyes going back up to his bruised eye. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper, guilt washing over you completely.

Yoongi lets out a small chuckle, taking your other hand in his. “I was playing basketball with some friends and I wasn’t paying attention,” he answers, holding your hands as if he’s trying to put you at ease. You feel more relaxed knowing you didn’t punch him in your sleep last night, so you nod in reply. He releases your hands and cups your cheeks. “I’ll see you later, okay?” Letting out a hum in response, Yoongi leans in to kiss you, but is stopped when your hand is over your mouth.

He looks at you in confusion. “I’m sick,” you mumble. He sighs, but says nothing and places a kiss on your forehead before hopping off your bed, putting on his shoes as he grabs his belongings and heads out the door.

When the door closes, you can’t help but let out the biggest smile you can. You can’t believe Yoongi stayed all night with you. Maybe you should get sick more often.

Climbing out of bed, you begin to gather your clothes and caddie as you head towards the bathroom to shower. Before your hand reaches the handle, the dorm door opens with Ari waddling in. You watch her struggle with her backpack and several textbooks in hand. She smiles at you as she finally gets past the door.

"Good morning, sunshine," she chimes, walking across the room towards you and placing her stuff on her bed across from you. "How'd you sleep? Did you sleep?"

If you didn't have a fever, you're pretty sure you would be blushing right now. "We didn't do anything," you reply, holding your towel closer as if it will protect you from being seen.

"Not yet."

"What about you?" you deflect. "Did you sleep last night?"

Ari scoffs, "Of course not. We went at it for hours—"

"I'm taking a shower," you interrupt, grabbing the handle and pulling the door open quickly, hearing Ari laugh as you close the door behind you.

You wring out the cloth, watching the water drops roll down your hands and into the sink before you make your way towards the occupied bed where Yoongi lies. Placing the cloth on his forehead, another wave of guilt hits you hard. You let him stay with you when you were sick, and now look at him. He looks just as bad as you did.

“Do you want me to bring you some soup?” you ask, pressing the back of your hand to his neck. He’s still warm.

He shakes his head, saying, “You shouldn’t be in here. You’ll catch a fever again.”

“I’m the one who gave you this fever,” you counter. “It’s not fair to just let you take it on all on your own.” Yoongi chuckles, but soon after coughs. “See?” you begin, grabbing his bottled water and unscrewing the cap, handing him his drink, “your fever is worse than mine.”

“You’re not sleeping here,” he tells you, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“You’ll get Hoseok sick if he stays here with you,” you argue.

The door opens and you turn your head to see Hoseok enter the room. “Tell Y/N that she can’t stay here,” Yoongi says, catching Hoseok completely off guard.

“What?” Hoseok asks, obviously confused by Yoongi’s sudden demand.

“She’s trying to stay here even though she just got better.”

“Sorry, Y/N,” Hoseok begins, tossing his gym bag on his bed, “Yoongi’s right.”

“You’ll get sick if you stay here, too,” you tell him, hoping Hoseok will take your side.

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” You watch as Hoseok makes his way over towards you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “He’ll be fine. Plus, Ari wants to do a double date, so you both need to be healthy.” He spins you around to face your boyfriend. “Now tell him goodnight,” he instructs.

“Night,” you mumble, slightly mad that Hoseok isn’t backing you up. You got sick already and you gave it to him, so why can’t they let you take care of him?

Yoongi finally opens his eyes, taking your hand in his and rubbing his thumb across your skin. “I’ll see you when I’m not sick anymore,” he tells you, giving you a tired smile before Hoseok practically spins you around and pushes you out his room.

“Bye Y/N—have a good day and we’ll see you later,” Hoseok rushes, opening the door and leading you out. You’re standing in the empty hallway as the door closes behind you. That’s new.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you walk up to your door and pull your ID out of your pocket, pressing it to the scanner and hearing the familiar unlocking sound. Opening the door you see Ari standing next to her desk, eyes turning away from the textbook in her hand to you.

“Hoseok pushed him out of the room,” you tell her, still in slight shock by his sudden behavior.

Ari chuckles, shaking her head. “He was having stomach pains earlier, so he probably didn’t want you hearing him cry or something.”

Your brows raise in understanding. “Ohhh.”

You make your way towards your desk, pulling out your chair as you take a seat and open your laptop, watching the black screen come to life. Unlocking the screen, Ari clears her throat.

“So since you and Yoongi are finally a thing,” she starts, getting your attention, “Hoseok and I want to do a double date.”

“A double date? Where?” you ask, leaning against your chair.

“Your typical dinner and a movie,” she answers, closing her textbook and placing it on the only empty spot on her desk. “We’ll do the dinner first—nothing fancy, just a simple dinner back at the diner and then a movie.”

“The diner?”

She grins. “Yeah. It’s the place where we had our first double date,” she informs, climbing onto her bed, resting on her stomach, facing you.

“It wasn’t a double date,” you quickly counter, hoping the blush forming on your cheeks isn’t obvious.

“I don’t know,” she hints, “Yoongi was looking at you differently in the back seat that day.”

“W-what?” Your blush is for sure obvious now.

Ari laughs, propping her legs up like she’s some teenager talking with you about boys—technically you are, but the way she’s swaying her legs makes you feel like you’re sixteen.

“I bet you a hundred bucks that Yoongi caught feelings for you back then. Maybe even before then,” she gushes, kicking her feet back and forth.

“Well I’d for sure win because I don’t think he liked me back then,” you comment, turning your attention back to your computer.

It takes Yoongi around a week for his fever to disappear and for you to finally see him again. You haven’t seen him yet, but you will see him in a bit as the four of you head towards the diner for your double date.

Ari is double checking your make-up—the brush forming circles on your cheeks to blend the blush in. When she’s done, she takes a step back to admire her work. “You look amazing,” she tells you. “I should have gone to school for this rather than linguistics,” she sighs, shaking her head as she places the brush on her desk next to you.

You chuckle, getting up from her desk chair and head towards the mirror to look yourself over. You spent hours trying to figure out what to wear. Should you go for something cute? Casual?

You’ve been on a double date with Ari and Hoseok before, but that was with Hanbin. This time you’re with Yoongi, and Yoongi makes you feel completely different than Hanbin did. You’re nervous. Scared.

“You look fine, Y/N,” Ari groans when she realizes you’re second guessing your outfit. You’re wearing a black sweater, blue jeans and sneakers. You look so plain, but Ari did say it’s a dinner at the diner and then a movie. You guys aren’t going anywhere fancy, so why are you stressing so much?

“I’m freaking out for some reason,” you confess. “More than I did with Hanbin.”

“You had feelings for Hanbin, Y/N.” You watch your roommate from the mirror, her eyes focused on the small mirror on her desk as she applies mascara. “You have feelings for Yoongi, too, but this is different.” She looks at you through her mirror. “You’re in love with Yoongi.”

Your heart races at the memory—words you have forgotten you even told him come flooding back. She’s right. When you dated Hanbin, you had feelings for him, but now that you’re dating Yoongi—this is even before you started dating him, you fell in love with him… when did you fall in love with him?

When did your heart decide that it’s no longer a crush but something more?

“Okay I’m done,” Ari says, interrupting your thoughts. She gets up from her seat and turns to you. “Ready to go?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, swallowing the lump in your throat as you walk to your bed and grab your bag and phone.

Following your best friend out the room, Hoseok and Yoongi have just stepped into the hallway. Their gaze meets yours, and for a second the world around you disappears. He looks the same, but you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all over again.

You’re in the MPR on move in day three years ago. You’re standing in the corner with Ari, the room filled with students from your floor are talking to one another, waiting for the RAs to begin the meeting.

Ari is talking about a couple of cute people in the room—some tall, short hair, long hair, beards, and so on, but you’re not listening. You happen to look across the room and see him leaning against the wall. Strands of his black hair are peaking through his cap, just grazing along his forehead. His expression is bored, eyes cast to the ground in front of him. The person next to him is talking, but just like you, he’s not listening. He’s in his own world.

However, he finally looks up and towards the front where the RAs finally begin the meeting. Your eyes never stray from his direction. You feel as though you’ve been captivated. The world around you is going silent, the only thing you can see is him. You’ve never felt this way before—never had your heart beat so fast, breath catch in your throat, it’s weird.

“Are you staring at your future boyfriend?” Ari asks, causing you to jump and finally look at her.

“What?” you mutter, heat rising in your cheeks.

Your new roommate chuckles, looking back towards the front. “We’ll talk about it in the room,” she says, a smile still on her face.

You look towards the front, hoping your cheeks aren’t as red as you think they are. However, your eyes drift over towards the stranger again, but as your eyes land on him, you realize he’s looking at you.

It’s strange. For that brief moment, the world lights up around him and you forget where you are. And as you said, it was a brief moment because you immediately look away when you realize he’s looking at you.

Maybe, just maybe, it was that moment you fell in love with him without even knowing you did.

“Ready to go?” Hoseok asks, holding his hand out towards Ari.

She happily takes it and replies, “We are.” They make their way down the hall and you follow, but you’re stopped short when you feel Yoongi grab your wrist. You look back to him, his eyes already on you. You swear your heart skipped a beat.

“We’ll be there in a sec,” he tells the other two, and you look back towards them, watching them as they stare at you in confusion for a second. Then it seems they understand faster than you do.

“Okay,” Ari answers, looking to you with a teasing like smile.

The two turn back around and continue down the hall and out the door, leaving just you and Yoongi in the hallway. Finally, you turn to look at him and ask, “Is everything okay?”

“I just needed a moment with you,” he replies, pulling you back towards him as he digs in his pocket and pulls out his ID. He presses it to his scanner and opens the door, pulling you in with him. The room is dark, but you can still see the outlines of the room.

When the door closes, you’re pushed up against it, Yoongi pinning you. You can feel his breath hitting your lips. “I don’t think I can wait until we’re alone,” he tells you.

You understand what he means and say nothing but press your lips to his with the need that’s been building up since you last kissed him. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back, cupping your cheeks. Your heart is racing as the two of you kiss with urgency. His mint breath invades your nostrils, his breathing heavy as his lips move along yours.

You grab onto his shirt, pulling him closer to you, wanting to feel as much heat as possible. Yoongi understands your need and presses himself against you, pinning you completely against the wall, his hands leaving your face and going to your waist.

His tongue brushes along your lower lip. You comply with his need, opening your mouth for his tongue to explore. Your tongues dance along with each other, exploring new territory. Yoongi’s hands travel under your sweater, his warm fingers brushing along your skin, sending a chill throughout your body.

You let out a small gasp, body feeling warm all over, wanting more. You begin to lift his hoodie, ready for whatever is about to happen, but Yoongi pulls back lightly, the tips of his fingers no longer on your skin.

“‘They’re waiting for us,” he gasps, lips brushing along yours as he spoke.

You don’t care. You want to stay right where you are. You want him.

#bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bangtanuniversity #btsgoldnet #btswritersguild #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi au

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riversofmars · 3 years

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Interrupting my usual broadcast of DW fic to bring you another British gay mess: Please enjoy my first attempt at Caroline/Gillian! And as if I haven't got enough WIPs on, this is gonna be four parts, as it turns out! I don't know why I'm like this :D Anyway here we are due to popular demand!

Gillian takes Caroline up on her offer of moving in together and pooling their resources. A month has gone by and Caroline is surprised at how easy and comfortable life on the farm has become. The arrangement works for both of them: Gillian's financial struggles are a thing of the past and while it isn’t exactly the traditional family set-up Caroline would have wanted, Gillian turned out to be exactly what she needed in a partner to help raise her daughter. Adding romance to the otherwise perfect set-up is a pipe-dream on the headteacher's part, but the more time she spends with the sheep farmer, the more drawn she is to her. Rating: M (language & sexual themes)

Home Is Not A Place - Part 1: The Dinner

“For goodness sake,“ Caroline groaned, as she stepped out of her SUV and right into a puddle. Resigned to her changed situation, she decided from now on she would have to switch shoes after work, from her favourite heels, to a lesser loved pair. There was no two ways about it. But at least then there would be absolutely no danger of ruining a two-hundred pound pair of Jimmy Choos, upon her arrival at Greenwood farm. Of course she wouldn’t mention this to Gillian, God no, otherwise her Christmas present to her might end up a new pair of wellingtons.

In the open court yard of the farm, the wind was biting cold and encouraged the headteacher to hurry up the stairs to the relative safety and comfort of the house. Caroline cursed under her breath as the wind wreaked havoc with her hair, and the cold crept up her legs, underneath her woefully-inappropriate-for-farm-life pencil skirt. The British weather was really giving its all this year to live up to its reputation. Well in the grip of Winter already, it only took Caroline to stay late at work by an hour - like today - and night had already fallen. Preparations for this year’s Nativity were gathering steam and - being the hands-on headmistress she was - there was no way Caroline would allow the theatre department to shoulder the burden all on their own. Working late would usually have required a lot of planning for a single parent such as herself, but things had gotten a lot easier, recently.

“Hiya Caz,“ Gillian called from the lounge, when Caroline closed the front door of the farm house behind her and smiled at the chipper greeting.

“Hiya!“ She called back and pushed her soaked shoes into a corner. With any luck, Gillian wouldn’t spot them and she could deal with them later. The sheep farmer would only get suspicious if she lingered in the hallway for too long. “Evening,“ Caroline smiled as she stepped into the living room. Flora and Calamity were sitting on the sofa in front of the tv, dressed in pyjamas. She walked over to them, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s head and then, for good measure, repeated the gesture on Calamity. The girls were the closest of friends and since Caroline and Flora had moved in at the farm, they had become closer still - almost like real siblings - and Caroline had found herself treating them as such with increasing frequency.

“Wet out, is it?“ Gillian smirked, observing Caroline’s dishevelled head of hair, drawing her attention. The sheep farmer was leaning against the kitchen counter, mug in hand, assessing her over the rim of it.

“What’s this?“ Caroline raised her eyebrows, as she spotted two - and only two! - places set at the kitchen table, complete with wine glasses.

“Girls have eaten. Just having a bit of telly before bed,“ Gillian explained, nodding towards the pre-schoolers that were engrossed in their cartoons. “Lasagne is in oven, thought you might be hungry, with your long day n’all.“

“You made lasagne?“ Caroline asked, though it sounded more bewildered than she had intended. It wasn’t uncommon that Gillian would cook for all of them. She was the one at home, her work was here, it made sense. Caroline was a woman of science, of hard facts, so she liked things to make sense. But for some reason, coming home to Gillian Greenwood - who had cooked for her and looked after her daughter - was still something of curiosity, despite empirical evidence to the contrary. Caroline was still not quite used to it, no matter how much sense it made.

Caroline had managed to convince Gillian of the sense behind them pooling their resources not long after she had floated the idea for the first time. Her and Flora moved in at the farm a month ago, and much to everyone’s surprise - and her mother’s dismay - it worked surprisingly well. This was not the first time she had come home to a cooked meal, it was becoming a regular occurrence, so Caroline was at a loss as to why this time, it felt different. Perhaps it was the absence of Raff and Ellie who - as Caroline now remembered - had been invited to Ellie’s mother’s to parade around the little one. Perhaps it was because there were only two places set at the table. Or perhaps it was the warmth of Gillian’s chuckled as she replied:

“Well, had to make something.“

“You really didn’t have to, I don’t… expect to come home to a home cooked meal every day,“ Caroline felt obliged to state, just for the record, though she knew that Gillian would do whatever the bloody hell she wanted anyway. It wasn’t like Caroline - or anyone else for that matter - had any bearing on what this infuriatingly independent and bull-headed woman did or didn’t do.

“Nice though, innit,“ the sheep farmer shot back with surprising enthusiasm. “Guess that was part of the deal. Least I can do, mind the kids and cook you some tea.“ She gave a shrug like it was nothing; when to Caroline, it was a huge deal. This wasn’t something she would have admitted to, of course; just as she wouldn’t have admitted that there was something very appealing about coming home to Gillian.

“I’m not expecting you to pretend to be my stay-at-home housewife or something, Gillian,“ Caroline tried to brush it off with a joke.

“You better not. Cause that’s not me,“ Gillian retorted with good-natured humour, and it struck Caroline that she was a far cry from the tense, short-fused woman she’d met seven years ago. It was moments such as these, that the headteacher realised how much she had changed. Healing would be too strong a word for it; Caroline couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly heal from what Gillian had been through, but she seemed to be doing, better. She seemed more comfortable in her own skin, and more comfortable with her life. Secretly, Caroline hoped she had contributed to her wellbeing in some small way; even if it was just by giving her the security that she wouldn’t have to give up the farm.

“Don’t I know it,“ Caroline chuckled. “Wine, too, is it?“ She picked up the bottle on the table and checked the label. It was one of her favourites and for a moment, she wasn’t sure whether Gillian had remembered, or if they’d still had that bottle lying round somewhere. “Is there a special occasion? One month since we moved in?“ It wasn’t like she had been counting…well, she had. But only to be able to lord it over her mother about how long they had managed to stay under the same roof, without tearing each other’s heads off…or each other’s clothes…she added as an after thought. But only for her own amusement, not for public consumption.

“I guess I just…wanted to say thank you…for agreeing to this,“ Gillian huffed, suddenly appearing self-conscious, as if she wondered whether she had made a mistake. Caroline felt guilty immediately. For someone with self-esteem as fragile as Gillian, doubts came quickly, and cut deep.

“It was my idea! It’s to both of our advantage. I couldn’t have carried on the way it was, particularly now that our parents aren’t…able…to help as much as before…“ Caroline was quick to assure her. It had made a lot of sense, and she was glad she had managed to persuade Gillian of the proposal’s merit. Even once their parents had volunteered the money to pay for the work on the roof, it didn’t change the fact that Gillian was barely breaking even financially. Certainly not with the sheep that had escaped a few months ago, and once Raff and Ellie moved out - which was only a matter of time - they wouldn’t be contributing anymore, either. Gillian needed someone with her, and Caroline was more than happy to be that person, for numerous reasons. Some of them she cared to discuss, like the practicalities of it, some she would keep to herself, thank you very much.

“Just wanted to say, I do appreciate it, Caz,“ Gillian interrupted and held her hands up, as if she just had to get that out there - and would shut up now that it was said. “And I hope you’re not gonna regret it.“

“Gillian, we’ve known each other seven years now,“ Caroline couldn’t help but point out, as she set the bottle of wine back down on the table. “Yes, we’ve had our ups and downs, but all things considered, I think we’re about as steady as our parents, don’t you think?“ She gave her a soft smile. They really had come an incredibly far way since they first laid eyes on each other. To this day, Caroline was still embarrassed about her behaviour on the day they’s met, and was beyond relieved that with time, Gillian had come to see the funny side of the whole thing.

“Suppose so. Just without the sex,“ Gillian snickered and took a sip of her tea, hiding her grin in her mug as she seemed to relax again.

“I don’t want to think about our parents having sex, thank you very much!“ Caroline exclaimed, mortified, and quickly turned to check the girls hadn’t accidentally overheard. To her relief, she found them still very much engrossed in their tv show.

“God no. I don’t know if they still can, I mean, at their age…“ Gillian huffed, matter-of-factly. “And with his heart too, better mind his blood pressure hadn’t he… Mind you, probably wouldn’t be worst way t’go. Right in throes of…“

“Yes, right. That’s it, change of subject please!“ Caroline shook her head vehemently and Gillian laughed.

“Go and get changed, didn’t mean to ambush you, it’ll keep.“ She gestured to the oven. “I’ll get little ones in bed.“

“If you’re sure.“ Caroline glanced at the clock. She hadn’t realised how late it was. “How about bath time?“

“All this fun stuff you miss out on when you work late. It’s done and dusted. Go on. You don’t wanna be throwing lasagne down that fancy blouse o’ yours,“ Gillian observed, nodding towards her cream blouse.

“Right.“ Caroline gave a soft smile and watched the sheep farmer gulp down the rest of her tea, before sitting it down in the sink.

“You want me to make you a cuppa first?“ Gillian asked, seemingly confused as to why Caroline hadn’t taken her up on the offer yet, instead lingering in the kitchen.

“No, no, it’s fine, I’ll have wine if that’s going,“ Caroline answered quickly, snapping out of her moment of marvelling at how bloody perfect life was right about now to retrieve the corkscrew.

“Well, you know where everything is by now, don’t you. It’s your home too,“ Gillian observed, with an ease that astounded Caroline, that Gillian didn’t seem to think anything of. She just headed to the sofa where she put an arm around each of the girls from behind. “Right you two monsters, show’s over, off to bed wi’ you,“ she announced, leaving Caroline to forget all about the wine. She just watched the display of perfect family life in awe.

——

“Is it bad that I’m sort of looking forward to Raff and Ellie moving out?“ Caroline mused, watching Gillian’s reaction over the rim of her wine glass. “With the baby and everything, the walls aren’t exactly thick.“

“You knew that before moving in,“ Gillian pointed out. She wasn’t unkind about it, she was amused if nothing else.

“Yes, and I’m not complaining. I just didn’t think I’d be doing this still, at gone fifty, I mean…I’m just glad Flora is through the worst of it now.“ Even now, there were still times where Caroline wondered whether she was too old for all this. She had two grown up sons, starting again with Flora and doing it all on her own had been tough. Thankfully, finally, she wasn’t alone anymore. It wasn’t exactly the traditional family set-up she would have longed for, but she knew Gillian would be everything Flora needed in a second parent. She could also be everything Caroline needed in a partner, but that was just wishful thinking on the headteacher’s part. She would content herself with the way things were, as it was shaping up to be everything she wanted, just sadly minus the romance.

“Nowt saying William or Lawrence couldn’t have started early,“ Gillian retorted and Caroline laughed:

“William? Please!“ They were on their third glass of red and Caroline was feeling warm and relaxed. Her reactions had lost the restraint and reservedness she usually maintained with people, even the ones closest to her. “And Lawrence needs to seriously work out whatever he is doing with his life. And with Angus!“ She had often wondered about his relationship with his best friend. At this point, things could go either way.

“Fair. Not much of a chance of getting knocked up there,“ Gillian chuckled.

“Raff’s done alright though, hasn’t he. Becoming a dad so young and still seeing through his education and getting a good job at the end of it, it’s quite the accomplishment,“ Caroline smiled and delighted in the way Gillian’s face brightened with pride.

“He’s a good boy, our Raff,“ she commented, and Caroline was determined to push the matter over the finish line:

“That’s a credit to you. He couldn’t have done it without your support,“ she added kindly, as she put her cutlery down. Dinner had been a delight, but then by this point, Gillian could have probably fed her anything and she would have thanked her with a dreamy eyed smile. Caroline felt the warmth radiating from her cheeks; a combination of wine, the fire going in the adjoining room, and her own conflicted feelings towards her step sister. For the sake of her own sanity, she refused to refer to her as that whenever possible, particularly in her own head.

“More like in spite of me,“ Gillian huffed, her mood swinging like a pendulum. She had been much more steady in recent years, but that wasn’t to say she was free of the crippling self-doubt that always chose the most inopportune moments to rear its ugly head. “Never would’ve happened wi’ someone else. Not like your boys went and knocked up their girlfriend, is it.“

“Don’t be ridiculous,“ Caroline cut in quickly, but Gillian just downed the rest of her wine and carried on:

“You know it’s true, ‘as bad as his mother’ is what they were saying, and if they weren’t, they were thinking it.“ She gave a bitter laugh that stood in stark contrast to the carefree atmosphere they had enjoyed.

“You have many flaws, Gillian, it’s part of your charm, but being a bad mother? That’s certainly not one of them.“ Caroline was quick and decisive, in intervening. There had been times where she had been quite happy to shoot a snide comment her way herself, but not anymore.

“Hm.“ Gillian’s response was minimal, which indicated to Caroline that she hadn’t listened or taken in what she’d said.

“It’s not!“ She insisted firmly.

“Alright!“ Gillian exclaimed, exasperated.

“Do you think I’d have come here, to live with you, having you help look after my daughter, if I didn’t think you were a good mother and a good person?“ Caroline leaned forward onto her elbows, regarding the farmer with a stern look that she had perfected in many years of teaching.

“’suppose not.“ Gillian folded, just as one of Caroline’s six-formers would have done.

“Well then.“ The headteacher straightened herself up again and proceeded to divide the rest of the bottle in between their two glasses.

“Their faces. When you told them.“ Gillian suddenly burst out laughing and Caroline grinned, recalling the conversation in vivid detail. The pendulum that was Gillian’s emotional well-being, had swung back around.

“Of all the stupid, stupid videos Lawrence has done… that would have been the moment to capture,“ she shook her head to herself, remembering how comical and surreal the whole thing had been.

“It was your Mum more than me Dad, that face she pulled!“ Gillian couldn’t stop laughing; it was infectious and prompted Caroline to launch into a scarily accurate imitation of her mother:

“Caroline, you can’t really be considering moving to a farm, and HER farm of all places. Is that any way for Flora to grow up? What if she…catches something or…“ Caroline could hardly breathe for laughing. “Honestly Mum, what is she gonna catch? Fresh air?“

“Touch of the common farmer, more like,“ Gillian grimaced, but she didn’t seem to care, not really.

“Like she’s never stayed here herself.“ Caroline rolled her eyes at the hypocrisy.

“I think she was more concerned with me, than the farm,“ Gillian pointed out, taking a deep breath to calm herself down - but her face continued cracking up and gave her away.

“Well obviously.“ Caroline just waved it off. They were both used to her mother’s strong opinions, and readily chose to ignore them.

“What will you be doing with Gillian around all the time?“ Gillian tried herself at Celia’s accent which caused Caroline to launch into another laughing fit.

“I don’t know, Mum, maybe we will have a wild sapphic love affair,“ she reprised her witty response with tears of laughter in her eyes.

“You nearly gave her a heart attack an’all,“ Gillian snickered.

“Well, it’s none of her business.“ Caroline took a deep breath, regaining some small measure of self control. “And really, she only has herself to blame. If she hadn’t been on at your Dad about lending you that money, and then telling me they wouldn’t be picking up Flora anymore, none of this would have happened.“

“So really, we should be thanking her, shouldn’t we.“ Gillian grinned after brief contemplation. “To your mother.“ She raised her glass and Caroline toasted her:

“I’ll drink to that.“

The evening wore on, and just as they contemplated opening a third bottle, Raff and Ellie returned with the baby, who was sleeping soundly in his car seat. Thank God for small favours, Caroline thought. They had cleared up from dinner and were lounging on the sofa with the telly on.

“Mum. Caz. Alright?“ Raff greeted them.

“Had a good evening?“ Gillian asked, looking around.

“Yeah great thanks,“ Ellie smiled in response and made her way up the stairs with the little one.

“You watching University Challenge, Mum?“ Raff asked, bemused, as he noticed the program they were watching.

“Through no fault of my own!“ Gillian was quick to point out. She shot Caroline a look who was sitting to the other end of the sofa.

Caroline considered it a safe distance, but not as safe as the other sofa would have been. It was one small thing she allowed herself. It was innocent enough, and Gillian didn’t seem to think twice when their legs intertwined on the two-seater.

The sheep farmer carried on explaining their television agreement to her son: “We compromise, see, she gets to watch something she wants and then I get to watch something I want.“

“Trust her to chose the most obnoxious thing she can possibly find, just to wind me up,“ Caroline interjected but without averting her eyes from the screen. She mumbled the answer to yet another obscure question under her breath.

“Sounds about right,“ Raff chuckled and Gillian leaned over the back of the sofa to slap her son’s arm.

“Remember, it’s a school night,“ she pointed her finger at him.

“Bit rich coming from you.“ He eyed their empty wine glasses. “I feel like the alcohol consume in this house has sky rocketed in the past month.“

“Yeah, well, got to knock ourselves out somehow between the baby crying and you two going at it,“ Gillian quipped, and returned her attention to the television as well.

“You’re just jealous cause you haven’t go a fella right now,“ Raff teased.

“Yeah well, I’m over that for the time being,“ Gillian gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Think you’ve finally gone through all the eligible bachelors in West Yorkshire?“ Caroline saw an opportunity to jump in and tried her best to keep the smallest twang of jealousy from her voice.

“And some of the ineligible ones too,“ Raff added, with a smirk.

“OI!“ Gillian exclaimed, shooting him a glare and kicked Caroline’s leg for siding with him.

“I’d better see if Ellie needs some help…“ Raff was quick to make his escape.

“Yeah, you’d better,“ his mother shouted after him.

“I have to say, you have come a long way since we met. From having three blokes you’re shagging staying over in this place,“ Caroline couldn’t help but comment, recalling the fateful night their parents had gone missing and they had stayed at the farm with Gillian’s three merry men - Paul, John and Robbie - all crammed onto these sofas.

“Bet you wouldn’t have come to stay then, would’ya,“ Gillian hummed, her voice surprisingly neutral.

“Could have joined that exclusive club,“ Caroline smirked, the alcohol loosening her tongue enough to make a joke, one too close to the truth for comfort. She forced herself not to think about what else she could be doing with her tongue right about now.

“Caz!“ Gillian exclaimed, and the headteacher couldn’t quite tell whether she was offended, self-conscious or flattered.

“It really is easy to tease you,“ Caroline back-peddled to safer waters.

“Yeah well, you’re living with Yorkshire’s greatest slapper so jokes on you,“ Gillian huffed. “Watch your f-bloody University Challenge.“

“Hm, yes, what will people think,“ Caroline chuckled and did as she was told.

#last tango in halifax #gillian x caroline #gillian greenwood #caroline mckenzie dawson #domestic fluff #useless lesbians #nicola walker #sarah lancashire #femslash #friends to lovers

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theclockworkmonk · 3 years

Text

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 2

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Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

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

"They can't be serious…." Harry muttered in disbelief as he stared down at the very official-looking letter.

"Who's serious about what?" asked Ginny, stepping into their living room.

Harry jumped and quickly tried to hide the letter behind his back. "Nothing!" he squeaked.

He should have known better. Ginny got a mischievous glint in her eye and darted around him, trying to get at the letter. They spent a minute chasing around each other, but eventually Ginny faked him out into tripping over the coffee table, and she quickly snatched the letter out of his hand with a triumphant laugh, making Harry once again wonder if she wouldn't be even better at Seeker.

"Ooooo," Ginny sang dramatically as she saw the emblem at the top of the parchment, "an official statement from the Wizengamot! Have they come up with a new award to bestow on you?"

"No, it's even worse," mumbled Harry.

"Oh, well now I'm very interested," Ginny teased, "am I worthy to take a peek at such official correspondence between such important people?"

"Well, it actually concerns you too, Missy," said Harry, crossing his arms, "so go ahead."

"Hold on, let's see if I can get the right tone." Ginny cleared her throat, pointed her nose in the air, and continued in her haughtiest tone,

"To the esteemed Harry James Potter,

After consideration of your actions to serve and protect the Wizarding World of Great Britain, as well as the recent discovery of your lineage to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, previously thought to be lost, it is with great honor and pleasure that we offer to restore your line to its former status by bestowing upon you one of the vacant Lordships!?"

Ginny dropped her character and her mouth gaped open in disbelief. "Along with the accompanying seat on the Wizengamot!" she finished quickly.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, and her face split into a wicked grin and Harry knew he would never hear the end of this.

Harry snatched the parchment back.

"Yeah, so in other words," he began before she could start getting her jokes in, "they're embarrassed by how many of their seats are still empty after half their members were thrown in prison or fled the country for being Death Eater collaborators, so they're once again trying to use me as their poster boy so they can look like they've turned over a new leaf. Except they clearly haven't, since they only deemed me 'worthy' after they found out which dead pure-bloods I'm descended from, so they're still the same navel-gazing, inbred aristocrats they've always been!"

By the time he was finished, he was shouting and he panted to catch his breath.

Ginny, however, still found the whole thing hilarious.

"Oh, it breaks my heart to see Lord Potter so displeased," she bowed low to him with a flourish of her hand. "Let me know if there's anything a lowly peasant like me can do to serve you."

"Yeah, yuck it up, Weasley," said Harry dryly, "Like I said, this affects you too."

She looked back up at him with a sardonic look. "How does your having to sit through long parliamentary bullshit have to do with me?"

"Well," said Harry, stepping toward her, "if I'm a Lord, that means that, if I ever get married one day—"

"Hypothetically speaking," said Ginny.

"Yes, then that hypothetical girl — whoever she might be — would become a Lady."

"Hmmm," hummed Ginny thoughtfully. She wrapped her hands around his neck and he snaked his arms around her waist. "So you think this is relevant to me because you're hoping to make me your Lady? That's mighty presumptive of you, Lord Potter."

"Well, I wouldn't say hoping," lied Harry. "It's just a logical possibility to consider, strictly because you're pure-blood, of course. But I'm still keeping my options open. After all, you know how much of a ladies man I am."

"Yes, of course. But you know…" said Ginny thoughtfully, tracing circles over Harry's chest with her finger, "'Lady Ginevra Potter….does have kind of a nice ring to it."

"Oh, but things would be expected of you, m'Lady," said Harry, "and you would definitely have to stop all that Quidditch nonsense. Such a vulgar and violent activity is beneath a woman of your standing."

"Oh, well, I guess that's settled, we have to break up," Ginny sighed, "We're just a part of two different worlds."

"I'll always remember you," said Harry romantically, "but alas, I must kiss you goodbye."

He bent down and gave her a kiss, then they broke apart as they cracked up into laughter.

"Come on, I'm not going to let anyone call me a Lord," said Harry, rolling his eyes, "and obviously I'm not actually going to sit on the bloody Wizengamot. Those seats are transferable, so I can give it to someone who will actually know what they're doing. My first instinct is your dad, but he probably won't want it either, and they'll do anything to get him off again. Andromeda would probably feel at home there, but could do some good. Or maybe McGonagall."

Ginny groaned. "You can be so boring sometimes, you know that? You have a chance to put Luna in a position of power, that would drive them insane! Oh, or how about Aberforth, that would be hilarious!"

Harry laughed. "We're not all agents of chaos like you, Gin. I swear, sometimes I think you're Eris in disguise."

"Oh, you think I'm a goddess?" Ginny flirted, "then I guess you better worship me."

"Hmmm," Harry kissed her again, but then sighed and pulled back. "Sadly, there's no time for that, we're already running late for dinner at the Burrow."

"Alright, should we go together or do you want to keep up the pretense that we're actually living in different flats?" she asked him pointedly.

He gave a weak, embarrassed smile. "I know it's ridiculous, and I might be a coward, I've just managed to escape your mother's disapproving stare so far in my life, I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible."

Ginny rolled her eyes but led him by the hand out the door of their flat, past the wards they had put up. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, and turned on the spot, feeling the squeeze of Disapparition.

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

"Come on!" urged Ron, "I'm hungry!"

"What else is new?" laughed Hermione, as she finished a letter she needed to send and tied it to Pig. After she sent the little owl on his way, she turned around to see her fiance standing by the fireplace, bouncing on his feet like a child on Christmas morning.

"Honestly Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head, "one would think you haven't eaten in a week, and there's no way that your mother even has dinner ready yet."

"Yes, but her pre-dinner scones should be coming out of the oven right now!" said Ron cleverly, "And I might as well have not eaten in a week, don't pretend like I'm the only one who's sick of our sad attempts at cooking."

"Alright, alright!" said Hermione. She joined him by the fireplace, threw some floo powder into the grate, and together they stepped into the green flames.

"THE BURROW!" Ron shouted clearly, and after the spinning sensation and flashes of various fireplaces, they stumbled into the sitting room of Ron's childhood home.

Ron's excited smile faltered when they saw the sitting room completely empty, with no one there to greet them. He recognized the overlapping voices of his family instead coming from the kitchen, and with a rush of horror he feared that his precious scones were already being eaten by an army of Weasleys. He led Hermione by the hand across the room towards the kitchen, and he started to make out individual voices.

"I just don't understand why they haven't told us!" said his mother.

"He probably knows what we're likely to do to him," grumbled Charlie.

"You've been away too long, brother mine," chuckled George, "I guarantee you she's the one keeping it under wraps."

"In any case, we know that pushing the issue will do nothing but make things worse," said Ron's dad gently, "We just have to—"

"Scones ready?" asked Ron loudly as he and Hermione entered the kitchen, and Hermione had to resist the urge to swat him. The conversation he had interrupted seemed interesting, and her suspicions were confirmed (and her curiosity inflamed) when all talk instantly ceased the moment they walked into the room. Six heads snapped towards the arriving couple as Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George widened their eyes in surprise and fear, like they were caught discussing something covert. Hermione also noticed how a few of them (mainly Ron's two oldest brothers) then narrowed their eyes venomously at her and her boyfriend.

While the kitchen of the Burrow was usually one of the warmest, most welcoming rooms in the world to Hermione, she noticed a distinctly cool, tense atmosphere this time. She looked sideways and saw that even Ron had clearly noticed, his eager smile slipping from his face.

There were several seconds of silence as the older family members' eyes all flittered between each other, holding a silent conversation that Ron and Hermione didn't know how to join. Then the loud ding of the kitchen timer made them all jerk suddenly.

"Wow, do I have great timing or what?" said Ron proudly, trying to ease some of the tension in the room, but some of his laughter died in his throat. His stomach didn't let him dwell on it, however, as Molly bent down to take the scones out of the oven, and the sweet, fresh smell filled the kitchen.

After she put the plate of scones on the table, Ron casually flicked a cooling charm over them before grabbing one greedily. The other Weasley men took their own, but they looked more like it was just something to do with their hands. While Ron hummed as he took a big bite, they chewed theirs thoughtfully.

"I should check on the washing," said Molly quietly, without looking at anyone. She grabbed a laundry basket and headed outside towards the clothesline.

"I'll help!" said Hermione cheerfully. She was always happy to help with the chores at the Burrow, but she also wanted to get one of the Weasleys alone to figure out what they had been talking about.

Molly didn't answer and continued outside with Hermione behind her.

"How have you and Arthur been?" asked Hermione pleasantly.

"Well, my days are still dreary, with no children left in the house," Molly sighed. "I knew that children don't stay children forever, but I certainly wasn't expecting my younger ones to hit so many milestones so quickly….and in the wrong order." She finished more quietly

Hermione frowned. Did Molly think she and Ron were getting married too soon? She had never expressed that before, she was overjoyed when they had announced their engagement.

"Er….well, Ron recently got promoted from Junior Auror," said Hermione uncertainly as she began helping Molly take garments off the clothesline and put them in the basket. "He'll be taking more serious cases now." So his career is well on track, if that's what you're worried about.

"I'm touched that you and Ron are willing to indulge that to me!" said Molly sharply

Hermione pursed her lips. Her patience was running out.

She stepped towards her soon-to-be mother-in-law and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Molly…"

For the first time, Molly turned to look at Hermione and the younger woman flinched back at the cold distrust and disapproval she saw in her eyes. Hermione felt a rush of deja vu, and after a short moment she realized where she had seen that look before: it was the same look she had received from Molly her fourth year, when the older witch had believed Rita Skeeter and was under the impression that Hermione was Harry's manipulative girlfriend, breaking his heart by messing around with Viktor.

"Mrs. Weasley...have I done something wrong?" asked Hermione weakly.

Seeing the hurt on Hermione's face, Molly's own harsh expression softened and was replaced with a wave of guilt. Her eyes got watery and her lip trembled, and before Hermione could say anything else she suddenly found herself being hugged tightly.

"No dear, you haven't done anything wrong," said Molly in a choked voice, as Hermione awkwardly patted her back, thoroughly confused. "I'm just being silly. I understand you're not choosing sides, you're just being a good friend."

Molly pulled back, and was smiling weakly at Hermione.

"Er...thank you," said Hermione, more bewildered than ever. "I don't mean to be rude, Molly, but I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh no, of course not," Molly winked dramatically, "There's nothing to tell, I'll drop it. Come on, dinner is just about ready."

Before Hermione could insist more strongly that Molly explain what the hell was going on, Molly picked up the now-full laundry basket and returned to the house, leaving Hermione blinking dumbly behind her.

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

As Hermione followed his mother outside, Ron continued to chew into the warm, buttery scone, barely looking at his surrounding family members, the earlier tension all but forgotten to him.

"So….little Ronnie doesn't come around for dinner as much as he used to," Bill pointed out.

"He and Harry have been burning the candle at both ends at the Ministry," said Percy.

"Hmm-hmm," Ron nodded, engrossed in his scone, not looking up to see the stern looks on his brothers' faces. "More than we need to be, honestly. But because of Harry's saving-people-thing, he's always sure that the next case will end in disaster if the dark wizard isn't caught right now, and of course he would be lost without me, so whenever he's working overtime I am too." He shrugged.

"Oh yes, I think we're all well aware how loyal you are to Harry," Charlie said darkly, "Even over other, older loyalties, as a matter of fact."

"Charlie…." began their dad warningly.

Ron looked back up, and grew uncomfortable again when he saw that all of his family members were looking directly at him. Earlier, he had assumed that the awkward tension in the room was because he and Hermione had interrupted an important conversation, but it seemed to go beyond that, like they were pissed directly at him for something he had done.

"What's going—"

He was interrupted by his mother re-entering the house, holding the laundry with one hand and wiping tears from her eyes with the other. Hermione followed in shortly behind her, and Ron looked pointedly at his mother and gave his fiance a quizzical look, but Hermione just returned a confused, helpless shrug.

"The roast should be almost done now," said Molly happily, and waved her want to send a flurry of plates and cutlery flying to settle in front of where each of the Weasley men were sitting.

"And I'm such a terrible mother, I neglected something," chuckled Molly, and bent down to kiss the crown of Ron's head. "We all missed you, dear."

"Mum…" Ron grumbled awkwardly, but he saw his brothers look at each other with slightly guilty expressions, and as they followed their mother's lead, the atmosphere of the room became friendlier.

Charlie drew in a deep breath and sighed. "I need a drink."

"Excellent idea!" pipped George. He waved his wand and summoned a large bottle of firewhiskey from the cabinet along with several glasses, which zoomed right past Molly's face, causing her to jump and shriek.

"For the last time, only the cook can summon in the kitchen!" Molly scolded him, "I won't have this room devolve in complete chaos of flying objects until someone gets a concussion!"

"And I know you don't always act like it, but you are all of age," said Arthur, raising his eyebrows at George pouring several glasses of whiskey, "so I see no reason why you can't bring your own drinking supplies instead of raiding mine."

Molly huffed. "Well maybe it will be best if we stopped keeping that poison in the house—"

She stopped abruptly as they heard a faint pop from outside, coming from down the pathway, and Ron knew that Harry and Ginny must have arrived. Instead of beaming and rushing out into the garden to greet her two favorite children, however, Ron saw his mother gasp and a bit of the color drain from her face. His family members all looked at each other with that same expression he first saw when he came into the room.

Charlie gave a low growl and picked up a glass. "Yup. Definitely need a drink."

#hinny ficfest #hinny fanfiction #hinny fluff #romione #hinny #hinny fanfic #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #harry and ginny #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #romione fanfic #harry x ginny #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

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mxvladdy · 3 years

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heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”

#obey me #om satan #om belphegor #om diavolo #om barbatos #fun request!

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urijihoons-blog · 4 years

Text

Bokuto: Clarity

/ Kōtarō Bokuto x reader /

genre: angst ish to questionable fluff

wc: 2604

summary: You end up somewhere familiar, but not with someone familiar. One things for sure, the truth will come out soon enough.

warnings: mentions of anxiety

a/n: You guys!!!!!!!! I’m so glad you all love this fic 🥺 your comments and likes and reblogs encourage me so much!! Thank you so much for your love!!!! 💗💗💗

pt3

///

You wake up in a daze. No, you wake up... in a hotel room? The suite looked just like Bokuto’s, is that where you are? You hoped so.

You picked up your head, peered around the room looking for his things to confirm your suspicions, and lifted your upper body to lean on the headboard of the bed. Suddenly, there are footsteps coming from the bathroom area. “Bokuto?” You inquire, anxious to see his face while you could blame it on the alcohol. A laugh comes from the hallway, and it isn’t his. Oh, oh no.

Atsumu comes around the corner, shirtless and basketball shorts, with a cup of water. He laughs when he sees the horror on your face, thinking it’s a joke. You check your clothing frantically, everything is still buttoned, zipped, and tied. You look up at him, still terrified of the blank space of time from the bar until now, “We didn’t... did we?” Atsumu laughs even harder but then notices the look of panic in your eyes. He straightens up, coughing while handing you Tylenol and the cup of water. “No, of course not. You’re Bo’s girl.”

Those words stung. “Not anymore.” Those words, they really stung. You hadn’t actually had the thought of it being completely over until now. It’s hitting you, wave after wave. Everything went wrong, and now you, you’re suffocating-

“Y/N,” Atsumu’s at the edge of the bed, looking you in the eyes with fear, “please breathe. Take a second and breathe.” You try to hold it in, and take deeper breaths but your heart is pounding so hard in your chest, it feels as though it’s going to burst. The next thing you know, you’re on the ground hugging your knees into your chest as tightly as you can. Your eardrums cut out all other sounds, they were just echoing your heartbeat. With your face turned into the carpet, you’re sobbing breathlessly. Atsumu jumps up and grabs his phone, eyes scared to no end. “I’m calling Kuto, now.”

“N-no, please d-don’t.” You say as strongly as you can. You lift your head and force your breaths to become decently even. “Please give me more time.”

“You know,” he looked down at you with a concerned look, “you need to talk to him soon.”

Your eyes furrowed in distress before saying, “Why should I? It’s quite obvious what went on between them, why should I do anything for him?” You wiped some spare tears still leaving your eyes from your panic attack. “I don’t want to see him-“

“Your first thought when you woke up here,” he motioned around the room, “was that you were with him.” Atsumu stated bluntly, he lifted an eyebrow, “You think I didn’t hear the hope in your voice when you called for him?” You blinked, completely stunned at how he read you so easily. “Also, from what I’ve gathered these past couple of weeks, Tamra isn’t very trustworthy when it comes to telling the truth.”

“She didn’t have to tell me anything,” you sighed heavily, hugging your knees again. “I saw it, ‘Tsumu.” You tried to blink away the tears yet again. “And it wasn’t just a ‘She was close to him and he was close to her’ type deal. It was a ‘She was only wearing a towel and he was shirtless in the hotel suite by themselves, ready to get their room service’ type deal.”

Atsumu looked honestly shocked. He started talking with his hands, “Well, that doesn’t make much sense.” He slightly raised his voice, and you realized he was talking more to himself than to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Kuto, is a simple, oblivious man. When Tamra started talking to him after some of our practice games, they only talked volleyball. I honestly just thought they became friends.” Atsumu pulled his hand to his chin in thought. “They never hung out outside of the courts, unless we all went out to the bar down the street, but even then it was always in a big group.”

“So what are you trying to say to me?”

“What I’m trying to say is that Kuto has texted in our team groupchat about looking for you in the city. He’s given us your complete physical description and told us to call him if any of us see you. We’re told to take you to him as soon as possible.” Atsumu tries to hold in a giggle at the whole situation. “He seems like he’s going out of his mind right now.”

Your face froze. “So, why haven’t you taken me to him? Or even told him that I’m here?”

His smile diminished slightly, “Because of how you were talking about him at the bar.” His face became serious. “You were,” he paused, taking a deep breathe, “ are, so hurt, Y/N. And as much as I don’t truly think he did this to you, there is the smallest of possibilities. And if he did, which God forbid if he did, I don’t think he should have the satisfaction of being able to see you at your lowest. I wanted to sober you up, talk to you first, and then figure it out from there.” Atsumu talked with such kindness, your respect for him instantly grew. “So, what do you think you want to do?”

You sat there for a couple of minutes in silence, ‘Tsumu waiting for your response. You finally looked up, certain, “Call him, and tell him to come here.”

“She hasn’t come back to the bar.”

“She hasn’t come by the airport.”

“Her suitcase was left in the hotel, so maybe she’ll come back here?”

No one knew where you were, which Bokuto didn’t expect them to. He just wished for a different way. Wished that he could’ve explained it when he had the chance, wished he wasn’t in such a damning situation in the first place. Bokuto should’ve never trusted Tamra, he should’ve listened to his friends, and now he pays for it.

It was the third day of training camp, and Bokuto was completely focused. His practice matches were getting tougher, ralleys taking longer. After a while, he was becoming tired.

“Hey, Bokuto right?” A small voice perked up.

Bokuto turned to face a short, young woman, petite, with a kind smile. She wore a track suit, but not for his team, must’ve been another team’s manager. “Yes?”

“You’re doing great out there! I’ve heard of you before but I didn’t expect this.” She laughed, clutching her clipboard.

Bokuto laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Thanks!”

He walked back towards his teammates, who were taking a water break, when he heard one of the guys say, “Kuto, I wouldn’t get too close to her, she’s bad news.” Bokuto furrowed his brow in confusion, waiting for the rest of the reason.

“Yeah,” another piped up, “I heard she tried to break up Ushijima and his wife, uh, Kate.”

“Guys, she probably just doesn’t have any friends! She seems nice enough, and you know I would never do anything to hurt, Y/N.” Bokuto’s expression was playful, but his words were dead serious. He truly believed what he said. “Plus, Toshi gets a big head sometimes, I bet that girl said two words to him and he got flustered.” Bokuto laughed, his team looked around for a second and they laughed too, trusting him.

So for the next week and a half, Tamra would speak to Bokuto every once in a while. Always something nice, always something about volleyball. Sometimes about his own experience, other times about how he helps lead the team. Never once did he actually think there was anything going on, because he trusted himself to recognize the signs. He didn’t want anyone other than you, so he didn’t worry about anyone other than you. A couple days later and Tamra has started going to the bar with the whole team. Everyone cutting up, acting like old friends. Everything seemed fine, but then it all went to hell.

Tamra:

‘Kuto, can I come use your shower? The hotel staff says that mine won’t be fixed for a couple of hours and I feel gross.’

Bokuto:

‘Yeah, that’s fine. I’m in room 428.’

Tamra showed up shortly after, and he had just gotten out of the shower. She knocked, and he answered, allowing her to step in. “Thank you so much, I just feel gross.”

“No problem, I understand the feeling.” Bo laughed sheepishly, looking through his drawers for a shirt. He heard her stomach growl, and laughed a booming laugh. “Someone’s hungry?” He looked over at her, and she nodded, giggling. “I haven’t eaten dinner either, I’ll order room service.” She bowed her head slightly in thanks. “What do you want?” He asked, standing to grab the menu from beside the dresser.

“I want.. a burger, and fries, and..” she paused, staring at him trivially. She took a couple of steps forward. She was a breath away from him. “You.” Faster than he could stop her, Tamra kissed Bokuto, hard. Her hands grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into her unwillingly.

He grabbed her arms and wrenched them off of him. “No.” He breathed hard, using the back of his wrist to wipe his mouth. His eyes darkened slightly with anger. “No, do not do that again.”

“But, I thought-“

“No, you thought wrong. I have a fiancé, remember?” He looked at her confused, as if she hadn’t heard him talk about you for the last 2 weeks at all. Her eyes looked desperate. “How-“

“I’m so sorry!” Tamra blurted, holding a hand to her chest. She looked as if she had been wounded as she turned her face away. “I am so so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I guess, I just wasnt thinking. Please forgive me, I don’t want this to be held against me.” As fast as the anger came, it also left. Bokuto felt bad for her, and she looked ashamed of herself enough.

“Okay. Just do not do it again. I am only a friend.” He said, and walked towards the hotel phone. “Once you’re out of the shower, the food will be here, but I would rather you go to your own room to eat.”

“Okay, I can do that.” She said in a small voice.

Bokuto watched her stalk towards the bathroom, and went about ordering room service. What he didn’t see was the sly smile on Tamra’s face, or her calculating moves up until this point. She had made herself look innocent, but in reality, she had a plan. She wanted the scandal, and the chaos that came with it.

‘And she got it.’ Bokuto thought to himself. ‘She definitely got it.’ A sudden buzz took him out of his head, saved him from his thoughts. He lifted the phone to his ear, not even bothering to look at the caller. “Y/N?”

“No, but I do need to talk to you about her. Come to my room, ASAP.” Atsumu said calmly.

Bokuto looked at his phone, not believing that Atsumu really wanted to help. “I’m confused, you weren’t at the bar tonight, what do you know exactly?”

“Come to room 317, this is important.” Atsumu seemed very serious about this.

“I’m on my way.”

///

The hotel room was cold, so you had to cover yourself in the bed’s blankets to keep from shivering. Everything felt too foggy. You were sobering up quick, the thought of having to look him in the face making you shiver on its own. A knock came from the door and you glanced over at Atsumu, the mix of emotions becoming too much. He was already looking at you, waiting for the okay. You steadied yourself, giving him a nod. He moved swiftly to the entryway of the suite, and opened the door. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear his voice. “What do you know?” Bokuto rasped, walking in. He followed Atsumu’s gaze and finally found you, his golden eyes softening.

You froze under his intense stare. His eyes taking the sight of you in. You hadn’t even thought to have taken a look at yourself, you probably looked how you felt, like a train wreck. He took a step toward you, and you made sure to stay still, knowing, with the look on his face, he was hurting too.

“Y/N?” He took another step forward, lifting his hand as if he was holding it out for you.

Atsumu, grabbing his car keys, sighed. “Well, I’ll let you two talk this out.”

Bokuto turned toward him, his face flashing with anger, making him stop in his tracks, “We will have our own talk later.” Atsumu opened the door quickly, leaving in a flash.

“Don’t be too upset at him.” You whispered softly. Bokuto turned his complete attention to you, sitting on his knees by your bedside. “He only did what he did to help me, and you.”

A silence fell between you two as you stared at each other. Bokuto looked disheveled, his hair down, his clothes were wrinkled, and his face. Oh, his face, so sad. And his eyes were not as bright. He looked tired. “Y/N,” he muttered softly, “please let me explain.”

He waited for your permission, but you sat there silently. “Will it make everything better, or worse?” He looked down, his mind, no doubt, moving hundreds of miles a second. You spoke up, and he looked back up at you. “Because tonight, I was broken. I felt as though I was forgotten, that I wasn’t needed in the same way that I need you. I felt as though I had been replaced.” You breathed shakily, tears already forming in your eyes. His expression dropped immediately, tears streaking down his face. “Will what you say make me forget these things? Will what you say to me make me see you clearly?” You looked down at your hands, holding them together, as if they were holding you together. The flesh around your ring turned white, along with your knuckles, because of how tightly you pressed them.

Bokuto’s left hand covered your own, and you noticed a small glint of something shiny. There, on his ring finger, was his wedding ring you had chosen. Your breath hitched as you stared at his hand, at his finger, at the ring. “Y/N,” he started, but you already unclasped your hands and was holding his.

“You,” looking him in the eye, “you put it on.”

“Of course I did.” He smiled sadly, wiping a tear from his cheek. His eyes suddenly shot up and looked at his hand frantically, bringing his hand back. His fingers grazed his ring, “If you don’t want me to wear it anymore I can take it off, I would understand-“

“No!” You said hastily, his eyes getting wide. “No, it’s okay.” Your eyes softened, and you gently grabbed his hand and brought it back down to your lap. “Do you like it?”

He chuckled slightly, putting his other hand on yours. “I absolutely love it.” You smiled at him and he smiled back, but then his eyes glazed over. His face fell, and you knew what was going to happen next. “As much as I don’t want to, we have to talk about this, so we can move on.” He spoke timidly. “So we can be happy again.” You sat there, unmoving. He waited for your permission to continue. You nodded firmly.

Will you have the clarity you want- you need? You hope so.

///

Part 4 will be the last chapter and should be up in a couple of days :))

Update: heres part 4 :)

#bokuto angst #bokuto x fem!reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x y/n #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto #haikyuu angst #haikyuu hcs #haikyū!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #little owl boy #fukurodani

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