#I wish they took trade-ins | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5

More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.

Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.

I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go

Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming

“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear.

“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”

“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid.

“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room.

“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?”

“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.”

Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.”

“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked. “That’s gotta count for something!”

You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him.

“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”

"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."

And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.

“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.”

Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.

"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.

"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.

“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. “In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”

“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.

You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.

"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"

You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.

"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.

"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.

"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."

"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.

"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, me too." You agreed.

"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.

"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."

"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."

You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."

You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.

He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.

"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."

"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.

Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.

You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."

Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.

“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?”

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.

"On?"

"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."

"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"

You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."

"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.

"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.

"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."

"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."

“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions.

“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.”

"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"

He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"

"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."

"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."

You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."

You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.

You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."

"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."

You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?”

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.”

You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression.

Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.”

You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.”

“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours.

You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you.

“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.”

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?”

Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.”

“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.”

Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.

You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure.

“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.”

“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?”

You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.”

Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.”

“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.

“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.”

“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?”

“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.”

“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.”

This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.”

“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.”

He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?”

“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.”

He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes.

“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.”

#hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #hannigram #hannigram x reader #the sommelier #wine #tw trauma #tw victim blaming #tw alcohol

177 notes · View notes

nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Fallout 3 companions react to the Lone Wanderer getting in contact with the Followers of the Apocalypse and asking to join them. (Possibly resulting in the creation of a Capital Wasteland chapter of the Followers?)

With the Enclave in full retreat and the Brotherhood of Steel officially installed at the Jefferson Memorial and Adams Air Force Base, the kid from Vault 101 seemed to be adrift. They wandered from Megaton to Underworld, Canterbury Commons to Rivet City, helping those they met along the way as they always had but growing more and more despondent with each passing day. "It's just me out here," they would mutter to themselves occasionally, after particularly tough run-ins with raiders or wasteland vermin. "What am I supposed to do?"

That question didn't have an easy answer, or so they thought. Then, like a lighthouse cutting through fog, a summons on Galaxy News Radio brought them to Three Dog, who parked the Lone Wanderer in an office chair and jammed a set of headphones over their ears. The kid talked for days, tuned to different frequencies, scribbled notes on every piece of paper within reach, and their missing smile gradually returned. When they finally stood up and gathered their thoughts together, a new dream came from their lips like a sermon: "There's a group on the West Coast that heard about me. They're called the Followers of the Apocalypse, and they help people. They like what I've done so far, and they want me to start a chapter here in the Capital Wasteland. I want to do this."

Butch DeLoria: Butch stared at them, flabbergasted. "You... haven't we... what more do you think you owe to these people?"

The kid he used to bully sighed. "What do I owe to anybody, Butch? This isn't about settling a debt. I think it's pretty clear now that I can make changes around here, big changes, and this is just another opportunity to do that."

"But why?" Butch pulled out a comb and ran it through his hair, visibly anxious. "So you purified the water, ran those Enclave upstarts out of town. Leave it there. Kill anyone who tries to jump you on the road, and stop worrying about everyone else."

"I..." The Lone Wanderer clenched their fist, unclenched it. "I can't. If I can make things better for everyone, I have to."

"Well that's not what Tunnel Snakes are about," Butch replied angrily. He seized his traveling pack, shook out his leather jacket and headed for the radio station's door. "You change your mind, you can find me at the Muddy Rudder."

The door slammed behind him. Three Dog, who'd been eavesdropping from the next room, poked his head in. "Is your friend coming back?"

"Ugh." The Lone Wanderer sank into their chair again. "Give it an hour or two. He'll come around. Probably when he runs into the super mutants in Georgetown."

Charon: Charon nodded. "As you wish."

The Lone Wanderer pressed a hand to their forehead in exasperation. "Okay, I tried to phrase that as openly as I could so I could get your thoughts, but I realize now that I should've just said... Charon, what do you actually think about this idea?"

The ghoul shrugged. "I don't."

"Come on Charon, there has to be something-"

"Fine." Charon rolled his eyes. "It's more of the same. More time on the road, more time building up and securing settlements, more time spent fending off attacks from those who want your stuff. I'd say you're also more likely to die, but you've defied my expectations before."

"And..." the Lone Wander pressed. "Are you okay with that?"

Charon, who was still unused to this kid's attempts to include him in decision-making, glared at them. "I am."

They studied each other silently. The Lone Wanderer broke first. They always did. "I'm not going to order you to do this with me."

"You don't have to," Charon reassured them. Half-facetious, half-sincere. "That's not how this works."

Clover: Clover examined her nails, clearly not that interested. "So what's the angle, lover?"

"Clover..." the Lone Wanderer hesitated. "What if it's not an angle? What if we just... did this?"

Clover stuck her tongue out playfully. "Whatever, honey. You probably have some scam cooked up already. Lure them out here, take their stuff, feed them to a deathclaw... you're such a tease."

"Uh-huh." Her companion crossed their arms. "A real scam. Like that time I used a GECK to purify the DC basin. Or that time I led a giant robot to fight the Enclave and eventually took over their crawler. Or that time I rescued a bunch of slaves from Paradise Falls. Clover, we've been on the road together a while. You know I'm not like that."

"I know, I know..." Clover trailed off and looked away. "S'just that I need a good story to tell when you take me back to Eulogy. Otherwise..."

The Lone Wanderer dropped their headset and took her hand. "You're not going back there. Ever. You hear me? You don't belong to that motherfucker anymore. You don't belong to anyone."

Clover still couldn't meet their gaze, but her eyes filled up with tears. "Mmm-hmm. Sure, lover."

Star Paladin Cross: The Star Paladin smiled. "I've encountered the Followers. They bring a noble cause to the wasteland, even if they stretch themselves too thin."

"Well, the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood is stretched too thin right now." The chapter's newest Knight sank back against the desk they'd been tethered to for the better part of the last 48 hours. "Scribe Bigsley is tearing his hair out about water caravans, the Enclave still has holdouts in the area, and Elder Lyons..."

They trailed off and sighed. "We need help. I don't know if I can be a Follower and a Knight, but I know they're more open to working with me because of Elder Lyons' decision to break with the High Elders. We have the same mission: To help the people of the wasteland."

"Our missions are similar, but there are a few fundamental differences," Cross corrected them. "The Followers emphasize the sharing of knowledge and learning, while the Brotherhood seeks to protect it. That said, your assessment of the Elder's decision for our chapter is apt. Perhaps we have opened ourselves up to common ground, in our desertion of our primary mission."

"Right." The Lone Wanderer nodded. "We're deserters. Let's use it. I'll start making plans and a list of potential recruits. I'll start with Reilly's Rangers and the Temple of the Union and get some leads."

Dogmeat: The mutt that accompanied the Lone Wanderer wherever they went barked, excited by his owner's excitement. The noise drew Three Dog's attention from the other room.

"Kid, I'm trying to run a radio station here," he said, leaning on the door frame with a mug of steaming tea in his hand. "Don't get your little buddy too riled up. Fight the good fight and all that, but do it outside."

"Sorry, Three Dog." The Lone Wanderer dropped to their knee and scratched the mutt's back and neck. "Just thinking out loud."

"You take their deal?" the DJ asked, before taking a sip from the mug.

The kid grinned. "You bet your ass I did."

Fawkes: The super mutant that had shadowed the kid since Vault 87 nodded sagely. "These Followers. Would there be room within their organization for an individual such as myself?"

The Lone Wanderer shrugged. "I didn't ask. The woman on the radio made a point of saying they were okay with ghouls, but she didn't say anything about mutants in general. I've heard that the mutants out west are more like you though, so probably?"

"Then I would like to be the first to sign up for your new chapter," Fawkes replied.

"Okay." The kid from Vault 101 grinned. "Great. Even if they aren't good with mutants, it's my chapter, and I say it's okay. It's not like they're going to be peering over my shoulder."

"And what do you intend to christen your first project?" Fawkes asked.

"Hmmm." The Lone Wanderer scratched their head. "Well, after recruitment and finding a base of operations, I think we should help stabilize the water caravan system. From there we can move on to tackling the slave trade."

Fawkes chuckled. "'From a small seed a mighty trunk may grow.' Then let us begin."

Jericho: The retired raider, who had been taking a nap in one of the office chairs, snapped awake with a snort and grabbed his assault rifle. "Who-whatsit?"

"Chop-chop." The Lone Wanderer tossed him his pack and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "We're going to shake up the Capital Wasteland hierarchy a bit."

"Well, that sounds like something worth getting up for," Jericho replied, somewhat more agreeable. "Where are we going?"

"Seward Square," they answered, throwing their own pack over their shoulder. "I know a crew over there that might be interested in helping."

"Reilly's gang?" Jericho stopped them. "Wait a minute. This isn't more of your usual goody two-shoes shit, is it? I told you, I was done after the business with the Enclave. Can't we just roll into a settlement and take their chems like the good old days?"

"Thought you were awake, Jericho." The Lone Wanderer smacked him on the cheek a couple of times. "You want to sit on top of the Capital Wasteland, you have to make yourself indispensable. Capisce?"

"Oh, fuck you," Jericho grumbled. "Should've kicked you off my steps back in Megaton, kid."

Sergeant RL-3: "Sir, yes sir!" the Mister Gutsy agreed. "Anything for our good old Uncle Sam!"

"Right then, soldier," the Lone Wanderer replied at the same level of enthusiasm. "Pack our gear and have this place spotless, on the double!"

"All recruits will be responsible for their own bunks!" Sergeant RL-3 shot back, before moving to retrieve the traveling packs from where they'd been stashed away.

Three Dog, who was watching from the door, shook his head with a grin. "I need to get me one of those models."

"Well, I know a guy out by Tenpenny Tower that might have a bot with your name on it," the Lone Wanderer offered. "Or at least the parts to build one."

"No time to dilly-dally, sir!" Sergeant RL-3 commented from across the room.

70 notes · View notes

miu15 · 2 years

Note

❝ i can’t say no to you. and it’s just not fair. ❞ for mathilda and leorio... *eye emoji*

Mathilda Charas (OC)/Leorio Paradiknight

Listen, this ship is just so wholesome

Mathilda tugged her backpack on tighter, accidentally catching a strand of her blonde wig by accident. It slipped askew, pull the hair over her eyes. She cursed loudly and felt the sting of tears, flowing against her wishes. Everyone was asleep now, Leorio and Kurapika had passed out on the living room couch while watching a scary movie. Gon and Killua were upstairs tucked into bed, she had personally seen that they were comfortable and cared for. She also made sure the movie was one Kurapika and Leorio had already seen, all it took was some sad eyes of, “I was never allowed to watch,” to convince them to watch it again. She could cry now, no one would see her. But now was the moment to leave. Everyone was safe and everyone was serene. Their multiple run ins with the Zoldycks was one too many, Illumi having hid in plain sight at the exams was surprisingly not the worst, having to fight her way in then back out of the Zoldyck estate was suicidal to say the least. But seeing Killua free and smiling hand in hand with Gon was worth the potential reveal of her true identity. She would need to change her appearance again wherever she went next. A hand gently tapped her shoulder, she gasped in surprise and turned to find Leorio shrinking back in apology. “Mathilda?” He wrapped his arms around himself, unable to figure out what to do with them. “Where are you going-” He watched as Mathilda readjusted her wig.

She had revealed who she really was to Killua after his rescue and encouraged him to keep fighting the control of his family. He motivated her into believing escape was possible, she would never Illumi now. Not when freedom was finally in her grasp. The others didn’t know. “What’s going on?” He asked softer.

The wig wouldn’t sit right and the placement only frustrated her more and more. The worried look in Leorio’s eyes only made her feel more vulnerable and weak. She let the loose wig fall to the floor, she had no more energy to mess with it. Truly she had no energy to have attached it in place in the first place. Bright Azure poofed out and caught Leorio by surprise, and as Mathilda sobbed, the coverup disguising her freckles began to wash away. “What?”

Mathilda sobbed into her hands further smudging the coverup away. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. If he catches me- if he finds that Killua has been with me this entire time-” Leorio took the moment to hold her close, and let her sob into his chest. From the front room, Kurapika stirred. “Let’s step into the study,” he whispered. He helped her move into the study where he closed the door behind them, allowing her to cry as much as she wanted. She explained everything to him, the engagement, the betrayal of her brother by giving her to the Zodyck family in trade for power, being on the run, nearly being discovered by Illumi at the exam. God what if she was discovered. She realized she had been holding onto Leorio tightly in close embrace. They had seated themselves on a couch and he had his arms around her. She push away from him and stood up. “I’m sorry Leorio, I can’t- I can’t let you get hurt because of my actions. He’d kill you, and then he’d kill everyone else but Killua. God, Killua, they would never let him be free if they found him traveling with me.” She sobbed harder, her lungs felt like they never caught enough air she breathed quicker and quicker til she felt her head go dizzy. Somehow she was on the couch again and Leorio was speaking to her with calm words. He did not touch her or get any closer than what was necessary. He knelt in front of her and directed her on what to do. “You’re safe Mathilda, he isn’t here,” his voice was so warm and relaxing. There was no fear in his voice, he did not fear the inevitable painful death Illumi would have planned for him. “You don’t know that, he could be anywhere!” “Killua or Kurapika would have sensed him by now, you’re safe Mathilda. And we’re going to continue to make sure you stay safe. We got Killua back, we did that, all of us. We are a family now. We won’t let you get hurt again. I promise you.” Something about him saying all of this felt right, like he couldn’t be wrong. When Leorio was serious he couldn’t be wrong or lying. The man was the worst liar. “Is there something I could do to help you right now to help you calm down?” Mathilda thought about it, she was so cold and alone as always. He would protect her but he might disappear, nothing stayed forever. “Sit next to me, don’t touch me, just stay.” She held herself and leant over her knees. Leorio did as she asked while clasping his hands over his legs. They sat like that in silence until her breathing slowed back to a regular pace and she sat back up. She continued to tell him what it was like living with Illumi and the Zoldycks, what it meant to be betrothed to an assassin against your will. How they cut her hair and changed her clothes to what they deemed appropriate, how she never had a word on what her future might be like. At one point she had tried to love him, tried to find a speck of how they could change. It only hurt her more. Leorio cleared his throat from something lodged in the back of his throat. Fear? Sorrow? He felt so sorry that his friend had to live in the conditions she did at such a young age, and there was no easy healing from the scars she received on her psyche. Without warning, Mathilda placed her head on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything or move, he let her relax and float back into a tired calm. As much as he wanted to promise protection and a never altering world,he couldn’t. They were all hunters now, save for Killua, but they all had their growing to do. He had to go back to his studies, he was still studying for his medical exams. It was a boring life away from his friends, unfortunately he had promises to his past friend- wait. “Mathilda?” He called to her softly, her closed lids fluttering open just slightly. “Come back home with me,” he said mostly to the wall in front of him. He was too scared to face the rejection in her eyes before she had the chance to speak it. “What do you mean?” Her speech slurred from exhaustion. “Nothing adventurous or exciting happens with medical students, come with me and stay by my side while I study. I-I-I

mean d-do what you want-” he was losing confidence in his suggestion and already felt the overwhelming amount of selfishness he was asking of this poor girl. Mathilda sat up and stared at Leorio, Leorio forced himself to make eye contact with her. Her large bushy eyebrows, now that he look closer were bleached to blonde, furrowed in conflict. She continued to stare at him intensly, in her head she was confronting every argument of why that was the stupidest idea in the world, but part of her knew that rationally he was right. Leorio was always right. The part of her that argued to go with him also felt the need to cling onto this last bit of trust she had for the world. Did she trust Leorio? She sighed in frustration, “I can’t say no to you… and it’s just…” Her eyes softened as she continued to work out the shades of brown in his eyes, natural and earthly. They were the most common eyes of the human world. Something in her chest, near where her heart must be, hurt. “Its not fair.” She whispered. He chuckled, “you can say no, you don’t have to come with me. Please don’t feel like you don’ have a choice.” Mathilda chewed her lip, Leorio felt his breath catch in his throat, “no… you’re right. Med students are boring.” Aim, focus, shot fired right on target. But he couldn’t feel any pain, “I’ll probably be safest with you.” “Is that a yes?” He said with more excitement than he meant to reveal. She smiled, “yeah, it’s a yes. But we have to leave tomorrow, Leorio. Any longer and I can’t guarantee we’d be safe.” He nodded his and beamed his stupidly contagious smile, “tomorrow.” Her red eyes had changed to iridescent over the length of their conversation and he had just realized it now as they softened again, he could swear she was definitely a goddess and he should be humbled to be in her presence. “-old you?” “What?” he was so lost in the beauty of her eyes that he didn’t catch what she was saying. Her eyebrows furrowed a little again, “c-can I hug you?” “S-s-s-sure!” She didn’t really wait for him to finish his stuttering before she threw herself into an embrace with him. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shoulder. He was safe.

#hunterxhunter #hxh #leorio #leorio paladiknight #mathilda charas #my oc #my fanfic #Mathilda #angst #Listen I know that I throw Mathilda into every single media I'm currently obsessed with...#yeah thats it #I'm not sorry #I like my oc and I like seeing her and my other oc's dynamics in other stories #LETMATHILDABEHAPPY2022 #leorio/oc #leorioxoc

6 notes · View notes

arhvste · 4 years

Text

next stop iwa-chan!

“i traded a thousands nights, for just one with you, i been catching feelings over you and i hope you catch them too, i been going crazy over you and i hope you’re crazy too”

CHAPTER CONTINUES UNDER THE CUT

the boy was good in the kitchen to y/n’s surprise as he helped expertly cut vegetables and help cook them off while y/n boiled the noodles and fried the meat.

even though it was something that should've been a normal thing to do, both y/n and iwaizumi couldn't help but feel butterflies inside at the thought of doing something domestic together in the comfort of one of their own homes. the idea of what it would be like to be married even entered iwaizumi’s head for a brief 5 minutes before he shook it off and reminded himself that they were taking things slow.

y/n on the other hand knew that iwaizumi had wanted to take things slow because of a previous bad relationship. she didn't know the ins and outs of what had happened and she didn't want to pressure him to tell her, but she too was beginning to struggle with suppressing her feelings. she would tell herself it was nothing more than a crush but she knew she’d be lying. she genuinely liked the boy and she was in deep, not that she’d ever admit it out loud though.

40 minutes later and the cooking was done as the two admired their work.

y/n laughed as she brought the crockery over to the dining table.

“this was a team effort, if it tastes bad that's all on you.”

they sat down and said their thanks before beginning to eat.

iwaizumi was warm on the inside. eating something they had made together only made his heart pick up the pace a little.

he stopped to glance at the girl in front of him who looked as if she was enjoying her meal.

he’d called her pretty before just as a general compliment as form of teasing but she really was beautiful. the fact that he began to like her even before he had a clue of what she looked like fuelled his fondness of her.

it wasn't even just her appearance that had him hooked, y/n wasn't like any other girl he’d met before. he was an attractive guy, he knew this, he had girls approach him in the past but none of them really took his interest and iwaizumi found himself having to consciously speak politely to them. it wasn't like that with y/n though. she could take his banter and give it back just as quick, she wasn't judgemental and didn't push him to talk to her about things he didn't want to.

“i know you said you wanted something pretty to look at but now you’re just straight up staring.”

iwaizumi snapped out of his gaze and locked eyes with a smirking y/n.

“can’t help it when you look the way you do.”

y/n let out an airy laugh as she began to clear up the table and leave everything in the kitchen as they finished, iwaizumi following behind carrying other pieces to bring back to the kitchen.

“we can just chat on the couch or something, i don't know what’s on tv right now, netflix won't work cause the wi fi’s down.”

“so no netflix and chill then?”

y/n turned to the boy and gave him a serious look.

“best behaviour remember?”

“yes ma’am.”

the two sat on the spacious couch and relaxed into the soft furniture.

a casual conversation picked up between the two and they found themselves laughing and chatting carelessly as the hours drained away. time would fly past whenever the pair were together, both of them secretly wishing the hours were longer.

it was now 11:48pm and the atmosphere was nowhere near empty between the two. without even realising, they’d inched closer and closer as they spoke until y/n found her knees touching iwaizumi’s. she smiled as she noticed. she naturally gravitated towards his personality and now it seemed she naturally gravitated towards him physically too.

“what are you smiling about?”

“you.”

“me?”

“yeah you. you make me smile.”

iwaizumi blushed slightly at the girl’s blunt words.

even though they hadn't even known each other for even a month, iwaizumi felt like he knew the girl, like he’d been with her for years, she was so easy to be around and let his guard drop a little.

“hey thanks.”

y/n raised an eyebrow and looked up.

“for what?”

iwaizumi sighed quietly and took y/n’s hands into his own.

“for being patient. i know i said i wanted to take things slow but you really do make me happy. my last relationship was... difficult. it didn't end well and it was toxic from the start i should've seen it coming. you make me want to give relationships a second chance.”

the girl gently squeezed iwaizumi’s hands as he looked into her pretty eyes.

“again, i won't ask you what happened, i’ll let you tell me in your own time, but for what its worth, i will never make things difficult for you.”

to this, iwaizumi laughed.

“it’s a little late for that y/n.”

“how?”

the boy looked away before edging towards y/n a little closer.

“because, all these emotions you make me feel, they’re almost foreign to me, it’s difficult for me to understand them.”

so that was it.

“if i’m the one making it difficult, then let me help make things easier.”

y/n pulled herself into iwaizumi’s lap and cupped his face while staring into his wide eyes softly. she ghosted her fingers over his cheek bones and hummed in satisfaction at his defined features. Iwaizumi’s hands hand snaked around her waist securing her in her position.

y/n sighed lightly before leaning in and grazing her lips over iwaizumi’s tickling his slightly. sick of holding back iwaizumi couldn't take the anticipation any longer. swiftly removing one arm from around her waist, he cupped one hand on y/n’s cheek and pulled her down on to him pressing a firm and desperate kiss to her. she gasped in surprise and iwaizumi took this opportunity to deepen the kiss with nothing but a need for y/n to feel the emotions he had been holding back from her.

y/n moved her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss turned lazy but still full of emotion. a soft, pure love was translated through the kiss as y/n began to pull away to catch her breath only to press soft and delicate butterfly kisses to the boys face.

“did that make things any easier?”

“i was trying to be on my best behaviour and you ruined it.”

y/n hummed as she pressed one last kiss to him before resting her head into his chest.

“you’re glad i did really.”

iwaizumi wrapped his arms around y/n pulling her closer into him.

“that did make things a little easier though.”

y/n looked up and smiled.

“good. sometimes i’m not sure if i’m always getting what i’m feeling across to you properly, that seemed like a good way to do it.”

“if that’s your way of telling me your emotions i may have to act even more insensitive.”

the girl laughed and playfully slapped the boy’s arm before cuddling back into his broad chest.

“minus 2 y/n points.”

“i like you. and not even just a little bit anymore.”

yeah, the two wanted to take things slow but maybe bokuto and the other’s were right. if it was meant to be then things just couldn't be forced to slow down. y/n and iwaizumi had crossed paths in such a spontaneous way, neither could even think to prepare for what emotions would flood when they had started to get involved with one another.

“i won't ask you to be my girlfriend, not just yet, there's still things i want to learn about you, for you to learn about me, but believe when i say i want to be serious about you, i want to try with you, i want you. just give me a bit more time but i promise some day soon, you’ll be my girl but i want to be the best i can for you and right now i’m still figuring things out. i want you when i’m happy with myself.”

y/n couldn't help but let the glowing smile on her face break out.

“a little selfish aren't we?”

“yeah i am, only for you though.”

y/n loosely wrapped her arms around iwaizumi’s neck before looking into his sincere and genuine eyes.

“well, when you’re happy with yourself and have things figured out, i’m yours for the taking, until then, let’s figure this all out together at our own pace. it’s clear neither of us want to force things to go at a slow pace but naturally i agree it’s best we learn a little more about each other before making anything official. i like you and i know you like me, we have all the time in the world to stick a label with commitments on us so i don't mind taking things as they come.”

iwaizumi let out a sigh of relief as he pulled y/n into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“you know, maybe i am glad shittykawa decided to bother you at the train station that day.”

“yeah? i’m glad too.”

enough had been said between the pair. they weren't ready for an actual relationship just yet, but iwaizumi felt excited about the idea of eventually getting to call y/n his officially. all he had to do was get rid of his insecurities and doubts from his last relationship so he could be the best version of himself for the girl who makes him want to do that. he had spent hours wondering if y/n felt the same unexplainable emotions as he did and tonight he knew he could rest easy knowing that she was in just as deep as him.

he was catching feelings over her and he’d hoped she’d caught them too.

whatever stars had heard his wishes, he said a silent thanks as the two drifted off to sleep there on y/n’s couch limbs tangled together.

this was only the start, but both of them slept with a few butterflies in their stomachs as they dreamt about what was yet to come, pulled in close together as they slept under the clear twinkling stars above the skylight in y/n’s apartment.

next stop iwa-chan!

iwaizumi haijime x reader

masterlist

an - both y/n and iwa are in deep

akaashi’s playgroup || two pretty setters and co

part 17 - admit it

part 18 - i hope u catch them too

part 19 - whatever we are

PLEASE SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST

taglist : @crushingonsuga @bloody-bella @totorosleaff @kageyamasbabygorl @cuddlyroger @hidden-otaku-stuff @vanilla-beanzz @macchiatoast @kac-chowsballs @anime-read-write-repeat @missalienqueen @bbkiyoomi @toaster-stick @nerdynstoned @otaku-fangirlse @the-third-wall @nekomateammanager @bokutoichigo @killlerqween @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @doggonudez @iwaizluv @angrylittlezizi @softmultistan @lifesciencesbois @itsmattsunshinehere @haikyus1mp @bringmelily @valrubiii @saturnfarie @oyaoyaoya-chan @ack-aashi @weebymaria @introvertatitsfinest @rd-crew @strawberryyymiaa @a-fucking-simp @chokomoko @iwachanswh0re @maybesoph @leviathans-watching @loser-keiji

#iwaizumi haijime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #next stop iwa chan

367 notes · View notes

heavenunderthemoon · 4 years

Text

Pinky Promise {Jennifer Jareau x daughter! reader}

Summary: JJ, coming from a small town with hardly any sexual education that wasn't abstinence- centric, found herself pregnant. You, her daughter, await her return from another case leading to an interesting conversation between the Jareau girls when she arrives home.

Warnings: teenage pregnancy, extreme fluff

Author’s note: I have a lot of content ideas for this concept so should I just post a lot of blurbs? Idk let me know what y'all think. Also, I didn't put an age for the reader in here because I don't want to exclude anyone so if you are looking for one you won’t find it, anyways enjoy lovelies<3

Rainbow sock clad feet pattered against the house's carpeted floors, the small two bedroom home quiet in the early morning hours.

Typically, you didn't wake this early. You had far outgrown the age in which your internal clock matched that of the rising sun. Your mother attributed your abnormal sleep schedule to the amount of coffee you drank, though you simply pointed the finger right back at her. You learned your caffeine addiction from the best, after all.

No, you didn't normall wake up this early but this morning you had because today was Tuesday. Tuesday's typically help very little importance. You had school, of course, soccer practice afterward and then homework until it was time for bed (very riveting). But this Tuesday was different because it had been precisely five days that your mother had been gone and she had called last night to tell you that she would be home by the time you woke up.

Your first response had been that you would stay up, waiting for her until she arrived. Sometimes you could get away with that. If the jet landed around nine she didn't mind you pushing back your sleep schedule just for her. But, she was still your mother and she still had her limitations. It'll be too late, your mother had whispered into the line, afraid of waking her coworkers. You had protested, but the sleepy yawns had made you sigh defeatedly, telling her to be safe before giving in to your fatigue.

But, none of that mattered now, because as your hand pushed open the door to your mother's bedroom, you recognized the lump underneath the blankets strewn across the bed. You had taken up knitting over the past year- when your mother was gone Garcia was typically tasked with checking in or even staying the night at times and she had taught you the skill. A tuft of blonde hair peeked out from one side of the bed and you grinned tiredly, not hesitating to climb onto the queen sized mattress.

You remembered those days not too many years ago. The days before your mother had gotten her job at the BAU, still struggling as a single mother in school, supporting her child all by herself. The days that had you two sharing beds in a teeny-tiny apartment. You hadn't minded all too much and, though you probably wouldn't admit it aloud, you missed it sometimes, falling asleep in her arms.

As you clambered into the sheets your mother's eyes fluttered open, a lazy smile coming onto her features. She looked as she always did after coming home from cases- tired, drained, but happy to see you. She turned her body to face you, a deep breath being exhaled as she pulled you into her side, a soft kiss being placed onto your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling, humming in response.

"Hi, baby." Her words were jumbled, exhaustion seeping through her tone but she smiled all the same, keeping her forehead connected with yours while she caressed your cheek.

She recalled all those years ago, discovering she was pregnant in that small town of hers. The scandal of her teen pregnancy had been the talk of the town up until the moment she left, and then hardships bigger than gossip had come. Having you, alone with no support system, clutching the hand of the kind nurse at the hospital. The small apartments, intense couponing, food stamps, and learning to sew baby clothes to save costs. So many years of struggling and she wouldn't trade a second of it because it had given her you.

Her daughter. A sweet, and funny, and kind girl who was more like her best friend than her kid. The kind of girl she called at least twice a day when on a case, wanting to hear every single detail about her daughter's day and answered when you asked about hers.

"I missed you." You whispered back, voice raspy from sleep. "How was the case?" You asked even if you knew you wouldn't get all the details.

"Hard, but it's over." The blonde responded truthfully, relief taking over her features and her eyes suddenly lit up, as if just remembering something. "How did your essay go? Total hit? Book deals completely flooding our mailbox?" She teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head at her goofiness.

"A-plus." You boated before wiggling your eyebrows. "No book deals yet, but I'll keep my ear to the ground." You quipped back and she laughed, heaving a small sigh afterward.

Staring at you, only a small amount of light from her sun-shaped nightlight (she had a weird obsession with the sun that you liked to tease her for, buying her sun shaped everything - even a spoon that she always used to eat cereal with). It provided just enough light to see your eyes staring back at her, the eyes that she had created with that old boyfriend of hers in high school, the teenage boy skipping town as soon as she had told him the news. She recalled seeing those eyes when you were born, solidifying the love she had felt growing as each day had passed with you in her belly. The eyes that, as soon as they had opened, your mouth opening to let out that beautiful, ear splitting, heart wrenching wail that signified your entrance into the world, had made her fall in love so deeply she felt she was being crushed under the weight of it all.

Guilt ate at her, as it always did. Guilt for not being the perfect, PTA-mom. The mom who made home-made muffins for bake sales or drove you to school everyday. She wasn't negligent, not in the slightest. She knew that. But part of her always feared that you might resent her for the certain spots that she could never quite fill.

"Do you hate me? For not being here all the time?" Jennifer voiced her concerns quietly, and the mere tone of her words made you pause because she seldom took that tone with you. A tone that showed just how afraid she was of her daughter's resentment, a resentment that could easily be caused by how little she was home.

The question alone made you furrow your brows, not hesitating to answer. "What? No!" And you were sitting up because how could you possibly hate her? How could you hate your mother? Your mother who had kept you safe, done everything in her power to make sure you remained that way. The mother who, yes, missed a couple things over the years but always made sure she was there on your birthday and holidays and the really, really important things. You recalled her tradition every year, swinging open your door at the exact moment you were born, regardless of the early hour, and singing you awake. A tiny cupcake in her hand (store-bought because, as discussed, she was an awful cook), a flickering sparkle candle (was a candle really a candle without sparkles?). That look that she gave you under the dimness of that flame, the look that said that she would do anything, go anywhere, be anyone for you. The look that made you know you were safe, and that even if she told you to make a wish you wouldn't even need to make one because you had everything you could ask for.

Jennifer sat up, her hand going to her distressed daughter's back, watching the pure horror on her face.

"I don't hate you, why would I hate you-" You were distraught, voice an octave higher and she shushed you softly, apologizing at once.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry-"

You turned back to her, tilting your head. "Why would you even think that?"

Your eyes scanned her face for any clues while you awaited your answer. She might have been the profiler but you knew your mother. You knew that she absolutely could not go anywhere with mismatched socks. Or that she hated avocado (the texture freaked her out). You knew that, after growing up on a farm, she knew the ins and outs of farm life (she liked to call you a city girl when teasing you and you called her chicken Joe just to get even). You knew that after years of scrimping on luxurious things she still wouldn't allow herself to buy nice things for herself, only for you. And you knew that, being that she was a media liaison, communicating was one of her best traits. So, you listened carefully.

She sighed, scooting to put her back against the headboard, reaching out to pull on the string that would turn on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room, before motioning for you to join her. Her arm stayed out, allowing you to snuggle in, your head falling onto her shoulder before she answered.

"I'm your mom. I'm supposed to be here." she said, eyes trained on the blanket you had made for her last month. You were getting better, this one hadn't yet fallen apart, but it was still a subpar attempt, despite what Garcia had told you.

"You are here." You tried, but the blonde was shaking her head. She had changed from her work clothes, the aforementioned outfit lying abandoned on the floor, the only spot in a very clean room. Her hair that she almost always had down was thrown into a bun and a few pieces lay forgotten in the front, tickling your cheek when she shook her head.

"No, I'm not. I'm on a jet every week, thousands of miles away from my daughter, thinking about what she's doing and who she's with and I feel like I'm missing everything important. And I don't want you to hate me-"

"I could never hate you." You cut her off, and you moved once more, making sure she was looking into your eyes because as much as you knew her, you also knew that she would never really believe you, not about this, and the eye contact would help in the slightest. "You go away every week because those people need you. You go help the people who need you, just like you help me when I need you." She went to protest, but you continued. "And just because you aren't here, doesn't mean you're not here. You're like Patrick Swayze in Ghost, okay? It's like I can still feel your presence-"

Your teasing made her let out a sad chuckle, sighing softly. You smiled at the sound, grabbing her hand.

"I mean it, kid. We're in this for the long haul." You narrowed your eyes playfully, bringing up a pinky.

She smiled and, for just a moment, she could look at you and see the baby she had raised. The small, premature baby that had clutched onto her finger, as if telling her they would make it through the night. The toddler who had turned up her nose at peas, exclusively eating pureed carrots for three months straight. The five year old who had begged her to learn how to ride a bike and then immediately pleaded for her to not let go of the back. 'If you let go, I'll die, I'm sure of it.' You informed seriously. The eight year old reading books twice the normal reading level, or the ten year old adorned in a scarecrow costume, passed out on the couch from eating too much candy. The thirteen year old who had suddenly hit a growth spurt, all your jeans high-watered that she would replace because you would never outright ask for new jeans. And now the you in front of her. The cool, thoughtful, amazing kid that she would never quite understand how she had deserved you.

Bringing her pinky up to yours, interlocking it. "Okay. But, you know that if you ever do resent me- and I'm talking, Mother dearest level kind of resentment you have to tell me so that I can at least play my part."

You smiled, scooting back to your place in her arms. "That takes the fun away."

It was silent for another moment, only the crickets chirping in the backyard heard, before she was speaking once more. "You know, I'm supposed to be the one reassuring you. My old age is making me emotional."

You let your body slump against hers. "We can take turns. If I let you bear that weight alone you might break a hip."

She scoffed, nudging your body. 'Ha-ha, very funny. how about I take Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and you take Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

Your eyes fluttered shut, despite knowing that even with it being far too early for you both to be up there was no way you were going back to sleep. "What about Saturdays and Sundays?"

Jennifer closed her eyes as well, trying to engrain the feeling of your body in her arms while she still had the chance. Before you found cuddling with your mom weird, or before she had to go away on another case and fall asleep alone and in a hotel bed.

"We'll flip a coin for it."

"Fair enough."

#jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds #spencer reid x reader #Jennifer Jareau x daughter! reader

263 notes · View notes

clown-of-rivia · 4 years

Text

Geralt has come across many monsters in his long life. But the worst of them - was men.

Like this man.

A mother approached him in tears, giving him all her jewelry and begging him to find her daughter. When she presented as an omega her husband just saw gold sold her to an omega trader. The trader buys and sells omegas as they have become such a rare group.

Geralt turned down her payment. He would do this for free. Happily.

He followed leads of this disgusting monster till he found their camp just outside Oxenfurt. The camp was heavily guarded by armed dwarves. It would take too long to fight his way in, by which time the alarm would be raised and the girls smuggled out or worse. He would need fight from the inside out.

He grit his teeth and sheathed his swords, approaching the camp.

"Master Witcher," one guard said, nervous. "Afraid this here isn't a place for walk-ins."

"I'm here to-" Geralt hated this "peruse your boss's goods. Heard about his trade."

The guards turned to each other and frowned, oddly gripping their weapons tighter.

"Very well..." the one at the entrance said. "Follow me."

He didn't know what he had expected. Maybe lavish tents that looked like a brothel? But there was no strong scent of sex or alcohol or fear. Instead there were a line of smaller tents, all closed, with soft calm voices inside.

He was lead to the one in the middle. "Boss? Got a Witcher here to see you. To 'see the goods'." The guard announced as they stepped inside, his tone oddly angry.

A man stood from a desk. Again Geralt didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. A young man, mid 20s maybe, with kind blue eyes that turned hard when he heard the guard.

Geralt knew he had a strong alpha scent. It was intimidating, and almost all of the omegas he had met was cowed by it. Betas were weary of him, and other alphas often saw his presence as a challenge.

He stepped forward and Geralt nearly stepped back as he fully realised who- or rather what - this man was as his heightened Witcher senses took him in.

An omega. Male omega. Incredibly rare and rumoured to be worth a small fortune amongst nobility. Not mated - but not pure. There on his neck - where a mating mark should be is a clear rectangular scar. The mark had been purposefully burned out. Geralt know very few people would be able to withstand such pain.

"You- you're an omega." He said dumbly.

The man paused, then glared, clearly not a wit scared of the alpha Witcher. "And? That a problem?" He cut him off before he could answer. "Not that it matters. I'm afraid I cant let you leave alive. You see - my reputation is carefully designed and needs to stay that way." He draws a wicked dagger from his side and Geralt heards all the guards have surrounded the tent.

"You... you don't really trade omegas do you?" At the man's stormy expression Geralt had his answer. In a quick movement he pulled both his swords and dropped them. "Then I mean you no harm. I came here to hunt a monster. Seems there is none."

It took a few moments of careful assessment before the man put away his own weapon. "You are half right. I inherited a large fortune which I use to buy omegas from those who would sell them to anyone. I bring them here, to Oxenfurt, where they will be safe and taught to defend themselves. I have a mage who can give them herbs to hide their identity, or even change it if they so wish. Most importantly - I give them the choice."

Geralt studied him again. Young but tired, omega but strong, unmated but impure.

"Because you had no choice." He said. Not a question.

The man's eyes flashed. "Astute. Seems the rumours of Witcher intuition and senses are true." He kicked his swords back towards him.

Mind made up Geralt picked up his swords again.

"Call me Geralt." He held out his hand.

"...Jaskier." They shook.

"Well then Jaskier. Any way a Witcher can help you?"

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #netflix the witcher #julian alfred pankratz #abo #omegaverse #omega!jaskier #my writing

342 notes · View notes

abbatoirablaze · 2 years

Text

Jakten, Chapter 6

Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: mentions of death/murder, soul trades, manipulation, mentions of nudity, sexual tension.

“Dark elf,” she whispered through the empty air. Bucky’s eyes fluttered open, and he saw her eyes peering just above the water, her hands gripping the edge of the grass on either side of her face. And Bucky knew that beyond the beautiful exterior lay something far darker, far move evil than his own damned soul. His jaw clenched at a word that he hadn’t heard himself being called in centuries, “dark elf, if you fall asleep you may not wake. Is that a risk that you are willing to take?”

“You haven’t drained me, Aexie,” Bucky said calmly as he rested against the tree. He licked his lips, thinking of how she taunted him. He growled at her, as he knew from her kiss that she would have drained him of his blood and lust at once if she wanted to, “if you’re not willing to share your blood as I have mine then leave me be so that I may gather my strength. I do not need your taunting sea maiden.”

“Don’t pretend that your blood was a gift that you gave so willingly to me, Bucky,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at the vampire. Bucky smirked and she lifted her head even more above the water to glare at him, shocked at his audacity even though she nearly managed to kill him, “you knew it was either my blood or yours…but you were stupid enough to be lured into my trap…just as you were there’s.”

His entire demeanor changed, and she felt a cold chill in the air. She shrank down as she looked back at Bucky, using the water as her safety net.

“Hold your tongue, wench.”

“Does it hurt your poor little undead heart that even though they changed you, the only thing that’s really passed has been everything you knew? That you were forgotten like a relic, left in the forest with the rest of them? I can see how the souls of the damned never accepted you. The royal family ungrateful to your gifts,” she asked tauntingly. Bucky clenched his jaw, still not feeling up to his full strength. He sat listening to her taunts, “or is it that you just miss the days when Steve and Natasha would use you? Passing you back and forth like their own personal little toy? Is that it, Bucky? You miss being used by the humans? Miss the connection you get from them? How Steve would moan your name when he came even when he was with her, saying he wished it was you ins-”

“I said hold your tongue,” he growled to the siren, the baritone of his voice warbling as it broke, “Or when I do recover it shall be your blood instead of mine. And I won’t make the mistake of letting you live long.”

She glared at him from the water’s edge but said nothing. Instead, she watched him, as though she were searching through more of his memories.

“Fine.”

“How much of my life did you truly see wench?”

She smiled, “why would you care to know? Is there something you didn’t want me to find?”

“Well, you seem to know of the nature of my relationships…” he said thoughtfully, fighting off the pain in his neck. Aexie pulled herself up enough so that she was staring at the vampire over folded arms, “what else did you see?”

“You tried to sell your soul to bring them back as vampires,” she offered the sliver of information. Bucky’s eyes opened to stare at her and she frowned, “the protector of humans…”

“Jefferson,” Bucky nodded, “yes…he’s what you see…death hides in the shadows at all times, sweet siren.”

“But…he became stuck on earth when he tried to accept the deal,” she pointed out, her own brow raising as she realized that the reason one of the protectors was in their realm was at Bucky’s fault, “That’s why he’s still here…because the witches took your soul to break the spell…and they killed Natasha and the boys with it…but the human maiden is from the daughter Natasha hid under the floorboards.”

“She was the quietest newborn you would have ever met. An undeniably sweet child,” Bucky sighed, thinking of the little girl that Natasha had bore just two days before the attack, “no one knew she was born yet…no one but me, her, and Steve.”

“And the golem…he’s supposed to protect her family line.”

Bucky shook his head, “He wasn’t created yet. That happened later down the road in her lineage, a son that was mad.”

“But he knows of her?”

He chuckled, clearly amused at how she pieced together the situation, “and as it turns out, Nick is clearly taken by the little vampire for her loyalty and the act of bravery that she displayed by sacrificing herself for the line…he stopped by with her before I came to you. And Lance plans on keeping the human…”

“W-what about the others?”

“Do you mean the shifter? Surprising one that is,” he admitted, “It’s rare that any of the maidens teamed up. Last time that happened they disbanded when the human got attacked. Started trying to barter the others for their own lives…”

“What about the shifter?” she asked, her interest peaking, “Is she okay?”

“The phoenix…” Bucky smirked, pushing himself away from the tree. He leaned forward on his stomach looking at the curious siren at her own eye level, “Lee really lucked out this Jakten…”

“Ouli?”

“Jefferson has a soft spot for soft, innocent little things…she smells like a pixie.”

“S-she is.”

“The only one who has no purpose here, dear siren is you,” Bucky shrugged, his strength coming back to him as he slid forward towards her on his stomach and rested his chin on his forearms, “what a shame that it was that your name that was drawn, little siren…The first Jakten where only one of you is to die, while the other four go to live in castles for the rest of their lives…it’s a such a shame, really.”

“From where I swim, I’ve nearly killed you once,” she said simply, narrowing her eyes at the vampire, “think I’ll make that mistake again?”

“Oh, sweet, sweet western tides maiden,” Bucky chuckled, “we drew before we truly met you. If I were to say that I was bored, or that you didn’t hold my interest, I’m sure that the others would have no problem finding you and doing the work for me. And while I prefer fresh siren blood, I’ve no qualms with salvaging it down the road.”

“And if I didn’t want you to kill me or pass me along to the others?” she asked suddenly realizing that while she’d been taunting him, she didn’t really hold any of the cards, “what would you want in return?”

“I’ll admit, the company is nice,” he shrugged extending an offer, “if I were to spare you, I suppose I would ask the same as the rest of the immortals and their guests.”

“And what’s that?”

“Stay with me in my castle,” he offered simply, “if you come willingly with me to my castle, I won’t kill you…I’ll let you live. But you have to promise me that you aren’t going to run away. You’ll have to stay with me.”

“Did the others make the same trades?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he shrugged, “I’ve been with you the whole time.”

“Take me to them, Bucky.”

“Do you accept my terms?”

She nodded, and he smiled, “As you wish, maiden.”

“I still don’t trust you.” Nick bit his lip, nodding his head. He hadn’t expected her to trust him. But the way that she clung to him, made him feel as though she wasn’t being entirely truthful. She was nuzzled against his chest, her fingers tracing the scars on his body, “How did you get so many?”

“I’ve lived a long life,” he said in a clipped tone. Seeing her shrink back, he sighed. He’d felt bad that he was being short with her, especially after knowing her history with Ransom and how she was treated in her homeland, “we should probably get you cleaned up…you’re dirty.”

“Well in my defense I was just running in the woods for my life before I got picked up by a golem,” she shrugged in response. Nick licked his lips and gave her a bashful smile which she shyly gave back, “he kind of threw me in a cell, and then his bed without ever offering one.”

“Sorry about that, sweet maiden.”

“It’s okay, he’s kind of dirty too,” she smiled with a clipped laugh, “So I guess we’re both just messing up his bed. I hope he has servants to wash his linens.”

“Well, if it bothers you that much, we can both bathe, little vampire.”

Genevieve instantly blushed, looking away from the larger man. She stopped fiddling around and tracing his scars and averted her gaze from him entirely.

“Like, together?”

This time it was Nick’s turn to blush as he looked down at her. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t thought of the words before he said them, but now the idea was running rampant in his mind. The idea of her naked in a bath with him made his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

He could picture her soft, pale skin warmed by the water, being cleansed by the scented oils. Bubbles barely covering the curve of her breast.

Nick hadn’t thought about sex before. It never seemed like a necessary or even an important function to him. He couldn’t bear children. There would be no point of it as a leisurely activity to him since he’d never really cared for companionship. But as he looked down at her, the thought became an all too prevalent one.

And then the thoughts halted as he thought of her thighs wrapped around his head. The two identical puncture marks that she’d shown him that were all too close to her core. He felt the amorous feelings turn into angry ones at how that choice was ripped from her.

He huffed heavily.

“Nick…” He realized that somehow she’d managed to slip from his arms and was standing in her torn slip, staring at him. She had a look of concern across her face, “a-are you alright?”

“I just…I’m sorry,” he sighed, shifting up in the bed. He hadn’t bothered to pull the furs up to his waist as he watched her slowly pad back to him but avoiding looking at him. Another blush rose to his cheeks as he realized she was trying to not look at the appendage which had blood rushing to it. He lifted the furs to his waist, “I’m sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.”

“Will you tell me about them while we get a bath?”

“M-my thoughts?”

She nodded shakily, “yeah.”

“I don’t think you want to know about my thoughts,” he said sheepishly, pulling the furs tighter as he felt the same feeling at his lower appendage. It was like a tightening in his abs as he felt his stomach warm, “I-I don’t think it’s appropriate…especially with what you’ve been through, little vampire.”

“Appropriate…” she muttered softly to herself. Nick watched her with a nod, and she gave a slight gasp, before biting the inside of her cheek. He noticed her eyes fall back to the furs, and the now slightly obvious erection that was still growing the longer he looked at her. And then she stared at him and put her hands around her body, covering it the best she could as she was holding her shoulders, “I-I see.”

“I’m going to kill him, you know,” he muttered, trying to change the subject away from his embarrassing issue, “and it’s not because of this…I-I just…no one should be treated in the manner that you were. I’ve seen revolutions and falls of empires, and a woman such as yourself shouldn’t ever be harmed…I-“

But the words held frozen in his throat as Genevieve slid her hands over the thin straps and allowed the slip to fall away from her body. Nick’s breathing hitched as his eyes explored her naked form. With a blush, he turned his head away from her.

“Nick.”

“I-I’ll get you a towel so that you can cover yourself,” he said quickly, rushing to get out of the bed, forgetting his own naked form in the process. Genevieve gave another short gasp, her thighs clenching instinctively as her own thoughts about the golem started coming to life, “o-or my tunic. I-you should be cl-“

But his voice gave pause once more as she grabbed his thick wrist. His throat went dry, and it felt like he truly was made of nothing more than clay and twigs as he was already at his breaking point with the vampire. He wanted to destroy everyone who had so much as looked at her wrong as she gave him a sweet look.

“Nick?”

“What ever is it that you desire, little vampire?”

“I don’t want to put my clothing back on,” she replied quietly. He shuddered at the insistence, his eyes courageously tracing her form, memorizing it, “would you rather I draw us a bath, or should we go back to your bed?”

Nick felt his heart racing at the question. Here this beautiful vampire maiden was, standing in front of him, holding his arm and saying that she wanted to be unclothed around him. With his racing thoughts, he didn’t know how safe it was, especially since he hadn’t had the impulses before, but he didn’t particularly care.

With her he wanted to explore them. And judging by her gaze on his hardened cock, she wanted to explore it too.

“W-we should get clean, little vampire.”

“I don’t know how much of our sins we can wash away,” she said seductively, stepping towards him. He felt the smoothness of her stomach bump against his erection as she closed the distance between the two of them, “but I’ll help with yours if you help with mine.”

“Whatever you desire,” he whispered in reply. His breathing was steady and slow as he leaned down to capture her cool lips with his own warm ones, “stay warm under the furs and I’ll draw us a bath…”

Chapter 7

Tag List: @lohnes16, @blueeberryyy

#jakten #marvel #marvel au #the avengers #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #vampire #siren #dark elves #golem #nick fowler smut #nick fowler #the 355

6 notes · View notes

jenoptimist · 4 years

Text

request:

Can you maybe write something with Mark? ✨

ミ✭ WARNINGS: mentions blood, contains minor violence and briefly mentions injuries

✮ Pairing: mark x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: angst (with a happy ending!)

✮ Word count: 5.7k

♡ Yakult says: thank you so much nonie for requesting !! 💙 admittedly, it could be waay angsty-er but, well, i’m happy with it and i sincerely hope you are too! sorry it took a while for me to upload it ://

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey it’s Mark– dude, shut up! Uhhh what was I saying? Oh yeah, just leave a message and I’ll get back to you whenever I can.”

“Mark? Um, Minhyung? It’s me. Y/n. Look, I know that we haven’t spoken in a long time but you said. . .”–you shake your head, as if it would miraculously banish the memory from your mind–“no, that doesn’t matter. At least probably not to you. Um, listen, if this is the Minhyung who prefers chocolate covered bananas over chocolate covered strawberries, and who told Youngho that the hideous red shirt with the blue stripes looked good on him, and who helped me count poker chips in Italy, then I really need your help. Please, please call me back.”

There were some moments that wished you could take back in your life. Meeting Lee Minhyung wasn’t one of them. Leaving him, however, was. It was nothing dramatic, nothing like those scenes in movies. There was no crying on either end but there was, however, heavy pleading from his side.

(In the years to come, his pleading would haunt you. The way his voice was small and how it trembled. Not to mention how he looked at you. God how he looked at you. He looked at you like he was being ripped apart from the seams.)

But you had to go. The life you two lead wasn’t a sustainable one, not anymore. Not since your older brother disappeared without a trace. Without you. And you were so exhausted. It was the bone deep kind of exhaustion that was built in layers by one too many brushes with death, run-ins with the police along with a hefty dose of the constant fear of living. How long had it been since you could roam the streets freely without the low thrum of unease?

It had been far too long for you to remember.

“You know what will happen once they notice your gone, right? It’s safer here! With me! Youngho might even come back!”

“I can’t keep doing this anymore.” You replied quietly, your grip tightening on the straps of your backpack that you hastily stuffed with essentials.

“But–”

“I’m tired, Minhyung, so tired,” you refused to meet his eyes as you said it, hating the expression he wore. “Please let me go.”

You would have offered him to come with you, the words were on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken at any moment. But you wouldn’t ask that of him. Minhyung had his parents to think about and he wouldn’t risk their lives, not even for you. And even if he had offered to join you, you would have declined for that reason alone. You weren’t going to make him choose, even as the ugly voice in the back of your told you that if you begged hard enough, he’d go with you.

“I’ll miss you.” Minhyung said as he reached for your hand and you allowed him to hold onto it, slowly meeting his eyes. His watery eyes were scanning your face as if he wanted to commit you to memory. And he probably did. You were leaving him after all. After a few more seconds of staring, he released his warm grasp on your hand and raised his own to cover his eyes. “Go,” he said before he clenched jaw tightly. “If you don’t go now, you’ll be caught.”

“I’ll miss you.” You echoed quietly and allowed yourself to look at him from head to toe, just one more time, and then you fled seamlessly into the darkness of the night.

Minhyung hasn’t asked any questions. He hasn’t asked why your hair is dirty and matted or why your clothes are grimy and discolored. He hasn’t even commented on the fact that you’re emitting a putrid stench–not that he would ever. Minhyung had always been too kind to say anything that would make someone feel embarrassed or ashamed. In fact, instead of saying anything, his grip on the steering wheel is tight enough that his knuckles are white. The speed that he’s driving at is concerning but then again you suppose that the way your entire body is aching is a large cause for concern, too.

You want to shut your eyes, maybe pretend that you are some place else. You could pretend that you are relaxing with Youngho at your side, telling you a funny anecdote that you’ve heard a thousand times before.

But you can’t do that.

There are loud warning bells in your head telling you that you aren’t safe, not yet. But you’re with Minhyung. This is the boy, man now, actually, that you know, no, used to know like the back of your hand. The man who was literally your partner in crime. And he called you back. He called you back. Even after all this time, he’s helping you. Surely that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

“Hey! Hey,” he says, a clear tinge of panic in his voice, “stay with me, y/n!”

“Safe with you, yeah?” Your voice comes out a little rough around the edges and slurred.

“Of course. Definitely. You’re always safe with me.”

“Need some sleep, Minhyung. G’na close my eyes, ‘kay?”

There’s a string of curses in reply as your eyes flutter close. You want to dream of pleasant things and the only way you can think to achieve that is to block out Minhyung and retrieve an old memory.

Youngho had Minhyung in a headlock, rubbing at his hair affectionately. You sat on the couch, laughing at their antics. The three of you were obviously still giddy from the outcome from the previous night.

It was your first job and it went smoothly. Youngho had worried tremendously and frequently spoke into your ear piece but you and Minhyung had done great. Compared to what Youngho had to do on a regular basis, it was nothing extremely dangerous. Besides, a seasoned member of the team did most of the talking so it wasn’t as if it you and Minhyung had a major role in the operation. Regardless of your role, the pay was good. Really good.

“Let’s get ice-cream!” Your brother suggested as he finally released his hold on Minhyung. His grin was wide, already making his way to the shoe rack that was positioned by the door.

You shared a pleased smile with Minhyung as you stood up and followed your brother. “Can we do a movie marathon too?”

“Absolutely!” he said once he slipped on his shoes, “we can stop by seven-eleven and by some snacks.”

Minhyung whooped loudly and you couldn’t help but beam at your brother as you looped your arm through Minhyung’s. In turn, Youngho ruffled your hair and pinched your both of your cheeks, and laughed as he dodged your lame attempt at hitting his bicep.

You can see Youngho laughing vividly, his eyes the shape of pretty crescents with his head thrown forward, while you and Minhyung throw bits of popcorn at each other. But then the vision starts to slip away and you desperately want to cling on to it, even as your eyes slowly open on their own accord. The brightness that spills into the room from the window causes a dull pain in them. You shut your eyes a moment later, trying to bring the dream back but it’s completely useless. The door opens just as you open them again. Minhyung’s expression changes to one of relief when he looks at you and is quick to sit by your side.

“What’s the damage doc?” You try for a light, playful tone but instead it comes out with a wince, your voice coarse with disuse.

“Worse than Mexico but better than Italy.”

You huff out a laugh that’s entirely too bitter. “Anything is better than Italy.”

Minhyung purses his lips together and nods in agreement. There’s a loud ‘smack’ that echoes throughout the room when he slaps his hands on his thighs.

“I’ll grab you something to eat.” He says as he stands up and makes his way to the door. With one last long look at you, he exits the room and leaves you alone with your thoughts.

Italy was as beautiful was in the movies and the pictures you have seen, and the food was incredible. You almost begged for permission to go sight seeing. Youngho would have allowed you and Minhyung to go and you knew it, however you also knew that the situation was serious. No dilly-dallying allowed, no matter how much you wanted to, or else there would be consequences.

Minhyung stealthily sent faces your way which had you clenching your hands into fists to keep you from bursting out into laughter. Your brother was doing no better, smothering his mouth with the palm of his mouth as the leader of the operation went through what needed to be prepared for the next day. The preparation and mission was relatively easy; the cash would go in the two black briefcases while the poker chips would go in the two brown briefcases. The money had to be counted numerous times, a job that was given to you and Minhyung, and the weapons would be prepared and examined by your brother and some of the others. The next day would involve going to a lush hotel where the trading of goods would occur and then you were on a flight home.

“Nine hundred and ten, nine hundred and thirty, nine hundred and forty,” Minhyung murmured as he counted the cash. You added another tally to your page once you counted another line of poker chips that equaled one thousand. “Nine hundred and ninety, one thousand!” Minhyung placed a rubber band around the cash to keep it bundled and shoved it neatly into the briefcase.

“This sucks,” you commented as he leaned back on his chair and sighed. “I keep losing count.” The tally system that you had could only help so much.

“Same,” he said, rubbing at his eyes, “should we get some gelato?”

A grin split your face, eyes twinkling. “Of course!” You answered. Then, with a frown, you added, “we should finish first.” Minhyung nodded in agreement and then the two of you began counting again, only this time with more vigor.

“Are you nervous for tomorrow?” Minhyung asked after he shoved a large spoonful of his cantucci flavored gelato into his mouth. The two of you were quick to count the money and purchase gelato before finding yourselves back in the hotel, sitting side by side on the tiled ground of the small balcony that connected to the room. Even though the door was closed, the two of you still spoke in low voices.

“A little bit,” you answered truthfully. Youngho already informed you that he would be giving you a gun, just in case, he said. The target practice that he’d given you and Minhyung was plenty but you still weren’t confident in your skills. “Aren’t you?”

Minhyung nodded, his mouth in a thin line. After a moment that had you mulling over tomorrow, thoughts as quick as lightning filtering through your mind, he rolled his shoulders back and shook himself. “We’ll be fine. It’ll go well, like it always does.” He said optimistically, knocking your shoulder with his.

The room was completely silent as the two people in charge from either side sat across from one another. The opposing leader was counting the money that was tucked neatly in one of the briefcases, the other three were being held by you and Minhyung. Your gaze swept from the table to the people surrounding the room. Everyone was standing as straight as a ruler and looked like they didn’t even dare breathe while they stared intensely at their opposing group. One of the women met your eye, a brow arched. The steely glint in her eyes made you shift your gaze and readjust your clammy grip on the briefcase. On your right, Minhyung moved the slightest bit towards you, his bicep pressing against yours.

With a nod from both of those in charge, you and Minhyung were waved over. No matter how many operations you were involved in, and it had been plenty by now, nervousness still overcame you. Being the target of several pairs of eyes made you swallow thickly, hand clenching onto the handle of the briefcase as if it was the only thing anchoring you to the room. Once you placed the briefcase on top of the table, you spun on your heel and made your way back to your designated position. When you turned to face the centre of the room, the money was being checked.

Chaos errupted not even a second after the briefcases were closed. The other side had taken out their weapons and aimed at your side, greed and malice painting their faces. Adrenaline flooded your system and you fumbled as you reached for the small gun that you tucked inside of the blazer your wore. Your eyes darted to where your brother was standing by the door. Or where he should have been standing because he was nowhere in signt. From beside you, Minhyung grabbed your elbow and hauled you to the direction of the door.

“We need to get out of here. Now.” Minhyung’s voice left no room for argument. You cocked your gun and nodded in agreement, still looking around for Youngho.

The path to the exit wasn’t an easy feat. You hadn’t even taken three steps when you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder. Minhyung turned as you stumbled into his back, quickly aimed somewhere behind you, his eyes sharp and his mouth thin, and then fired his own gun. From that point on, it progessively became worse and worse. Eventually, you and Minhyung, by some miracle, managed to escape the establishment. You were both extremely worse for wear, you more than him—with the amount of gashes and bullets your body now owned, it was a miracle that you were still concious.

“Youngho,” you slurred, slumped against Minhyung side as he lead the two of you the car. It was sheer luck that the streets were mostly empty. “Gotta find him.” You added, wincing as Minhyung carefully laid you on top of the passenger seat. He left the door open and left you, the telltale sound of the truck being opened and closed reaching your ears as you tried not to focus on the searing pain everywhere.

“He’s gone,” Minhyung replied and when your eyes snapped open to stare at him in disbelief, you found him rummaging through a first aid kit. The deep frown that he wore didn’t suit him. It sat strangely on his face, especially with the creases that imprinted themselves on his forehead–you wished that you could smooth them away, if you had the energy you would have said something funny to lighten the mood. “I’ll explain later, just– just let me fix you first, okay? I can’t– Not you too. Please, y/n.” He was frantically rummaging through the first aid kit, grabbing what he needed.

You weren’t going to deny him to begin with but the the pleading in his eyes packed an extra punch in the gut. Instead of saying: ‘of course you won’t lose me, you’ll never lose me. You’ll always have me.’ You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut and allowed him to work on you. The disinfectant stung and you had to clench your jaw as he stitched the majority of your wounds but you survived.

“Your turn,” You told him as you blinked rapidly, as if it would clear your slightly foggy vision. “C’mon, I’ll help you.”

“No it’s okay. I got it.” Minhyung replied but you ignored him and he didn’t even try to pick a fight as you helped him tend to his wounds. He probably would have been finished much quicker if had he done it himself but of course you were going to help him–the two of you were a team. A family. Even if it was just the two of you now, if he was to be believed. And you did believe him although it was difficult to ignore the part of you that raged and wanted to call him a liar.

Just as Minhyung settled into the driver’s seat, the back door opened and someone from your team slid in. She was panting heavily, dried red splotches covering her face like freckles. You and Minhyung traded looks, mouths pressed into thin lines as she demanded him to drive off. You were hoping to hear what his explanation about Youngho, but you knew that he wasn’t going to say anything while there was additional company.

It was later that you found out that Youngho and Taeyong had hatched a plan for the four of you and a couple of others to escape. They had been planning it for weeks and Youngho had only told Minhyung their plan the previous night while you were sound asleep. Initally you were outraged. You weren’t proud of it but you threw accussations at Minhyung and he did nothing to stop you. Then, you were angry at your brother because he didn’t inform you of his plan. Because he left you and Minhyung behind, and what kind of brother was he to do that? How dare he leave you behind when the three of you promised you would never do that to each other. Finally, once the anger left your body, sadness washed over you like a huge wave, drowning you in it. You moved as quick as you could when Minhyung opened his arms and sobbed, wailing about thw unfairness of it all. He cried quietly with you, your bodies trembling in sync.

The two of you slept side by side that night, gripping each other tightly, tangled together. The nights to follow were the same, until it became an unspoken nightly occurrence. The others thought that the two of you were weird but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, and neither could he.

It’s been a almost two weeks since you called Minhyung – no, Mark - for help and neither of you have discussed, well, anything. There are questions that you have that keep piling up the longer you are here with him. Questions like how he managed to escape, how long has it been since he has been free and, most importantly, how he’s been doing. Judging by the nice, spacious house that he lives in, he has been doing really good for himself but you wonder if he has the same night terrors that you do–if he wakes up in cold sweat because of nightmares where they catch him and do what they did to you but worse. Way worse.

Your curiosity is never quenched because you are too busy befriending the people he lives with. There are six of them in total and they are all really nice; they never ask you intrusive questions, make you feel comfortable and seem to genuinely want to know you. You aren’t surprised that Minhy– Mark, has found them or vice versa because there has always been something comforting and safe about him. You aren’t sure about what he has told them about his past but it’s very obvious that they all care about him and admire him deeply. And Mark? He absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent deserves it. Of course he does. You think that he deserves the world and more. It’s just. . .when you see him with Kim ‘call me Haechan, everyone here does’ Donghyuck and how they interact with each other seamlessly, you feel a nasty case of jealousy and, maybe even worse, replaced. You are mature enough to admit to yourself that the jealousy you feel is completely ridiculous along with the whole being replaced thing. Obviously he has a new best friend. Why wouldn’t he? You are the one who left him all those years ago, not the other way around. If the roles were reversed, you probably would have gotten a new best friend too.

You suppress your feelings, try not to blatantly avoid the pair when you see them together, and instead focus on trying to fit in.

Surprisingly, it works–fitting in, that is. While the main issue is still a work in progress, you get along swimmingly with them group. You go cycling with Jeno and Jaemin, learn how to speak Mandarin thanks to Renjun and Chenle, play one-on-one soccer with Jisung and get roped into what Haechan and Mark do. Before you know it, you have slotted yourself into their lives and it has been a couple of months since Mark called you back. There is evidence of your presence in every room, from articles of clothing to little knick-knacks you have collected during your stay. You don’t have a room of your own or anything, Mark had set up a futon in his room and that was that.

It occurs to you over dinner as Haechan and Jisung fight for the last slice of garlic bread. The thought that you have been with them for that long has you dropping your cutlery on your plate and leaning back on your chair, staring at your empty plate. You should probably devise a plan to leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome and they’re all too kind and lovely to mention your long awaited departure to your face. Mark’s questioning eyes meet yours when you lift your gaze and you quirk the side of your mouth into a smile, shaking your head at him in dismissal. A small frown forms on his face at that so you tear your eyes away from him to the others. Jisung is smug as he purposefully chews slowly and exaggeratedly ‘mmm’s at the taste.

“I’m leaving,” you say lowly into the darkness as you lay on your futon, staring at up at the ceiling. They are the same words you said back then, too. Except this time you don’t want to go at all. As long overdue as it is, it’s hard to say the words confidently because you enjoy living here with them. “Tomorrow.” You add decisively before you can cave to your true feelings and end up staying with them forever.

“What?! No! You can’t!” Is Mark’s frantic reply. You hear him move around and then the lamp on his bedside locker is lighting up the room. When you turn to face him, he’s sitting up, facing you and staring at you with an expression that is a blend of disbelief and distraught. “I–” he falters, his eyes dropping from yours to his hands for a moment as he audibly exhales shakily. “I just got you back.” The words are spoken quietly, vulnerability spilling into it, and you hate yourself for doing this to him again.

“I know but Mark–”

“But what? You belong here, with us. With me. I can tell that you’re really happy here, y/n, so why are you saying this? Why do you need to go? Actually, where would you even go? And– And– Why are you leaving me again?” His voice is small. It trembles throughout the entirety of his words and cracks in the middle of the last question.

It feels like you’re nineteen all over again. Especially with the way he’s looking at you. It’s the same look that he gave you back then except it’s so much more worse. You avoid his eyes as you say, “I know I’ve stayed here way longer than I needed to and that you’re happier than I’ve ever seen you. There’s no way I’m risking your happiness in case they find me again. Besides,”–you swallow thickly, the next part of your sentence harder to say–“you don’t need me here.”

“That’s not fair,” although it’s still a whisper, Mark’s voice is stronger this time, the trembling gone, but still sounding terribly wounded. “You left me. And then my parents died and you weren’t there to see that I lost massive parts of myself.” He pauses, breathes deeply before continuing. “How could you think that I don’t need you here, or at all? Of course I do. I always have.”

“But you Haechan and all the others now, you don’t need me anymore.” You counter and there must be a sliver of something in your voice because Mark’s eyebrows furrow slightly. It’s clear when he has connected the dots because he says your name softly under his breath and looks at you tenderly. You flush, heat rising to your cheeks immediately knowing that he has found out how you have been feeling.

“It’s not the same,” he assures you firmly. “Haechan is amazing, they all are. They’ve taught me how to live again and confidently express myself. But you’re different, y’know? Just as amazing, of course! It’s just that we’ve been through a lot together and you played a really big part in molding me into the person I am today, and for the entire time that you were gone. . .I felt like I was missing my heart or my limb, or– or something.”

The sincerity in his voice soothes and untangles the knot that’s been weighing heavily in the pit of your stomach. You manage a small smile. “Your heart?” You repeat, teasingly, and there’s a snippet of a memory that unlocks in your brain–you, Mark and Youngho sitting in a small circle with Taeyong, Yongqin and Sicheng in a warm, sunlight room, listening to Sicheng intently as he read poetry aloud. You huff out a small laugh and, with mirth in your eyes as you look at him, your smile growing, you then follow up with, “I carry your heart with me.”

Mark, whose expression morphs from hurt, sincerity and concern to dazed before settling on a soft, sweet expression. He mirrors the mirth that you feel, a smile of his own adorning his face. “I carry it in my heart.”

Then, together, the two of you recite the next part. “I am never without it.”

The smile you wear hurts your cheeks but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Mark gestures you to his bed with a slight nod of his head and you waste no time climbing in under the covers with him, making yourself as comfortable as possible. The two of you don’t weave yourselves around one another, not like before, but Mark does grab your hand, his grip tight - although not tight enough to hurt - as if he were afraid that you’d run off in the middle of the night. You don’t blame him. What you do instead is give his hand a reassuring squeeze and then, gather the courage to ask the questions that you have been meaning to ask him for months. Mark tells you every little detail; he staged his death, he left almost a year after you and that for the most part, he is doing better. He admits that he has bad days and even worse night terrors but they aren’t as frequent as they were before. In turn, you answer the questions that he has for you, providing him with just as much detail as he gave you. By the time the two of you have stopped swapping stories, it’s early in the morning–you can tell by the slight brightness coming from the pale curtains.

“Hey Mark,” you call out quietly, not quite ready to sleep yet. Not with the remaining question you have for him. At this point, the two of you were spooning, your back against his sturdy chest with one of his arms thrown over your middle, your fingers laced through one another and his legs are flush against yours, copying how your legs fold. He hums, prompting you to continue. “Why did you call me back?”

“I told you didn’t I?” He murmurs sleepily, “Needed you. Missed you.” When the answer leaves his lips, you feel silly. He didn’t remember the promise he made you. It wasn’t a big deal–people break and forget promises all the time, so why wouldn’t he? “Besides,” he adds, interrupting your thoughts, “I promised you didn’t I?”

A lump forms in your throat and your lips quiver slightly as you feel the telltale signs of tears start to pool in your eyes. “Yeah,” you croak out, “you did.”

“Promise you and I will try our best to find your brother?” You give him an affirmative. “Good. G’na sleep now, ‘kay? Night”

“Good night.”

It takes a while for you to fall asleep although when you do, it’s the most comfortable and safest you have felt for a long while.

You sat glumly on the uncomfortable plastic chair, holding a bag of frozen vegetables on your swollen cheek to alleviate help the pain. Minhyung, the newbie, had rushed to give it to you the minute you limped through the door, clearly battered. That was before Youngho caught the sight of you, steered you into his room and promptly began lecturing you on the dangers of thinking you could handle certain situations on your own.

It wasn’t as if you particularly wanted to go by yourself. You would have loved if someone tagged along with you to scope out the area that you overheard some of the senior members whisper about to each other. The only problem was there was nobody here that you trusted, with the obvious exception of your older brother and his best friend, Taeyong. Unfortunately they were out doing a task that they were given so you had no choice but to quench your curiosity by yourself.

Evidently it was a mistake - which you knew now, obviously - because even with how stealthy you were, you had been caught. The ones who found you were taunting you by having a loud conversation about what they should to you. It had your heart palpitating uncomfortably, eyes wildly scanning for an exit. In the end, they tried to extract information from you by using some violent tactics–a punch or two here, a kick there and, the worst part of it all, they trailed a knife along your body, the tip of the blade extremely distinct under your clothes. When it became obvious that you weren’t going to reveal anything to them, they gave you a quick beating as a message and then let you go.

“This is why you haven’t been given any tasks yet.” Youngho said and then after a beat he added, “you’re sitting out for everything until I say so.” His tone was firm, his arms folded across his chest as he looked at you sternly.

You sputtered. “You can’t ground me! I’m totally good for action.” Your brother arched a brow at that, and even Minhyung shot you a look of disbelief. You wanted to argue but you knew it would be futile, so you gave him a quick nod.

“Good,” he walked over to you, petting your hair as he gave you a light hug so as to not bother your injuries. “Now go get some rest. Minhhyung, will you help them to their room please? I’ll grab some food.” And then he was off, leaving you with the guy you barely knew. Why couldn’t he have taken you there himself?

At first you hesistated as he stood close to you, prepared to catch you in case anything happened, but you slung an arm across Minhyung’s shoulder so that you could lean onto his side. It was an awkward walk to your room, the silence was so loud that you eventually gave in to talking to him.

“Thanks,” he hummed questioningly at you. “For the frozen veg,” you clarified, “you didn’t have to but I really appreciate it.”

You felt him shrug a shoulder, a reflex of his that you noticed while you slyly observed him conversing with the others. “It was no big deal,” he replied as he opened the door to your room and steered the two of you towards you bed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” You answered as you tried to find a comfortable position to lay down.

“Why did you go on your own? I mean, like, why didn’t you call anyone or anything?”

“Nobody I trust was free,” you told him plainly. “And besides,” you began to say as he mulled over your answer. “No-one actually answers my calls. Except for my brother and his friends.” You felt really lame for admitting that to him but it was the truth.

There was a beat of silence that stretched long enough for your statement to hang awkwardly in the air. Just as you were about to tell him that he could leave, he spoke up. “If you called me I would have answered.”

There were a million things that you wanted to say. Out of all of them, what came out was, “I don’t have your number.”

Minhyung shrugged, slightly rocking back and forth on his heels. “I could give it to you? I mean, if you want it. It’d be nice since I’ve heard we’re the closest on age here and all. We could be, you know, partners in crime or something.”

“Literally partners in crime,” you said, a small laugh escaping you at the truth of it all. You gave him a considering once over, which he seemed to fidget under. “Alright, but this means that you’ll have to answer every call I make.”

Minhyung’s mouth curled into a bright smile, excitement lighting his eyes. “I can do that.”

“Even if it’s something silly?” It was a challenge and test all in one.

“Even if it’s something silly.” He parroted back.

You stuck out your pink finger towards him and there wasn’t an inch of hesitation in him as his hooked his own around it. “It’s a promise then.”

“It’s a promise,” he agreed. When you released your pinky from his hold, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. With the bright smile still in place, he said, “I have a really good feeling about this for some reason.”

You mirrored his smile. “Me too.”

#me rn: hey.....hey.....how yall doin?#it been a while since i’ve been here 💀#but lets ignore that and move onto my usual commentary andks #this was originally supposed to be an addams family!au but idk what happened #well no i do andks what happened was i wasnt too sure about it so i started a new draft and now here we are #will i take more resquests??? who knows #i like receiving them but im always worried that the person who sent in the request wont be satisfied :///#i have a list of vague plots so i might just pick a random one and do that??????????#but i also have wips for taeyong doyoung kunhang and sicheng 💀💀#oh and that mark addams family!au i mentioned earlier that i abandoned rip #i just double checked and i also have a draft for lucas and the start of a draft that hasnt been appointed a member yet i- am i good??????#spoiler: lucas’ is a soulmate!au and i also have engineering student!kunhang + a fic involving magic for sicheng #oh and also:#the ty is a fem!reader regency era and the dy is a fake dating!au #anyway here come the tags:#nct #nct au #nct scenarios #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #nct imagines #nct 127 angst #nct dream angst #nct mark #mark lee #mark au #mark imagines #mark scenarios #mark angst

28 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 42

Updates came through pictures of the home floors being torn up that you had wished to change and repair, with glimpses of each room being finished off had arrived. Piles of wood came in the mail next with a shot of your new chandelier that was hung up in its place. Along with the pirate ship chandelier your dad had help swapping out one of the two circular sconces hung a good fourteen feet off the ground from the eighteen foot ceiling to give your dad a good head clearance after several checks on chain lengths to find the right level. The dining room was first and room by room the team got to assembling everything to the impressive sketches that were easily to transfer to diagrams they used for creating what you had dreamed of. Including the adorable rounded built in bench for your dining area on your floor to go with a small table you had yet to choose you wanted to shop for with Richard.

More and more it was coming together and with each room done your dad got to cleaning all that he could, knowing you’d have done the same thing to get it all ready to be touched with hands or bare feet, same as you’d wash clothes before wearing them. Upstairs in the kids floor and your dad’s spare bedroom the crew of workers got to creating the bunk beds you had designed to impressive detail that swapped easily to blueprints for them at how precise all the measurements and designated layout you had compiled for them. Built ins for the nursery were among that list with a better setup in the damaged closets through that floor. The cabinets and counters on the moved layout included the new island for the kitchen and a second in your closet with bench attached, all full of storage to add to your hideaways. All these were just the perfect and off to the side with disposable camera in hand he captured the whole process to get the tiles laid in perfectly level. Flooring for each room was laid when each built in had been completed to ensure the floors wouldn’t have to be redone again later.

A few days later when he was certain that the tiles were solidified and able to be scrubbed stirring up the lingering urge to buy you the appliances to fill the empty spaces between nights of eyeing your furniture trying to guess just where you might want to move everything. For his own floor at least he had pictured coupons cut out of what he wanted to get to furnish his area to go with the paint choices he wished to have. This would take a while to get the home finalized but over the rest of your lifetimes you could make it a home for you and your soon to be growing family.

Fresh off a night shoot through the apartment door you went smirking as you flipped through the latest group of pictures from your dad he’d sent by mail. Expecting the lights off when you noticed they were on and out of exhaustion it took a moment to realize that Richard must have flown in to surprise you a day earlier. After locking the door to the kitchen you went finding your groggy fiancé in just a pair of sweats cooking you supper humming to himself. His feet shuffling side to side and post flinch at your hands easing from his elbows down his arms he smirked hearing, “Wanna dance handsome?”

“For the rest of my life.” Around he turned enjoying a loving moment of dancing together with you between stolen stirs of the meal on the skillet. With a warm kiss once the skillet was moved to the cool burner the dance came to an end and simply serving out the food. Onto his lap you were settled to eat together beginning the process of sharing all you’d missed. “I’m so sorry I missed those days responding to your calls and messages, my Love.”

“It’s ok, knew it must have been important. Didn’t think it would be another house for us.”

“Well I think it’s perfect to start our marriage off on the right foot in a place that’s all ours. Brought you some pictures, we can go through yours as well, compare notes.”

“How come you didn’t tell me you were coming in early?” you said easing your arms around the back of his neck deepening his smile having you in his arms again.

“Date mix up this once, though I do love surprising you this once it was by chance.” His arms tightened and he lifted you up as he stood carrying you to bed, “Now, bedtime.”

Shared pictures had a trip to the nearest paint shop to look at paint swatches for you to give a try in the break before the flight to New Zealand. Small plans like where furniture would be moved had been sketched out and marked off a few tasks at least for the big move you had to handle soon. Thankfully easier with the bunk beds already built as a surprise from your dad that he had it handled for you including having bought the mattresses for the eight of them the crews were glad to help ease into place to finish the job off. The moving crew had been hired already for the date filming was through and they would help a bit to bring everything inside, all mostly staying on the main floor except for the mattress that you and your dad, if they refused, could get up to the third floor to the empty non nursery bedroom under the staircase.

Over the big move the one thing brighter than this was collecting and paying for the wedding band he couldn’t stop stealing glances at while you were at work beaming at how everything was falling into place. He only had another week until it was time to head back to England and it took everything in him not to spoil the surprise for Lee that he could be moving in with you as he clearly wanted and was hinting to. Pictures didn’t help while he practically pouted over the pictures of the basement he even made suggestions of what colors he would choose for those walls he later would confirm with a trip to the store to find swatches of his own.

Half a week more was all Richard could handle and chuckling to himself he was off to the airport leaving you the task of putting the young man out of his misery so he could plan moving in when you decided to. You wouldn’t mind living in a half done home as long as you were working to finish it. And against his urge to be there to help you get it ready he did have to get back to film another tv appearance to finish off the list of jobs that might keep him from being done in time to fly out to New Zealand to be with you again in that wonderful place. A feeling Richard shared of the new place he had bought until he was staying with you to film an extra slot in King Kong and assist with whatever extra roles Peter might need in Return of the King before the big trip back to New York to actually move in with you.

Scenes flew by and finally you had everything with Lee’s help in your living room, including his furniture that now his siblings had shared they grew out of the interest in having his hand-me-downs for their own college dorms. Thankful for sharing the moving truck along with the team he helped to empty the apartments that you both turned the keys in for making sure that the mail boxes were empty before you did so. The truck drivers gave an estimate on when they would arrive at the new place and once the taxi arrived the trip to the same lovely airport was underway.

Trying to deflect the subject you asked Lee, “Glad you got some new clothes?” Referring to the wardrobe the film crew let you guys have. While some of the pieces you wore were a bit out of your taste you were thrilled to get the fluff accented jacket from your winter scenes along with the silver daisy ring you now wore on your right ring finger that had helped to cover the ring indent from your engagement ring while on screen. All the rest could be passed on to your cousins back in Texas or donated.

“I do enjoy free clothes, thought they might charge us for them though. Had to pay for one of the guys’ jackets on Soldier’s Girl.”

“I think it might be for our unique measurements.”

“No, they gave Tracy her wardrobe too, whole main slot got theirs,” making his brows furrow, “Kind of odd though. Like a fire sale.”

“Maybe they just do that for their Canadian shows, dump the wardrobes. Glad they didn’t try to give me that car. That clutch was bitchy as hell.”

Lowly he chuckled, “Thought it was just my feet being bigger than yours.” That had his eyes on you and his pout coming on, “Thanks again for letting me put my stuff in your basement. It won’t be in the way? Of all your things?”

You smirked answering, “No, I am fairly certain it won’t be.”

“Do you know when you’re going to move in?”

“Dad’s been picking up some tarps and stuff for us to get started on the primer for the rooms that were patched, which is pretty much all of the ones from the main floor up. Guess the old guy ran out of energy at the basement he only broke the pantry. Then there’s appliances.”

“So, like a few weeks?”

“Don’t know, we’ll see, a lot of walls to cover.”

“Any faster if I help?”

“If you like, but you don’t have to.”

“I like to paint.”

Security went easily except for the awkward grin you traded with the security agent who looked inside the box in his hand and then to you, “My wedding band.”

“Congratulations,” he said. Closing the box he put back in your satchel he asked you to empty for him seeing an unreadable clump of that and your pens and coin purse that didn’t turn out to be anything dangerous at all. The reveal greatly calmed his nerves from a start of the shift find he had been sharing with the other guards of how the passenger was arrested when the items were to be confiscated.

“Thank you, was a bit scared to mail it home.”

“I would be too.” He replied while you filled your bag again you shouldered with shoes in hand to step aside and pull your converse back on while Lee tied his sneakers back on.

All the way out to the bus once your bags were claimed from the baggage terminal Lee smiled trying to be coy that he was working his way back to the topic of the apartment again. A set of posters on the subway of new films out soon gave you a nice smokescreen to distract him all the way through the cameras and people excited to see you back in town again on their ways about their lives. All that missed the bouncy customer or familiar face gone for so long. Up the front stoop you went glad to be out of the public view feeling oddly sentimental back to the first time you’d gone up this stoop. Five flights later another sigh came from Lee who was following you to eat with you and your dad close to exploding to just demand the basement.

Right to your room the duffel and suitcase were taken and left while your smiling dad was setting the lunch he’d fixed for you three on the counter, right off knowing something was up with Lee. “Welcome back Lee.” He rumbled and watched you come back with a small gift bag with spare set of keys in hand he’d agreed to have cut for you to give to Lee as a surprise. Instantly knowing why you’d gone for the bag first thing to keep from hurling it at him later if he kept it up.

“Thanks, missed being around you too. Heard you’ve been busy mastering all the repairs of the new home.”

His eyes however shifted to the bag you dangled from its handles, “Merry Unbirthday there Grinner.”

“What did you get me?” he all but hummed out in your dad’s move closer to accept your tight hug. Tentatively he poked his fingers in the top of the bag to peek inside and his lips parted at the key ring hooked on his finger now out of the bag. “Why are there keys?” He managed to crack out making you giggle.

“Well I don’t want you trying to break the damn door down to get in to your apartment each night.” That broke the damn and with an elated shriek of sorts he over your back crashed into your dad’s chest around you hugging you both muffling your giggles to your dad’s deep chuckles patting him on the back until his step back freed you again.

“You’re serious?” He squeaked out with brows lifted.

“Seriously Lee, even when your agent sends you to LA, I have the room I’m not gonna have you staying in some hotel or whatever.”

“He does like to send me there,” he replied almost painfully.

Joe, “But you can always fly back, and when you pick to be in a relationship or whatever you can still come visit, come see the puppy we are going to pick.”

Lee’s open mouthed smile came back, “You’re getting a puppy?!”

“Not right away, still have to get the house good and back from New Zealand and all that, maybe for the holidays.” Deepening his grin even more.

Lee took his seat as your dad nudged you to yours to get eating saying, “For now, eat up, I know you are both chomping at the bit to get started and we could get a good deal handled before lunch if we time it right.”

Lee asked, “I do have to ask, we’re painting, don’t they have crews for that?”

Your dad answered, “The quote I got calling a company that paints was $800 supplies not included and they only work three hours a day, which by their math would take them to do one room.”

You scoffed, “Lazy bastards.”

The reply making him laugh and Lee smirk surprised at you, “Exactly, we’ve painted barns as a family in two days before. Huge barns, we could kill half the floor by nightfall easy I got L’s ladders he said we could use and we can get pizza tonight, stuffed crust then go and kill some more tomorrow and pause when the moving truck arrives. How did you split belongings, because, his stuff and those stairs-,”

You both answered, “His/Mine is in the back.”

“And we’ll tell them when it’s his stuff and they can use his front steps.” You added.

Your dad asked Lee, “How do you think your parents will take the news?”

That had Lee’s excited grin flinch down again, “Um, well, my dad actually got transferred back to Oklahoma. They moved back last month.”

“Lee,” you and your dad said together while you placed a hand on his shoulder luring his smile out again. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Joe, “Your Gran ok?”

Lee nodded, “She’s good, better, but dad missed home and the land and she needs help with her bee keeping and honey products which mom will be managing while dad still works and does his bit on the weekends. Sally and Will both got into southern universities so they’re close by and going to love that, so they will be thrilled that I have a home base here while they’re away.”

Joe, “You’re always gonna have a place at our homes, you know that.”

Lee nodded, “Dad says it helped that I moved out when I did, now I’ve been, I’ll say ‘on my own’ for a couple years almost, that helped his saying that with me on my feet and you guys here to be my family and support when they can’t, case in point my appendix, that they felt ok moving back again. And I’ve been working Off-Broadway parts and I’ve got another I’m auditioning for while you’re off to New Zealand. The two awards I’ve been nominated for from those roles they’re so proud and have been so excited to see me study and graduate twice with a Bachelor’s degree and it is a bit scary to not have them in their townhouse a subway stop away. But I can do it. You both did such amazing things all on your own so I know it’s not impossible.” He glanced your way asking, “How are the grandparents taking the move?”

“I haven’t really spilled I put money on it, they have this show they’re working on getting together before the premier next week. I have emailed Babu that I found a place, a home and he shared they were over the moon, inches from throwing money to get it for me if it was out of my budget because I mentioned that I was waiting on the Bard funds. They haven’t said much past progress on their show and there’s something in me saying they’re already picking out my wedding dress, because it was huge when I told them Rich proposed. Long call, it’s big.”

Lee smirked chuckling along with your dad who said, “Oh they picked some designs from top designers, including an adaptation of the one they had planned for your mom’s.”

That had Lee looking between you reading the mood at the hardly mentioned mysterious mom that was subtly taken as a sore topic for the both of you, “They did? I thought I’d be too short for that dress.”

Lee, “I’m picturing poofy.”

You looked at him, “It’s actually more, think swan lake, jewel accents around the edges and down the dress, which is pink and it’s a mermaid figure with a sheer back section.”

He was smiling again, “Pink dress?”

“If you get married in the snow you have to stand out. It’s a blush at best, really beautiful.”

Hand extended your dad patted your hand, “If you want the dress they will make sure it fits your figure flawlessly.”

“You don’t think they’d force a big bash?”

“No,” he shook his head, “They’ve actually seen pictures and video of the reception we had and they love the pictures, if you wanted a ceremony at home on the ranch they would be all for it. Less stress and they could see where you grew up outside of their visitations.”

Lee purred, “So, how will they act if you bought a house?”

After swallowing your mouthful you had been chewing you replied, “Nowhere near as bad as it will be when they hear Rich bought a house too in England and we’ve both picked rooms for which would fit a possible nursery.” That had your dad chuckle around his mouthful.

Lee, “Wow, babies already?”

“We just want to know where to put the baby when we get one,”

Lee chuckled, “Where to put it,”

“There’s a room on the third floor, you’ll see it, I walk in, it’s the perfect spot for a nursery.”

Your dad said, “You do just know, right up there with where you want the pool table or big screen, you catch a vibe.”

Lee, “I can’t wait to see your baby room.”

Excitedly you said, “I picked a pirate ship chandelier for it.” Parting his lips in a smile, “Peter Pan theme.”

Lee, “I am so jealous, where the hell did you find a pirate ship chandelier?”

“L’s books he gave us for supplies and lighting.”

Lee, “You are going to have such lucky stunning babies. I am so jealous, love you both, but so jealous, and if I ever do get a baby on the way you are decorating my nursery.”

“Your babies are going to be so tall,” Your dad chuckled again, “Mine up in the air, cuz they could take after him and get actual legs for days or be tiny like me.” Your head turned to your dad, “Speaking of which, we need a courtesy level for those shelves in the kitchen that anything communal is down where I can reach it.”

He nodded saying, “I actually made sure your cabinets are a bit longer than average, which the builders were a bit confused until I said how tall you are.”

“Tall,” you giggled out and Lee laughed knowing what you were hinting to. “Me on my toes the Director was floored when I got back asking if I’d grown. Said I was stretching and he didn’t believe me till I went flat footed again.”

Your dad chuckled and said, “Communal levels are accepted, and your reading nook, got you a special set of steps for you that can be moved around to match the shelves. Since there’s carpet there we can lay down a runner to keep from getting indents in it. You could still grow taller, who knows, I grew another three inches when I hit 26, you burst up 6 inches a few years back, who knows.”

“I don’t imagine myself shooting up another six inches,” you giggled out, “And there is no telling how much easier it would be to get roles where they don’t have to worry about pairing me with a living tree like Lee here. You should have seen the panic first day when we showed on set and I was in sneakers and he’s a good foot plus over me,” making Lee chuckle lowering his fork.

Lee while you took another bite said, “Full deer in the headlights till she goes up nearly on her toes. Loved it, each day seeing her just kill their expectations they set for her. Legit they thought she was around 5 ft 9 on set before she got there just seeing her in the Ring compared to Amber.”

Your dad said, “You’re always able to stretch and defy appearances, and you will continue to, even in ballet you make the most elegant long lines like you have legs for days just like your mom could do. Your height has never held you back until those idiots at the London Ballet used it as an excuse to not use a Bolshoi prodigy. And they are eating those words since Bard came out I can bet you that.”

You nodded and said, “Babushka called about that, they asked what my schedule was next year,” parting their lips. “She in her own screw you stoic flare said that as long as the director who tried to hint that I had to screw him on a night out on the town to get a role was working there I would never touch their company door again.”

Lee, “Good for her,”

“All while Babu had been leaking the reason I didn’t renew my contract and now there’s a twenty five principal dancer roster who have filed a lawsuit saying they were exploited out of their company.”

Lee, “Oh shit!”

“Exactly, it is, huge. The director got fired and all these companies and doing an inventory of their casting directors and have been snapping up those formerly blacklisted dancers for their next seasons.”

Your dad said, “They did the right thing, you aren’t changing your mind, are you?”

“The Royal Ballet actually asked if I would be up to a sort of Little Mermaid show they are going to film, so it would be one performance, ballet and the musical aspect, they need someone that can do what I did in Bard it’s a whole sort of alternative ballet twist. I told them I’d be up for it, the whole thing is going for this children’s hospital charity as for tickets and disc sales, the director’s kid was sick and he saw so many kids there with parents struggling and it’s going to be so good but they want to nail down the cast now.”

Lee, “You gotta do it.”

Your dad nodded, “That would be fantastic, and there’s no telling how your friends will blow up about it like they did Chicago. Do they show the kids the show?”

“Yes, they’re going to have a whole premier in a few hospitals for the kids and their parents. Which it’s getting Disney’s permission for the musical and it sounds really fun. It’s the songs the kids all know it’s just got ballet added to it.”

Lee smiled, “And you’re Ariel?”

“Yes,” you smiled, “They want my hair a bit longer though, it’s been good that I got to tie my hair back this last month, since I lightened my hair it’s been growing like crazy. Nearly to the middle of my back when I straighten it. And they just have this apple red hair spray they’re gonna try on my hair to try and keep from my having to bleach it all and then go fire engine red that I’ll be talking to the Queens about. And they have extensions ”

Your dad, “I think it’s mainly due to having the color there to show where it used to be. When do rehearsals start?”

“Next week, then it’s two weeks of rehearsals then it’s on that Saturday.”

Lee asked, “And they always had Little Mermaid in mind?”

That had you giggle, “Mr Tarl from Julliard is heading it with Mr Combs and they said they could get in touch with me and again I’m going short notice on this but it’s so good from what they told me. They did say it would be hitting the press today.”

Your dad asked, “And the gramps know?”

“Babu does, that was part of the call for the London Ballet thing. No doubt will be bragging again, they are going to jet out for it, should have their show stable by then and they are thrilled it’s for charity and they can buy a copy or dozens of copies. And then I can show them the place, sort of a two-fer.” That had them chuckle in your shoulder pop taking another bite of your food.

Hair tied back once you’d changed from your sweater to an already paint splattered t shirt to go with your shorts that you didn’t mind getting paint on as you had another pair of jeans ready to be cut off soon at the countless tears they’d gained over the years. Practically shaking Lee eyed the front gate you unlocked followed by the next two, the first you locked behind you leaving the mudroom open in Lee’s excited circle that had you giggling showing him first the chandelier and starting with the book hideaway your hand latched onto your dad’s in each exciting discovery of what he’d added from your designs.

Every floor upwards was searched with you lingering in front of the beds you had designed. Both sets of bunk beds brought to life to perfection the both of you tested the steps on alongside your dad for a third heftier body proving your plan did truly work before Lee trotted down the steps to his floor he absolutely loved mentally settling colors and layout of his furniture. Then he broke out of that to come back up with you to start opening the windows on the main floor beginning to lay out the tarps ignoring the people taking pictures of you and the guys.

The guys worked rollers up and down the walls. You focused on taping and edging the molding before climbing on the highest ladder you sat on the top rung with a long handled brush to mark along the top of the ceiling that your dad scooted around the room to help you finish the whole room. The front rooms were first up and working your ways back having skipped the wall going up the stairs you managed to finish off half the floor stopping for a lunch on the patio off the sunroom enjoying the sun and fresh air until the primer called again. The second half was easier with the kitchen being mostly tile and cupboards coating the walls except for strips along the top. Even without paint the room had you giddy to see an actual kitchen coming together. And with the back windows cracked you locked the front ones and closed the shutters again to head back to your apartment for pizza dinner.

Partway done with the second floor through the open windows you heard and upon moving to them the moving truck was viewed. Down you hurried to welcome the crew that unloaded the main furniture into the center of the living room before helping to get the mattress up to the top floor into your bedroom. The crew carried the barely used mattress from Canada to be broken in over the years for your bedroom. With yours from the NY apartment set to be settled in the third floor while your dad would be glad to take the set of mattresses from the half bedroom to stretch out on top of the bed platform kit he had bought and had been building to keep them together.

Lee’s things were easier with his boxes settled around the furniture he’d move to his preference later to help you get back to finishing the second floor. Lee got called to an audition the third day but still you and your dad kept on working and somehow finishing by lunch without having to juggle that third person. The spare time gave you plenty of time to work in your apartment at night to get up to that peak limber state you liked to be in that your nerves had told you that you weren’t in even after having spent nights reverting to your ballet stretches and elastic band exercises in the last months of the show.

Pt 43

#Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Lee Pace x Reader OC #In Canada #Finish Filming #Back to New York #Progress Reports #Painting Now #Remodeling the Brownstone

8 notes · View notes