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purple-plum-petals · 4 months

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⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail) Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions… Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending. Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship Word Count: ~2500 words Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also… let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

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You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.

Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.

Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say… which is why you were as worried as you were lately.

Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.

Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, “Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–…”

Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “…I wanna break up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W… What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”

“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.

Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “…is good fer you.”

Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”

Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”

He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”

“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I… Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”

Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just…”

He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”

The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”

Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”

Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you… I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family…” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”

Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”

You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”

Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–…”

“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”

“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”

“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”

“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but…” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”

Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together…” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”

Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I… I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just…” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad… I want to be beside you throughout it all.”

“Heh, well… I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “…Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”

“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.

He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”

“I won’t, I won’t…” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya… I love ya so fudgin’ much.”

“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”

“Well… I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry… Can I, darlin’?”

The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”

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descendantsramblings · 1 month

Note

Morgie x GN! Reader where Reader and Morgie get paired up for an Assignment, Reader dislikes him while Morgie is just a pure little Goldenretriever who likes them and tries to Win them over

Win You Over

Morgie le Fay x Reader

Pronouns used : they/them/theirs

I wrote part of this at work this morning and the other half while watching a Spencer Agnew compilation, I hope that's fun for y'all.

Summary: Curse the professor of Magical History for not letting them choose their own partners, now they're stuck with an overly agreeable villain.

Warnings: Reader is actually kinda mean to Morgie, Hook teasing the reader and Morgie, that's about it though. Somehow the reader is giving me Edwin from dbda vibes but that could just be me

Word Count: 2.3K

Also,,,Until this gif I had no clue he had that tattoo, have y’all known about this??

Magical History is their favorite class. They genuinely loved learning about the past, especially in connection to enchantments and curses. The process of creating magical objects had them entranced, the history behind the things they passed every day excited them. Their best friend sat right beside them quietly passing them notes, the teacher genuinely liked them, they always made As on their work. It was a no-brainer, of course the class is their favorite, or at least Magic History was (Y/n)’s favorite class.

“Alright, alright. As you may see from the names on your desks, you have been given new assigned seats, this will be your assigned partner for this week’s project. Don’t you worry, after this assignment you will return to your old seats,” Mr. Cranston, a pompous and ever flustered man announces to the class as he wanders around his room. Waving his hands about as he speaks, “Of course this is the final project you lot will have until your final examination so it seems your seats shouldn’t matter much. I know how you kids are though, so fussy.” (Y/n) wanders the room as he speaks, their fingertips dragging lightly over different shiny desk tops as they look for their name, finding it in the dead center of the room. So their desk hadn’t been changed, perhaps the man knew how good it would be to leave their partnership together. Fay and (Y/n) always did such great work, no point in breaking them up, was there? From the corner of their distracted eye, they could see “Fay” written on the desk in his lazy scrawl, calming that little anxious voice that ate at the back of their mind. This would be fine, they were sure of it. They had the perfect partner for this last project, it would be an easy A and they would round out the class with a perfect score. It was all truly simple when you could look at it that way.

Busying themself with setting out their supplies, (Y/n) barely noticed as a black leather messenger bag fell beside their feet with a hearty thud. Eyes flashing over to the bag and cascading up the long, toned legs it belonged to. “Oh,” they straighten up, looking at the boy with wide eyes, “I’m sorry Fay is sitting there. I’m sure your seat is somewhere nearby.” They tap the lettering beside their own name matter-of-factly as they speak, smiling up at him in a way that was nearly cocky. He lets out a laugh that they’re pretty sure would count more so as a giggle, “No uh, I see the mistake. It’s my seat, ‘Morgie le Fay’ not just ‘Fay’, spelt the same I know.” He slides into the chair, smiling over at them in a way that wasn’t quite friendly but in no way was villainous. “Guess you’re stuck with me.” Their eyes drink in the boy, with his French tucked shirt and overly gelled hair, a mischievous air hanging around him. If he wasn’t friends with his little group there would be something almost intriguing about him, nearly charming, and they knew that. Didn’t mean he was intriguing to them now though, eyes rolling as they turn away, arms crossed over their chest, “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

His brows furrow, looking over the person sat beside him with a slight pout to his lips, “No I uh, I think you are. He said our seat partner was our project partner. You’re stuck with me. It’s an assigned thing.” They shake their head, eyes glued on the board in front of them as the bell rings, waving him off with their left hand as their right hand clicks their pen half-mindedly. The repeated noise makes an obnoxious pattern that has him nearly on edge. Looking for anything to make them stop, something to calm them in any way. “It’s not like it’s a bad thing, I’m great to be around, we’ll have fun. I’ve been told I make a great lackey, you can think of me that way if it helps.” And they hush him, genuinely hush him. Finger to their lips and all, as if he was a toddler or a yapping dog. Wasn’t he supposed to be the mean one? This was going to be a long week, Morgie was sure of that.

Class seemed to drag on after that. He couldn’t help himself but to cut eyes over to the student beside him, taking in everything his sight alone could manage to learn. His little glances were met with side eyes rude enough to rival Hook and Maleficent. What was their deal with him? Had Morgie been rude? He didn’t think he was, in fact he thought himself to be quite cheeky in his introduction to them. So what made them such an exposed wire? Perhaps he scared them? Their walls were simply up to evade letting him hurt them. Or do they take time to warm up to people? A test for him maybe? As a villain kid he had to win them over to like them, earn his spot as someone a royal could like. Morgie could do that, he was sure he could do that. Everyone liked him eventually, he could make (Y/n) like him. It wouldn’t be that hard.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

He doesn’t think he’s ever been to the Merlin Academy library. It was a nice room though, quiet with the faint smell of old books and oak filling the air around him. Warm, the room was so warm, he was shedding his jacket as he looked around, eyes landing on his project partner. (Y/n) was tucked into a corner in the back of the room, their back to him. For him to sit with them, he’d be hidden in a corner where no one could see him from the front door. His partner was planning to hide him, wonderful news. With less pep in his step than when the sorcerer arrived, Morgie makes his way over to the table, eyeing their stack of books as he gets closer. Eight books in a stack, sitting by their elbow as they flip through their notes. It was a studious display, extremely nerdy but in a way respectable. “Hey, sorry if I’m a little late,” he gives them a nervous smile as he slides into the chair they reserved for him. They let out a dissatisfied hum, barely sparing him a glance from their notes, “Get held up harassing some poor princess? Was her dress too pretty, needed some mucking up?” He frowns, playing with his hands, “No actually I got lost. I’ve never actually been to the library here, just the one back home.”

They look up now, placing their notes to the side of them. “You go to your library back home?” It was like they couldn’t believe that he read. Did they think he didn’t know how to read? “You,” he lets out a nervous laugh, reaching over to grab one of the books from their stack, “You do know I can read, right? Like, I am literate.” They roll their eyes, looking over at him with a blank face, “Yes I know you’re literate Morgie. I just didn’t think that you would be the type to read for fun. What are they, evil spell books?” He looks over the book in front of him, “Cursed Objects and Their Origins” written across the deep purple cover in looping silver letters. Was that really how they viewed him? He guesses he signed up for that when he started hanging out with Uliana. “No, actually I read a lot of mystery novels, or those little young adult romance novels where they hate each other at the start. They’re uh,” he traces the letters with his pointer finger, “A good distraction.” A sudden softness crosses over their face, looking back down at their notes as if trying to hide it. “I decided we’d do our trifold on cursed objects, it seemed like something you’d be into.”

He wasn’t, Morgie would’ve loved to do enchanted flora and fauna. He loved the outdoors, it was another way that he could get away from his own chaos. But they had done so much work to get the cursed object books, who would he be to tell them he wanted to do something else? “If that’s what you want to do, yeah, we can do cursed objects. It wasn’t what I was thinking but you did so much work already, so yeah. Let’s do cursed objects.” They look up at him, eyes flickering between both of his as if they were looking for something. An apologetic smile seems to find their face as they lean back, “No, I just assumed you’d want to do that. I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair of me, what were you thinking? I want this to be something we both want to do.”

They can feel their chest warm as his face lights up, sliding the book away from him as he leans forward. “I was thinking we could do enchanted flora and fauna. Things like the enchanted lake and Idun’s golden apples. Things that held power in nature, I’ve always had a thing for that type of stuff.” They must have been staring at him because the boy shrinks down, “But if you hate that idea, there’s no need to do it. I know this class means a lot to you and I don’t want to affect that.” (Y/n)’s brows furrow, how would he know that? They weren’t friends, they’d never actually spoken before that morning. Of course they’d interacted but it was more so just him watching as they dealt with his ragtag crew of friends. Morgie hasn’t interacted with them before, why hadn’t he? “How do you know that?” His face flushes red, looking down at his hands, “You uh, you always know the answers in that class. And you help other students with their work, you tutor people in it. (Y/n), you have the highest grade in our class, everyone knows that.” They bite their lip, looking at their lap with what he thinks is the ghost of a smile threatening their face. “I didn’t think you paid attention like that.” He chuckles, standing up to start putting the cursed object books back, “Yeah, you don’t really know me, do you?” “I guess I don’t.” He motions over to the stack of books in front of them, “Pass me those, I’ll go put them up and then maybe we can look together for the ones we actually need together? Unless you don’t want to be seen with me.” The tone at the end is teasing, taking a book from their hands with a smile. “No, I,” they stop, shaking their head, “Why would you think that?” He lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes, “Come on, (Y/n), I can tell you don’t like me. Don’t worry though, I’ll win you over eventually.”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Morgie’s dorm was cozy, they had to admit that, sitting at his desk with him leaning over them. Refusing to just pull up a chair so he could “see better” as they arranged their project across the trifold. “No the golden apple needs to be the centerfold,” He breathes, reaching over them to swap it with a picture of the enchanted lake. Mumbling something about how the story of Norse gods was more important than some stupid fable about some water. (Y/n) and Morgie were so close they could smell him, as if he was wrapped all around him. The boy wearing some sort of spicy cologne that they hated to admit was intoxicating, with a hint of something floral under it. His soap maybe? They couldn’t be quite sure, all they knew is they were shifting underneath him, trying to get away from the boy’s warmth so he wouldn’t notice the affect he was having on them. They were not meant to be so close, (Y/n) didn’t want to be this close. And yet, something about the comfortability made it impossible for them to ask the boy to move.

“The Enchanted Lake is the closest one to us, it should be in the center.” “It being the closest enchanted item to us doesn’t make it the most important, (Y/n). The story of the golden apple is the most interesting and it's the most attractive to look at. Look at how pretty centering it made our poster,” his hand softly tilts their head to look down at the project. And he’s right, that was the missing piece that the two of them had poured over for the past two hours, it looked perfect now. “Morgie le Fay, I could kiss you right now,” they breathe, reaching over to grab a glue stick from the pencil bag that rests open on the desk. His breath hitches, making them giggle slightly. He opens his mouth to say something, and the royal in his desk chair looks up to him, waiting patiently for whatever he has to say.

“Well isn’t this cozy? If I knew you had a date tonight I wouldn’t have come home, Morgie.” Hook’s voice snaps both of their heads over to the pirate in the doorway. He stands smirking, arms crossed as he leans against the frame. “Would you like me to go? I know this little date is basically one of your silly little novels come to life, I can give you space.” (Y/n) looks down at their lap, lips pursed as they play with their fingers. “You’re not funny, Hook,” he scoffs though there’s a playful air to it. “Oh but I am,” he teases, looking over at the royal in the chair, “So, (Y/n), did he win you over yet?” It was gentle, playful even in a way they’re positive Uliana would hate. They look up at him with a smile, meeting hopeful, hazel eyes. “He’s on the way to it, if he gets me an A on this project he might be in my good graces.” It was a lie of course, he was a hard person to hate, even if they refused to admit it. Mr. Cranston had done something right putting them together they supposed, this little friendship with Morgie was truly worth it.

#descendants #descendants imagines #descendants rise of red #descendants fanfiction #descendants x reader #morgie x reader #morgie le fay #morgie le fay x reader

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leviathans-body-pillow · 1 year

Text

“But what about my kitten!?”

The new exchanged student asked looking anxiously at Lucifer.

“As I said we have made arrangements for all your human world responsibilities.” He answered, not quite sure what part of they made arrangements you didn’t understand.

“No you don’t understand! They’re only a few weeks old! I’m like their parent and litter in one, we can’t be apart right now!” You try to plead your case. If you have to spend a year in hell fine whatever but you refuse to do it without your kitten.

“I’m afraid we’re not able to accommodate a cat, surly it will be fine in foster care until you return.” Lucifer didn’t like the way you looked at him, it was just a cat. It’s not like they asked you to leave behind your human child.

“But they’ve already been abandoned once,” you start to choke up. “They’re gonna think I abandoned them too.” Now you’re crying. The human exchange student has been in Devildom for less than five minutes and they’re already crying.

Diavolo speaks up, “surely there’s room at the house of lamentation for one little kitten.” He doesn’t wait to Lucifer to object before he continues. “We’ll make the arrangements for you kitten to be brought with the rest of your personal items.”

“Promise,” you ask between sniffs, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“You have my word as prince.” He assured you.

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

How the brothers react

Lucifer

He’s not pleased. It’s not that he has anything against cats. He’s just not mentally prepared for the chaos having one in the house will cause. Surely his brothers will find a way to make it his problem. He’s not sure how yet but he’s got a bad feeling. He’s not quite sure what it takes to care for such a young kitten. Truly he’s impressed by how responsible and nurturing you are for it. Although he is worried about it getting in the way of your lessons. Or his brothers getting in the way constantly bothering you to spend time with your cat.

Mammon

Our first cat person. He already spends a lot of time hanging around you being your first and all. But now he has even more reason to spend time in your room. He loves playing with them so you can study. May buy too many cat toys for them. Will definitely act like you two are a couple and your kitten is your child. If you ever argue or try to kick him out of your room he’ll pick them up and say shit like “but think of our baby” in the end he spoils them and become just as attached to your cat as he is too you

Leviathan

What shut in anime nerd doesn’t like cats? You kitten definitely helps Levi warm up to you. It’s not that he wants to spend time with a normie like you but he does want to see you kitten. He actually becomes essential in taking care of them when you first arrive. Kittens that small can’t be left alone all day. Thankfully Levi takes a lot of classes online and is able to watch them throughout the day. He still keeps them in your room, he can’t have them trying to jump on his shelves and knock down his precious collection.

Satan

He could barely contain his excitement at how it worked out. If Diavolo hadn’t spoken for Lucifer he would have. Even if it took a legendary tantrum, he was not going to pass up on the opportunity to have an little kitten living at hol. This leads to you and Satan becoming close very quickly. He’s pretty much always in your room. At first just for your kitten but this eventually lead to him wanting to be with you as well. It gets to the point Lucifer has to come pull him away so he’s not getting in the way of your studies.

Asmodeus

Asmo’s not really a cat person. But he can’t deny that your little kitten is adorable! He snaps hundred of photos snd videos of them of his devilgram story. Will try to steal them away to use as a prop. You have day by day documentation of them growing from how often Asmo photographs them. Unlike his older brothers he doesn’t stick around very long, getting bored of your kitten as soon as their attention wonders away from him. But his visits are still fairly frequent.

Beelzebub

He tries to eat them. They’re just so tiny and bite sized. At least he didn’t want to eat your kitten anymore than he wanted to eat you at first. Even after he gets over his initial hunger he’s not any quicker to warm up to you. He’s just not a cat person so he doesn’t go out of his way to hang around.

Belphegor

After the whole incident, he’s disappointed he missed out of seeing the kitten when it first arrived. By the time he’s free your kitten is already a few months old and very energetic. He’s not a huge fan of them when they’re running around bouncing off the walls. But he does adore when they finally burn out and want to cuddle. Loves taking little cat naps with them but isn’t too thrilled when they jump on him or swat at him in his sleep.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #om swd #obey me headcanons #obey me writing #om asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me swd #obey me luficer #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

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armins-main-hoe · 1 year

Note

HI HELLO!!! I would like 2 request some haikyuu! Manager fluffy headcanons please??? Some of the fem! reader being chubby and popular, it can be either platonic or romantic! I also love your writing ✍️ have a good day/night 💗💗

Hello! That is honestly such a cute request and I have a few ideas for it hehehe

I’m going to do this for Karasuno and Nekoma, if you would like other teams, send in a request again saying which ones you want.

(For those who have sent in requests, don't worry, I'm getting round to writing them all up)

“Nah, I think she’s perfect the way she is”

Karasuno

In all honesty, you were really into music and you wanted to sign up for a music club, so when you found yourself standing in the gym, you couldn’t have felt any more out of place.

It seems there was a bit of a mix up with the sign up sheets and you ended up becoming the manager for the boy’s volleyball team.

You don’t know shit about volleyball.

You talked with the teachers and they said it may take some time for them to go through the sign up sheets and find an empty spot in the music club for you to switch into.

So for now, it seems like you're stuck being the boy's volleyball manager.

On your first day, you were very confused about what exactly you should be doing. I mean the team already has a coach and an qualified teacher with them, what can a student manager do?

So you just sat around, watching the boys practice while the coach yells at them. You weren't going to lie, you got a little bored...

Next few days, you would do the same thing, you even used the time to get homework done, since you thought you'd rather do something than do nothing.

You won't lie to yourself, you weren't popular, or that's what you thought, just known by everyone because of how you looked. You knew you weighed more than the other girls in your class, it didn't bother you all that much and you did always try to see the better side of things.

But that doesn't mean that everyone else thought the same.

You were eating lunch with your friends in the school courtyard when a student walking by with his friends yelled out names at you like "piggy", "diabeto" and "fat cow". You didn't really take words like that to heart, they never were all that creative with the name calling.

However, before you or your friends could say anything, a boy from the volleyball team (you pick who) came and stood up for you.

You watched as he stood in front of you and started yelling back at the boy who was name calling you. "I think she's perfect the way she is!"

As you watched him, you couldn't help but wonder "had he always been this good looking? I hadn't noticed before...."

Funny how now you suddenly feel motivated to actually look into volleyball.

So next time there was a practice, you came prepared. You did your research, you learned the basic rules of volleyball and asked other sport manager's what they do.

The boys were surprised to see you suddenly interested since you usually sat in a corner dong homework.

"The teachers are taking forever with sorting the mess up, I didn't think I'd actually be here for here for this long. But since I am, I might as well help out." You shrugged when they questioned it. It wasn't a lie completely but it wasn't the only reason.

You glanced over to the boy who stood up for you the other day before quickly looking away again, he was smiling at you.

As the weeks passed, you began to pick up more and more about volleyball. It wasn't long before you memorized the positions and each player's weakness and strength.

The other boys were quick to notice your little crush and thought that it was probably why you decided to stick around, but later they began to feel like you genuinely enjoying being manager as well. You weren't a bad manager either, you helped everyone equally and the team as a whole.

Nishinoya was little shit though, you were kind and nice to everyone but with him, you're patience wore down thin.

You did get an offer to change clubs and go do the music club you wanted, you thought of going to both volleyball and music but the timings clashed often so you had no choice but to pick.

Volleyball or music?

Oh well, you can practice music at home and the weekends, it's not like you can see your crush at home or the weekends, right?

You kinda knew making decisions based off of a boy wasn't really good for you but even if you wouldn't admit it, you kinda liked playing manager.

You actually found it fun.

When you told the boys that you were staying as their manager, you were taken back by their cheer.

"We were worried that you'd leave us when you get the chance to join the music cub" Hinata said.

"Sure, we didn't get off too well in the beginning but we like having you around now" Suga smiled at you.

The others nodded their head and in that moment, you felt immense happiness wash over you, your face felt a little hot from the praise and you felt a little embarrassed.

"Thanks guys, I promise to get better at being a manager too. I still have a lot to learn."

At the end of practice, you were helping clean up along with your not so secret crush.

"You know Y/N, I hope you don't mind what the others say about you."

You look at him. "Say what?"

"About your looks. It doesn't matter what a person looks like as long as they are happy and healthy." He says, looking at you with a sincere expression.

"Oh that, don't worry, I'm basically immune to those childish name callings, but thank you anyway for looking out for me" You smiled at him.

As you both continued to talk, you didn't see the rest of the boys spying on you both through the windows, silently cheering you and your crush on. They all are VERY supportive of you both, even though they all suck ass at being cupid.

Nekoma

No one and I mean no one has ever thought of bad mouthing you.

You quite literally were the sweetest girl in the whole school, always having pure intentions. No one could ever hate you, you got along with everyone.

You heard the volleyball club was looking for a manager for a while now with no luck so you decided to give it a go.

"hello I'm-"

"Y/N!" A few of them called out, running over to you. You recognised nearly all of the members, you had spoken to them at some point during your time as school, even the ones that were not in your year. You knew the basics of volleyball since the school sometimes made you do that in your Physical Education class.

Yamamoto was all over the place, he could basically explode with how much joy he felt. His team finally got a manager. He was so going to boast about it to his friends outside of school.

What amazed you was how seriously the boys took the sport, you weren't all that much into sports or anything really, you struggled to find something to actually be that passionate about that could lead into a future career.

So you weren't able to understand but respected their dedication and efforts nonetheless.

You were really good and hyping the boys up and giving them motivation when they needed it, some of them became very fond of you.

Kenma would sometimes try to hide behind you whenever Kuroo would be scolding him, you would give kuroo a sweet smile and lie to his face saying "I haven't seen Kenma all day!"

Whenever lev would to the same, it wouldn't work out the same but you found it enduring still. You would let out a laugh before acting like insanely tall guy was actually able to hide perfectly behind you.

Yaku would often tut at you for playing along, saying that lev needs to learn but you keep taking the seriousness out of it.

"But he has gotten better though, hasn't he?" you would say back.

"Not enough!" yaku would reply back before huffing away.

Though despite you being all smiles and sunshines most of the time, you did have moments where you would get a bit serious.

During tournaments specifically, the boys were good, really good even but so were other teams.

When you get nervous you would become quite and have a serious frown on your face.

Kinda scared the boys a bit ngl-

lev would laugh tho.

Maybe kuroo too.

They find it cute more than scary okay?

You would give them a pep talk before their very first game, promising to buy them all ice cream if they come first place.

Though no one at your school has ever badmouthed you, that doesn't mean people from other schools wouldn't.

Since you were on the chubby side, you were prone to some bullying when you were younger, though in middle school it died down a lot. The boys never saw you differently because of your weight though, you were sweet and a really good manager to them so why wouldn't they adore you?

So when they would overhear people from other schools making fun of you just because of something as little as your weight, they didn't take it that lightly.

They would only stop yelling threats and curse words when their next match is about to start or the "bad mouther" runs away. Kuroo once nearly got a bit physical too.

You would then tell them to ignore that when it happens since there is not use wasting breath over people like that, it's not like you take what they say to heart anyway... well most of the time anyway.

But like always. the team refused to ever ignore anyone making fun of you.

It's almost like you have a bunch of protective brothers, they sometimes tease you but no one else can.

I do hope you like it! Let me know if you want more :)

#haikyuu manager #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haiykuu #haikyuu #nekoma manager #nekoma x reader #nekoma #karasuno x reader #karasuno headcanons #karasuno manager

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quin-ns · 1 year

Note

hey ! may i request some fluff with ethan landry where he thinks she’s asleep so he whispers i love you to her but she was actually awake? (can either be established relationship or not) you can decide how she reacts :))

im so glad i found your blog because you write for many of the things that i like and it honestly felt like i hit jackpot seeing your masterlist. feel free to turn down this request/change it up !!hope u are having a good day/night <3

aw well I’m happy you found me! 🫶

writing this as a quick drabble/ficlet bc I like the idea but can’t think of a whole fic lol- enjoy!

Whispers (Ethan Landry x Reader)

You weren’t going to the party at first, but all of your friends were going and you didn’t wanna feel left out.

Getting drunk wasn’t exactly the plan either. However, you were already getting your ass kicked by classes and you wanted to let loose.

Your friends encouraged you as they did the same, all of you keeping an eye on each other.

Except, you got a bit too far ahead and ended up having to leave your friends Tara and Mindy behind on the dance floor (aka, the frat house living room floor). You ended up on a couch nearby and closed your eyes, trying to zone out and not focus on the headache-inducing music.

Did it have to be so loud?

You felt someone sit down next to you and you heard a familiar voice ask you a question.

“You alright?”

You didn’t have to look to know it was your friend Ethan. You could tell his voice anywhere, the two of you were pretty close. You and Ethan liked a lot of the same stuff and it was easy to talk to him about pretty much anything.

You met him a while ago and coincidentally, his roommate was the brother to your friend Mindy. You all ended up hanging out in a group after realizing that.

“A little too drunk,” you admitted, your head lolling to the side. You opened yours eyes and found him watching you curiously. “And very tired.”

“If you’re tired I can walk you back to your place.”

You made a noise of disapproval.

“It’s so far off campus, I’d rather just sleep here.”

Sinking into the couch felt like a really good idea.

“My dorm isn’t that far,” Ethan suggested with a shy smile. “Chad won’t care and it’s a weekend so you don’t gotta worry about class.”

You did take him up on that offer.

“You’re so sweet,” you told him as the two of you entered his apartment. You laughed to yourself, feeling quite lightheaded. “And cute.”

Ethan smiled at that. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, but it’s a secret, so shhh,” you told him. You had a pretty huge crush on him, but you’d tried to keep it under wraps in order to maintain your friendship. But your words were coming out before you could stop them.

God, you were tired.

“Well, you’re pretty cute too,” Ethan said, then quickly changed topics when you didn’t respond right away. “You can take my bed, I’ll crash in the chair.”

He pointed towards a sad little beat up recliner.

You snorted. “No way, we can share.”

Ethan and Chad didn’t have bunk beds, so it was easy to kick off your shoes and climb into his bed. Another day you might’ve been more graceful, but it looked so comfortable and you couldn’t resist. Ethan did the same, not even changing into pajamas.

The two of you laid side by side and you tried to bite back a smile at the thought of being in bed with Ethan.

You rolled to the side, facing the wall, and closed your eyes. You were insanely exhausted and drunk, and really, really wanted to sleep.

“Goodnight, Ethan,” you mumbled to him. “And thanks for this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he responded. There was a moment of silence where you thought he was going to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he just said, “Goodnight.”

You started to drift off to sleep, getting comfortable. Maybe ten minutes passed and you should’ve been asleep, but you weren’t.

“Are you awake?” Ethan asked softly.

You were right on the edge of falling asleep finally and you knew if you started talking, that would never happen. Whatever he had to say, you two could talk about it tomorrow.

“I guess you are asleep… and now I’m just talking to myself.” Ethan laughed a little and you tried not to smile. “That’s okay, you need sleep. I just wanted to say… I’m glad you trust me and that I can be here for you. I like being your friend, and I—I like you, y’know?”

It was quiet for a long moment. Your breathing remained steady and you thought maybe he’d closed his eyes and drifted off.

Instead, he rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm over your body.

“I really like you, actually. Like I lot… as more than just a friend,” Ethan continued in a whisper. You could feel his heart racing against your back and you tried to not let on that you were awake. “Maybe even love you, but that’s crazy, right? We’re not even dating and I think I’m in love with you…

You really wanted to open your eyes, but you didn’t want to embarrass him. He’d just poured his heart out, it didn’t seem like the right move to surprise him.

“I’ll tell you for real someday, if I can ever get the courage to ask you out.”

You hoped that was a promise that Ethan could keep. You liked him too—a lot—and hopefully that day he’d ask you out would come soon. You really wanted to see how things would go because you had a feeling that you could be in love him too.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream #quin-ns writing #request #ficlet #asks

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circus4apsycho8 · 1 year

Note

Getting brain rot from this shit rn. Ok so basically it’s Lloyd x reader with Both povs: reader is absolutely SMITTEN with Lloyd. I’m talking like staring at him with heart eyes in math class type shit. Unfortunately, he is not aware she even exits. HOWEVER, she does have a collection of love letters addressed to him, that she has not sent due to embarrassment. Her friends find out about it, and however do not approve of Lloyd, are like “whatever makes you happy” and urge her to start putting them in his locker, one/ a day as his secret admirer. Lloyd gets them, but is skeptical at first, because he thinks it’s just another form of bullying/public embarrassment. After a few days of getting them though, he shows the rest of the gang to see what they think. They are *very supportive* of him, and encourage him to find out who it is. And after a while of running around with no lead, he finds reader at lunch, writing one of those beloved pink letters. You can go from there!

Fem reader, school au thingy

Reader is described as smart, flustered easily, basically an awkward Highschool kid

TYSM FOR WRITING THIS

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚑𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊; 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

secret someone. | lloyd x reader

This isn’t like you at all.

A quiet sigh escapes you as your fingers fidget with your pen, desperately trying to tune into the lecture. It isn’t exactly difficult material; you understand it quite well. It’s just the fact that the teacher only teaches using a monotonous PowerPoint, voice droning on and on and on. In short, your goblin brain has been focused on something else entirely. Something with far more visual appeal:

Lloyd Garmadon.

Yes, the blond-haired, emerald-eyed son of an Oni warlord had become the subject of your schoolgirl infatuation as of late. For a few weeks now – almost a month – you've had him on your mind. You’re not entirely sure what triggered it, but you’d caught yourself staring at him one day. It all got worse from there.

Hell, you haven’t even really talked to him. Sure, he’s in a few of your classes, but you never were able to build up the courage to actually initiate conversation. Something about him was warmly inviting but also deeply intimidating, and you can’t quite put your finger on what that could be.

It could be the rumors – whispers shared in the hallway while the “Garmadork Squad” passed, about how Lloyd would eventually share the same fate as his father and drag his friends down with him. But you highly doubt that. From what you’ve seen of him, he’s super sweet to others no matter how badly they may treat him. You’d always found that admirable considering how the majority of the school is against him.

You’re snapped out of your haze when the bell rings, relief coursing through you. Thank the stars it’s the end of the day. You quickly gather all of your belongings before stuffing everything into your backpack, hauling it up on your desk so that you can zip it up. With that, you’re ready to go.

…

“Hey! Sorry I’m late!” you yell, spying all of your friends already seated at the café. “You know how busy the school gets when it lets out.”

“No worries,” one of them replies as you set your backpack on one of the empty chairs. You unzip it, grabbing your wallet before going to order a drink.

While you’re waiting for it to be made, you hear a little bit of commotion at your table.

You turn to see two of your friends crowded around the table, both looking down at something. Not thinking anything of it, you turn back around, idly scrolling through your phone as you wait.

Once the barista hands it over to you, you thank her. Then, you make your way back to your table.

Upon arriving, you find two of your friends fussing over a mess made on the floor.

“What happened?” you question, peering through them.

“I tripped and knocked some of our stuff over,” the first one replies, kneeling down to clean up the mess.

Your heart skips a beat when you realize that some of the contents of your bag have spilled, including one of your personal binders.

“Wait!” you squeak, pushing past them to gather all of the pink papers up. You shove them back into the binder, a blush adorning your cheeks as you pray none of them got the chance to read one.

To your dismay, though, one of your friends has already grabbed one, eyes scanning over the contents.

“Hey!” you say a little louder than you meant. “That’s...um...”

“What is it?” another girl questions.

“Aww...sorry, I didn’t realize this was so personal. Curiosity just kinda took over, I guess,” replies the girl that had been reading your letter. You grab it back from her, sighing heavily as you try not to be embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” you mumble, re-packing your bag and making sure it’s completely zipped. “Did...anyone else see it?”

“I kind of...told them. I’m sorry.”

You groan. “I guess it would have come out at some point anyway.”

“So...Lloyd?”

You sigh, burying your face in your hands. You should have just left your letters at home. “Yeah.”

“But he’s-”

“Don’t say it. I know. I get it. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“Are you going to tell him?” another girl asks.

“I haven’t even talked to him yet! I just...think he’s cute,” you mumble. “It’s probably just a temporary thing anyway. Besides, not one of us has even talked to him! Don’t you think people treat him a little unfairly?”

“I guess you have a point,” she replies.

“Why don’t you just put those letters into his locker? Like, you could put one in there per day or something?” another friend suggests.

You take a sip of your drink, taking a moment to ponder the idea. Hm...

“Yeah, you could be his secret admirer! That’d be cute!” someone else adds.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, fidgeting nervously. “I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Come on! It’s worth a shot,” another encourages. “Just give it a try and see what happens!”

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt? You’re not sure. But maybe she’s right – it could be worth a try. And perhaps it would make you feel better in the process.

You nod. “Okay. I’ll put one in tomorrow, then.”

“You got this! Good luck!”

…

“Man, our math test is going to suck today,” Jay comments, groaning slightly.

“Wait, what test?” Kai questions, turning to face the redhead with a puzzled expression.

“You’re hopeless,” Nya comments, rolling her eyes as the group enters the school.

Lloyd chuckles, attempting to match the high energy of his teammates. He can’t really bring himself to join in on the banter, though. Instead, he finds himself nervous to face the day.

“Anyways, see you guys at lunch!” Nya yells, following Jay and Zane down one hall.

Kai pats Lloyd on the shoulder before he and Cole go to their lockers. “Later, sis.”

Lloyd approaches his locker, fingers going to spin the lock around until it pops open. He pulls the door open, getting out what he needs when a pop of color catches his eye.

“Huh?” Lloyd mutters, spotting a red envelope resting on top of his belongings. He definitely didn’t put that in there. Someone must have slipped it in.

He picks it up, reading the writing on the front.

Lloyd

“Probably another prank,” he mumbles, deciding to open it anyways.

Inside is a neatly folded piece of paper. It’s a vibrant shade of pink, with cutesy doodles lining the right side and a paragraph of unfamiliar handwriting on the left.

Dear Lloyd,

Hm…how do I start this? To be honest…I guess you can call me a secret admirer of yours? I hope I’m not coming off as creepy!! But I’m too nervous to actually come up and talk to you…

So, for now, I’ll write about my feelings in the form of these letters!

To make a long story short, I saw you standing underneath the sunlight about a month ago for the first time. And it just made me realize how handsome you are. You and sunshine go hand-in-hand; the way it casts your blond hair in a warm glow, complimenting your pretty green eyes…I wish I could see them up close. They’re such an encapsulating shade of green!

Anyways, I won’t ramble for too long. I hope you have a good weekend! ^_^

Sincerely,

Your Secret Someone! ♥

Lloyd stares at the letter for a few seconds before reading it again to ensure that he was reading it right.

No…there’s no way he’d have a “secret someone”. This has to be another cruel prank, right? Yeah, that’s it. The bullies are just trying to get to him. The thought of it potentially being real crosses his mind, but he quickly shakes the possibility off.

He sighs, stuffing the paper into his bag and getting the other items he needs before slamming his locker and zipping his bag. That’s a new low, even for the jerks.

Letter forgotten, he makes his way to class for the time being.

…

You make your way through the locker area to see if Lloyd has arrived. Sure enough, you spot him opening his locker. You grow more nervous by the minute. Would he be uncomfortable? Creeped out?

The anxiety has quite a chokehold on you, but at the very least you wanted to give it a shot. Soon enough, he starts reading it. Oh stars…

You slow down slightly, watching as his face contorts into something of a conflicted expression. Uh-oh, that doesn’t look good!

He shoves it in his bag before he leaves, not sparing the letter a second glance. You feel your heart drop slightly, making your way to class.

You pull your phone out, sending a quick text to your friend:

He didn’t seem happy about it

Idk he looks kind of conflicted??

You shut your phone off as you begin your walk to class, hoping you didn’t make him uncomfortable.

Relax, hes probably wary of stuff like that bc of the bullying

And he might be shy too? So keep trying. If hes still not into it after a while then you can stop

But I don’t think a few more will hurt

You sigh, reading through the message before replying:

Okay, fine...

…

Lloyd thought the letters were going to stop after that.

But he was wrong – they kept on coming. One after another, and he wasn’t sure how to feel. Would the bullies even go this far for a prank?

He sighs, tuning out his teacher, who’s rambling on about something boring. Once more, he reads the latest letter:

Dear Lloyd,

I’ve seen the way that people treat you around here. I don’t think it’s fair at all. And despite their treatment towards you, you still are kind to them. I think that’s admirable.

People shouldn’t treat you differently because of your bloodline. I wish there was more that I could do to help, but almost everyone is in on it. I’m sorry I can’t do more about it.

I think you’re inspiring. Despite being subjected to their negativity, you still face them with a smile.

You’re so strong. I like that about you too. Don’t let them get you down.

Sincerely,

Your Secret Someone! ♥

Lloyd pushes the paper to the side, wishing his stupid blush would go away. At this point, he’s not sure of what he should do. Part of him remains hopeful that maybe, for once, someone outside of his friend group is behind this. And, even better, doing it with genuine intention.

The question lingers on his mind until lunch, where he finds himself squished between Kai and Cole at the group’s usual table.

“What’s on your mind, greenie? You’ve been pretty contemplative today,” Cole questions as he destroys an unsuspecting bottle of chocolate milk.

“Uh…” Lloyd trails off, debating on whether he should tell them. But then again…what else would he do? “It’s just…I’ve been getting these letters in my locker every day for almost two weeks now. And I don’t really know how to feel...”

He shuffles through his bag before pulling the stack of letters out. Kai immediately snatches them, shuffling through the pile and reading them.

“Damn, Lloyd. Looks like you have a secret admirer!” Kai notes, chuckling.

“Awww!” Nya coos. Lloyd blushes, averting his gaze.

“But, don’t you think it could be some sort of trick? Or another prank?” Lloyd asks, watching as Kai hands the stack to Cole.

“You said this has been going on for two weeks, yes?” Zane questions.

“Yeah…”

Cole hands the stack to Zane, who immediately scans the papers discreetly. “I find the likelihood of this being a prank very low. This handwriting does not match any of the bullies.”

“How do you know that?” Kai wonders, staring at Zane with mild intrigue.

“Because of the papers they have thrown at us in the past,” replies the nindroid. “All handwriting that I come across is automatically stored in my memory.”

“Ah,” Kai mumbles. “Well, there you go, Lloyd. You should find out who it is!”

“But how?” Lloyd wonders as Kai hands the papers back. He stares down at the pink papers, taking a moment to trace the handwriting with the tips of his fingers. Who could it possibly be? He wouldn’t even know where to start...

“Well, when do the letters usually appear?” Nya questions.

“When I get to school, usually it’s already inside,” Lloyd admits, studying the pink papers curiously.

“Maybe we could try and arrive earlier?” Jay suggests. “That way, we can weed potential suspects out by seeing who gets here early.”

Cole nods in responds, shifting his focus to a helpless pudding cup. “That sounds doable.”

“Then let’s do it,” Kai encourages. “Let the hunt begin!”

…

Day after day, Lloyd and the others arrive earlier to school, but to no avail. Whoever is behind this is better than Lloyd initially suspected.

Even so, the group keeps their eyes peeled throughout the coming days. As the week ends, Lloyd finds himself losing hope despite his friends’ encouragement.

Friday approaches, with Lloyd tucking the latest letter in one of his notebooks before heading to lunch with Jay.

“Any luck?” Jay wonders.

“No,” Lloyd answers. “I’m starting to think this person is a ghost!”

“Aw, come on, greenie. You’ve got to have a little more faith! I’m sure we just missed something,” Jay responds.

“I don’t know, Jay,” Lloyd mumbles as the two enter the lunchroom. “Maybe we should-”

He’s interrupted by Nya rushing in front of him, yanking Lloyd by the bicep and pulling him towards the table.

“Nya?! What is it?” Lloyd wonders, eyes wide as Nya hushes him.

“Look over there,” she whispers, gesturing towards one of the nearby lunch tables. Lloyd frowns, narrowing his stare as he slowly turns around.

At first, nothing seems out of place. The area is just filled with a few tables of students milling about, eating lunch and chatting.

It’s then Lloyd notices one group of girls in particular, one of which is writing. Upon closer inspection, though, he finds that she’s writing on…

“Pink paper!” Lloyd exclaims quietly.

“And there’s a red envelope next to her too!” Nya adds, pulling both Jay and Lloyd to their usual table. “So it has to be her!”

“Isn’t she in some of your classes?” Jay questions as the three sit down with the rest of the group.

“Yeah, she is,” Lloyd says. Wow. It’s you? He never would have guessed…

He hadn’t really spoken to you, but from what he saw within the classroom, you tended to keep to yourself.

“Lloyd, did you see her?” Cole questions.

“Yeah, I did.”

“She’s in my science class, and she’s really smart,” Cole notes, as the group eats together.

“Pretty, too,” Kai adds. “So, what are you going to do?”

Lloyd thinks for a moment before coming up with an idea. “I know exactly what I’m going to do.”

…

You sigh, your worries beginning to get the best of you as you head towards your locker at the end of the day. Maybe you should just stop? You’re starting to feel a bit silly.

Momentarily you debate on texting your friends how you’re feeling, but decide to hold off. Well...you only have one letter left. Might as well finish them off before you make a decision.

As per usual, you slip the envelope into Lloyd’s locker for what you believe to be the last time. With that done, you go to your own locker in order to get what you need.

Sighing softly, you open your locker, about to exchange items when a flurry of motion captures your attention.

Your gaze drifts down to find a red envelope on the floor.

“What?” you mumble, frowning as you go to pick it up. Had you missed an old letter? That would make sense – perhaps one simply fell out of your binder?

But, when you flip it over, you find that the handwriting is not yours. Instead, your name is scrawled across the front in childishly messy handwriting.

Wait...no...this can’t...there’s no way...?

You anxiously gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you tear the envelope open, pulling out the pink piece of paper inside:

Following an addressal to you, it reads:

Well...it took me a while, but I finally figured out who you are. You’re pretty sneaky, you know that? I thought it would be simpler to find you.

But I figured it out at lunch yesterday – I happened to see you writing on a piece of pink paper when you were sitting with your friends. And...well, I was wondering how to answer all of the letters, and then I just thought: “Why not turn the tables?”.

First of all, I just want to say that, while I was a little skeptical at first (I thought that it might have been a prank), I really appreciate you taking the time to write these and put them into my locker every morning. These past few weeks have been tough – you know, bullying, plus tests and stuff – but your letters have helped me face the day. I started to look forward to them, all while wondering who you were...

...and now that I know, it’s made me realize that I want to get to know you.

We have a few classes together. I know you’re really smart and kind. And pretty. But I don’t know much else.

So, let’s change that.

Look behind you!

Sincerely,

Lloyd

Your eyes widen, cheeks burning as you swivel around to face none other than Lloyd himself.

You squeak, somewhat startled as you clutch the letter to your chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I, um...I didn’t mean to scare you,” he notes, rubbing the back of his neck as he averts his gaze.

“No, it’s o-okay!” you stutter. “I’m just...well, kind of flustered, I guess. I never thought that this would actually happen.”

“You certainly didn’t make it easy,” Lloyd jokes, chuckling as he rubs the back of his neck. “So...want to go get coffee sometime? I mean, only if you’re able! And, if you want to...”

“I would love to,” you mumble, smiling softly as your heart races.

“Can you come now? I know there’s a cafe nearby,” Lloyd invites.

“Sure! Just let me get my bag.”

With that, the two of you head towards the café together, not knowing that this is the start of something wonderful.

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚒'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗; 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘!

#ninjagoxreader #ninjago x reader #lloydxreader #lloyd garmadon x reader

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yanderederee · 1 year

Text

SickDay

April 24th, 2004

a/n: THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG PLEASE I DONT CARE IF ITS GOOD JUST TAKE IT PLEASE😩

before … › here! › next…

-almost direct continuation of I’m Rooting for You!-

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Midnight

After running away from the scene of the brawl yesterday night, you were a little nervous watching your back on the way home. Actually, it was kind of a long way from home.

Unfamiliar with the paths before you, you think to yourself if it’d be a good idea to wait for Baji or Chifuyu to walk you home. It might have been a good idea, but recalling the sequence of events just moments ago, you felt it may be too embarrassing to face them so soon.

Your face began to warm up, which was pleasant against the unsuspecting cold night that was tonight.

Remembering just a few minutes ago, you vividly recall Baji’s pitch black locks falling in frame around his face. You remembers how close you’d gotten to his lips. How you expressed your admiration on the way he fought.

Unable to stop yourself from reminiscing further, you daydreamed of his powerful punches sending his opponent flying feet away.

Couldn’t stop but recall all the similar warning gestures he’s since mirrored. Sticking up for you when spoke badly of you… pretending to be your boyfriend in public to keep flirtatious men away from you…

Baji was subject to protecting you no matter the circumstance.

The thought of being someone’s first priority almost brought tears to your eyes.

And suddenly, a sneeze ripped through your respiratory system.

Ah shit.

Luck really was not on your side tonight. It was dark out, really, dark out. The damn cold weather bit you into an unbearable chill, body already under a decent amount of stress with school starting up, mind being preoccupied with worrying about Baji, and realizing now, you’re damn lost.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

April25th,Morning

Toman won the fight that happened the night before, yet Baji felt none of the winners savory taste.

He was more concerned with how he would have to greet you when you came in for class.

Would you wave at him and ask him about how Sango spent her evening?

Or would you politely smile and ignore him, widening the space between you til nothing, not even relationship between Tutor and Student exist?

While there was no hope for it, a very small part of Baji was hopeful that maybe, just maybe, you would bring up the reason for the almost kiss you two shared.

It was bugging him all day.

That kiss— the almost kiss. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The warmth of your breath, how soft the palms of your hand felt against his cheeks.

—- the twinkle of excitement in your eye.

He remembered every little bit of that moment.

So, coming into class, he was unusually giddy. Even with bruising and other reckless cuts, Baji felt like he was glowing. Victorious after battle, about to show off the efforts of battle to the girl he literally can’t stop thinking about.

Even after coming in extra early to beat you to class, he was shocked to notice you never came in.

The bell rang, and the only seat of the classroom empty was yours.

His blood ran cold with the worst case scenario.

After the scene that happened last night, you were bound to be the face and talk of town.

He felt so fucking stupid.

He would come rushing to your protection without even the drop of a pen—faster than a pen could fall to the ground—would he have eliminated the dangers baring themselves at you.

But when you were out of sight?

How could he know? And now, with you gone from class, static rang loud in his ears.

In an attempt to remain diligent, he pushed the thoughts down. You were smart. You always proved yourself capable one way or another. Maybe you were just a little late? Everyone is human, after all.

First block passes,

then second.

There was no sight of you, and Baji couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m callin it early,” Baji grunted, very grumpy, gathered his bag. “Woah, wait a sec there, where’s the fire?” Ryusei asked.

Baji glared at him. “Don’t play dumb, I ain’t in the mood for your damn jokes today.”

Ryusei immediately slapped a hand over his mouth to hold back a laugh and any further comments.

“What’s wrong?” Chifuyu rose a brow, worried.

“None of your damn business!” Baji bit back, storming out of class during intermission.

“It’s cause his girlfriend isn’t in class,” Ryusei nudged Chifuyu, still confused.

“But yesterday, she had no idea what kind of life Baji was leading.. she’s bound to have questions.” Ryusei hummed. “Probably why she isn’t here right now. To give herself some time to process it all.”

“I guess’so.. is it a good idea for him to go see her then, though?” Chifuyu asked with nerves. “Leave them be,” Ryusei waved off, yawning. “The captain’s instinct are usually right on the nose, I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Your home was so quiet.

It was always so quiet.

No one was ever home, besides when it was inconvenient for you. So of course, whenever you became sick, they were never there.

When you woke up at 9am, to banging at your door, it’s abrupt and disorienting. God, why was it so bright?

That’s right. School. You’re not there, you realize. You don’t usually sleep in this late, so deeply.

“Just go away,” you groaned, realizing just how awful you feel. “Can’t do this right now.”

But the banging never stopped.

Begrudgingly, you groaned again and started your way to the front door. You didn’t get very far before a thick wave of dizziness hit you. You rammed your body right into the wall, legs supporting you only as best they could while your head spiraled in pain.

The banging never fucking stopped.

“Shut up!” You yelled, overwhelmed. And correctly, you were met with silence. You sighed, relieved. Once you had gathered your bearings, you pulled your feet forward and began for the front door again.

Face to chest, you’re met with a wall of person when you open the door. Too close, you thought before stepping back and looking up at none other than Baji Keisuke.

“Baji? Why aren’t you at school?” you scolded first, a little harshly. You’d forgotten all about your fever for a moment.

Yet he didn’t answer your question.

“I should be asking you that, dumbass.” He said as though he were relieved, if only for a moment.

You were safe, at home.

“You weren’t in class. You’re no good at taking care of yourself, got worried you didn’t make it home safe…’s all.” He shrugged, your vulnerability making him more honest. You chuckled, “I can take care of myself just fine,” closing your eyes for a few moments, a slim moment of peace, before suddenly you felt like air.

“H-hey!” Baji whistled when he caught you from stumbling to the floor. “What kind of joke is that?” Baji yelled at you, though it had small reminiscence of laughter.

Your head rolled around a few times before you could see straight. “Hey, focus. … at me… h-“ you heard him talk, but your head just wouldn’t stop spinning. Rolling, tumbling, your head throbbed.

Baji chose to bite his tongue and simply pull you up into his arms, looking around to realize the house was so still. So cold, with poor ventilation. He quickly makes yourself comfortable on the couch in the room over.

“Don’t try to get up, got that?” He asked you, attempting to gauge your awareness. You hummed, eyes lulling shut and open slowly. “Tired…” you mumbled, shivering toward him, the only heat among the dead wood around you.

It broke Baji’s heart, seeing you so cold, sick, sweaty, tired and overworked. “Stay there, I’m gonna grab some blankets, okay?” He asked once more. Softly, you open your eyes, blinking a few times before he could tell your vision came into focus.

Baji shrieked at the way you looked at him, So sad.

“Come back,” you said softly.

He had absolutely no idea what to do in that moment. Baji’s heart broke at just how bottomlessly sad your gaze was.

So void and lonely, you were finally being comforted at your weakest, by none other than Baji—hair wild and disheveled, sharp eyes making eye contact with you.

He had to be responsible, for your sake. As tempting as it would be to pull you in close and keep you warm directly, he knew the right thing to do now would be to engulf you in blankets, and medicate you.

Baji patted your hand before standing up. “Ain’t listening to the words of’a sick person. No more talking, get some rest.” He looked you over once more, “I’ll be back.”

Making swift work of your home, he searched the closets for spare bedding or blankets. Baji soon found what he was looking for. He took all that he could hold, which was at least four blankets worth, and hoisted them to the living room. The kotatsu blanket’s thickness helped make a good base for a pull-out-couch type of setting.

Keisuke looked over at you, asleep and shivering with only a throw blanket around your shoulders. “C’mere,” Baji caught your attention, trying to get you to get up. Wordlessly, you pull your arms up, motioning for him to lift you. How shameless, he chuckled.

You definitely didn’t have a filter at this point. He answered your silent plea by scooping one arm under your bent knees, and the other under your arms to lift you with ease.

Going to lay you down among the laid out bedding, he’s stuck, he realizes when you aren’t letting him go. “Y-y/n, hey,” Baji tried shaking you off, only to realize you weren’t interested in listening; glossy eyes were instead tracing his features, much to his embarrassment. “What?” He asked.

“Warm..” you mumbled, seemingly ready to drift back off to sleep at any moment.

Baji cleared his throat, attempting to pull you off him. “Hang tight, there’s plenty of bedding here to warm you up, so-“ he tried using rational reasoning, but you mearly groaned at such a notion.

Baji rolled his eyes at how childish you were acting, yet it brought a smile to his face all the same. “Yeah yeah, just stay here.” He said, finally managing to loosen your grip around him and tuck you into the plush below.

“You’re so pretty,” you whispered, clearly delirious. Oh boy, your honesty was killing him. Literally, he felt as though his heart was beating out from his chest. “What?” He asked again.

“It’s silly, I couldn’t stop thinking about just how pretty I thought you were up close, yet you were like a beast when you were fighting.” You laughed dully. “It just.. made me so happy, seeing you actually enjoy yourself like that.”

Baji’s heart fluttered at your words, taking all that he wanted say away from him. Silence broke through the house once more, and by the time Baji found the words he wanted to say, you were dead asleep. Didn’t take much.

Deciding to put the words in his back pocket for later examination, instead spending his time getting to work. While you were cooking in your own body heat under a mass of blankets, fighting off the cold, Keisuke racked his brain on what he could do.

First thing first, you needed medicine.

Right.

Where did you keep the medicine?

He felt no shame raking through the multiple medicine cabinets you (or rather, your parents) had, staking that there wasn’t anything worthy to hide anyway.

And while most would consider Keisuke a failure in the kitchen (he is), he did have the basic skill sets to make a (bland) miso soup, and rice. Warm broth for your throat, and something with substance to fill your stomach. Any strong flavors were sure to make you hurl, he made a half-added excuse for his poor culinary skills.

On a corner table nearby, Baji left a dose of medicine for you, as well as a cold glass of water. He had to make sure you were properly hydrated too. While the rice and soup were simmering, he made quick work to liven up the depressing living area. Opening up the Always closed curtains, he also cracked a window to let in little bits of fresh air.

Making use of a randomly found humidifier, he also made sure to find space to plug that in. Keisuke actually felt kind of proud, after going through a mental check-list of what he should do next.

Checking on you didn’t seem like a bad idea. Shuffling closer, he found you peacefully asleep, though he could Hear the congestion you’d built up.

Definitely going to need some tissues.

Before he ventured for those too, he took a moment to admire your own features. A smile crept up on him again. For some reason, he felt like he can hear your giggles echoing through the empty house. You’re usual jabs when pointing out a mistake he made, or how you’d snicker and gossip with his mom when he was in the other room.

More and more, he imagined you in every scenario, smiling and by his side. Keisuke chuckled when he finally brought himself back to reality, opting to grab those tissues he forgot to bring before. And just as he made it back again, he was greeted with your sat up posture.

“Sup sleepyhead,” Baji called out low, tapping the packaging of the tissues into your lap. “B-Baji?! W-when d-“ but before you could conjure anything more, a fit of coughs ripped out of your chest, heaving you forward to cover your mouth. “Don’t worry about the details, just stay put.” Baji waved off your shocked expression.

With the rice and soup ready, he quickly made a bowl of each and presented them to you on a dinner tray your parents had plenty of. “Get some of that gross stuff out of your system, you sound like an old hag.” He chuckled at your offended gasp. But he was right, congested and backed up as your sinuses were. “I-I’ll be right back!” You mumbled before taking the tissue with you to the bathroom, opting to help clear your nose and throat in private.

After washing your hands, you waddled back into the living room; dizzy, disheveled, and red nosed. “I feel awful…” you admitted in a dragged out tone. “You look awful.” he snickered back, earning a swift jab along his neatly parted hair. “Asshole,” you rolled your eyes, and sat back in your plush fort.

“These for me?”

You asked, pointing to the soup and rice.

“No, I got snacky and decided to raid your fridge. Of corse they’re for you dummy.”

You giggled at him and nodded, looking over the dishes in delight. “Thanks.. I’m starving.” You admitted before going in for the rice immediately. He watched patiently as you ate, properly and slow. Taking half-spoon-fulls rice, you gently dunk the spoon into the bland soup to eat both in one bite. “If you don’t mind, could you check the pantry for the dried konbu? I like my soup with some extra.”

Usually for these kinds of requests, you wouldn’t even bother asking Keisuke to do this for you. But seeing him now, doting and attentive, you almost felt obligated to make the most of it. “I saw some, just a sec.” He nodded, before hoisting himself back up and into the kitchen. True to his word, he brought back your requested item. “Want any more, rice or soup?” He asked, holding out his hand for the bowl. “Soup please, thank you.” You smiled warmly at him. He smiled back.

Once your finished the food, he took the dishes and washed them in your sink. He was much more used to house chores than he let on. Thanks Ryoko! “There’s some medicine on the table over there, make sure to take it!” Baji yelled from the other room.

“You’re so domestic, I could get used to seeing this side of you,” you chuckled upon his return, medicine taken and water cup empty.

“Blah blah, don’t get used to it,” he pinched your nose, unexpectedly making you sneeze a few seconds after. Quick for the tissue again, you glared at him, who only laughed.

“You feeling any better?” He asked, noticing your form shriveling back into the covers. “Mmhm,” you nodded, but your downcast eyes made him think otherwise. “Fever doesn’t seem to have broke yet,” he observed, pressing the back of his finger tips to your cheek, hot and pulsating. “Hang tight, I’ll get you a cold rag.”

Keisuke seemed to fret over all he could. It was touching. Feeling airy again, you shuffled deeper into the blankets, yawning. “Still sleepy? That’s fine, get lots of rest.” Baji returned, bowl of water and rag in hand. “Sure,” you nodded, waiting for him to hand you the rag.

But rather than, he rung the rag of eccess water, and reached over to put the cloth over your forehead for you.

And fuuuuuuuuck, Did it feel like heaven. You moaned innocently, it’s sudden coldness made you feel so at ease.

“Well, I guess you got it from here,” Baji mumbled, looking over the living room he’d set you up in to see if he could do anything further. “Take the next dose of medicine in the next, uh.. two hours? Or was it four… shit,” he grumbled, opting to check the box for the seventh time.

“What time is it?” You asked, eyes too blurry to read the time.

“Just a little past one o’clock.” He answered, laying the next dose of medicine by your refilled water glass.

“You got plans?” You asked, sniffling.

“Well, I already walked out of class, so I’ll probably ditch the rest of the day n’ hang out with Mikey.” Baji answered honestly.

You kept silent for a little while. “If.. you want, I have a bunch of good scary movies we could put on the tv.” You suggested softly.

“But you’ve already done a lot for me today, so don’t feel like you have to or anything,” you added, slowly feeling yourself sinking into the excuse pit the average people-pleaser would.

You couldn’t lie, it was pretty painful having to take care of yourself when you were sick. Often neglecting meals, since nothing sounded digestible. Or opting to stay in bed because grabbing medicine was too much work.

“Thanks for coming to check on me.. it really means a lot for you to have gone out of your way for me like this…”

Baji’s heart stopped when he heard you say that. The smile you added on to the sentence making him feel all the more proud. Sporting a blush of his own, he dropped his bag and settled in.

“What kind of movies we talkin here?”

#FragileDearest #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #Tokyo revengers baji #baji keisuke #baji #baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader

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kining-the-evil · 1 year

Note

Hi omg I love your writing so much!!!!!!

I was wondering if you could please write a Jason Dean x little sister where she gets sick and he is the only one there to help her (cuz their dad is crazy).

Thank you and it is 200% your choice

Cough Syrup

/Summary/: you get sick at school, and Jd is the only one who can come an pick you up

•

/An/: thank you so much! I’m glad you like my writing! This is more of a Drabble but I hope you like!

•

/warnings/: vomiting, fever, fem!sister!reader, mentions of a shity dad, mentions of Jd and Veronica’s toxic relationship, soft!jd that may seem slightly out of character but i dong care, I like him being soft for reader

/heathers taglist/: Let me know if you want added!

Heathers masterlist All masterlists

Jason Dean really was having a shity day. For starters, you had been late waking up, throwing off his whole schedule and making you both late to school. And now Veronica was ignoring him. Again. Some bullshit he couldn’t even remember had made her mad, so now he had to think of a way to apologize without really apologizing.

He was staring off into space during 4th period when the school intercom called him to the office. While Jason was always happy to miss his language arts class, he worried slightly about what they wanted. As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything recently that would warnt being called to the office.

“Jason Dean?” The main secretary questioned when he walked in. Jason had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes and nodded. “Phone call for you.” She held out the phone for him to take.

“Hello?”

“Is This Jason Dean?” A shrill voice asked.

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’m Mss. Daniels, I’m the nurse at Sherwood elementary. I have y/n here in the office, she threw up in class. I wasn’t able to get a hold of your father-“

“Does she needs picked up?” Jd was leaning against the wall in the office, glancing at the few people coming in and out of the office.

“She does. We were hoping you could get a hold of-“

“I’ll be there soon.” And he hung up the phone before passing it to the secretary. He quickly went to his locker before leaving the building to get to your school. Mentally, he wondered if you were actually sick, it wouldn’t be the first time you faked to get out of class. If you had he may tell you off for a bit, but ultimately he didn’t care much. School was a waist of time at your age anyways now that you could do math, read, and write.

All thoughts of you faking, however, were quickly gone when he got to the school and saw you. You were curled up on one of the chairs in the office, shivering slightly. You looked pale, and had a good layer of sweat covering you. He immediately felt like shit for yelling at you this morning. You must of felt like shit, and him yelling couldn’t have helped.

“I’m head to pick y/n up.”

“Are you her father?”

“Yep.” Jd easily lied to the women, knowing it would be easier if she thought that. He just prayed she thought he’d had you when he was really young. He had to sign a few papers before getting the ok to take you, in which he took your backpack and led you outside. Jd froze however when he realized he only had his bike.

“Do- do you think you can handle riding?” You were already leaning your body on his, eyes half closed, but you nodded.

“Ya…”

Your brother sighed loudly, he probably shouldn’t let you ride with him but your house was to far away to walk and he sure as hell didn’t want to leave his bike here. Maybe, if he’d thought ahead he could have asked Veronica…

“Can we Go?” You whined slightly, pulling Jd back to the present.

“Ya, Just keep a tight hold, ok?” When you nodded he climbed on, helping you on as well before taking off. Luckily, the ride seemed to go quickly and before you knew it he was pulling up to the large house you called home.

“Ok, why don’t-“ Jd was cut off when you practically jumped off of the bike and threw up in the flower bed. He cringed slightly at the idea of what the flowers would look- and smell, like after words, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he rubbed up and down your back, trying to comfort you until you were done.

“Finished?” He asked, earning him a nod. “Ok, let’s get you inside then. Go change and then come back down to the living room.”

“Ok.” And you disappeared upstairs while jd went on a hunt for everything he’d need. Some cough syrup, which would hopefully help since it was the only medication they had in the house, some extra blankets, a cool compression, and he even started some tea to bring out to you.

This wasn’t the first time Jd had to take care of you while you were sick. Hell, he’d practically been raising you since your mom died. He wasn’t even surprised that your dad hadn’t answered when the school called, he probably wouldn’t even notice you were sick. Asshole.

“Ok, I know it’s going to taste like shit but you’ve got it take it-“ Jd stoped when he didn’t see you laying on the couch like he’d expected. It had been a good 20 minutes, you should already be down here, maybe playing a tape you liked or listening to the radio.

“Y/n?” He called out, carrying the stuff up the stairs and checking your room. Nothing. Bathroom? Nope. Guest room? No. Finally he checked his own bedroom, which is where he found you.

You were curled up in his bed, eyes shut as you slept. His blanket was pulled tightly to your body, and when he got closer he recognized one of his shirts on you. He sighed slightly before shaking you gently. He didn’t want to wake you up, but he needed to see if this medicine would help or if he’s have to go to the story later.

“Come on, wake up.” He tried to be gentle, watching your eyes flutter open.

“What…?”

“Sorry kid, but you need to take this.” He held up the small cup of cough syrup. You reached for it, sleep making your brain foggy as you swallowed it. It wasn’t until after that you reacted to the taste.

“Gross.” You mumbled, handing the cup to him and hearing him chuckle.

“I know. But you can go back to sleep now-“ you grabbed his arm when he tried to stand up.

“Stay, please,” you whined.

“You’re going to make me lay in bed with you?” Jd tried to joke, but your eyes quickly filled with tears. “Hey! No, I was just joking. If you want me to lay with you I will.”

He quickly pulled back the covers to slid into bed with you. “See?” You seemed to calm down, cuddling into your brothers body with your arms wrapped around him as you drifted back to sleep.

#jason dean heathers #heathers (1988)#heathers x reader #heathers the movie #jd x reader #jason dean x child reader #jason dean x reader #jason dean x sister!reader #request

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rubykgrant · 2 months

Text

(I'm still re-writing and editing the whole chapter, but I liked how this part turned out; a conversation between Jon and Martin while they're hiding out in Scotland, about love and their lives~)

If Martin didn’t know any better, he’d think they were just two regular people, out on a regular date.

“We could have been doing this for years. Just sitting together. Enjoying each other,” Jon murmurs, head resting on Martin’s chest.

“I would have liked that,” Martin says. He imagines himself and Jon before, how they were both awkward in different ways, how they each may have tried to help the other move past it, how it could have felt the first time Jon held him close, or how it could have felt when he realized he felt safe with Jon. Wanting to keep somebody, and also wanting to be kept, not being afraid to let it happen.

“We also could have had ANY other job…” Jon continues.

“One that, perhaps, wasn’t so hazardous to our health?” Martin finishes.

“Mmm, yes. Did you know- I nearly dropped out of university?”

“What, NO? Really? You?” Martin tries to picture Jon quitting, just leaving something behind, even something that was just causing him distress, and he can’t. Jon was more likely to “sunk-cost fallacy” himself to death.

“I was… struggling with a few classes, near the end. That wasn’t why I almost left, though. The university wanted me to see a counselor, just so I could have, as they put it, a ‘mental health refresher’. I, er- got a touch offended. And I decided for myself, I would either double-down and pass everything with top-grades, OR drop out. Because surely that would teach everybody a lesson,” Jon sighs, as if frustrated with his previous thought process. “If I had actually left, I probably wouldn’t have gone to work for the Magnus Institute. Who knows if we would have even met…”

“Wait, third option. What if you actually went for that mental health refresher?” Martin asks, and his voice quivers with a sudden attack of giggles. “B-because, Jon, I- I almost applied for a job as a receptionist at a counselor’s office!”

“Are you serious?” Jon is laughing a bit now, too.

“Yes! I wouldn’t have needed to lie on the CV or anything, either. The only reason I didn’t go for it- the job didn’t pay quite enough to afford everything I needed at the time,”

“So you’re telling me, we could have had an entirely DIFFERENT awkward encounter? With a whole other conflict of an inappropriate work relationship? Oh, if only, in another life…” Jon says in an overly dramatic, wistful tone.

“Hey, why would it be awkward? Or inappropriate?”

“Because, I would have walked into that office all- all pissed-off about everything, feeling insulted that anybody would even suggest I wasn’t absolutely FINE. If you thought I was insufferable before, you should have seen me while I was at university, especially near the end. I can promise you- charming I was NOT. I also couldn’t stop picking at the spots on my face,” Jon grimaces, thinking about himself.

“Fine, you were horrible. But so am I… if we did date back then, I would have been one of those people who always wants to get your acne spots for you. Now, what about the inappropriate part?”

“Well, maybe not entirely inappropriate, but… I’m sure it is at least frowned upon for employees of a counselor’s office to date the patients,” Jon isn’t sure what the rules would be (he’s certain the actual counselors can’t be involved with people they see professionally). “And even if that job would be less stressful for you, would you want to risk it for an awful little shit with a bad attitude?”

“Hmm, fair. Maybe I’d wait and see if the mental health refresher actually WORKED, and once you you stopped being a patient, I’d give you my number…”

“Making the first move, in this scenario?” Jon’s voice implies an attempt at sarcasm, but his face looks much more eager and intrigued.

“You’d be surprised how confident I am when I don’t have to worry about creepy-crawlies trying to eat me, or lying about my age and work experience on a daily basis!” Martin chuckles, and his laughter makes Jon bounce against him.

“Wouldn’t that have been a dream. I get a mental health refresher, you have a pleasant job as a receptionist, we go on a few fun dates, and start a happy relationship together, and you can indulge your pimple-popping fetish-”

“It is NOT a fetish!” Martin’s hug tightens around Jon, trying to squeeze the air out of him. For a moment, Martin sternly refuses to look at Jon, instead staring straight ahead (if he sees Jon’s face right now, he might laugh himself off the bench).

“Do you want me to stop washing my face?” Jon wheezes out.

“You’re the one who made a whole kink-list!” Martin reminds him. “And did I add anything like that? No, no I didn’t!”

“Darling… don’t be afraid… to be yourself… I’ll accept you…” Jon is gasping now, but it is less from Martin’s powerful hug, and more from his own laughter.

“I HATE you,” Martin informs him.

“I think we’ve come to the conclusion… that you actually LOVE me…” Jon snorts, like that was so clever or something, and that breaks Martin’s concentration. The attempt to hug Jon into silence ends, all the muscles in Martin’s arms loosen, and Jon melts into him as they both give in to the giggles that have been building.

Jon forces himself to take a big, deep breath, and once his chest stops hitching, he tilts his head up to give Martin a kiss. Around them, people pass, not even noticing, but anybody who had been thinking about sitting at that bench feels like they’d rather find a different spot. Jon and Martin aren’t unseen phantoms, repelling people from their space. Nothing as alarming as that; they’re just uninteresting shapes, on a bench that isn’t very appealing, for no special reason.

This allows them plenty of time to linger, and kiss lasts as long as they want.

In the back of his mind, Jon has decided that no matter what kind of life they could have had, if he still met Martin somehow, falling in love would just be an eventuality. How could he resist any version of Martin? How did he resist THIS version of Martin for so long? Jon is so deeply in love, it is hard to even remember NOT feeling this way. Despite his protests, mostly in reference to himself having such a bad habit of being a wanker, Jon is secretly a hopeless romantic. He’d die, over and over again, for Martin’s sake.

Martin, on the other hand, has different thoughts he’s keeping to himself. Them having a chance to be free of the Magnus Institute and still be drawn together is very nice… but even though he argued in favor of dating the “un-charming” Jon in another reality, Martin doubts it could actually happen that way. Maybe he’s being realistic, maybe he’s actually just a pessimist underneath all his optimistic layers. However, the fact that he actually HAS this with Jon now, against the odds and through all the crushing pain they’ve suffered, makes Martin treasure it even more. His rotten luck wouldn’t give him another chance like this. He’d fight for it, he’d break for it.

They don’t share these thoughts, so they never know how different yet similar they really are. Instead, Jon kisses the man he’ll always love, and Martin kisses the Jon he has, and both are happy enough to know that much.

When they begin their walk back, Jon comfortably links his arm with Martin’s again, sort of leading the way this time. Still a guard-cat, still protective and alert, but considerably more calm. Martin is pleased with himself indeed; he’s the center of Jon’s concerns, but that doesn’t need to be something strained or stressful. It can also be fulfilling.

#the magnus archives #jmart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood

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bordysbae · 2 years

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can i get 11. "can i get your number?" with jack hughes?

“stood up”

jack hughes x fem!reader

word count: 0.8k

i made this in class so i apologize if it’s crappy ugh

recently you’ve been seeing this guy, and today is your guys’ third date. he’s a little flakey when it comes to dates, but throughout all of the rescheduling, you guys finally found a day that works. currently you’re sitting in the small cafe, waiting for the guy who was supposed to be here 5 minutes ago.

another ten minutes pass by, and at this point the waitress has come over twice already. you’re a little embarrassed due to the fact you’ve had to state you’re waiting for someone twice now. after ten more minutes of waiting, you decide to call him. he doesn’t answer, so you leave a voicemail, “hey adam, it’s been 25 minutes. are you on your way? call me back, thanks.” you sigh after ending the message. you notice these three men who seem to be around your age giving you pitiful glances, which makes you even more embarrassed.

“i feel so bad for her, she got stood up.” nico states. “me too, she’s really pretty. i think i’m gonna go ask for her number” jack says. this makes both nico and dawson almost spit out their coffees. “what?” dawson chuckles.

jack gives dawson a confused look, “what do you mean what?” “are you an idiot jack? obviously she’s waiting for someone, what if it’s her boyfriend?!” dawson replies. “well first, you don’t know if you don’t ask. second, if that’s her boyfriend who just stood her up, i don’t think she should be dating him” jack shrugs before pushing his chair back and rising up from it. nico and dawson each share a glance at each other, before watching the 21 year-old boy make his way over to you.

“excuse me?” he says, grabbing your attention. you look up from your phone stupidly expecting it to be adam, but who you’re met with is way more attractive. “yes?” you ask softly, not trying to sound rude. “may i sit?” he asks, and you nod in response. “i saw that you got stood up, and i think you’re really pretty so i wanted to come talk to you” jack says shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

your cheeks begin to turn pink, and you try your best to hide it. “oh thank you! i must say, you’re not too bad yourself.” you smile. “i’m jack, it’s really nice to meet you—“ “y/n. it’s nice to meet you too jack.” you blush.

after a bit of talking with jack and explaining the situation with adam, you discover he plays professional hockey which genuinely shocks you. “wow! i had no idea, that’s amazing! i guess i’ll have to start going to hockey games” you exclaim. “you better, i’d be more than happy to see you in the stands!” he smiles. “whens the next game?” “tonight, actually” “oh really? i think i’m free” you say, pulling out your phone to check your calendar. “can i get your number? i’ll buy you a ticket, i’ll make sure you get the best seat in the house.” he says with a cheesy grin across his face.

“you sure that’s the only reason you want my number, hughes?” you say, a smirk-ish grin growing on your face. “oh were doing nicknames now? jeez, let me take you out on a date first” he chuckles, making you laugh as well. “well i guess you’ll need my number to do that” you shrug, as you hand him your phone to type in his number.

he saves his contact and slides you your phone back, and you see ‘hughes <3’ saved. he hands you his phone to type in your number, and that’s exactly what you do. “i’ll text you the details on your ticket, then maybe we can catch a late dinner afterwards?” he suggests. “that sounds great! and really jack, you don’t need to buy my ticket” “oh i insist. but i better see you in the stands tonight, right up against the glass” “oh you will don’t worry, i’ll be your little cheerleader” you chuckle, and he laughs as well.

“alright then, it’s a date! the game starts at 7:00, so get there around 6:30. and i’ll have someone come find you after the game so we can head to dinner” “thank you again, jack” “of course y/n, i’m really glad i met you. maybe something good can come out of being stood up” “that’s true, it’s not everyday a professional hockey player buys you a ticket to his game and asks you to dinner” you blush, making jacks cheeks turn pink too.

“i need to get going, but i’ll see you tonight y/n!” he smiles before getting up to go back over to the two other boys from earlier, who you now learned to be dawson mercer and nico hischier. you smile to yourself as his friends hype him up over his successful mission.

maybe getting stood up isn’t so bad after all.

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nj devils #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #nico hischier #dawson mercer

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isaidonyourknees · 6 months

Text

Lucky Number Five

Fives x f!reader

Word count: 2.9k

Summary: the number five has always seemed to follow you around. One day, it all makes sense why

Warnings: none! If you think I missed something, let me know!

A/N: hi! My favourite number is actually five! It always has been and when Fives was introduced I knew he would become one of my favourite characters. And he very much is. Also fun fact: the opening is based off the conversation I had with my older sister when I was little and really is why five is my favourite number. Hope you enjoy 💕

“What’s your favourite number?”

You look up from your toys to see your older sister standing over you. You drop your toys, turning all your focus towards the question.

“Five! ‘Cause I’m five!” You announce proudly. Your sister sits down next to you.

“Mine’s five too” she says. Your eyes widen.

“Really! Why?”

“When I was three my favourite number was three. And when I was four my favourite number was four. And when I was five my favourite number was five. But I think six looks funny so my favourite number is five” she explains. Wanting to impress your older sister you nod along.

“Six does look funny,” you agree with her. You really didn’t think six looked funny, yet five stuck with you anyway.

•~•~•

You’re tired by the time your ship lands on Coruscant. Leaving your home world was a tough decision but you knew you wouldn’t be able to make much of yourself if you stayed there. You didn’t know what you wanted to do with your life, but you did know that you wouldn’t figure it out on your small fishing world. Coruscant had a little bit of everything and you figured it was a good place to start. You had managed to get a small apartment in a somewhat decent area and you had secured yourself a job at a diner nearby. You had shipped your belongings to your new apartment over the past few weeks and now it was your turn to finally arrive at your new home.

Lugging your last few bags with you over the several blocks between the spaceport and your apartment was even more tiring and by the time you finally arrive you’re ready to collapse from the exhaustion.

“Almost there” you remind yourself as you muster up the last ounces of energy you have. You knock on a plain door with ‘office’ written on it. A few moments pass and you’re starting to think that maybe no one’s there and you may be stranded for the night when the door finally opens. A Togrutan man gives you a questioning look.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah I’m here to pick up my key” you say, giving him your name. He closes the door on you without saying anything.

“Prick” you grumble under your breath. The door reopens and he carelessly tosses you the keys.

“Level 8. Room 5. Elevators broken” he says, closing the door on you again before you could even suck in a breath to respond. You huff, slumping a little before you grab your bags again and begin the climb.

When you finally reach the eighth level you breathe a sigh of relief. Walking down the hallway you glance at each door, checking each number until you find number five. You drop your bags and slowly reach up to trace the number on the door. Five. 5. This number always seems to find its way to you. You were the fifth name on the school register. You graduated fifth highest in your class. Your first car was a fifth generation. Now that you think of it, it took you five tries before you found this apartment. None of it was planned. The number five was just always around. You shake your head. You’re tired and are probably reading too much into it.

Unlocking the door, you’re glad to see that all of your boxes have made it here safely. You’ll worry about them later. For now you dig your bedding out of one of your bags and make your bed, ready to pass out in it. You’ll have to start unpacking your things tomorrow and then you officially start at your new job the day after. You fall face first onto your bed, looking forward to your much needed rest.

•~•~•

“Here’s your shirt and apron. You’ll need to get your own black pants. And we’re a no droid establishment so don’t try to smuggle one in,” your new manager - Nara - explains.

“Why would I smuggle a droid in?” You question. Nara rolls her eyes.

“Our last dishwasher decided that he could get a droid to do the job for him so he could slack off. He didn’t last long. Thing is, a lot of people have issues with droids for whatever reason” Nara explains with a shrug. “Because we’re droid free, you’ll see a few of clones in here. They’re usually hungover and will keep to themselves, but a few will try to cause some trouble every now and then. Just grab me or Bill and we’ll deal with them.”

“Clones?” You ask. Nara frowns.

“Yeah. They’re the ones currently fighting against the separatists. Alongside the Jedi. You do know about the war right?”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t know that the republic had clones created.”

Isn’t that a bit unethical you thought to yourself.

“It’s why it’s called the clone wars” Nara laughs.

“I guess my world is so removed from it all. We just called it the war” you shrug.

“Well next time some come in, I’ll make sure to point them out to you. Now here’s your order pad,” she hands you a small device. “It’ll take a little time getting used to, the layout isn’t the best, but you’ll be fine. To log on just press this user button and enter your login number. Yours is five I believe.” Nara clicks the user button and types in the number. Your name appears at the top of the screen.

“Remember that number. You’ll also be using it to clock in and out each day. Now for today you can just shadow me and learn the layout and order pad.”

You followed Nara around, mainly focusing on taking orders and pouring cafs. You were quick to pick things up and by the end of your third shift you were running food and cleaning tables. It wasn’t exactly fulfilling work but it kept you busy and you appreciated that.

A week after you had started, you were wiping down a table when Nara sidled up next to you.

“Here come your first lot of clones.”

You look up and watch five armoured men seat themselves in one of the booths. They were all the same height and they had the same handsome face. It was a little weird to look at five seperate men when they all looked the same. But with a closer look you saw the little ways they differed from each other - two were completely bald, while another had an intricate buzz cut. The two bald men had face tattoos. Another one had a goatee. All of their armour had different patterns all painted the same dark blue colour.

“The boys of the 501st,” Nara continues. “They’re usually a lot of fun, if you catch my drift.” She winks.

“Nara!” You exclaim, not expecting her to say something like that. 501st. There’s that number again. She just smirks and shrugs, unapologetic.

“They can be a bit flirty and mischievous, but overall they’re kind and friendly. They’re perfect for your first taste of clones. Here I’ll finish this.” Nara takes the spray bottle and cloth from you and nudges you towards the newly occupied booth.

“Good morning!” You chirp. One of them groans, causing you to falter.

“Don’t mind him,” the man with the intricate buzz cut says. “He had too much to drink last night.”

“Oh. So one caf for him,” you note.

“Make that one for each of us sweet cheeks!” The clone with a tattoo that wrapped around his head and ended under his eye said. You eye him wearily as you enter the order.

“You’re new here.” This comes from the clone with no physical changes to him. He has a hand print stamped onto the chest of his armour to identify him though.

“Uhh yes. Started last week actually” you respond. He gives you a kind smile, easing you a bit.

“It’s nice to see a new face,” he says. You look at each of them in turn, taking in their features. Their strong cheekbones and their chocolate brown eyes. Their tattoos and haircuts. It must be so weird seeing your own face over and over again.

“I can imagine” you reply with a small smile. It earns you a chuckle and your smile widens a little more.

“I like you. The name’s Echo” he introduces himself.

“Nice to meet you Echo. I like you too.”

“Echo if you’re done flirting, I’d like to get something to eat,” the clone with the republic cog tattooed on his face says, slurring slightly. Clearly he still had some alcohol left in him. Echo flushes slightly.

“I’m not flirting Jesse. I’m being nice!” Echo fires back.

“Hey I don’t blame you, she’s pretty. But can we get food first?” Jesse says. You feel your cheeks warm up slightly.

“Do you all know what you want or do you need some time to look at the menu?” You ask, trying to ignore the slight warmth in your cheeks.

“We’re ready” Jesse claims but the other clone with the face tattoo is quick to speak up.

“Wait I’m not! I don’t know what I want yet!”

“Hardcase!” Jesse groans in annoyance. You chuckle a little to yourself at their antics. They are certainly endearing.

“Well how about I go get you fellas some caf and that’ll give you some time to think about what you want to eat,” you give them the compromise with a smile.

“Thank you,” the man with the buzz cut says. “Could you make his a double. He needs it.” He gestures to the man next to him, the only one yet to say anything. He’s got his head pressed to the table, his eyes closed and his face screwed up.

“Sure thing.”

You move over to the counter, grabbing five cups and setting them down on a tray. Nara is quick to approach you.

“Sooooo, what do you think?” She whispers. You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling along with her.

“They’re definitely endearing. You didn’t tell me that they’re so attractive!” You say, voice low. She laughs.

“Well I had to leave something for you to discover!” She giggles. You pour out the drinks, making sure to make one a little stronger for the man who is still hungover.

“Do you know this group?” You ask as you organise the drinks.

“I mean each time they come in it varies a little. Their captain is sometimes with them, as well as a few others. They usually spend the night at 79s - a club popular amongst the clones - which is only a few blocks away before coming here to sober up a little before they head back to their base for their training. I’ve had a some flings with a few of them, but you have to be careful with clones. They don’t always come back.”

This dampens the mood between the two of you. These poor men are born to die. You vow to yourself then and there that whenever you interact with a clone, you’ll make it a good experience.

“Don’t let this stop you if one catches your eye,” Nara rushes to say when she senses the shift in the mood. “Just be careful. Don’t get too attached.”

You return the caf pot and give her a shaky smile, not really sure what to say. She returns with her own shaky smile before you grab the tray of drinks.

“Alright boys here are your cafs” you announce, placing the tray in their table and placing a cup in front of each man, making sure to give the stronger one to the man who still had his eyes closed.

“Not so loud please” he groans.

“Oh so you can speak?” You say to him. He slowly opens his eyes and when he finally takes a look at you, he bolts upright.

“Whoa” is all he says. You blink, not sure what’s happening. Shaking it off you nudge his caf closer to him with a smile.

“This should make you feel at least a little better.” He accepts the cup, taking a drink from it, however he doesn’t take his eyes off you. Unsure what’s happening, you glance at the man next to him - the one with the buzz cut - who nudges the staring one in the ribs.

“Ow Kix!” He grunts.

“Shush I know that didn’t hurt,” Kix scolds.

Clearing your throat, you pull out your order pad.

“Alright have you got your order figured out now Hardcase?” You ask.

“Sure have! I’ll have the pancakes” he announces proudly.

“Good choice” you say as you note it down.

“Make that two pancakes please,” Jesse interjects and you nod your confirmation.

“May I please get the fruit toast” Echo requests when you’re ready.

“Sure can.”

“And I’ll get the scrambled eggs” Kix says. You look at the last clone to order. He no longer looks hungover. It seems he pulled himself together rather quickly. He flashes you a charming grin and Kix groans.

“Here we go” he mutters. The clone with the goatee ignores his brother as he leans forward.

“What would you recommend?” He questions.

“I’m not too sure. I haven’t worked here long enough to be able to give a good recommendation. The breakfast burger looks good,” You suggest.

“Perfect. I’ll get you one of those.” You add the dish to the order before sending it through to the kitchen.

“Food shouldn’t be too long. Let me know if you need anymore caf” you add, not really sure what to do while the clone with the goatee continued to stare at you. You hurried off, returning behind the counter to do some tidying up.

“Good job di’kut, you scared her off” you hear one of them chide.

You busy yourself with other customers and cleaning tables, your eyes constantly flicking over to watch the group of clones. They were chatting amongst themselves, clearly having fun and enjoying the company of their brothers. After the first few glances at their table, the still unnamed clone started to catch your eye. At first you were embarrassed at having been caught, until you realised that the reason you kept catching his gaze was because he kept glancing at you. Something about you had clearly intrigued him and you were starting to feel the same way about him.

When you were called to grab their food, you were quick to drop what you were doing, looking forward to your interaction with them. It takes you a few trips to get all their food out.

“Could we get some more caf sweet cheeks?” Hardcase asks as you place Kix’s scrambled eggs down in front of him.

“Please” Echo throws in. You smile sweetly at him in appreciation and nod.

“Of course!” You return with the caf pot, pouring some in Hardcase’s cup.

“Anyone else?”

You get a chorus of yes pleases and you go around filling up each cup.

“Careful. This is a new pot so it’s extra hot,” you warn as you top up the last cup.

“Not as hot as you” the clone with the goatee says with a wink, catching you off guard. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Uh - I -“ you don’t get much time to think of a response before Jesse is groaning.

“Come on, surely you have something better than that Fives.”

His name is Fives. That damn number.

You drop the pot of caf.

“Kriff!” You swear. Nara hurries over at the commotion.

“I’m so sorry! I was just- I just-“ you stutter out, completely frazzled.

“Hey, don’t stress. It’s fine! I’ll go get a mop. Don’t move so you don’t hurt yourself,” she reassures you before she heads out the back.

“Hey, you alright?” Echo asks, a concerned look on his face. You look at him so you don’t have to look at Fives. Because something about encountering the number this time seems different. It’s as if all the other fives have been leading to this one. To Fives. The handsome clone right in front of you.

You do glance over at him then. He looks surprised and a little concerned like the rest of his brothers. Now it’s your turn to stare at him for a little bit before you answer Echo’s question while your eyes remain fixated on Fives.

“Yeah. I am now.”

•~•~•

“Come on, if we stay here any longer we’ll get a scolding from Rex” Kix says.

“Ugh no thanks” Hardcase groans.

“Aw come on. Echo wants to flirt with the cute waitress a little more, don’t you?” Jesse teases, throwing his arm around Echo.

“Kix is right. Besides, I think I’ll leave her for Fives. He seems pretty enamoured by her” Echo responds.

“Yeah, well did you see her?” Fives comments back. Kix stands up from the table.

“Well you can daydream about her all you want on the walk back to base” he says. Fives rolls his eyes, but stands up with the rest of his brothers as they file out of the booth.

He’s following them to the door when he feels a hand grasp his wrist. He turns to find you standing nervously behind him. He gives you his most charming smile and you smile back at him. He can’t help but think that you have such a sweet smile. You press a piece of paper into his hand.

“If-if you’re interested” you stutter. Then you’re turning away and returning to your job. His smile widens as he tucks the piece paper with your comm number on it carefully into his pocket.

You’d be hearing from him very soon.

#fives x reader #star wars #arc trooper fives #fives #hardcase #echo #Jesse #Kix #fives x you #the clone wars

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aboutcustardcreams · 5 months

Text

If love is a sin, my stake is already burning

[ z. s & c. g ]

a/n: I’m ridiculously verbose, I’m sorry. This chapter mainly focuses on Cordelia and Zelda, and got carried away, meaning that, no, this is not the end. 😅 hope you guys don’t mind.

Part 2 here

Zelda's lashes flutter lazily, as she takes a long sigh. Her mind, for some reason, can't really focus on the things she is supposed to do. She can't help herself but think about the things she said to you and the way you stormed out the house, without a proper bye as you normally do. Zelda didn't mean to sound harsh in your regards; however, when it's about protecting those she loves, she knows she can be fierce, a thorn in the side for some. Her sister Hilda surely knew something about that, considering all the time she had been killed by her on a whim.

When the phone rings, she is glad to give her mind a break, "Academy of Unseen Arts, this is Directrix Zelda Spellman", she greets, while absently playing with the chord, "How may I assist you?"

"I actually know a couple of ways."

Zelda recognizes the Supreme's voice on the other end of the line and her posture relaxes, "Missing me already?" a lopsided grin rapidly finds her way through her perfectly red lips.

Cordelia hums positively, while leaning against the wall behind her, then adds, "I'm calling for our common matter," she trails off, her eyes firmly settled on you, as you sleep soundly in her bed. Memories of what happened earlier at the greenhouse cause her to suck in a breath, that doesn't go unnoticed by the headmistress of the Academy of Unseen Arts.

"Celeste," Zelda mutters under her breath, hoping nothing bad has happened to you in her absence. However, there's a little voice inside her head telling her exactly the opposite.

Cordelia hums again, "I'm afraid so."

Zelda merely rolls her eyes, "What has she done now?"

Her eyes burn with mixed feelings, as a whirlwind of thoughts, as per usual, make her focus on the worst-case scenarios.

Cordelia giggles softly, she can easily imagine the daggers that Zelda is throwing at whatever is in front of her, "No drama, so to speak," she promises, however, there is indeed something to talk about, "She passed out from exhaustion before."

Zelda's eyes fall close for a second. She huffs quietly, before a bitter smile comes gracing upon her now tense features, "That witch," she drawls out in an exasperated tone. Even if she sounds mad at you, she is first of all mad at herself. First instinct for a witch like Zelda is to blame herself, for not having been suasive enough to convince Celeste to stay home that day.

"You were right to worry", Cordelia adds, nervously racking her fingertips through her hair, "But she is fine now, all she needs is proper rest for a while."

"It’s incredible how exhausting it is to be right all the time," she speaks, Zelda grabs herself a cigarette, before placing it between her lips with shaky fingers.

She hears Cordelia giggle at her admission, before muttering a sarcastic, "Oh, I wouldn't know about that."

With the help of her magic, she lights it up and gives a long drag, before speaking again, "She better listen to me this time or else," she argues, making it clear that this time there wouldn't have been no room for pushback, "Where is she now? Let me speak to her."

"I'm afraid this isn't a good moment. She is sleeping like an infant," a warm, amused smile tugs at the Supreme's lips, "I gave her a magic serum to help with that."

Zelda nods slowly, her mind, though, races to make a plan to cover your classes at the Academy for at least the upcoming week. Along with that, she knows she can't stay in Greendale whereas you're in New Orleans, the desire to see you and be close to you, despite Cordelia assuring her you were fine, was too strong to avoid.

"Is she hurt in any way?", her voice comes out both husky and low.

The Supreme's gaze softens, recognizing concern in Zelda's voice, "Anything that a good rest can't fix," she approaches close to you, eyes brimming as much as Zelda's. "Probably only her pride is wounded," she jokes, hoping to elicit a giggle out of Zelda.

The redhead hums, a brief smile tugs at her lips. It's sincere, however, she still can't completely relax, considering she hasn’t seen you yet.

"She'd do and say anything not to admit she needs help."

Cordelia's eyes glimmer with mischievousness, "that actually reminds me of someone I know," she teases playfully.

Zelda scoffs, "Shut it now, Cordelia," something flickers across the redhead's face. An emotion, more than an annoyance. She had grown fond of the Supreme around the same time as you did, while joining forces against Michael, Lucifer's illegitimate child. She thought of it as a mere crush at first, it wasn't strange for witches, especially those of the Church of Night, to feel lust and lasciviousness inside, however, having known you for longer had made a difference in her way of thinking. She came to understand that what she felt wasn't a simple physical attraction, but a deeper connection that she knew existed between the two of you too.

"She is a tough one, just like you, and once she sets her mind on something, it's set for good," Cordelia speaks again, pulling her out of her own thoughts.

The Directrix inhales a long drag of cigarette and resettles more comfortably into her chair, "Just like my sweet Sabrina," her voice is filled with emotion and longing as she mutters her name. Cordelia smiles sadly. A crease forms in between her brows, having heard of the tragedy that befell on the Spellmans' family.

"You'd be surprised to know how hard has become for me to tell her no."

Cordelia arches an eyebrow at that, "What are you talking about? You always say no to Celeste, she just doesn't listen to you," she remarks amusedly.

Zelda has to hide a smile while flicking ash off of her cigarette into a chinaware, "She needs to listen more and talk less."

"She wouldn't be our Celeste then, would she?", the Supreme points out, with a grin.

"I guess you're right," Zelda replies, as she moistens her lips with her tongue.

You hum in your sleep, lightly furrowing your eyebrows. A moment of silence follows, the Supreme almost holds her breath to not disturb your so needed sleep, "I think she gets occasional headaches still," she hums, crinkling her nose in thought. Zelda puts away her cigarette, feeling her anxiety boiling up once again, "What do you mean? I thought she was sleeping," she retorts, with a frown.

"She is," she mutters softly, gently stroking your forehead with her fingertips. You're warm, but you don't have a fever, "I know a spell that can help with that," Zelda pauses, biting her bottom lip, "Go ahead, I'll join you from here to make it more effective."

tui gratia lovis gratia sit cure.

The two witches mutter the incantation for three times in a row, and praise Lilith, it quickly does its job. Your features relax once again, and your cheeks regain some color once again.

A smile of relief graces upon Cordelia's face, "Much better now," she coos, gently tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

Zelda opens her mouth to respond, but the Supreme precedes her, "Love, there's something else I need to tell you."

A crease appears on the elder's forehead, "What is it?"

"I...", Cordelia's lips stir in a thin line, as she masters the courage to confess to Zelda what she has done. That being only one part of the big news in store for her. "I'd like to talk to you in person, if you don't mind, " and before Zelda can question her more, she continues, "It's not necessarily a bad thing, so don't worry."

"You know today is becoming quite a challenge not to," she huffs sarcastically, causing Cordelia to chuckle. "You're right, but it will get better as the day progresses, I'm sure of it," she admits. She combs her fingers into your hair, a soft loving expression gracing upon her features as she looks at you, clinging to her sheets. She couldn't wait to lay herself in that same bed and inhaling your scent, that would have lulled her to sleep. Her cheeks turned crimson at the thought.

"Zelds?"

"Yes, dear?"

Cordelia breathes in and out slowly, "I love her," she confesses, in a faint whisper. Her eyes well up with tears, burning drops that she yet has to shed. Zelda nods softly, she knew that about Cordelia already. They had talked about it, about being both attracted to you, along with being attracted to one another. However, they yet had to confess it to you.

"I know, darling," she coos.

Cordelia swallows back the lump forming in her throat.

"I just love her so much," she continues, "I think...", she stutters, "she deserves to know. We need to tell her," a certain urgency fills her voice as she speaks. Maybe it had been the fear of seeing you pass out in her arms to make her speak that way, or maybe the desire to have you in her arms whatever she felt like it. Zelda couldn't know. However, she could relate. She wanted the exact same thing, but she was also afraid of a possible rejection. A single tear slides down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it with the back of her hand.

"We shouldn't act impulsively."

"No," Cordelia gritters out, "However, I feel this is the right time," she eyes you carefully, as a new determination rises through her.

"I'm texting my sister Hilda as we speak. I'll be there in a few. Wait for me, before... doing anything."

"I promise," the Supreme nods quietly at that. She immediately feels a wave of relief wash over her. Honestly it would have terrified her to confess her feelings without the other witch present by her side.

After a small pause, Zelda adds in a husk tone, "You know I feel the same, don't you?"

Cordelia's smile grows ear to ear, "I know, silly."

Zelda rolls her eyes at the pet name the Supreme has just used. However, it makes her smile, because it feels personal, filled with an affection that her heart seeks on a daily basis.

"Hilda will be here shortly," she later informs Cordelia, "I'll teleport in your room if it's okay with you."

Cordelia playfully rolls her eyes at the sudden formality performed by Zelda and a huff escape from her lips, "Just hurry up, please."

The Directrix of the Academy of Unseen Arts tries to hide the content smile that has just appeared on her face. Humming softly, she seals the promise with a whispered "I will", then, she ends the call.

"Can I get you something? A calming tea to help you soothe your nerves?"

Zelda finds herself scoffing slightly, as per usual she takes that offering, not for what it is, a simple nice gesture, but as a subtle way to address to her fragile frame of mind, "My nerves are perfectly fine, however, I can't say the same about yours."

"Yeah, right— I'm sorry," slightly shaking her head, the Supreme lets out a sigh, "She just scared me."

"I can imagine," Zelda hums in thought. The two witches fade into silence for a while, "It must have not been pleasant," she later adds, as she reconsiders Cordelia's offer, regarding the tea.

"Not in the slightest, no," she adds, slowly.

Zelda can feel the tension lingering in the air. Her eyes settle on you for a moment, before looking back at the Supreme, whose mind appears to be elsewhere. Something gnaws at her chest, something she can't quite place yet.

"Cordelia," she starts with a low tone, "I'm here with both of you. And everything is okay, just how you told me on the phone."

Cordelia nods, offering her a brief glance.

"What did you give her?", she clasps one of the Supreme's hands in the hope to give her some comfort.

"Essence of mauve, natural herbs and a little magic. The potion is meant to make the person sleep for as long as the body needs."

"It's gonna take a while then," Zelda teases with a coy smile, making the blonde witch chuckle, "Cordelia, she can't do this anymore. It's unhealthy," she later adds in a more serious tone.

The Supreme knew this conversation had to be done and she also knew that the Directrix had all the rights to think of it that way. Her eyes flash with both hurt and disappointment. The possibility of not having you around for a while caused a deep pain to take root inside her chest.

"I thought it would work; I really did. Transmutation alone seizes a lot of energy and covering a distance like this — is like asking a toddler to go perform an exorcism. It's too much."

Cordelia's mouth goes dry, "I know, Zelda. I'm aware of that," her hand slip out of Zelda's grasp, as she takes small steps towards you once again. The redhead follows right up and takes a seat at the end of the mattress right next to Cordelia who's still standing next to you. "And I'm so sorry I didn't notice before. I should have never suggested this in the first place," guilt gnaws at her chest as she speaks.

Zelda sighs softly, "We both know why you did that, and why I allowed it," she prompts the younger with to sit next to her with a flick of her finger.

"As if she needed your permission," Cordelia playfully rolls her eyes and obliges, "Not everything is about you, Zelda."

"Oh but it is," she retorts with a smug smile, "It also is. And I'm sure you agree with me, don't you?", she gently pushes a strand of hair from her face, making the Supreme's cheeks turn crimson.

"She has a soft spot for you," the Supreme's lips quirk upwards.

"And for you," Zelda adds, "You should have seen her this morning, so determined to come to you despite feeling unwell," the smile on Cordelia's face fades and turns into a frown.

"I've something else to tell you," Cordelia directs her gaze towards you slowly. Her hand reaches out to touch your arm, who's hidden under the bedsheets.

"You seem concerned," Zelda states bluntly.

"I did something I'm not quite fond of," her voice wavers a bit on the last word, "Celeste wouldn't tell me what was happening to her. I sat and watched her hands tremble, her gaze going blank," she sucks in a shaky breath, her heart clenching in her chest.

Panic begins to rise in Zelda's chest.

"Oh, darling," a hand wraps Cordelia's waist, pulling her closer to her side, "Whatever you did can't be that bad now, can it?", she turns towards her, and sees Cordelia's bottom lip wobble. She sniffles and lightly shakes her head as if she was struggling against herself. A part of her was telling her that she did the right thing, whereas the other was tormenting her for the choice she made, "I had to do something, I only wanted to know what she was hiding from me and from you, but then I couldn't help myself, I couldn't hold back, and dug deeper and deeper."

"Whatever do you mean?", Zelda frowns. She felt like she could use a cigarette, but she resisted for both your sake and Cordelia's.

"I read her mind," she whispers, eyes moist with tears, "her thoughts, her deepest desires. Everything."

"You did — what?"

Zelda wasn't expecting that. Her eyes snap wide open in utter disbelief. That was something she never expected the Supreme could do, considering it goes against her ethics and beliefs. However, she also acknowledges that for those you love, you're prone to break a rule or two. Truth be told, Zelda would tear Hell apart if it meant to protect her family, Cordelia or you.

"I had no other choice, and the worst part is that I'm not even sorry for that. I have no remorse because... because—" she recalls vividly everything she has felt and witnessed through your heart.

Zelda opens her mouth to say something, but Cordelia beats her to it, "I'm so happy, Zelda," she breathes out, turning completely towards her.

"I still don't understand," the redhead witch blinks in disbelief.

Cordelia cups Zelda's cheeks then, leaning further closer to the elder witch. Her heart stops only to restart at a breakneck speed. Her eyes fall on Cordelia's mouth as her teeth casually start nibbling on her bottom lip. She inhales sharply, her pupils grow darker with lust.

"Celeste is in love with us," a couple of tears fall from her eyes, when Cordelia whispers those magic words against Zelda's agape mouth.

She shudders. Cordelia grasps a single tear that has just slipped Zelda's eye, before wrapping her arms around her waist.

At once, she is a bunch of nerves, both shocked and incredulous. She feels like it's her turn to collapse, but Cordelia holds her.

That surely changes everything.

#american horror story #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode #cordelia goode x reader #zelda spellman x reader #zelda spellman imagines #zelda spellman x cordelia goode #caos #wlw

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writing-intheundercroft · 1 year

Text

Your Ivy Grows // Preparations

AO3 Link

Summary: Ominis Gaunt cannot see, but he can feel. He can feel the tall thickets of grass outside of his Aunt Noctua's house, now his for the summer. He can feel the sand down by the beach, the water of the tide pools, the overgrown ivy in Noctua's beloved garden. Most importantly, he can feel the gentle brush of his house guest's hand against his as they take their daily walk. He fears that he may feel much, much more for his new house guest.

Word Count: 4,223

Ominis wrinkled his nose. “Is it supposed to smell that bad?”

She laughed; he liked the sound of it.

“Yes, Ominis. It’s fertilizer, it smells bad. Are you sure you took herbology in school?” she inquired. He could sense her raised eyebrow–after a few weeks of living together, Ominis had easily picked up on her quirks.

“I did,” Ominis rolled his eyes. “But I didn’t say I actually listened in class.”

They had made a sizable dent in the rehabilitation of Aunt Noctua’s garden. Ominis had actually been quite worried with how he’d fill his time, but his houseguest kept him busy in the garden. So far, they’d cleaned up several garden beds, and were now moving on to prune the rose bushes.

“I think you should sit back for this one,” she huffed, kneeling down onto the dirt.

Ominis sighed loudly, rolling up his sleeves back up. “I think I’ve proven that I’m actually quite helpful, haven’t I?”

He could hear the shears snipping. “You are,” she admitted. “But there are some things out of your skillset.”

Ominis scoffed. “Try me,” he said, reaching forward, picking up the extra pair of shears. He wrapped his fingers around the head of a fully rose, fingers deftly moving downwards as he remembered what she’d said. He moved the shears down, carefully avoiding the thorns, and snipped at the instructed degree angle. The bloom fell into his open hand below.

“Well done,” she cheered. “You remembered.”

Ominis grinned, closing his fist around the stem. Now that was a mistake–the thorns pricked his hand, and he gasped.

“Damn,” he cursed, dropping the shears.

“Knew you’d gotten too cocky,” she tutted. “Stop moving–you’ll get blood all over your shirt. Here, give me your hand.” She reached across, pulling his hand away.

“You’ll get the blood all over yourself,” he scolded her.

“Better my apron than your nice shirt,” she examined his palm for any other pricks.

Ominis had expected her to wrap the fabric of her apron around his finger, but he felt an unfamiliar sensation. It took a few seconds to register, but she was bringing his pricked finger up to her mouth, closing her lips around it.

Oh , Ominis thought. Oh. He could feel his face heating up, embarrassed at the thought of her mouth around his appendage.

“All better,” she announced, letting him go. Ominis had never pulled his hand back faster, closing it into a tight fist.

“Thank you,” he stuttered, standing up. “But I should have Golly dress this properly.”

“Ominis,” she laughed. “You got pricked by a thorn, I promise you won't lose a finger to a tiny cut.”

He ignored her quip, hand still closed as he raised his wand to navigate back to the house as quickly as possible. Ominis could hear her calling out his name, but he ignored it as he raced back to the kitchens.

Golly was preparing their tea, and she let out a surprised yelp when the master of the house barged into her workspace. “Golly wasn’t expecting you back for another half hour,” she gasped.

“I pricked my finger,” Ominis mumbled.

“And you’re a grown man,” Golly teased. "Who will survive such a little wound." Ominis heard her hop down from the table. “Golly put your owl post in your chambers, by the way. A letter from your brother, specifically."

Scowling at her remark, Ominis took off, brushing his unblemished hand against the wall guiding himself to the backstairs. He wasn’t embarrassed about a pricked finger; he was embarrassed at the indecent thought that had passed through his mind when his houseguest pressed her lips to his finger. He may have been blind, but he was also just a man–one who had spent most of the last year in isolation, save for his roommate and best friend. And unlike said friend, Ominis preferred to deal with his needs alone, not trying to seduce any witch that came his way. It had honestly become quite annoying to live with Sebastian after he’d become the town flirt.

She meant nothing by it, he reminded himself. She was merely fixing a wound.

Ominis slammed the door shut behind him, loosening his collar. He collapsed into the desk chair, flicking his wand to summon the day’s post. Tapping the red flashing tip against the envelopes, the spell dictated who’d written each letter.

One from Sebastian, details his latest escapades in London. His mother had written, but he didn’t care much to hear from her. The last letter on the stack was from Marvolo. Letter was a bit of an exageration; it was a small card with the Gaunt family crest, and Marvolo's messy scribble on the other side.

Ominis–hosting a ball in London on Friday. 7pm at the house. Bring the girl.

Ominis tapped his wand against the card again, wondering if there were any other instructions. There were none–just his brother’s command to bring the woman to Marvolo's house in London.

“Are you upset with me?” She asked meekly, poking at her dinner plate.

Ominis choked on his water. “Why would you think that?”

“You didn’t come down for tea.” his houseguest murmured. “And you ran off from the garden.”

Ominis felt his face heating up again, and he shook his head. “It was nothing to do with you,” he reassured her. Well, that was partly a lie, but he didn’t want to ruin the good environment they’d created between one another. “I was expecting a letter from my brother,” he lied.

“Oh?” She asked, her fork scraping against the plate. “What does Marvolo have up his sleeve?”

Ominis’s lips curved upwards. “You’ll be happy about this, at least. He’s hosting a ball on Friday, and he’s asked us to come.”

There was a moment of hesitation, and then a sharp breath from the woman seated across from him. “Really?”

“Really, yes.” Ominis said.

She squealed, jumping out of the chair. Ominis laughed at her; he could sense her excitement as she danced around the dining table. He imagined it was quite a reprieve for her, after having been cooped up in the house for so long. It would be good for her to have company besides him.

Ominis startled as he felt her come up behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Oh Ominis, I’m so excited!” she exclaimed. “When do we leave?” she asked eagerly.

He shook his head. “We can leave Friday morning–I’ll arrange a carriage for us.” His hand trailed up, feeling her forearms. Ominis could feel the goosebumps on her skin. She released her grasp, and he wanted to protest the loss of heat. She settled back down in her seat, fingers now tapping on the table.

“Ominis?” she asked, her voice filled with trepidation. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything…anything nice enough to wear to a ball.” she admitted.

He mulled over the thought. Of course she didn’t. She hadn’t been presented to society, and likely had never attended a ball before.

“Do you know how to dance?” Ominis asked.

He could sense her nerves. “Uh, no, I don’t. Is there a lot to it?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.” He wrinkled his nose. “But I can teach you the basics.”

“Ominis Gaunt, a dancer?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know I’m a decent dancer. You’re lucky to have me as your instructor.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she snorted. “What will I wear?”

“Perhaps we can go to town together tomorrow.” He offered. “I’m sure there’s a dressmaker and we’ll find something for you to wear.” Ominis heard the legs of her chair scraping the floor again; she stood up, the fabric of her skirts twirling as she spun around the room. For the first time in their short few weeks together, she betrayed her age. His houseguest seemed so worldly, having spent so much of her life traveling the world–but now, she was pirouetting around the dining room, excited over her first social event.

“Ominis, I’m so excited, I can hardly contain myself.” She squeaked. “Stand, dance with me.” Golly was playing music faraway in the kitchens on her gramophone, and the sound of a waltz trickled into the dining room.

He felt her hands tugging at his shirt; Ominis laughed as he stood, his palms landing in hers. Perhaps he’d spoken too highly about his dancing prowess. Despite having some competence with the art of dancing, he’d never really enjoyed it–it was hard to do so when you feared stepping on toes and running into the walls. His mother had insisted he was trained before going to school, and he’d hated all of the dance instructors. It was only after Aunt Noctua urged him to learn that he stopped stomping his feet on the ground.

How do you expect to woo a woman someday if you can’t lead her in a dance?

“How should I stand?”

Ominis took her hand, placing it on his shoulder. “Lightly,” he advised. “And put your other hand in my palm.”

She did as instructed. Ominis could feel her breath on his cheek as she stood closely, and he stiffened. “What now?”

“We’ll start with a simple waltz.” Ominis said. “You’ll count in threes, like this. I’ll lead, you follow with your feet. One, two, three….one, two, three…” he repeated, gently guiding her as he took the lead. They slowly spun around, and her feet only tangled with his a few times. Eventually, after a few minutes and some giggles, she picked up on the steps.

“You’re a quick learner,” Ominis observed.

“You’re a good teacher.” She gripped his hand tighter. “And surprisingly, an excellent dancer.”

Ominis let out a bark of a laugh. “Alright, you can’t judge my entire dancing skills off one simple waltz. It was a pain to learn, especially blind. If Aunt Noctua hadn’t told me it was important, I probably would’ve sulked the entire time.”

“Did she?” his houseguest asked. “She was the one who taught you to dance?”

“Practiced with me a ton,” he admitted, as they twirled around the room once more. “I had an instructor at home, but I was here more often. She loved dancing at balls, it was her favorite part.”

“I like imagining you here as a young boy,” she teased. “You must have been awfully cute.”

Ominis fought the blush on his face; why was he always blushing in front of her? “Indeed, I was.” he said coyly, pretending her flattery wasn’t sending butterflies up his spine.

“She took great care of you, it seems. Your Aunt Noctua must have been a lovely woman.”

“She was the loveliest.” Ominis announced, gripping her waist tighter. His houseguest leaned into him, and he felt her hair tickling his skin.

She has curls , he realized. Ominis had never noticed that about her–her hair had always been pulled back into plaits, but it was now down, strands framing her face.

Ominis could make sense of what people looked like by touching them. Years of living with Sebastian was enough to understand that his best friend was devilishly handsome. He’d felt his face over the years, feeling his puffy cheeks hollow out, and then eventually the fuzz that became a beard. Anne, on the other hand, had always taken after the Sallow name having a sharp chin, with facial features that only became thinner as her curse wore on. But she was Annie to him, and her delicate features were always pretty to Ominis.

He understood that he looked very much like Aunt Noctua, taking after her with the pale features and bright blonde hair. His siblings were split, with Marvolo and his two elder sisters all having harsh dark eyes and raven colored hair. It was a wonder they were related at all.

He wanted to know what his houseguest looked like. They’d never spoken about her features before, and it seemed uncouth to ask. But they were spending quite a bit of time together now, Ominis thought, and he might even consider them being more than just acquaintances. Friends seemed a bit too much, considering he was holding her hostage, even if by proxy.

She had long curly hair. That was all Ominis Gaunt knew about her. He wanted to ask what color her hair was, and if he could feel her face too.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask, Ominis bumped into a pedestal, and she gasped as the sound of glass and water crashed on the floor. He frowned–he knew the house inside and out, every room included, and there had never been a pedestal there.

She tugged him away from the mess. “Stand back–I don’t want you to slip or step on glass.” Her hand pulled at his forearm back to his seat. “Golly, can you come in? With a broom, some rags, and a pail, please.”

“That’s new. I don’t recall–”

“I moved it there,” she said. She sounded far away, as if she were on the floor. “Yesterday. I wanted to put some of our roses in the dining room.” Ominis heard glass clatter on a napkin; she was picking up the pieces.

“Perhaps I’m not as good of a dancer as I’d thought.” Ominis mused, scratching his head. He rumpled his well-groomed hair. “Crashed right into a vase.”

“You’re excellent, Ominis.” she reminded him. “I look forward to dancing with you in a proper ballroom.”

Ominis felt ashamed to be sitting at the table while she cleaned the floor with Golly. He almost offered to continue their dance lesson, but with his wand back in hand, he saw the way her head lolled to the side. She was tired, so he bid her goodnight. Once she retired and the music was turned off, Ominis felt his way back up the stairs and into his new chambers.

That night, he dreamt of curly hair between his fingers.

“It looks dreadful.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Ominis assured her.

“You’re blind.” she scoffed.

She was right–Ominis was blind, and no help with dress shopping. The modiste had gone down into her storage room, looking for something nicer. They were in a quiet seaside town, where the fishermen had little time for balls, let alone social gatherings. The dressmaker didn’t have enough time to fashion a new ball gown from scratch, only having a few cotton day dresses in his houseguest’s size readily available.

“It’s all wrong,” she pouted. “It's so short, you can see my ankles. I can’t wear this. I might as well not go.” she said wearily.

“Nonsense. You have to go,” Ominis reminded her. Truthfully, it didn’t matter if she wanted to stay home or not. Marvolo had demanded it in his note, so her attendance was non-negotiable.

Ominis heard the footsteps of the dressmaker; he clutched the useless cane in his right hand, wishing he had his wand instead.

“I’m sorry, miss.” The dressmaker said sheepishly. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything more luxurious in your size. If I only had a week or two, I could rush a dress, but I’m afraid that’s the nicest we’ve got.”

His houseguest let out a long puff of air. “That’s okay. I’ll manage with what I have at home.” Ominis could sense the disappointment dripping from her lips as she stepped off the pedestal, heading back into the changing room. It only took a few minutes for her to slip her simple day dress back on, and the two departed the store without a gown.

“I suppose I could wear my green dress,” she mused, clutching Ominis’s arm. “Perhaps a shawl could liven it up.”

Ominis let the quiet pass between them for a few moments, with only the noise of birds and the crunching of twigs under their feet to fill the air.

“There may be another option,” he admitted. “If you don’t mind wearing something a bit…vintage.” They were deep in the forest now, with no muggles nearby to disturb them. He reached into his vest pocket, pulling out his wand. Again, as he did every day they went into town, he shivered when his senses returned to him.

“Oh?” she asked, walking ahead of him. He could make sense of her shape ahead of him, the way she lifted her skirts to jump over a log on their path back to the house. He tucked his cane under his armpit as she held her hand out to help him over.

“Aunt Noctua used to go to a fair amount of parties. I’m sure we could find something in her dressing room.” It was one of the few rules Ominis had to follow whenever he stayed at Aunt Noctua’s house–her dressing room was a sacred space, and he was only ever allowed in while she herself was getting ready for parties. She had been so young , Ominis thought, to be raising a little boy. In hindsight, he felt bad for Aunt Noctua. She should’ve been a wife, a mother, yet she was always taking care of Ominis. Aunt Noctua had put aside her happiness, any chance of courtship, to become his governess.

“Would that be alright with you?” she asked slowly. After weeks of living together, she’d come to understand the sensitivities he had around his aunt. Ominis actually found it quite endearing how she worried; not many people cared about his emotions besides Sebastian.

“I think she’d like to see her dresses have another life.” Ominis said fondly.

“And you won’t shriek at me the way you did the night in the garden?” She teased. "You made it quite obvious how you feel about strangers messing with your aunt's things."

Ominis rolled his eyes. “I said I was sorry. I trust you; I didn't know you then.”

“You know me now,” she said cheerfully. Despite Ominis having his wand and not needing her guidance anymore, she slipped her arm through his. “Well, let’s see what this closet has to give.”

They walked in comfortable silence back to the house; it was empty, with no sign of Golly.

“She’s probably in the kitchens,” Ominis suggested. “Come, follow me.” For the first time, he held his hand out to her. She grasped it in return without hesitation, and Ominis ran his thumb over her hand as they walked. She had long slender fingers, and her palm was so warm.

“Where are we going?”

“My Aunt Noctua kept her finer dresses and jewelry in a hidden room,” Ominis tugged her down the hallway, stopping in front of a portrait of a unicorn. “My sisters had sticky fingers growing up, so she kept everything hidden away. I’m pretty sure Golly and I are the only ones to know how to unlock it.” He lifted his wand, wordlessly casting the incantation, and the door swung open. Ominis thought back to the months that followed Noctua’s disappearance; at first, his father moaned and groaned about it, claiming she was avoiding the family. After six months, they finally got concerned and started sending search parties. A year later, Ominis’s mother and sisters were going through the house, picking through Noctua’s jewelry box. The only consolation was that his family had missed the portrait door entirely, leaving Noctua’s treasures untouched.

Ominis helped her climb through the portrait door, and he ran into her as she paused, gasping at the volume of clothes and jewelry hidden away in the room. He didn’t need his wand to find the old wingback chair he used to sit on while Noctua powdered her face; he sank into it, crossing his legs.

“Well, go on. Take a look, see if anything fits.” Ominis waved her off.

“Ominis, what on earth was your aunt doing with all of these dresses?” she asked. He could hear her rifling through trunks, pulling at the gowns which had been carefully stowed away.

“She was popular,” Ominis shrugged. “Always at balls and dances when I wasn’t staying with her. Besides, my father wanted to see her married off, so he spared no expense on her wardrobe during the season.” He heard shuffling, the sound of fabric pooling on the floor, and strings untying; he furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you…are you changing?”

She laughed. “Does that bother you? Ominis, you’re blind.”

He gripped the arms of the chair, blushing as he faced what he hoped was the wall. “You’re a lady!” he sputtered. “I should go–”

“Don’t be such a prude. We’re friends ,” she enunciated. “Now, come here and lace me up, why don’t you?”

Ominis tip toed over to her, his face burning red with embarrassment. “I didn’t realize you thought we were friends.”

“You’ve been my only friend for almost two months now,” she pointed out. Just from the change of her tone, he could sense the frown on her lips. “Would you not consider us so?”

He paused, holding his hands out to tentatively grab the laces of the gown. “No, we are.” he said slowly. “We’re friends.”

“Good. I’d be awfully upset if we weren’t.” she mused. “You can pull tighter, you know.” She put her hands on her hips, steadying them. “Tighter than that, put your back into it.”

Ominis pulled at the strings, tying them into a tight bow at the small of her back. Her curls brushed against his nose; she smelled like violets.

“There,” he whispered, his hands brushing over the swell of her hips, his fingers grasping at the long ribbon falling down her back. “What do you think?”

He could hear the silk swishing as she turned from side to side. “I look like a lady,” she mused. “Proper. Merlin’s beard, your aunt was thin. If I breathe any harder, the beads will go flying.”

He inhaled sharply. If she were really a lady, it would be improper for him to have been in the room while she got dressed. It would be inappropriate to be standing behind her, close enough to smell her perfume on her hair. It would be even more inappropriate for him to ask if he could touch her face, to satiate his desire to know what she bloody looked like–

“Tell me about the dress,” Ominis whispered. His hands hovered over her hips, nose touching her hair.

“What do you want to know?” She asked. Her voice sounded…different. Smug, almost. Ominis would’ve put more thought into it had he not been so enchanted by the smell of her.

“Just tell me about it.” he croaked, his voice cracking as her scent overtook his senses. “What it looks like.”

He could hear the fabric swishing. “It’s light blue…satin, I think. I’ve never worn something so nice before.” she paused. “You can touch it.”

His hands firmly planted on her waist, feeling the slippery fabric, and more importantly, the feel of her body beneath it. They had to have been standing in front of the mirror; her head tilted, and Ominis nearly protested the loss of her perfume on his nose. She turned towards him, and his hands skimmed the edge of the cloth as she spun.

Ominis swallowed thickly. “May I feel your face?”

“Of course.” she murmured. She put her hand over his, gently guiding it to her cheeks. Ominis squeezed his eyes shut as he mapped it out–round cheeks (he hoped she blushed just as much as he did), a narrow nose, and soft lips. His thumb lingered over them, brushing them as he remembered the sensation of her lips around his finger the day before. As if she were reading his mind, her lips slightly parted.

It would be most ungentlemanly of him to slip a digit past them, but he yearned for the sensation again. Ominis’s thumb rested on her lips, and his breath hitched as she opened wider.

“There you two are!”

Ominis nearly jumped out of his skin, launching himself away from his houseguest. She coughed, hiding her laugh as Golly padded into the room. She set a basket down on the floor; probably her sewing kit. Even though he couldn’t see, Ominis knew Golly would have a suspicious look on her face.

“Golly sees the two of you have dug into Madame Noctua’s closet,” Golly announced. “She assumes dress shopping did not go well.”

“It did not,” his houseguest said, the sound of silk swishing again. “But I think this one looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“You have the figure for it,” Golly tutted. “Blue is your color. She looks beautiful, Master Ominis; with a few modifications, she’ll be ready for the ball.”

“Of course.” Ominis stuttered. “I’ll leave you two to sort out the details. If you need me, I’ll be in my chambers.” Without another word, he raised his wand and nearly sprinted from the room. He never needed his wand to navigate through the house, but he felt far too flustered to take a slow walk down the hallway. Ominis’s legs were moving faster than he thought they could, carrying him as far away from his guest as possible.

Once alone in his room, he slammed the door shut. Ominis began pacing, trying to calm himself.

She was his guest, his ward. Ominis was supposed to be supervising the woman on Marvolo’s orders, and yet here he was, acting undignified towards her. His task aside, she had called him a friend. Ominis didn’t have many of those, and he didn’t want to risk ruining their good rapport with his silly notions. Sebastian had been right; Ominis had been alone for far too long. Anything would be alluring if you’d gone too long without a woman. That had to be it.

She’s not yours to think of, Ominis reminded himself. Not yours.

#writing-intheundercroft #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x oc #ominis gaunt fanfiction

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