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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

tw. serious self loathing

kenma hated hospitals.

the cold sterile air, the incessant beeping of machines, the loud voices of the doctors — mix it all together and you get the perfect recipe for kicking up kenma’s anxiety.

it was bad enough, what with you being the one in the hospital bed, tied up to all those machines but all the other more extraneous details certainly didn’t help.

kenma’s eyes darted around the white hallway, his knee bouncing erratically as he tried to listen in through the door at what the doctor was saying. earlier, when he had tried to follow behind the rest of the house members to get your diagnosis, he was stopped by kuroo’s hand on his chest and a sad shake of his head.

he’d made his way back to the cold, unforgiving seats lining the hall right outside your room and attempted to overhear, something, anything, that would abate his anxieties.

unfortunately, the conversation was over before kenma could glean anything of substance, the door swinging open as the doctor exited, the atmosphere left in the room being tense and uncomfortable.

kenma quickly stood to his feet, glancing from face to face to discern some kind of news, be it good or bad. “w-what— is she okay? what’s going on?” as much as he willed it not to shake, his voice cracked in the middle of his sentence, his fear for you clearly bleeding into his words.

at the sound of his broken voice, all heads in the room turned towards him. he scanned all their faces but his eyes were stuck on atsumu’s, his own burning with a righteous fury.

before kenma could blink, atsumu was on him, shoving him up against the wall while pressing an arm against his chest. the thumping in kenma’s chest intensified, his eyes widening in dread as his breathing quickened.

he could faintly hear the sounds of protests from the other house members and off-duty nurses but they were swiftly becoming drowned out by the blood and static rushing in his ears.

“atsumu. step down.” sakusa gritted before yanking atsumu off of kenma, allowing kenma to collapse onto the floor. the residual adrenaline and anxiety came to the point they were overwhelming, his breath coming in short pants as he tears leaked from his eyes.

“i-i’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, i didn’t know, thought that it would be ok, thought she would be okay but she’s not, oh god this is all my fault, i’m sorry, m sorry,” his words came out like a broken faucet before he couldn’t stop them, his arms wrapping around himself as he rolled into the fetal position, determined to erase himself from his surroundings.

a presence appeared in front of him, crouching down and grabbing his hands before where they were digging into his skin, cradling them gently within their own. “hey bud,” bokuto said kindly, a big smile on his face despite the circumstances. “breathe with me, ok?”

kenma nodded before matching bokuto’s exaggerated breathing, in and out, in and out, until his heartbeat was finally back to normal and he didn’t feel like he was going to collapse. “you wanna tell us what happened?”

he firmly kept his gaze on bokuto, determined not to look at everyone else’s scared, angry, or hurt expressions as he explained himself. “i-i saw yn g-go to the bathroom and it was fine because o-of course it was but then i s-saw meiko follow and it d-didn’t register? it happened so f-fast and then i got distracted and it e-escaped my mind until y-you guys brought it up. i j-just— i didn’t think m-meiko was gonna do anything. we were in public and—“

“that won’t stop her.” kenma chanced a look at suga who was the one who spoke, his eyes downcast and stormy with anger and... sadness?. “you didn’t know and that’s whatever, but meiko is fucking crazy. never underestimate her again.” he warned with a grave tone. all kenma could do was nod, a fresh wave of tears coming to his eyes.

“‘m sorry,” he whimpered, his gaze falling upon the white lines on his suit pants. the group let out hums of acknowledgment before falling back into a tense silence, the only sounds coming from the hospital around them.

it didn’t last very long.

“yn! yn!” a deep masculine voice rang from the entrance of the hospital, followed by a quieter platitude and then a host of shushes from the nurse on the floor. the taller man with dark hair managed to lock eyes with kenma, his body moving quickly until he was right in front of the group.

“i need to see her. now.” the man’s voice was dark and menacing but kenma was the only one who seemed to shrink at the sound, the others sizing the outsider up and glaring him down. atsumu waved them away before bringing the pair into a hug, the shorter pink-haired man sighing deeply into the embrace.

atsumu exchanged short “pleasantries” with the two newcomers before turning towards your door wistfully. “uh, ya will be able ta see her soon enough but her throat is fucked pretty badly. she’s asleep right now but doc says she won’t be able to talk for at least a week.”

kenma’s heart caught in his throat. you wouldn’t be able to speak?? because of him?? the thought made him clam back up, his dark hair spilling over his shoulders to shield him from the rest of the hall. he could hear more voices, a door clicking open, a soft gasp, and a growled threat but he was too strung up to focus any more than that.

my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault, played over and over on repeat in his mind, his inner demons taunting him for ruining your life. you would never forgive him, never lay your eyes upon him again without showing disgust and disdain. it was what he deserved, especially after the hell he put you through, no matter how much it hurt.

he faintly recognized at some point in his self loathing, that he was moving somewhere with the group, their hands on him as though they were leading him someplace, not that it mattered.

kenma already knew he was a horrible waste of space and this cemented it for him. but, his mind so helpfully offered, even if you are a piece of shit, you can still do something, something big. make meiko pay for how she hurt you and suga and the rest of them.

oh, he was going to do something alright. he was going to do something so large, so enormous that meiko’s reputation could never, ever recover.

kenma was absolutely going to get his revenge. not for him, no, he could care less about himself. no, he would do it for you and all those who had suffered by her hand.

after all, it was the very least he could do.

℗ poker face

the least he could do

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an - i feel so horrible today so i don’t have much to write here??? KJSSN ty for reading n don’t forget to feed me <333

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captains-simp · 3 years

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Can I get a request where Yelena's dating R and has been for a while because things are going great but Natasha (being the protective big sister she is) realllllyyyy doesn't like R and R keeps making things worse because Nat intimidates her and all bdaksnakwk😭 and she finally accepts R when she gets caught up in a mission somehow and almost dies for Yelena🥺

Nat simps: Nat doesn't like the relationship because she's jealous

Me: n-no

Nat simps: she actually loves R😃

Me: guys no-

Nat simps: but-

Me: N O

(You guys are getting a big Natasha fic after this, calm your tits🙄)

3.6k words

Warnings: graphic injury description, implied torture and murder

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"My sister does not hate you." Yelena chuckled as she opened the car door and stepped out. You stayed put for a second, staring up at the Avenger's tower as you chewed your lower lip.

"She definitely does." You mumbled as you stepped out of the car yourself. Yelena held her hand out for you to take, marginally helping your nerves when she gave it a reassuring squeeze. She noticed your silence and tried again.

"Okay maybe she's not your biggest fan right now but she'll warm up to you. I did." The blonde winked. You bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. "The others sure as hell love you." You hummed in response, you couldn't argue with that. You got on with the other heroes like a house on fire. "And I love you." Yelena said earnestly as you stopped outside the main door for your girlfriend to plant a soft, quick, kiss on your lips.

"I love you too." You said with a smile.

"There she is." She grinned back as she stroked your cheek with her index finger. "Now come on, I'm starving."

"You ate that bag of M&Ms in the car." You laughed as Yelena led you through the building. The blonde scoffed.

"They only half fill them, y/n." She complained. "So it was half a bag." It was hard to argue with that logic.

You made your way through to the top floor of the building, all while holding onto the expensive wine bottle you bought. Your hands were sweating so much so you held onto the bottle with both hands, not trusting your grip. The last thing you needed was to smash it on any of Tony's expensive carpets. You were met with a round of laughter when the elevator doors opened, presenting the Avengers all sat around the living area. Their eyes turned to you and Yelena with wide smiles and they all shouted hellos across the room. Wanda gave you a warm hug as Yelena high fived Bucky and you felt your nerves soften.

"She's just finishing up." Wanda said knowingly. You wondered for a brief second if she had taken a peek into your mind but when you looked at the redhead she was smiling reassuringly at you and you realized it must have been obvious that you were anxious to see her again. Unlike Yelena, everyone else could tell you were Natasha's least favourite person. "For what it's worth she seems to be in a pretty good mood tonight." Wanda assured.

"Whose in a pretty good mood tonight?" Came the voice you had been dreading to hear. Natasha strolled into the living room with a content smile on her face but halted in her tracks once she saw you. You locked eyes for longer than you were comfortable with but you were determined not to look away. Sometimes you thought that if you asserted yourself more then maybe Natasha would at least respect you. Today wasn't the day for that because you looked away quicker than you would have hoped to. In your defence, it was really hard to maintain eye contact with the Black Widow.

"What's she doing here?" Natasha spat. Oh. You winced as you rubbed the back of your neck, clearly the Russian wasn't aware that you were attending the dinner too.

"I told you she was coming." Yelena said as she strolled towards her sister and gave her a bear hug. Natasha continued to glare at you from over her sister's shoulder.

"I thought you were meant to be on a mission."

"Luckily it was over by lunch." You smiled weakly. "Meant there was still brownie left in the cafeteria." You laughed awkwardly but Natasha didn't respond.

"If you want, I could give you the recipe for my brownies." Wanda said in an attempt to ease the overwhelming tension in the room. The Sokovian was always the best at that and you were sure it was entirely down to her calm demeanour.

"Really?" You asked hopefully as you all made your way to the dinner table. You avoided Natasha's eyes the whole time but consequently ended up taking a seat opposite her. You froze when you sat down, already under her heated gaze once again. You gulped thickly and turned to Yelena while you tried to ignore the pair of emerald eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

The rest of the dinner wasn't altogether awkward but it wasn't the most comfortable you'd ever been. Natasha didn't acknowledge you, though it was rare that she did, and you both engaged in separate conversations with the rest of the team. You had never known if there was a particular reason the redhead didn't like you. You guessed it was down to her being protective of her little sister, something you could understand given all they had been through. But you would never hurt your girlfriend, in fact you would do anything to avoid that. So it bothered you that there was nothing you could do to sway Natasha's opinion of you, because you had literally tried everything. You had been dating her sister for six months. Surely if she was going to accept you it would have happened already.

When dinner was finished Natasha excused herself as Yelena picked up some plates and took them to the kitchen. You were hooked on a story Sam was telling when they left, both your elbows on the table as your face rested in your hands, eagerly waiting for Sam to reveal how he was able to escape a whole squadron of planes with a malfunctioning suit. As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, you didn’t get to experience half the things the Avengers did. Sure, you had had some crazy missions and your fair share of close calls, but their stories always won.

Once Sam dramatically finished his story with some over the top sound effects, you noticed Yelena had missed a few plates and still wasn’t back. With the dishes in your hands, you made your way to the kitchen, soon hearing the strong accent of your girlfriend. “You're being unfair.” She scolded with a hushed aggression.

“I’m trying to protect you, Lena.” Natasha’s voice fired back. Your ears pricked up at the verb and you were unsure of whether or not to leave the plates on a near table and go or stay to hear about the apparent threat your girlfriend was facing. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

“Oh and you’ve never done something reckless?” Reckless. That was a word you had seen in your S.H.I.E.L.D assessment reports enough times to get a vague idea of who the pair were talking about. Natasha being on the opposing side proved the point more. “When will you drop this?”

“You couldn’t have just dated a normal civilian? Or at least an agent that manages to not get themselves in harm's way on the way to the paper copier.” Well that was hardly accurate. S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t use paper copiers.

“You know maybe if you spent less time being a bitch to her and more time actually getting to know her you would understand why I love her.” Yelena said in a more disappointed tone, most of the frustration drained away from exhaustion. You wondered how long they had been talking about this. Or if they had before. Yelena always acted like there wasn’t any tension between you and her sister. Maybe she thought if she ignored it things would sort themselves out.

There was a heavy silence over the room so with a pang of guilt, you stepped out from behind the wall with the plates still in your hands, fauxing mild surprise when you saw them both, like you didn’t even know they were still there. If they saw through your act, they didn’t say anything. “Thanks, just put them there.” The blonde smiled and pointed at the counter near her. Natasha stayed silent as she watched you from the other side of the room. It always felt like she was studying you for any sign of a weakness when she looked at you, waiting to spot something she could use to strike.

“You need a hand?” You asked as you spied the excessive bubbles in the sink that coaxed your girlfriend’s forearms. “Before you break something.” You joked and watched as Yelena’s cheeks tinted pink as she remembered the shattered glass in the bin at home.

“She’s capable.” Natasha interrupted with stone cold glare.

“That’s okay, detka (babe).” Yelena mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I’m just finishing up.” She said before looking briefly at her sister. “Then we’re going.”

To no surprise of your own, Natasha didn’t get any friendly towards you after what you could only assume wasn’t the first discussion the sister’s had had about you. In fact it got considerably worse; not straight away though, that came a few weeks after when the pair came rushing into the cafeteria. Yelena marched in the room with her eyes set on you as the redhead followed by her side, exclaiming something wildly with her hands.

“This is insane. Yelena!” Unfortunately for Natasha, her sister’s stubbornness fiercely rivaled her own.

“Hey, detka.” Yelena smiled as she sat down on the seat in front of you. You gave a small wave as you finished chewing your sandwich, eyeing the pair cautiously. Natasha continued to stand with her arms crossed, mumbling under her breath in Russian. “You busy now?”

“Not really.” You shrugged and brushed the crumbs off your hands.

“Yelena, no.”

“Zamolchi (shut up)!” The blonde fired back. “That’s great,I could really use a hand on a mission.”

“I will go with you.” Natasha insisted but Yelena shooed her away distractedly. “They know who you are, it won’t work.” She hissed.

“That’s why disguises exist!” Natasha yelled, gaining the attention of every other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the room.

“It won’t work.” Your girlfriend said firmly, her choice was already made and set in stone.

“Okay.” You shrugged and immediately fell under Natasha’s most heated glare.

“Don’t you dare.” She gritted. “There are thousands of agents in this base alone and you’re picking the single most reckless one who will get you killed.” The redhead continued but Yelena, unlike you, wasn’t fazed.

“Great, go pack your stuff.” Yelena cheered.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t fucking move.” Your body betrayed you, keeping you glued to your seat in fear of what method, of the hundreds the widow knew, she would choose to kill you if you stood up.

“I don’t trust anyone else to do this.” Yelena said earnestly to her sister. Natasha considered her sister carefully but still looked unconvinced when her younger sister gave a frustrated huff and took you by the hand to drag you to your feet and past her sister who surprisingly didn’t follow after you both.

As your girlfriend led you down the halls she explained the basis of the mission, telling you how you were to set up a last minute buy with a high profile weapons smuggler. Annoyingly, that was how he worked, telling buyers the location and time of a deal at the last minute. Beneficially, he was a smug prick who only believed in carrying out deals on his own. While he would be armed, there would be no one else with him, making yours and Yelena’s job easier. Yelena was the sniper, shooting to kill. S.H.I.E.L.D had tried apprehending the guy alive but it always ended in casualties and they were finally done with going easy.

You considered it all when you were changing into the outfit Yelena had given you, planning what exactly you could say to the dealer to get him to the specific part of the warehouse that Yelena could shoot at. You were buttoning up your white blouse when the door swung open and Natasha stepped through. “You sure you can handle this?” She asked right off the bat.

“I’ve been through my training just like everyone else here, Natasha. I know you don’t think I’m capable but I’ve been on my fair share of missions and I know protocol and-”

“Just keep her safe.” The Russian said. You blinked and opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“I don’t care if Baros comes out of there in a body bag or in a limo.” You blinked again and continued with your shirt as you decided to just listen to Natasha. “But if one hair on Yelena’s head is harmed I will make you live to regret it for the remainder of your long and very painful days.” She said darkly and you could only nod dumbly. Natasha studied you for a long moment before turning around to head out of the room far less dramatically as she had entered.

“She trusts me for a reason.” You couldn’t help but call out as the redhead opened the door. She glanced at you for a second and left as she called over her shoulder to you.

“I don’t.”

“Do you want to get take out tonight? I was thinking that new Chinese place around the corner.” Yelena spoke clearly but she might as well have been thinking aloud because you couldn’t respond. She knew that of course. She knew that you speaking would ruin your cover if Baros had cameras set up around you. “So that’s a yes on the Chinese?” She continued. Okay she was definitely doing it because she knew you couldn’t respond. “Detka there’s no need for you to insist on paying. I owe you one right now.” You bit back a smile until the warehouse doors opened and Baros stepped through, watching you eagerly.

“So nice of you to join me.” You deadpanned. You couldn’t help it. The guy literally chose the time and he was still half an hour late.

“Yes, my apologies.” Baros said in a very unapologetic tone. “Something came up.” He muttered as he placed a large box on the table and unlocked it with an 8 digit code although you were sure there was a lot more to it than that. Not that you cared about his weapons right now. “Now I hear I have something you’re interested in.”

With that, the sale began. At first you thought you were in luck. Baros made a habit of strolling around the room as he explained various weapons that you pretended to be interested in, but he never went to the spot Yelena could shoot. It became irritating very quickly. You walked around too in an attempt to lead him to wear you needed him but he always backed off at the last second. You heard Yelena groan into the earpiece a few times too.

“Is there anything here that’s of interest to you? Or are you more concerned with listening to whoever’s on the other end of that earpiece?” Your eyes snapped to Baros as he watched you curiously. “Where is she?” He asked coldly. Your earpiece wasn’t meant to be visible and the thought that Baros had found a way to get around S.H.I.E.L.D’s technology concerned you greatly.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, I’m here alone.” You swallowed thickly. Baros gave a throaty laugh in response, some primal hunting impulse starting up.

“I’ve killed every S.H.I.E.L.D agent that has come after me, you and your friend will be no different. Now where is she?”

You wanted to charge at Baros. To knock him to the ground and wrap your hands tightly around his throat and squeeze long and tight enough to make him regret ever threatening your girlfriend. Except you couldn’t move. It wasn’t a fear induced freeze up like you had gotten from Natasha’s glares a few times. There was a much larger and more dangerous obstacle that stopped you moving. Something toxic. Baros gave another manic laugh as he watched that realisation dawn on you. But really, what was panicking you most was that Yelena had been silent for a long time.

“You see, Agent l/n, while you were trying your hardest to get me to play your game, I was beating you at my own. I’ve grown immune to the toxin that’s been circulating the room since your arrival.” You trembled as you dropped to your knees and fell onto your side, only able to watch and listen. “And what your friend sees is a mere projection of us continuing business, audio included of course, so she won’t be coming to get you anytime soon.” You exhaled as heavily as you could in relief at the knowledge that Yelena was safe.

“Now where were we?” Baros asked as he knelt down besides you and lifted your head up, placing the flat of a blade against your cheek. “Oh yes, you were just about to tell me about the other one.”

“Go...to...hell.” You grimace, every word spoken feeling like one of the hardest things you had ever done.

“I’m sure you’ll feel as though you’re there very shortly.” He muttered as the knife very slowly started to dig into your skin.

You had no idea how long you were with Baros, how long since he had first started slicing your skin, how long your bones had been broken or even how long since you had first started to cough up blood, most of it staying in your mouth because of your weak diaphragm. You had exceeded your limit long ago, only using your energy to make the occasional snarky comment that made the next attack harsher. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It made you feel like you had some control, as did the fact that you never said a word about Yelena.

A gargled scream was ripped from you when Baros pressed the burning hot knife against your latest stab wound, cauterising it to stop you bleeding out and keep you alive for as long as he needed you. A sickening smile crept onto his lips as he watched your eyes fill with tears once again and leant back once he was done. Much to your long awaited relief, that smile was wiped from his face when a spray of red erupted in front of you, shortly followed by Baros dropping to the ground next to you, dead on the spot he had accidentally stood in.

You didn’t trust your relief, you didn’t trust yourself not to be hallucinated after the endless hours of torture, even when a heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D team flooded into the room. A few gathered around you, asking questions you couldn’t quite understand as bright white lights filled your vision. Then you were being lifted into the air, not aware of the fabric of the stretcher beneath you until the back of your hand dropped onto it. You managed a small trace of a smile before you passed out.

There was an arm draped across your stomach when you woke up. It was the first thing you felt, a fact that you were extremely grateful for. You blinked frantically a few times before you turned to look at your girlfriend sleeping by your side on the hospital bed. You smiled at the sight of her peaceful form and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear softly, careful not to wake her. You were glad you cherished that moment of peace and relief, because it wasn’t long before you had more company.

You took your hand away from Yelena’s face when Natasha walked in, settling to keep it by your side, although there was nothing you could do about the arm that was squished between yours and your girlfriend’s body. “I tried my best-” you started but Natasha shook her head.

“You...you did great, y/n.” You smiled sheepishly, sure there were some drugs in your system. “No one could have done any better.” She said as her eyes flickered to the cuts on your face. “So thank you.”

“It was no trouble at all.” You shrugged. Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, something you never thought you would see directed at you. “I’d never let anything happen to her.” You said honestly. The redhead nodded as she looked at her sister.

“I know that now. I was just scared, I can’t loose her again and you have to admit you’re not the most reliable person on the planet.” You blushed and looked away. “But I trust you now and I’m sorry I doubted you.” She apologised sincerely.

“No harm, no foul.” You joked again, truly not knowing how you were meant to act around the Russian now that you were finally in her good books.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Natasha warned with a smirk. You chuckled lightly and watched as she made to leave. “You should get some rest.” She advised and you nodded but frowned when she was nearly out the door.

“How’d she know?” You asked, making Natasha turn back to you with a quirk of her brow. “That something wasn’t right.” The redhead smiled and shook her head.

“You hadn’t made a smart ass comment in ten minutes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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magicpumpkin3 · 3 years

Note

Hello, I have read dorm leaders vs spider and it really cute 😉 can you do vice dorm leaders verson? Thank you 💕

Note: Sure thing! I'm glad you found it cute UwU

Dorm leaders one ←

Trey Clover

Trey asked you out on a date to bake with him, since you liked he's sweets so much, he decided to share some recipes in the process. What he did not expect is to hear your scream, like there's an overbolt happening!

Rushing inside, this man is ready to throw hands. He will not hesitate, Trey loves you dearly and will protect you from-..…………..The spider.

At first he's a bit confused but he gets the spider outside once you let out another screech of terror. He's amused by your reaction to that fella though. Sure he doesn't like spiders in house too but that's a whole new level.

Trey will attempt to comfort you afterwards. He'll make some tea, ask how are you feeling and etc. If you wish to change the subject, he'll just tell a funny incidents with ADeuce duo that you didn't see yourself.

Trey won't judge you or tease you about it. He isn't found of those creaters either. He will make a mental note about it though. Be assured that whenever you're on his territory there are no spiders. Like at all. He doesn't want he's sweetheart to be scared.

Jade Leech

Normally, Jade isn't the one to brake into someone's house without a huge need or someone not following the contract conditions but when he heard his beloved one screaming in fear, he isn't hesitating.

Jade broke in, with a mischievous smile placed on his face, ready to beat the living Seven out of the idiot that decided to harm you. So when he saw you pressed into a corner of your own room with all your being, he certainly didn't expect it to be just because of a mere spider.

Oh? It was just a spider? Oya oya~. He'll get rid of the thing don't worry, it's just...well you'll have have to pay the price of his service. You'll discuss it later though~.

Jade, like Trey will try to comfort you. A bit differently but he'll still try. Jade would just say that the 'disgusting creater' is gone now, there's nothing to worry about, he'll protect you and etc. He'll also take a mental note about your reaction to that arachnid fella. Jade won't tell you but he's always making sure that there're no spider around 24/7.

And about the payment for his service...After you're calm and happy with everything self, that sly eel will tease you. No, more like Tease You. So, eh...good luck?

Rook Hunt

Bold of you to assume that he isn't by your side as soon as you let out the first yelp. He was just strolling by stalking you, when he heard you let out a terrified yelp.

Rook has a certain reputation about being a wonderful hunter and knowing everything about everyone, so the one that scared or harmed you had some nuts for this. Even for a spider. He isn't very surprised with your fear of them he saw you being terrified of anything close to being a spider while he was stalking you.

As extra as he is, Rook will shoot it with an arrow. That's right, he's that extra when it comes to you. Rook, like a gentleman that he is, will try to comfort you afterwards. It's different from previous vice dorm leaders, he'll tell you how wonderful you're, how brave you're and basically praising you in anyway possible.

Rook as observant as he is, still takes a few mental notes. He didn't really expect you to be scared of those little fellas like that. Like Jade, Rook will tease you a bit but not like that eel. He'll lightly remind you about it, by randomly bringing it into a conversation as a pleasant memory of his dear or something like that. Unlike Jade though, he knows when to stop.

Jamil Viper

Oh boi-. I'll be frank with you, screaming for someone for help with a spider or anything close to insects, knowing that Jamil is the closest one isn't the smart move ain't blaming you though. Jamil will save you from anything and anyone, at least that's what he thought when he rushed into your room.

You were screaming, standing on your table, yelling for some help, which distracted him, as Jamil got close to you he then he saw the spider. Congratulations! Now it's both if you on the table screaming, clinging to one another for your lifes.

Watching from aside, it was....well- Jamil was trying to shot his magic to destroy the spider, while you were clinging to his arm. After sometime he gave up one the magic and started to throw objects. Well...that didn't go very well. So you both just screamed your asses off and then Kalim came in- Poor dorm leader probably went deaf! He got rid of a spider but that doesn't mean that you and Jamil will get down from the table until you're hundreds percent sure there aren't any spiders left.

Afterwards, you both just sit down on a soft pillows and cling to one another. Therapy session for both if you, that's for sure. Later, Kalim had to deal with your attempts to burn down the place, it had spiders in it, so-. There isn't much to say about Jamil honestly, He's just like terrified of those creaters, so both of you have a bugkiller spray 24/7 with you.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia as suddenly popping out of blue as he is, was so glad to have that ability right now. He'll recognise your yellings anywhere mostly because he caused them most of the time by appearing out of nowhere, so don't get even more freaked out when he appeared.

Even though Lilia looks harmless, don't forget! That mf went through a war. A War. So he's prepared to knock some sense into whoever decided to mess with you. But finding out that it's just a mere spider, he immediately calms down a bit. Cheeky as ever, he gets it away from you.

Coming back to you, with a smug smile plastered on his face, Lilia would comfort and tease you a bit. It's mostly comforting from his side though. If anything, Lilia will tease you later.

He definitely took some mental notes. He saw you acting strange in Diasomnia and other places that looked like they had spiders and know he's hundred percent sure why. He'll make sure to check everything before inviting you to the his dorm or anything that has a risk if being filled with spiders. Lilia doesn't want his dear human screaming because of a spider!

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weaselle · 4 years

Text

cooking for people who have no idea what they are doing (or are just, like, real depressed)

Okay, I’m a professional cook, but also, I get depressed. This is the cooking I do when I’m depressed, because I need the simplest path to a whole meal.

This is not for vegetarians, because, while I wholeheartedly support people choosing vegetarianism, and also enjoy cooking for vegetarians, for me, the simplest path to a meal includes meat. Perhaps when I am less depressed I will work on options.

A lot of recipes focus on achieving food that is in some way special, using special techniques, or using a precise list of carefully measured high-end ingredients... and that’s not this, this is all the parts of cooking that are not those things.

First, shopping

Meats Starches Veggies Sauces Breakfast/Snack

For a whole week you’re going to want

3 kinds of meat, with five portions each. So, for example, five chicken breasts, 10 sausage links, and 2-3 pounds of ground beef. Other possibilities include pork chops, salmon, some kind of steak, whatever.

You’re going to want up to 3 starches. Honestly I usually stick to just rice, but you can go with rice, potatoes, and pasta. If you want to use quinoa or polenta or something, thats on you.

And, you’re going to want about 3 types of vegetables, again, about 5 portions each -- and try to stay green. So personally, I usually get 5 medium zucchini, 2 medium heads of broccoli, and then either yellow squash or mushrooms. A bag of salad greens is also a good option, and I have an easy way to make a good salad, which I will do as a separate post.

Next pick something easy that works as either breakfast or a snack. For me this is a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a bunch of bananas. Sometimes it’s nice to have an additional option here, like cereal or yogurt.

Last, you’ll want 2-5 sauces in bottles. I would definitely recommend a low sodium soy sauce be one of them, and maybe a BBQ sauce for the other. I usually also include worcestershire and sriracha but go with whatever you want, teriyaki sauce, A1, whatever you know you’ll eat. Hell, you can use Italian style salad dressing as a cookable sauce if you really want.

Oh, and If you don’t already have some at the house, you’ll need pan lube: butter and/or some kind of cooking oil.

Okay! we’re done shopping! Affordability isn’t the main focus here, but is undeniably important -- I live in a very expensive area, this shopping trip is going to feed me well for a week and costs me about $100 bucks. When I was living in Alabama, it probably would have cost me more like $70. You won’t need to get stuff like the sauce and rice and peanut butter every week, so you’re definitely looking at a monthly grocery bill of something like $300 depending on where you live, and that’s not too bad.

Prep

hell no, I’m depressed, the only prep I’m doing is putting two packages of meat in the freezer and the rest of this stuff in the fridge. You CAN box or bag each portion of meat separately so you can really alternate what you eat -- me, I’m gonna eat chicken for two or three days, then beef for two or three days, etc.

and listen, don’t fuck around with microwave settings or running water on things to defrost them. If you package the meat all up separately, just move a portion from the freezer to the fridge each time you cook dinner. Or, if you do like me, move the whole package when you go to cook your last portion of the previous stuff, and just deal with the fact that it will probably still be a tiny bit frozen when you go to cook next.

Tip: When you cook dinner, you’re going to make enough for lunch. That just leaves you one small meal - I often smear peanut butter on a peice of bread and wrap it around a banana like a taco - fast, easy, practically no dishes, relatively healthy

____________________________________________________________

Cooking (this is going to take about 25 minutes)

You’re going to need

ONE frying pan, medium size w/ lid ONE boil pot, medium size w/ lid knife, a spatula and a cutting board.

If you want to be fancy, you can include a big spoon. Looks like this

No matter what the specific ingredients you’ve chosen, the basic format is going to be:

Start your starch heat pan, put meat in the pan flip meat and add veggies, cover with lid remove meat and add sauce finish starch put everything on a plate while it is still too hot to eat and you are standing in the kitchen anyway, wash the like, 4 dishes you’ve gotten dirty. eat.

Okay, before you even get everything else out, start your starch. For rice this means rinse the rice and put it in the cold water and set it on high heat, for pasta this means put your salted water on the stove on high heat. For potatoes, you can use my perfect mashed potatoes recipe (I’ll do that as a separate post) or, honestly, you can wait until you’re halfway done with the rest of everything and microwave the sucker for like 8 minutes. I would never do that in a restaurant, but trying to feed my lethargic depressed ass? Absolutely.

easy rice: Fill your smallest coffee cup with rice, put it in the pot. Rinse. Fill the same cup twice with water, add to rice. Bring to a boil, give a good stir, turn heat all the way down, put a lid on it for something like 15 more minutes.

Okay, now lube your pan. Butter, olive oil, whatever. You’re probably looking at an amount more than a teaspoon and less than a table spoon of whichever you use. Personally I try to use as little olive oil as possible, so I pour a large coin sized amount (a quarter in the U.S.) into the pan, ear off a piece of the paper towel I’m going to use as my napkin for the evening, fold it up tight, and sort of paint the oil around so a little goes a longer way.

Pan lubed? Great, turn your burner on. highest heat will work but is not ideal, medium heat will work better but is still not ideal. Halfway between the two is perfect for chicken, a little hotter for beef, a little lower for fish.

Now remove two portions of your chosen protein (that way you’ll have tomorrow’s lunch too). By the time you get the packaging open and stuff, your pan is probably hot. If it’s not, let it get hot. You don’t want the oil to start smoking (warning, butter will burn faster than oil) but if you shake a single drop of water off your finger into the pan, you want it to sizzle.

If your pan is hot, put your meat in. The more you do this, the more you’ll perfect the timing, but you’re going to cook it for ~about~ 7 minutes before you flip it, maybe a couple minutes longer if it’s chicken or pork, maybe a couple minutes less if it’s beef.

Now that your meat is in, prepare your veggie. Rinse it off, cut off any part of it you don’t want to eat, and then cut what’s left into pieces the size of a large bite. Don’t worry, it’s going to get a little smaller when you cook it. Take your time, you’ll probably finish in less time than the meat needs.

Time to flip your meat? Great. Do that, and then dump your chopped up veggie in the pan. It does not matter at all if the pieces are not touching the bottom of the pan -probably most of them will not be, a bunch will be on top of the meat, that’s fine.

Put a lid on it. Now add your pasta to the water, or put your potato in the microwave, or check your rice. If following my perfect mashed potato recipe, mash now.

Rice tip, checking: eat a grain, you want zero crunch. If it’s not done and there’s no liquid, add a splash of water and stir. It it’s done or close to done, but it is still very wet, give it a big stir and leave on the stove with the lid off for a couple minutes.

Your meat still has like, at least 4 minutes, so rinse off your cutting board and chef knife, get out a plate, table knife and fork.

Meat done? Great. Take the meat out of the pan, leaving the veggies in. Add sauce to the pan. I like to also use a little wine, because it’s usually already in the house, if you have some and want to, pour a large swallow of wine in the pan with the sauce. I’ll often mix a couple sauces, like worcestershire and soy (makes something similar to teriyaki) or hot sauce and BBQ

Stir the sauce around with the veggies. This, called deglazing, is an important step for two reasons, 1: it will get up a lot of the flavorful stuff that has stuck to the pan and make your sauce better, and 2: it will make washing the pan much easier. Okay, put the lid back on for one to two minutes, maybe stir a couple times. Basically you want the sauce to stain the veggies.

Your starch should be done, turn off the burner, put a portion on your plate, and stick the rest in a ziplock or tupperware or something. Go ahead and throw the second portion of meat right in there with it.

Turn off the stove and scoop the veggies onto the plate, and pour the sauce from the pan over everything.

Now, while it’s too hot to eat, and you’re standing in the kitchen anyway, wash the pot, pan, and spatula. It should be very easy because of the way you used the sauce and because nothing has had a chance to harden. This usually takes me about 2 full minutes.

__________________________________________________________

OKAY! it’s been 20-25 minutes, you’ve got dinner and tomorrow’s lunch (just add another cut up veggie, pour a different sauce on, and put it in the microwave for two or three minutes) AND there’s no danger of dishes piling up on you :) You can even add “washing last night’s plate and fork for use tonight” to where you rinse the cutting board to really keep it full circle.

It’s not gormet. It IS accessibly healthy, affordable, and easy.

If you are extra depressed, forget the starch and use more veggies; this cuts what little work there is by up to half

Using this format, you can have three good meals per day and only spend 30 total minutes a day in the kitchen — including clean up! (dishes piling up tends to exacerbate my depression and makes cooking your next meal harder)

And it’s easy to give yourself a wide variety, from soy glazed chicken, zucchini and rice one night; to steak, mushrooms and pasta the next; followed by BBQ pork chops, brocoli and potatoes... I suck at math but there’s probably a hundred options

Just to recap, because I know I was very detailed and this might seem overwhelming, once you read through the above to answer any questions you might have, simply

-Start your starch -lube & heat pan, put meat in the pan, about 7 minutes -flip meat, add veggies, lid, about 7 minutes -wash knife and cutting board -remove meat and add sauce to veggies, re-lid, 1-2 minutes -finish starch, refrigerate extra meat and starch -put everything left on a plate -wash pot and pan -eat.

#cooking #food #depression meals

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babymetaldoll · 4 years

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Quarantine with Matthew Gray Gubler (MGG / Reader)

(Not my gif, thank you to whoever made it! )

Requested: Yes :)

Vivir en cuarentena con Matthew, y él hace en vivos por Instagram con y/n respondiendo preguntas de fans

Category: Fluff

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler / Reader

Summary: Matthew loves making people happy, and in quarantine, he finds the best way to keep in touch with his fans and do what he loves the most: spend time with (Y/N) 💜

Warnings: Nope

Word count: 2,2K

Masterlist

A/N: I am so sorry this request took me forever!! Hello guys!! thank you for all your comments, and love 💖 You are awesome!! hope you have a great week!!

Living in quarantine isn't as bad as many people think. It all depends on who you are spending your time locked in with. (Y/N) knew it pretty well, 'cos she had been locked with her husband, Matthew Gray Gubler, in their shared house for the last month.

And even when most people were sick and tired of being home, (Y/N)and Matthew managed to keep themselves busy and mentally sane. In fact, you could feel more stressed considering there was a pandemic and no one could see their loved ones and friends. But being with Matthew made it all so much bearable.

Considering Gubler's job kept him busy most of the time during a normal year and that he didn't have many chances to be home the way he was now, he enjoyed it.

Sleeping in was heaven. And the fact he could stay in, wearing pajama and kimonos, just enjoying his wife's company, was what he needed.

He didn't realize he needed to take a break after years of hard work until he was forced to do it. And god, it felt good.

(Y/N) would keep herself busy writing and reading while Matthew painted and draw by her side.

Their daily activities included: trying new recipes at least three times each week. Gubler would always come with some random exotic dish he always wanted to recreate. And six of eight times, he nailed it.

They would also spend a day in their pajamas doing nothing. Usually, it was Sundays. That was their official cuddles day. Just movies, ice cream, and cuddles.

Matthew also started teaching (Y/N) some magic tricks. She had insisted a few times, but he was very reluctant to do it at first.

- "A magician never shares his tricks, Bunny"- he argued for days.

- "Ok, but what if I am a magician too? Then it would be ok?"

(Y/N) was sitting on his lap, playing with some curls of his hair between her fingers. They were in their backyard, having a picnic. They had set a blanket and had some cookies (Y/N) had baked, along with two tall ice coffee Matthew had prepared, with an obscene amount of whipped cream.

- "And how are you planning to be a magician if you don't know any trick?"- he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

- "Just because you haven't taught me any trick doesn't mean I don't know any!"- she answered, pretending to be insulted.

- "My wife can do magic, and she never told me?"

- "There are a lot of things about your wife you still don't know"- (Y/N) teased and smiled at him.

- "Bunny, we are locked in this house until further notice. I think I have enough time to find out all those things I haven't seen in the last years."

(Y/N) had finally convinced him when she showed him a simple card trick her father had taught her when she was a kid. Gubler got so excited he even presided a ceremony to name her an official magician and invited their friends to be part of it via zoom. Everybody enjoyed their magic tricks and shared a good hour of fun and laughter with them, just like they would do live.

It felt good to be with their loved ones, even if it was just online.

That gave Matthew an idea.

- "Hey, Bunny!"- he walked into the kitchen holding his phone, scrolling down his Instagram feed.

- "What is it, honey?"- (Y/N) asked him as she kept chopping vegetables for dinner.

- "I was thinking maybe I should start doing Instagram live streamings with the fans. Maybe do some magic tricks, tell jokes. I don't know."- (Y/N) raised his eyes from the food and smiled.

- "Sounds awesome! when do you wanna start?"

- "Now?"- he answered a little hesitant

- "And what do you have in mind?"

- "Maybe answering questions and asking them if hanging out via Instagram is something they'd like to do."

(Y/N) chuckled and walked to her husband, pinching his cheeks, making him giggle.

- "You are so adorable, Gub. Like anyone wouldn't love to hang out with you."- he blushed and shook his head.

- "Ok, I'm gonna do it here anyway."

- "While I'm cooking?"- (Y/N) looked confused

- "Yes, I want you near so you can stop me when I start rambling"- (Y/N) laughed and kissed her husband's lips sweetly.

- "I can't stop your rambling, Gubler. But I can mute the video"- she teased, and he pecked her lips, chuckling.

- "Just stop me when I start saying anything embarrassing."

- "Deal."

No one could say Matthew Gray Gubler didn't care about his fans. He was committed to being always nice to anyone who would ask for a picture or an autograph. Why? Because nothing made him happier than making people happy. And if his job gave people joy, he honestly felt his life had a purpose.

That's why he enjoyed his improvised IG stream so much. He just sat on a couch nearby the kitchen and started talking with fans, answering questions.

- "Where am I spending my quarantine? Here is my hunted treehouse. I don't think I had ever been home this much, and it's been awesome."- Gubler stood up and started walking around the room.

- "Who am I spending it with? my gorgeous wife, of course,"- he said and pointed the phone at (Y/N), who was still cooking dinner. She simply waved and smiled

- "She is making sure I eat proper food now... Bunny, people are asking what you are cooking."

- "Pad thai"- she answered with a huge grin- "Gubler's request for tonight's dinner."

- "Maybe we could make a cooking class one day,"- Matthew suggested, and the screen started filling with "YES!!" immediately- "I could teach people how to burn every pan in the house, and you can cook."

(Y/N) nodded, laughing.

- "You can teach everybody how to make the best hotcakes."- (Y/N) answered and walked away from the phone.

It wasn't that she didn't like being part of her husband's activities, but she figured she wasn't really that important. Fans were there to see him, not her.

But Matthew followed her.

- "Yeah! I'll make my famous chocolate chip hotcakes, and you will have to top them!"- (Y/N) laughed and looked at her husband, raising an eyebrow.

- "Battle of the hotcakes?"

- "Yes!"

- "Set a time and a place, and I'll be there"- (Y/N) put her hands in her waist and raised an eyebrow, looking as serious as she could fake it.

- "Tomorrow, noon, here in our kitchen, because we can't leave the house,"- Gubler answered and mimicked his wife's attitude, still streaming everything.

- "Bring it, Gub."

And just like that, another livestream was scheduled.

The next day, at noon, Matthew streamed the funniest hotcake competition there had ever been seen by humankind. At least that's what he described.

- "Let's say it's a tie"- Gubbler decided and finished the last piece of hotcake in his dish- "I'll leave a poll in my stories so you can decide what you wanna see in tomorrow's live."

- "Really?"- (Y/N) asked, surprised- "Which are the options?"

- "Magic tricks or... I don't know. I didn't think this through"- he answered, making his wife giggle.

- "Maybe you could make a Rumple reading"- and Gubler's eye brightened at the idea

- "With my Rumple costume?"

- "I don't see why not"- Gubler looked at the screen and grinned like a kid.

- "Ok, you'll decide, magic classes or Rumple reading."

It was a draw. That's why Gubler did a Rumple reading the next day and decided to prepare a magic class with his wife for later that week.

His followers were having a blast with each one of their streams. Matthew would always try to take a step back and let his wife shine in front of everybody. He thought she was so funny the world needed to see more of her.

And (Y/N) always tried to be the best sidekick for her husband. Helping him make his streamings as fun as possible.

For the Rumple reading, Matthew sat in an armchair by the fireplace, dressed like Rumple, and read the whole book, impersonating voices and everything. Then, (Y/N) read the questions from the fans, and Matthew answered everything.

Gubler dressed like a classic magician for their magic streaming, and his wife was his assistant, helping him with each trick.

And by the end of the week, the people picked Q&A streaming with the two of them. It was the Friday "Chilling with the Gubs special."

- "Your girl is about to steal the whole show"- Shemar called Matthew that week and made him laugh- "She's the best part of the whole stream."

- "Don't flirt with my wife!"- he answered and chuckled.

- "I'm just saying she has a lot of potentials. She should try to do some stand-up comedy."

Gubler loved that comment, though. He knew his wife was awesome, and he wanted the world to know. As simple as that.

- "Ok, Bunny, ready to answer some questions?"- Gubler set the phone in front of them as they sat in their backyard. One more time, they had set a blanket in their favorite spot. And they had cookies and coffee.

- "Hit it!"

It was fun to do those things together. (Y/N) had never been one to be in the spotlight, but she loved being with Matthew. And if he was happy, so was she.

And it took only a second to see how happy Matthew was. He beamed each time he looked at his wife by his side.

- "Ok, this is a good one. What did we have for breakfast today?"- (Y/N) read and chuckled.

- "Good question. Waffles. (Y/N) made waffles, and I ate five, with ice cream. I'm gonna get so fat in quarantine"- the actor answered and felt his wife's hand in his hair.

- "What's your next project"- (Y/N) read- "Oh! that's a good one!"

- "But I won't say anything about it,"- Gubler answered and chuckled- "You'll have to stay tuned."

- "But I can assure you, it's amazing,"- (Y/N) added smiling- "How did you two meet"- the couple looked at each other and giggled.

- "At a party in my best friend's house"- she answered- "She was dating one of Matthew's friends, and they had a huge celebration when they moved in together."

- "And when I saw her, I knew I had to talk to her, but her friends didn't leave her alone."

- "Why didn't you just walked over and talked to me anyway?"- (Y/N) asked and crossed her arms on her chest

- "Because they were intimidating! and I am a shy guy!"- he explained- "I had to wait until you walked away to get yourself a drink to talk to you finally!"

- "You literally appeared by my side as soon as I walked away from them"- (Y/N) laughed, remembering the moment- "It was so funny!"

- "Hey! it might have been my only chance! I needed to take it!"- Matthew held her hand and played with her fingers, thinking he was glad non of that was in the camera angle.

- "And it worked"- (Y/N) answered and smiled at her husband, thinking as soon as that livestream was over, she was going to have a serious make out session with him

- "I'm glad it did. Quarantine would suck without you."

Gubler answered and smiled, thinking as soon as that stream was over, he was going to jump on her and kiss every inch of her body, just because she looked so beautiful that day.

- "Are you guys planning on having kids?"- (Y/N) read and turned all kinds of pink. There was a silence between the couple as they just looked at each other and shrugged.

- "We'd make cute babies"- Matthew answered- "And we could clearly keep them entertained."

(Y/N) laughed and shook her head.

- "We are not streaming that!!"

- "What?"

- "The baby-making part!"- she joked, and Gubler blushed, laughing and falling back on the blanket.

- "That idea never crossed my mind!"

- "I had to say it! Just in case"- (Y/N) argued and chuckled.

She had thought about having babies in the last few months. But getting pregnant during a pandemic didn't sound like a good idea.

Or was it?

- "Ok, everybody. We are signing out for today"- Gubler announced and waved at the camera- "Take care, stay in your house this weekend, and we'll come back maybe next week."

- "Maybe people can suggest what they'd like to see"- (Y/N) said and looked at Gubler, smiling back at her.

- "I'll leave the option in one of my stories so that you can leave your suggestions. See you!!"

The livestream was over. Gubler left his phone aside and looked at his wife. She was sipping her coffee and fidgeting with her fingers on the fabric of her jeans.

- "We would make cute babies, though,"- Matthew whispered and watched her beam at those words. That was all he needed to know.

- "You would spoil them so much"- (Y/N) replied, giggling.

- "Only because they will be just like you, and I love to spoil you so much"- he opened his arms, and (Y/N) leaned in, resting her body against his.

- "So... do you wanna have a baby Gub?"- she whispered against his chest- her voice was muffled, but he heard her clearly.

- "I think I do. You?"- Gubler answered, feeling his heart beating faster.

- "Me too."

(Y/N) muttered and giggled. Matthew looked at her and leaned in a little closer, kissing her lips sweetly.

It was a massive step for them, and they were very excited to do it.

- "Do you wanna start now?"- Matthew suggested, and (Y/N) blushed immediately- "I mean... I was going to suggest sex before, but now..."

- "The sooner, the better, Gubler,"- (Y/N) replied and bit her lips- "After all, we are gonna have to do a lot of practice before we succeed."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #fluff #mgg #mgg fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #mgg x reader #criminal minds fanfic #babymetaldoll writes

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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years

Note

Hiya! I love your blog! Could I please request a platonic Akane x reader x Aoi where th reader is their best friend and they are a trio (Aoi finding reader to be one of the few people she can be herself with and also being a wingman (wingwoman? Wingperson?) for Akane) and the reader decides to make a raspberry pie for Aoi with Akane since she's been seeming down lately but none of them can't cook and reck everything so they get a mildly amused Aoi to help them despite wanting it to be a surprise

(platonic) akane aoi x gn!reader and x akane

a/n: hello hello!! Love these guys!! I can’t remember the last time i wrote for aoi, so that’s definitely fun!! Thank you so much for requesting, and thank you for the compliment!! <3

warnings:

word count: 1,583

Seeing Aoi feeling down was unusual. When you asked her about it, she told you she wasn’t sure why either. “I’m fine, (Y/N). It’s just one of those weeks, you know?”

Yes, you definitely knew. But, it didn’t make it any better. All you could do was be there for her, and rely on Akane to be the one to make her laugh- he’d be there as well, but his confessions always brought a smile to her face. When the smile she usually wore at one of his attempts was blatantly empty, Akane approached you as well.

“She’s feeling really out of it,” He sighed, looking at the school’s beauty from across the room. She was watering the plants, eyes slightly downcast, though she “cheered up” when someone took notice of her. No matter her smile and raised eyebrows, for you and Akane, it was easy to see through. All you could do was nod. He didn’t need to point it out- you both were aware. It was just him… noting it. Getting it off his chest?

“Say, Akane, do you have anything to do after school?”

“Technically, I have to do things for the student council. Teru usually takes my work load when I’m ‘not doing it properly’ or ‘getting on his nerves’, which entails simply existing, but- I can get out of duties, if you need me to.”

“I was thinking… Aoi likes sweets, yeah? What if we made her a pie or something? Dropped it by her house after we’re finished?”

Akane raised his eyebrows, nodding in agreement. “That’s actually a good idea. You know how to make pie?”

“Nnnno, but, there’s gotta be a recipe online, or in a cookbook somewhere. While you get your student council stuff done, I can run to the store quickly.”

He nodded again, telling you that it sounded like a plan.

If only that enthusiasm could have influenced the results-

“It can’t be too hard!” You had said, looking at the array of ingredients after washing your hands.

“For Ao-chan, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

“A piece of-”

“Please don’t-”

“Pie.”

Akane rolled his eyes, looking over the recipe. “Anyway, preheat the oven to 425.”

You walked over to the oven, preheating it, then feeling rather proud of yourself. One step down, only so many more to go! Easy-peasy!

Grabbing a pie plate, you reached for the pastry. “I’ll roll out the crust if you’ll work on the filling?”

“Alright… I just put everything in it?”

“Yeah. Measure the stuff and whatnot.”

Akane grabbed the ingredients, putting the necessary amount into a bowl, as you glanced at the recipe.

“Oh, but not the egg or water-”

“...(Y/N), I swear to-”

You tensed as Akane sighed in frustration, walking to the trashcan and pouring the combination of ingredients into it. He rinsed the bowl lightly, before taking the recipe and reading it over once more. After reading it, he began to make the mixture properly, not sparing you a slightly annoyed- though harmless- glance. He mixed, then pushed the bowl your way.

“I mixed, you put it in.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, as you poured the mixture on top of the crust, then wet the outside of the crust lightly. Once that was finished, you reached for the rest of the pastry, setting a knife aside as you rolled it out.

“Are we gonna make it all criss-crossed?” Akane asked, walking over to you, and peering down as you took the knife.

“Yep, as best we- aH ouch, ouch,” You yelped, dropping the knife and bringing your hand to your mouth.

“Oi, don’t put your hand in your mouth- you’ve been touching the dough, wash it off first.”

You grumbled, walking to the sink and wincing as you washed your bleeding finger off. Luckily, it was nothing more than a knick, but it still hurt-

“You got blood in the dough,” Akane groaned, walking over to you and placing the knife and plate in the sink, then tossing the dough. He walked over to the counter, taking an extra thing of dough that he was now glad you bought, and rolling it out. He took it upon himself to slice the bits, telling you to mix the egg and water while he did so.

So, he placed the slices over the pie, and you lightly applied the egg-water mixture, smiling as he crimped the edges. You sprinkled a small amount of sugar over the top, then placed your hands on your hips proudly. Akane shoved the pie in your direction, then motioned to the oven.

“Cook for 15 minutes, then, once that’s over, we’ll lower the heat and cook it a little longer.”

“50? Isn’t that a little long?”

“15? Not really, no, not unless you have a plane to catch.”

You shrugged, placing the pie in the oven, then setting the time for 50 minutes. All that was left to do was wait.

You walked back over to Akane, then took a seat on the floor. He looked down at you, then followed your actions. “You think Ao-chan will like it?” He asked after a moment, causing you to shrug once more.

“I think so. Heartfelt things are supposed to mean more, right? Nothing gets more heartfelt than a homemade pie. Though store bought would have been easier, the trial and error just makes it better. At least, that’s what I hope-”

“That’s true. You’ve got the cut to prove it.”

“Shut it, four-eyes.”

Akane laughed, as the conversation continued lightly. Mainly talking about Aoi, drifting to how you hoped she’d feel better, drifting to how the pie smell was starting to get strong.

“I told you, Akane, I feel like 50 minutes is a little too long.”

“...HOW MUCH-”

“50?? Did you not say 50???”

“50? Five-zero?”

“Yes???”

“I SAID 15- ONE-FIVE, FREAKING-”

You both jumped up, running to the oven. You turned it off, while Akane grabbed the oven mitts, opening the oven and grabbing the pie. The brown, slightly smoking pie. The burn smell filled the room, but… at least it still smelled somewhat like raspberries…?

“(Y/N), we’re friends- but more importantly, you’re one of Ao-chan’s best friends- so I won’t say what I’m thinking. But I do want you to know, I have a few choice words that I’m keeping to myself.”

“Maybe you should enunciate-?! You’re top of the class, and for what???”

“Okay, first of all-”

“(Y/N)? Akane?”

“Ao-chan..” Akane muttered, in sync with your, ”Aoi...”

The purple-haired girl sniffed lightly, before her eyes landed on the pie resting in front of the two of you. Her expression was pure curiosity, practically asking the both of you “what’s going on?”

“Ah… Akane and I were just trying to… make a pie…”

“What for? You guys know I can cook, I would have helped.”

“Well- it was supposed to be for you, Ao-chan. We ran into… some misunderstandings though.”

Aoi’s surprised expression melted into genuine joy, which quickly melted into sweet laughter. You saw Akane’s face flush slightly from the corner of your eyes, and you couldn’t blame him- even platonically, her laugh really was purely… music. She was laughing at the two of you, you both knew that- but, the two of you made her laugh. For the first time that week, she was smiling, laughing. She was happy. You and Akane exchanged victorious glances, fist bumping underneath the counter.

“Ah, it can’t be helped then. (Y/N), Akane, are there extra ingredients?”

You nodded, grabbing the extra things of dough from a grocery bag, then motioning at the already-out ingredients.

“Great! Akane, preheat the oven please? 425 for now.”

Akane nodded, walking over to the oven and preheating it. While he did that, Aoi handed you the dough, and took over the ingredients for the filling. “Roll that out, please, (Y/N). I’ll take the filling- but, Akane, I’ll trust you to roll out the second thing of dough. I can cut it and apply it to the pie,” She ordered, placing the necessary ingredients into the bowl. The way she went about things was neat, showing off her perfectionist tendencies. Compared to the mess you and Akane had created earlier… she really was a diamond in the rough.

---

Time had passed, the pie finished and cooled off, though the sun was nearly gone. Aoi cut the pie, offering the both of you a slice, then taking one for herself. Cheerily, she took a bite, as you and Akane followed suit.

The sweet smell filled the room, so much nicer than the burning smell created earlier. The taste was just as lovely- accompanied with Aoi’s smiles, everything in the world suddenly felt right again.

“Even if it didn’t go as you two planned, I am really grateful for you both. I know the two of you wanted to try and cheer me up… I think this was a really sweet way of going about it. And, to be completely honest, I am feeling better.”

“Ao-chan… I love you so much…!”

“Hmm… 5 points! 3 bonuses for the pie.”

Akane sighed lightheartedly, taking another bite from the pie.

“Aoi, I love you so much,” You spoke, placing a hand on your chest and smiling at the girl. “Platonically, of course-”

“I love you too, (Y/N),” Aoi smiled, closing her eyes cutely.

“(Y/N), those choice words from earlier really are seeming very nice to share with you-”

#anon #request #platonic #platonic x reader #gn!reader #x gn!reader #tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #aoi akane #akane aoi #tbhk x reader #jshk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #jibaku shounen hanako kun x reader #aoi akane x reader #akane aoi x reader

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geraltofriviasleftbuttcheek · 3 years

Text

of crispy-edged waffles and slightly burnt toast

geraskefer, ciri pov — 1.4k — gen audiences — modern au, domestic fluff

written for the "domestic" space of my @geraskeferbingo card

"I want to do breakfast in bed for Dad and Papa tomorrow," Ciri tells her mom, when it's just them after lunch. Dad and Papa both had to go back to work because their jobs don't let them work from home like Mama's. She puts another piece of her puzzle in place.

"Oh?"

"For Father's Day," she clarifies. She searches for another piece as she says, "They deserve something nice for being the most awesome dads to ever dad."

She knows a lot of people buy, like, tools and grills and stuff for their dads, but Dad has plenty of tools and they just bought a new grill last year, anyway, and Papa doesn't cook or use tools, because that's what he has Dad for, so she thinks this will be something special and unexpected.

Mama hums consideringly. "I think they'll love that, actually. Your papa will definitely cry about it," she adds, and Ciri giggles.

"He probably will."

"I know he will," Mama says, "because he cried when your dad brought him breakfast in bed for his birthday last year."

"He's a sap," Ciri says, and Mama snorts.

"Yes," she agrees, "he is."

"But that's why you and Dad love him."

Mama smiles her soft smile, the one Ciri only sees on her face when she's thinking about Dad and Papa. "Yeah."

They sit in silence for a bit. Ciri puts ten more pieces together while Mama types away on her laptop. It's nice when it's just them, but she misses her papa's singing and having her dad help her with her puzzles. She's got a whole collection, and he's helped her finish almost half of them now.

"What kind of breakfast do you want to make for them?" Mama asks after a bit.

Ciri frowns as she looks for one of the missing center pieces of her puzzle; it's being a sneaky hiding bastard. "Hm. I was thinking, like, eggs or something. Or waffles—Papa loves waffles. Maybe toast too? Dad likes to put his eggs on his toast because he's weird, so he'd probably like that."

"Probably," Mama agrees, and Ciri can tell she's trying not to laugh. "But that sounds good."

Ciri finally gives up on finding the missing piece and pushes up from the floor. She stretches her arms above her head, going on her tiptoes, and then drops her arms. She looks over at her mom, curled up on the couch with her work computer and a mug that probably had coffee in it at some point, and considers going to get an apple juice box for herself.

"Will you help me make it all?" she asks. "I've never used the waffle maker before, and I don't actually want to set the kitchen on fire, so."

"Bold of you to assume that anyone in this house but your dad knows how to use that thing," Mama says, and they grin at each other. "But sure, sweetie. I'd be happy to."

"And I can blame you if the house does burn down, right?" she asks innocently.

Mama throws one of the couch pillows at her and she runs from the living room, cackling.

The next morning, way earlier than she usually gets up, Ciri sneaks over to her parents' room and cracks the door open. She can hear her papa's soft snores—the ones he insists he doesn't make—and snickers silently to herself as she steps into the room.

Dad's in the middle of the very big bed, as usual, with Papa's arm flung over him. The space on his other side is empty and rumpled, and Ciri looks into the ensuite to see Mama brushing her teeth. She meets Ciri's eyes in the mirror and nods, and Ciri nods back before sneaking back out and going to the kitchen.

Ciri's got very simple instructions on how to make a waffle and eggs over medium pulled up on her phone, and she stares down the waffle maker with only a little nervousness.

"Ready?" Mama asks, coming up beside her.

She pulls her shoulders back and lifts her chin, determined. "Yeah. Let's make a fucking waffle."

"Hey," Mama admonishes, but she kisses Ciri's head and finishes it with, "watch your fucking language, young lady."

It's...an adventure of sorts, after that.

Both Ciri and her mom can follow a recipe okay enough, and they manage to make the waffle batter with little difficulty: measuring out ingredient amounts is pretty straightforward, and Mama knows how to use the stand mixer, sort of, and they only get it over the counter and on their faces and not their clothes, so they consider that a win.

Cooking it without it coming out a charred, mangled mess, or without it being way undercooked, however—and also making eggs over medium—proves to be a little more challenging. They have several failed attempts and go through at least half a dozen eggs before finally getting something that doesn't look like it'll poison either her papa or her dad if they ingest it.

"Okay," Ciri says, watching the clock closely, "I think that's good enough."

Mama hums in agreement and they open the waffle press. The edges are a bit more dark brown than Dad ever gets, but the center is a nice golden color. It'll have to do; they're running out of batter.

Ciri gets the waffle on a plate while Mama slides the eggs they've managed to actually get in the skillet and cook for a nebulous amount of time on top of the slightly burnt toast that came out of the toaster. Apparently you actually have to pay attention to a toaster because it can jam and things can burn? That was something new they learned.

The yolks break a bit and start soaking into the toast despite how careful they are, but Dad would do it himself anyway, so Ciri figures they're just helping it along. She's pretty sure everything is edible, at least, which is all she can ask.

She pours orange juice into two glasses—which she manages flawlessly—and Mama gets everything onto the big food tray they only break out for special occasions, like today. Ciri runs and grabs the cards she'd made for her dads and tucks them under the plates, and then she helps Mama pick it up and carry it to the master bedroom.

Dad and Papa are still sleeping soundly, and Ciri feels a brief pang of guilt for wanting to wake them up. But then she shakes it off, because she knows they won't mind and besides, she made them breakfast in bed and the least they can do is appreciate it.

Mama takes the tray and gives her an encouraging, evil grin, and she grins back before throwing herself at the bed and jumping on top of it. She bounces a bit and crawls over their legs as they grunt and startle awake, blinking blearily at her.

"Cirilla—"

"Ciri, what—"

"Happy Dad's Day!" she crows, throwing her arms around both of them as best she can. She feels each of them wrap an arm around her and smiles into the big hug they give her. "Mama and I made you breakfast."

"Thank you, sweet girl," Papa says, kissing her head. Dad just hums and holds her tighter. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," she says, pulling back and settling between them as Mama brings over the food. "But I wanted to. You deserve it. Both of you. You're the best dads ever."

"She figured you didn't need another grill," Mama teases, and they all laugh.

Papa's eyes are a bit wet, the blue color even brighter than normal, and Ciri internally high fives her mom because they totally called it. Dad also looks ready to cry—by which she means he's hiding his face behind his hair—which is a bit more surprising, but also not really, when she thinks about it. Fondness wells up in her chest and she leans forward to kiss each of their cheeks.

"Love you Dad, love you Papa," she whispers, and they pull her close and tuck her between them as Mama sits on the bed too and puts the food tray between them all.

Ciri makes a face when Mama kisses both of them in the Grown Up Way, but she's warm and safe, surrounded by her parents. She's happy and loved, and that's all she can think to ask for.

She's also relieved that the food isn't terrible—or at least that her dads love her enough to pretend it's not.

#geraskeferbingo #the witcher #geraskefer #fics.#i am SOFT for this family ok

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years

Note

In a recent malarklina post you mentioned having many headcanons 👀 Care to share with the class?

So I went over some character hcs for the three of them in this post! But here are a few that are specifically Malarklina. (Some of these are set in an Immortal!Mal AU and some aren't, sorry if it gets a bit confusing).

Aleksander has a competency kink and is attracted to Alina showing off her sun powers and Mal showing off his tracking abilities.

Alina makes them both little suns that follow them around to always light their path. This is especially meaningful to Aleksander, although he'd never admit it, because he used to be afraid of the dark as a child.

Mal reminds Aleksander of Luda, and he often goes into depressive states when considering the fact of Mal's mortality. Once Alina fully grasps the reality of the situation, she often suffers from them as well. During these times, Mal tries to be there for them as much as he can, but it's a heavy burden to bear alone.

They all have difficult relationships with gender and sexuality and at one point actually end up sitting down (completely by accident, because Aleksander is allergic to emotions) to talk about this aspect of their lives in more depth.

Aleksander usually sleeps in the middle because he's a) touch-starved and b) an attention whore, but they switch it up on occasion.

Mal is the most clingy sleeper in the history of sleepers. Aleksander and Alina have both woken up on more than one occasion to Mal literally laying fully on top of them and wrapped around them like an octopus. Aleksander likes the weight and usually just snuggles in deeper but Alina has to wiggle out of the way most of the time so she can breathe.

Mal likes Aleksander with short hair but Alina likes him with long hair. This is the source of many fights in their relationship, none of which Aleksander is actually apart of.

Alina and Aleksander both like Mal with longer hair and so he's press ganged into growing it out.

Mal and Alina love every single song Aleksander hates.

When Mal pisses Aleksander off it's no sex for a day even after a dozen apologies, but when Alina pisses him off all she has to do is say sorry and he'll just eat her out right then, not a care in the world.

Aleksander is very physically affectionate, but Mal and Alina have phases of liking it and disliking it, so they have to balance a way to take care of each other's needs without pushing boundaries.

Aleksander is directionally challenged because I said so and Mal and Alina constantly have to make sure he doesn't get lost.

Kissing scars has become a very intimate practice between them all.

Aleksander keeps an obsessively clean house but Alina's paint supplies get everywhere, that paired with Mal just shucking off his hunting outfits anywhere in the house and dumping his gardening/hunting supplies wherever's most convenient means that Aleksander is in a constant state of annoyance about their living situation.

Alina makes a Rule about Mal and Aleksander fighting after Mal straight up tackles Aleksander off the side of the roof when they're trying to figure out how to replace shillings.

They all spar with each other at least once every other day. This mostly started as a means of keeping themselves sharp in case of danger, but it quickly became a bonding routine of sorts. Turns out Aleksander has a lot of information stored up about fighting. That paired with Mal's military training makes for some very intense spars as well as the rapid growth of all three of them into some of the most dangerous fighters on the planet.

@mal-zoya now has me convinced that it will take at least 500 years for Mal and Aleksander to admit they love each other.

Aleksander likes it when they wear his clothes. Alina likes wearing Mal and Aleksander's clothes. There is a lot of clothing sharing going on. It gets to the point where the only way they can tell who's clothing is who's is based on color scheme and the quality of the cloth and occasionally (but not always) the size as well.

Mal and Alina infodump all the time about their passions and Aleksander eats it up. He loves it. He thinks his partners are the smartest people in the universe.

When Alina is suffering from artist's block she goes to Aleksander for inspiration. When she's inspired she goes to Mal to create.

Mal is generally the one who cooks all of their meals because Alina will get distracted when she's going on an art spree and Aleksander will just straight up forget he's a human sometimes. But when Mal doesn't do it Aleksander does it because he has Standards and he's not about to let his partners starve to death, thank you very much.

Aleksander and Mal used to cook plainer foods in the beginning of the relationship but they both slowly shake off some of the chains of their upbringings and previous ways of life to slowly try out more elaborate and lush recipes. Alina has come home on more than one occasion to see them collaborating on a new recipe Aleksander managed to flirt/finagle out of one of the old ladies from the nearby village.

Alina likes to ride out every day and sometimes ropes Aleksander or Mal into going with her. There are lots of picnics and packed lunches in their life. When they go to an especially scenic spot, she'll sit there for hours and draw.

Mal won't ever be able to fully understand the meaning of Alina's immortality. It would be impossible to, even with many explanations and having to deal with Aleksander's own traumas as a result. But that doesn't stop him from attempting to learn as much as he can to make things easier for both of his partners.

Alina attempts to join the local ladies' knitting group in the nearby village but hates it. Aleksander, on the other hand, finds it to be the most valuable source of gossip in the village. He rapidly becomes a part of the club and returns home with boatloads of gossip by the day. Alina and Mal have no idea what to do with literally any of this information, but Aleksander certainly does. Getting involved in small town drama is, in his opinion, one of the best things he ever decided to do. Mal and Alina are beginning to think he needs some therapy.

Mal starts a little farm outside of their cottage and Alina starts a flower garden. Alina also begins to amass a small library over time, with the help of Aleksander "is this an original text?! maybe so" Morozova. Mal is not expecting to come home one day to an entirely new room built into the house and a massive collection of books lining the walls.

Alina and Aleksander will use their powers actively all day. In fact, they both get so comfortable with summoning that they just start letting their emotions affect their summoning all the time. And so Mal has a very good indicator for whether or not his partners are upset or happy based on the way the shadows and lights flicker, much akin to the way people judge how their cats are feeling based on what their tails are doing.

Also, though, Mal just feels proud that they both trust him enough and feel comfortable enough around him and in their home to feel as if they don't need to watch themselves constantly.

Alina still likes mapmaking and, after a few years of peace where she starts to get restless, she slowly begins to do it again. Every two months or so she'll go out on a long trip to map a few of the nearby areas. She quickly builds up a side business of selling her personal maps to the people of whatever town they're living near.

Aleksander eventually opens up enough to share some of his past with Alina and Mal. He especially begins to engage more with the pieces of his culture that he had to forsake in order to assimilate over the years. Alina and Mal are always more than willing to help him puzzle through a half remembered recipe or a phrase in his native tongue that he's partially forgotten. They feel honored every time he shares a small piece of his history with them.

Nightmares are a common occurrence between all of them and whenever one happens a cuddle pile of epic proportions ensues. Also sometimes they talk about feelings have some pillow talk to work through things. Aleksander will also sometimes sing them back to sleep. His lullabies are haunting, but his singing voice is beautiful, and it usually does the trick. He refuses to sing for them outside of these moments, however.

Alina adores the height difference between her and her very tall partners. She thinks its fucking stellar.

Alina and Mal start up an orphanage on many occasions throughout the centuries. Alina loves kids and constantly helps them when she can. She mourns the fact that she won't ever be able to adopt without having to watch them grow old without her.

They've all discussed having kids at multiple points throughout their lives, and they all want to do so. But Aleksander wants to wait until Grisha persecution is no longer even the hint of an issue. Alina and Mal agree to wait, largely because they want some time to think on it too.

Mal tries to teach Alina how to shoot one day and she accidentally clips Aleksander as he's coming outside with lunch. He never lets her live it down and on more than one occasion attempts to use it for sympathy points, even hundreds of years later.

Aleksander is both the big spoon and the little spoon, but he likes being the big spoon (in reality he's a knife, of course). Mal likes being the little spoon but is often relegated to the big spoon, and Alina likes being both.

Alina paints a portrait of Mal and Aleksander cuddled up in bed once and no matter how much they entreat her to burn it she absolutely refuses to do so.

Aleksander is basically a walking, talking source of illegal activity, and he can't be taken anywhere anymore without expecting some sort of crime to take place.

Alina tries to adopt a little black cat one day and Aleksander gets outrageously jealous. He spends about two months being bitter, then another two months trying to chase it off, but the creature stays with them all until it dies of old age (and he'll never admit to privately grieving it's loss, although Mal and Alina both know it).

All of their communication skills are absolutely atrocious but Alina is the best. Mal is the second best. Aleksander doesn't even rank. Over time, they get into the habit of it, though. They practice at it painfully for years until they reach the point where healthy communication becomes second nature.

Mal proposes to Alina one day (after much talk between all three of them) and they get married. A couple years later they both propose to Aleksander (after zero talk, he is suitably surprised and also maybe a bit teary eyed). They have an illegal wedding on holy ground at midnight with a bribed and essentially kidnapped pastor.

Aleksander spends an excessive amount of money on Alina and Mal. He buys them things constantly and lavishes them with gifts. Alina loves it but it grates on Mal for a time until he realizes it isn't a means of manipulation as much as a love language and a shoddy attempt at communication and expressing feelings.

Once they reach the modern world (in an Immortal!Mal AU), they all get phones and send each other the most cursed texts in all of history. The group chat is a hellspace and the individual chats are just pure shittalking. Nowhere is free.

Shopping in the modern world consists of chaotic impulse buys and the excessive waste of money. They're all each other's impulse control, but they can't always go out together at the same time, so it's usually only in groups of two. Which means that when Alina's gone, Aleksander fills the cart with sweets. And when Mal is gone, Alina fills the cart with an inordinate amount of bananas (which are new) and microwavable easy to eat meals and paint supplies and oh! look at these pretty notebooks on display!. And when Aleksander is gone the cart its legitimately just a free for all. He comes home and there's mincemeat and apple pies cooking for some reason. Mal has a new apron. The fire alarm has been replaced. Turns out they stopped at an ikea on the way back and now they have a better dining table.

Alina is the best driver of them all. Aleksander goes way too fast but he never crashes. Mal refuses to even step foot in a car for about half a decade.

Aleksander is actually the one that gets into makeup. He quite enjoys it and thinks maybe his partners need to live a little for once. They both very firmly disagree.

Alina loses the tv remote constantly and it drives Mal absolutely wild. Sometimes Aleksander will steal it just to watch Mal go into a frenzy looking for it.

Alina builds up a large following for her art (and the art of her 'ancestors') over the centuries. Modern day Alina is basically famous, but luckily nobody knows her face.

#okay this got too long i had to stop alsjdflkjds #i got very carried away im so sorry #some of these are just plain aus but I Do Not Care #asks and answers #anon #malarklina #mymetas #shadow and bone #sab #grishaverse #alina starkov #aleksander morozova #the darkling #malyen oretsev #darklina #malina #myramblings #alina x darkling x mal #myhcs

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 3 years

Text

Crossword Clues & Coffee - Five Across

Summary: A chance encounter in Lebanon’s finest (read: only) diner leads Dean to find the one thing he never knew his life was missing.

Warnings: Tiny bit of language? Angst. LOTS of sass. Honestly, it’s a lot of fluff. No romance.

Author’s Note: Many thanks to @there-must-be-a-lock for always-masterful revision and editing advice, and to @thoughtslikeaminefield for encouragement and flails. I think we all need something a little more light-hearted these days, so here you go.

MAJOR NOTE: DO NOT QUIT IN THE MIDDLE. DO NOT KILL ME. READ TO THE END OF THE CHAPTER. You've trusted me this long, just read til the end of the chapter. One more chapter after this one.

Word Count: 1269

In Case You Missed It: CC&C: One Across | Two Down | Three Down | Three Across | Four Down

ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Five Across

Winter brings chill winds and a rattling cough to Esther’s chest that has Dean this close to just picking her up, sticking her in Baby, and taking her to the doctor himself. She waves him off his “fussing,” swallows some pills, and puts her kettle on the stove for yet another cup of honeyed tea.

Dean gets it; she’s been along for a long time, and even before that she was the one who took care of everyone, not the other way around. Dean understands a little too well, actually.

That doesn’t mean he has to like it.

When Dean arrives at the diner the following Tuesday only to receive a message from one of the waitresses that Esther called and isn’t “feeling up to breakfast,” he turns on his heel without a word, stops for ten minutes at the grocery store, and is at Esther’s front door before Baby even has time to stop growling in the driveway.

He knocks once, for propriety’s sake (and only because Esther actually gives a damn about propriety in the first place), and then barges straight in, one arm cradling a small paper grocery sack as his eyes sweep the empty living room.

“Esther?” he calls. He drops the groceries on the table and heads in the direction of the coughing, his heart sinking lower with every little gasping breath he hears at the end of the coughs.

He finds Esther propped up in bed, not even dressed for the day despite it being an hour past their normal meeting time. She looks smaller than usual, the fluffy comforter pulled up around her shoulders as she holds a handkerchief to her mouth just before another round of coughs racks her frail form.

She doesn’t look surprised at Dean’s appearance, doesn’t even fuss at his unannounced arrival, and that honestly worries him as much as the coughing. He retrieves a glass from the kitchen, fills it with cool water, and holds his own steadying hand around Esther’s as she drinks slow sips.

He sets about making her honeyed tea and the oatmeal he purchased from the grocery store, adding some honey to the hot grain (sludge, he thinks with a bone-deep shudder). Then, sighing deeply, he adds a second bowl to the tray for himself.

She’ll be angry if he doesn’t eat, too.

She’s steadier after the hot meal, her coughs subsiding, and they manage a stilted conversation for a couple of minutes before Dean clears away their breakfast dishes and returns with the newspaper he brought.

Rather than handing it over, he pulls out his own pencil stub and starts reading the crossword clues aloud, waiting for input between coughing fits with an increasing tightness in his gut that he doesn’t quite hide behind the death grip on his pencil nor his deepening frown.

His teeth grind a little harder, and his gut twists a little tighter with every cough or rattle in her breath. She’s as stubborn as Sam on a quest to save the world, and Dean is irritated down to his soul. Every wheeze makes the fire burn a little hotter until he finally breaks, somewhere between Esther’s fourth coughing fit and the clue for twelve down (“Related to the lungs, 9 letters”).

“You won’t go to the doctor or the hospital, so does that mean you’re giving up? You done here?” He knows he’s being blunt, bordering on rude, but he’s past caring about manners.

“Because I’m not done with you. Not with coffee, not with dinners, not with… with fixing up your house. I still have… the flower beds to dig up, and you asked me to work on your porch, and… we haven’t even gone through a quarter of your recipe box. I’m not… I don’t accept it. You’re too damn stubborn to just quit.”

His torrent of words startles the truth out of Esther at last, and her eyes mist over a little. “Stanley died in a hospital. Doctors misdiagnosed him over and over, ignored some of his symptoms, just wouldn’t listen. Haven’t trusted them since. Figured if I can’t handle it myself, I can at least try to be comfortable at home.”

Dean mulls that over, his eyebrows drawn low, acid roiling in his gut. He probably looks angry, which is better than looking as scared as he feels. He’s got a feeling she sees right through the anger anyway.

“So you aren’t ready to die?”

She studies him for a long moment, taking in a slow, rattling breath but managing to forestall the next round of coughs with a sip of lukewarm tea.

“No, Dean, I’m not quite ready to go yet. Seems I’ve got a thing or two left worth sticking around for after all.”

Dean covers her hands with his once more, pressing his lips together to stop the tremor. He isn’t quite able to ignore how cool and fragile her fingers feel against his palm, how thin and papery her skin feels against his callouses. He holds her eyes with his own, his expression brooking no arguments.

“Good, I’m making a call to a friend. He’s not a doctor, but he’s going to help you.”

“You’re going to call a stranger over to-”

He cuts her off, his tone hardened steel to her iron.

“I’m calling a friend to help you. You said you’re not ready to give up. This is your option.”

Dean already has his phone, tapping in a quick text. His eyes flick to hers, not asking permission, but she nods anyway, and he hits send on his phone. There’s a whooshing noise, vaguely fluttering, from the hallway behind him, and Cas walks in, tie and trench coat in their usual disarray.

“What’s the emergency, Dean? Where’s Sam?”

“Heal her, Cas,” he says without preamble, his eyes locked on Esther’s. She raises her eyebrows, glances to Cas, but then looks back to Dean. He sees the questions rushing across her face, but for whatever reason, she chooses silent acceptance.

Her fingers tremble in his grip, but she redoubles her hold on him as Cas moves to her other side. The angel reaches out, places a chaste hand on her collarbone, and closes his eyes. The glow is brief and warm, and the rattle in Esther’s chest disappears.

Esther breathes deeply for a moment, her eyes wide with shock, and she looks from the angel to the hunter with her mouth agape. Her fingers grip Dean’s with more force than a moment ago, and relief floods through Dean so fast his head spins.

The tiny, elderly woman stammers for a moment, as off-kilter as Dean has ever seen her, before closing her mouth with a near-audible snap. She licks her lips, swallows, clears her throat, and then looks up at Cas.

“Go hang up your coat and put your shoes by the front door, young man. Straighten your tie, as well, and then go start the coffee. You’re skin and bones, too. Dean, I’m starving. No more oatmeal, we’re going to make a real breakfast. Now shoo, both of you. I have to get dressed.”

Esther swings her legs over the side of the bed, standing with a bit more alacrity than she’s used to, and she glances over at Dean, her eyes narrow.

“Hips not bothering you so much now, huh?”

“Dean Campbell, do not ask a woman about her hips; that is beyond indecent. Now get out of my bedroom, young man. Go be useful.”

Dean grins, shutting the door and heading down the hall to find Cas before the angel can destroy the coffee pot.

...

Next: Six Down

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inlovewithhisblueeyes · 4 years

Text

The Great Jewish Cook-off

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Jewish Reader

Prompt: Latkes from the 8 Days of Henry-kkah

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Mentions of sadness and depression in regards to the holidays and the current pandemic.

A/N: Happy Hanukkah. I wanted to get this done for the first day, but my depression reared it’s ugly head. I decided to start off this challenge by writing for my favorite bear. I’m feeling a bit homesick due to the fact I’m normally back home with my family at this time of year. So this piece reflects a bit of that.

A delicate blanket made of snowflakes had nestled itself over the streets of Minneapolis. Normally by the time Walter was evicted from his office at the station, this picturesque scene would have been turned into mucky slush. However, with the impending snowstorm on top of the current stay at home order, the snowy streets remained relatively undisturbed. Walking towards his car, he took in the sight before him; it was different to be caught up in it rather than watching this winter wonderland from his office window.

The tired detective let out a groan as he clamored into his freezing car. The sun was just beginning to set and bright oranges and reds danced across the wintery whiter stage that was this city. He quickly turned on the ignition and peeled out of his parking spot, eager to be out of the cold and in the arms of his girl. The ride home was rather uneventful due to the denizens of this icy city finally listening to restrictions set in place. At least, that’s what he had hoped. The amount of times Walter had been called to break up a party in the past few months would have astounded him had he not been dealing with humanity’s worst of the worst in homicide.

In addition, Faye had been participating in remote learning, which allowed her to blow up his phone throughout the day. It was bad enough that he had be relegated from homicide to deal with those covidiots, but having a stir-crazy teenager attached to her phone when she should be paying attention to her classes was surely wearing him down. He went from having a phone that could stay charged for a few days straight to having to charge it nightly due to his daughter’s antics. In hindsight, it was better than her spending her ample free time messaging strangers online. All he wanted now was a quiet night at home with his girlfriend; perhaps, cuddled up on the couch with some wine and watching whatever silly holiday movie piqued their interest.

The first thing he noticed as he pulled into the driveway was that your car was parked out front, yet the lights were off in the house. It was still rather light out so it wouldn’t have been the biggest deal in the world if Walter wasn’t a cop. Nevertheless, it caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up as he exited the vehicle. The curly haired man quickly removed his gun from his holster and began to walk towards the front door. With a swift turn of the door knob, he could tell that you had once again left the door unlocked. This was a continued point of contention in the relationship as the horrors of that dreadful day a few years back were ever present in his mind.

Granted, the two of you had not even met yet and most of the details of that brutal case were never to be disclosed to the public. Walter carefully opened the door and stepped into the house. He heard the crackle of the fire in the next room and quickly ascertained that his worst fears hadn’t come true. Sliding his gun back into the holster, Walter quietly toed off his boots and hung his jacket up in the closet. Then he took off his mask and set it on the table by the door. His sock covered feet padded against the hard wooden floor of the entryway as he made his way towards the living room. The electric fire was the only source of light in the room and he could scarcely make your sleeping form out on the couch.

It wasn’t like you to be asleep this early, but ever since the world shut down, things have been rather different around here. Walter silently leant down to give you a kiss on the cheek and to check to make sure you weren’t suffering from a fever. Grabbing his phone from his back pocket, he made his way over to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Just as he was about to go through the sea of texts from Faye, the detective noticed a faint smell of burnt food. He set his phone on the counter and quickly flicked on the lights.

Walter immediately saw the culprit of the smell sitting on the stove. The pan that was there had something black seared to its insides, yet it was too charred for him to tell further. Whatever you had made had clearly gone awry and you had quickly cleaned up almost all traces of your failed attempt. You were a good cook and always roped him into whatever cooking show was on tv; even Faye would join the two of you whenever she would stay over. You had spent your down time during the quarantine trying out new recipes; some were good enough to be added to the meal rotation, while others had failed to win approval across the board.

It was no bother to him to take your place as the cook tonight if it meant you had one less thing weighing you down. This time of year was hard on most people and adding in a pandemic only made things more difficult. Tossing the pan into the sink for a well deserved deep cleaning at a later time, Walter noticed his phone light up on the counter. Another text from Faye joined the countless others and now was as good a time as any to go through them.

Walter had to thank whoever blessed him with his daughter and her daily text spams. The mystery of the burned food had been solved without having to wake you. Clearly, you had a bit of trouble with the latkes, but luckily for you now he was home to assist in anyway you needed. Hanukkah dinner could be a team effort. The curly haired man made quick work of getting the pan you had been using clean before he made his way over to the couch you were on. Getting down on bended knee in front of your sleeping form, he gently placed a hand on you to wake you up.

“Sweetheart…would you consider rejoining the land of the living?” He whispered.

“Too cozy,” you grumbled as you pulled an arm up to cover your eyes.

“I bet you are, but you won’t be if I take this blanket,” Walter chuckled.

That got you to sit up and stare blearily at him. “You wouldn’t dare let me freeze” you replied to which he raised an eyebrow at you as if to say try me.

You sighed heavily and pulled the blanket off you before folding and returning it to its spot over the back of the couch. Your bear of a man sat down beside you and gently pat his thigh, the universal signal for you to come cuddle up on his lap. You eagerly shot up and made yourself cozy on his lap, burying your face in his neck and breathing him in. His hand came up to slowly stroke your back as the two of you cuddled in silence.

“What’s on your mind, love?” He questioned as he kissed the top of your head.

You tried to hold back the tears that were eager to pour out, “I miss my family, Walt. I’m so used to spending at least some of the holidays with them. Then my cousins decided to have a latke cook-off since we can’t get together and I burned them. I have no idea how I did it. It was awful and it made me wish that my gram was here to help me fix it. B-b-but she’s back home and I’m here and I don’t know when I’ll get to cook with her again.” The last part came out in as sob.

“Shhhhh honey. Shhhh. It’s ok,” Walter murmured into your hair and he hugged you tightly as you cried into his neck.

It took a few minutes for all your sadness and frustration to be sobbed out. The detective remained the strong beacon of light that his girl needed to get through this storm of emotions. He whispered his love and praises into your hair, never letting go of you even for a second. You needed to get everything out that you been bundling up in inside. When the last remaining tears had fallen and your sniffles had abated, you slowly lifted your head to look at him.

“Well I think together we can try and kick those cousins of yours’ arses, sweetheart. What do you say?”

“I’d say let’s try to save Hanukkah.”

“Good. Up we get,” Walter said, giving a small swat to your butt.

You quickly clamored off of his lap and hurried into the kitchen to get out the supplies. Walter followed after you and waited for further instructions. The two of started cleaning and shredding the potatoes. You even turned it into a game to see who shred the most potatoes the fastest and it turned out a tie. Soon you added the rest of the ingredients to the bowl while he heated the pan. Walter and you worked together as a perfect team; joking around and laughing as you fried the latkes.

Walter set the table as you continued to cook up you Hanukkah meal. He grabbed the applesauce and ketchup since that what you recommended to accompany them. When you had finally finished cooking the last few and added them to the growing pile, you took the precious cargo over to your eager boyfriend. Each latke turned out a perfect golden brown that was hard on the outside and softer in the center. With the first bite, the two of you moaned at the salty, oily goodness.

“Now you see why we only make them once a year,” You hummed in between bites.

“I do indeed. Faye asked you to save her some.”

“Well we did make enough to feed an army. The only issue is you big guy,” You teased,” But yes I can save her some.”

You finished the latke you were on and padded over to the kitchen to grab a container before returning. You carefully placed the latkes inside and headed back to the kitchen to stick them in the freezer for the next time Faye was over. The two of you contentedly ate as many latkes as your stomachs could handle. With your stomachs and hearts full, the table was cleared and you both returned to curl up by the fire.

“Hey Walter,” You started, smiling up at him.

“Yes, love.”

“Thank you.”

#henry cavill #8 Days of Henrykkah #8DaysofHenrykkah #happy hanukkah #Hanukkah writing challenge #walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #night hunter #nomis #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #the cavillry #henry cavill fandom #jewish reader #hanukkah #jewish writers

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

Arcadia or Bust (17)

Heartstone Hall

Previously on Arcadia or Bust:

James Lake Sr. came back to Arcadia while Jim and friends were out retrieving the new Heartstone. The deadbeat not only ran away with a girl, but he’d been dealing cocaine in LA. Now he’s come back to lay low, since he owes a lot of money to some really dangerous men. He got a kilo of cocaine to try to make his profit back, only to not pick it up from the drop zone before Jim found it. Thinking it was trash, Jim ate the brick and went into an 8 hour rage, busting up the town. The US army of Area 49-B got a whiff of the destruction and came to collect Jim from the hospital. With a campaign from the town and an old friend of Walter’s, Jim is turned loose. However, he’s not out of the woods yet, as his amulet was ripped out of his chest and now he has a crater.

—

*points in a random direction* Hey look! What’s that over there?! *Drops update* *runs*

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“It’s okay Jim, you’re going to be okay,” said Claire, as she hovered just over his face, and pressed little kisses to his cheek. “We’re going home.”

“…For the…glory…” he muttered, before wincing and falling silent.

“Are you taking us to the hospital?” Barbara asked as the van sped on, faster than any speed limit.

“Nope,” said Samuel. “I think this is a Heartstone issue.”

She nodded, knowing that would be the best. “He needs a tissue transplant, but his skin is so tough…I don’t even know what we could do for him. Get human skin and have Merlin transform it into half-troll? I hate that I don’t know what to do! I’m not a surgeon, damnit! And I’m certainly no magic expert!”

“Stop at the McDonald’s near the edge of town,” said Toby.

“Really? You want a Big Mac at a time like this?”

“No! Merlin is probably there, and I bet he could fix Jim up.”

“Wait, Merlin-Merlin? Like ‘Amulet of Merlin, Sword of Excalibur’ Merlin?” Asked Samuel.

“That’s the one!”

Once they got into town, Samuel pulled in at the McDonalds as requested, and Toby was out the door before he stopped the car.

“Merlin! Merlin help!” He cried, as he ran inside the restaurant.

The employees behind the counter all looked at him, and then pointed at Merlin, who had set up shop in the corner of the store. He was surrounded by books, and other magical artifacts.

How had management allowed this? Well actually, Merlin wouldn’t have listened to any authority, so they probably didn’t allow it.

Toby ran to the wizard. “We got Jim back! He’s in the van, and he’s hurt really bad! We need you to heal him!”

“What kind of injury?” Asked Merlin, calmly packing up his books.

“They took his amulet, and there’s a huge hole in his chest! I could see his lungs!”

Merlin screwed up his lips in thought. “Where are they taking him? To the Heartstone?”

“That’s what Samuel said!”

Merlin didn’t ask who Samuel was, so he probably didn’t care. “I will be there shortly. I must gather the appropriate supplies. Keep him reclined and relaxed. And try not to prod the wound.”

Toby nodded once and then ran back outside to the van.

One of the McDonald employees calmly came over and refilled Merlin’s coffee, as he had asked to be done every hour.

“Good lad. I’m leaving now. Here, for your trouble.” And he dropped a sizable emerald in the kid’s hand.

The kid looked at it and shrugged. “Whatever.” It beat minimum wage at least.

—

At the canal, Claire opened up the portal to Trollmarket while Walter and Samuel started to get Jim out of the van. She ran in and called out, “Blinky! ARRRGH! Jim’s back! He’s hurt!”

ARRRGH came running, while Blinky gathered all sorts of supplies and carried them down to the Heartstone.

It was a mad dash then. Jim was quickly, but carefully, brought down into Heartstone Hall, and rested on his mattress on the floor.

“…cold…” he whispered as he grasped and pulled at the blankets.

Barbara pulled the comforter up to his stomach, and draped a smaller one over his right side. “I know you're cold, but you have a wound, and we can’t cover it yet.”

“…water…”

“I’m on it!” Cried Toby, running upstairs.

Jim groaned out in pain, and the Heartstone responded with a pulse of light.

“Is that good?” Asked Claire.

“The Heartstone is picking up on Jim’s pain, and is releasing magic to aid in his healing!” Said Blinky, with a smile.

“Is that going to deplete the magic we put back into it?”

“No no! Well, maybe…it shouldn’t!”

Jim moaned out again, tensing his whole body, and craning his neck in an effort to find relief.

“Just a little bit longer, sweetie,” said Barbara. “Merlin will be here soon.” She gnawed on her lip. “I could probably get an IV for him from the hospital. I have my phone, so call me if there’s any change!”

“I’ll drive you, Dr. Lake,” said Samuel.

“That’s alright, I’ll take the tunnel to my house and grab my car. That way, you don’t need to be held up here any longer. You’ve been a great help.”

The general smiled. “It was worth it more than I thought. The Trollhunter owes me a favor now, you see. I probably won’t need to collect, but it’s always fun to have that in your back pocket. And besides, I got to see Trollmarket and the Heartstone with my own eyes.” He glanced at the orange stone. “That’s a privilege everyone in the Janus Order longed for.” Before he got too wistful, he turned to Walt. “You’ll let me know how this all turns out, right? Because I’m invested in Mr. Lake’s fate now.”

“I’ll text you updates.”

“Fantastic.” He gave Jim a pat on the shoulder. “Hang in there, Trollhunter.”

“I’ll show you out,” said Barbara as they left together.

Then it was just Blinky, ARRRGH, Claire, and Walt. Time ticked on in silence, as no one knew what to do or say. Only occasional groans from Jim broke the quiet atmosphere.

“What’s taking Merlin so long?” Said Claire, with irritation.

“He’s coming?” Asked Blinky.

“We told him about what happened before we came down here. Said he had to collect ‘appropriate materials’.”

“So he’s collecting materials,” said Walter. “It might take some time.”

“Yeah, but he’s probably doing it at a leisurely pace. The man has no concept of time anymore. We need to get him a phone. Or at least a walkie-talkie.”

Just then, a gallon bucket of ice and water bottles descended on a rope from the center column of the room.

“Heads up! It’s kinda heavy!” Toby called before it hit the ground harshly. Then he nearly tumbled down the stairs himself.

“I got a bunch because I know Jim doesn’t have running water down here yet, and I didn’t want us to run out!” He took a bottle from the bucket and put a silly straw in it so Jim could drink without having to sit up. “Sorry Jim, this is the only straw I have…it says ‘big boy’.” Toby tilted the end of the straw so it touched Jim’s lips.

In his half conscious state, Jim felt it, took it in his mouth, and sucked, emptying half the bottle in one go. He released the straw and licked his lips.

“Better, Jimbo?”

“Uh huh…” Jim managed a little nod.

“Okay. I’ll be on water duty. You just say the word, okay?”

“…For…the glory of Merlin…” Jim tried again, before wincing hard. “Hurts to breathe…”

Claire sat cross legged on the bed next to him, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails. “Just hang on for a little bit longer. Your mom is bringing some medicine from the hospital, and Merlin is going to fix you up.”

His eyes flickered open ever so slightly. “Where am I?”

“You’re in Heartstone Hall, in your bed.”

His eyes closed again. “My amulet…gone.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it right now. Just relax.”

“Hurts…”

“I know, babe, I know.”

Walt stood, looking at his phone. “Barbara’s back. I’ll go help her.” And he left.

Blinky snapped his fingers. “I think Vendal had a recipe for a burn salve up there. I can work on that. Come ARRRGH! It’s the least we can do!”

“Yell if Jim need help,” ARRRGH added, as he followed Blinky up the stairs.

“More water, Jimbo?”

“Huh Uh…”

After he drank, he winced, and a tear rolled from his eye. “I want my mom.”

“She’s coming, Jim. She’s bringing some medicine for you.”

“Where…am I?”

Claire then realized that Jim was barely conscious, and wasn’t listening to much anyways. She’d end up repeating herself a lot.

She pushed his bangs out of his face and kissed his forehead. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re nice and safe, babe.”

Toby and Claire sat in silence as Jim continued to struggle to breathe.

Thankfully, Barbara and Walt appeared not a minute later, with all sorts of goodies.

“Alright kiddo, let’s get you all cleaned up. Claire, would you put on these gloves? I’d like you to clean the skin around his wound with these alcohol swabs while I set up the IV.”

“On it Barb!” Claire got to work quickly, thankful to be able to do something to help.

Walt set up the IV stand while Barbara prepared the needle and inserted it in Jim’s arm.

“I hate that I have to use a thicker gauge needle, but your skin is so tough, kid.”

Jim didn’t seem to even register what she was doing.

Once the IV was in and taped in place, Barbara took out a thick gauze and started taping it in place on Jim’s chest. “The wound isn’t bleeding nearly as much as it should,” she stated, with a frown.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Asked Claire.

“I’m thinking it’s because of the burns on him. They weren’t this bad at the hospital. He had been out in sunlight that day, but it was overcast and he had on long sleeves.” She taped down the gauze with medical masking tape. “No, this looks like...well, third degree on a human. Direct heat like flames or burning metal. I guess that would be a UV light for Jim.”

“I’m going to hammer that lady into the ground,” Toby muttered.

“There, this should be good for now. I’ll bandage him again once Merlin cleans him up.” She rested a weak hand to her head. “Lord help me, I’m depending on Merlin.”

Thankfully, news came by Claire’s phone, with an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Claire? This is Douxie.”

“Douxie! Please tell me you’re with Merlin!”

“I am! Not that I can get his butt moving any faster. He briefed me on the situation, and I’ve been trying to rush him…but, you know how he is…”

She could hear the old man shouting somewhere in the near distance. “Three days? Well he’ll be dead by then! No need for it by that time! You don’t have anything in stock?”

Claire winced. “Where are you guys?”

“At the hardware store, ummm you’re better off not knowing why for now. We’ll be at Trollmarket soon, I promise!”

“Thank you. And thank you for calling. We were getting worried.”

“How is he?”

“Barely conscious. He’s on an IV with pain meds now…so he’ll be feeling a little better. He keeps trying to summon his amulet, but he doesn’t have the strength.”

“Uh oh, he doesn’t have the amulet with him?”

“No, the army wouldn’t give it back.”

Douxie exhaled in a huff. “We’ll figure something out. Oh, Looks like Merlin found an alternative. We’ll be on our way soon!”

“Great! See you!” And she ended the call. “Merlin should be coming soon!”

“Thank goodness!” Barbara sighed. “Though it looks like Jim finally fell asleep. His pain is mostly managed…all we can do now is wait.”

It felt like they were waiting hours. But there was not much else to do.

Jim slept fitfully, occasionally opening his eyes to look around. It was clear he was exhausted, so he’d just close them again a moment later, and they heard his slow breathing.

“This is torture,” said Claire. “But I can’t imagine what he’s been through.”

“I hope that along with her discharge, that Kubritz lady does hard time in prison,” said Toby.

“And I hope they do everything to her that she did to him,” Claire added, with venom. “If they don’t, I will.”

“I’ll back you up.”

It was hard to share small talk, but just listening to Jim’s labored breathing and waiting felt like a terrible option.

Finally, finally, Merlin’s horrible grating voice echoed through the Heartstone husk. “Hello? Is this where the injured Jim is?”

“Yes!” Claire cried out. She was never so happy to hear that man’s voice.

No really, most of the time, his appearance filled her with dread.

Merlin and Douxie descended the stairs, arms full of plastic shopping bags.

And it finally seemed like Merlin was done wasting time, as he spared no greetings and got busy examining Jim. He removed the blanket that covered his shoulder, and the temporary bandages Barbara applied.

He cringed at the sight of the crater. “Yikes. That is quite the wound.”

“Can you heal him?” Claire asked, afraid that he wasn’t up to the task.

“Sure. No problem. Douxie, prepare the plaster.”

“Plaster?” Barbara asked, with horror.

“Ugh, I know,” said the wizard. “Three days for expedited shipping for clay! Ridiculous! I thought the modern era was a time of immediate gratification! But no, the one time I need something quick, it’s a three day wait! Do they not know where the nearest clay deposits are?!”

“Okay, but the plaster? What’s the deal with the plaster?!”

“What else do you expect me to use to fill a wound in a troll?”

“You’re going to pour plaster in his open wound?!”

“Yes! And more!” He glanced over to the bucket Douxie was mixing in. “How’s it coming?”

“Do you want it more watery, or thick?”

“Thick without being too dry.” Then he turned back and leaned in close to Jim. “None of you are going to like what I’m about to do.” He pressed two fingers to Jim’s chest, and spoke, “imperium.”

Jim’s eyes flashed open, wide, pupils expanded so the iris was just a hint of blue.

“Jim Lake Jr., summon your amulet,” Merlin commanded.

Jim raised his hand up in the air slowly and spoke clearly, “for the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command.”

Then Merlin let go, and Jim fell back into slumber, Claire having to catch his hand before it smacked him in the face.

“What was that?” She asked.

“I thought it was fairly obvious. A mind control spell. Very weak, only works on unconscious individuals within range.”

“You know Mind Control?” Asked Toby, with some horror.

“To a degree. As I said. It’s more like the power of suggestion. Morgana has learned how to fully possess someone’s mind, but I always preferred to use my natural charisma to persuade people.”

Someone snorted.

“The plaster is ready,” said Douxie. “Did you want to start with the strips?”

“Yes,” he collected the tray Douxie had prepared. Mesh cloth strips sprayed with plaster, which created a base. Carefully, Merlin began to lay the strips in the hole in Jim’s chest, applying just enough pressure to adhere them and blend the edges. Once he had completely coated the inside, without filling the hole, he stopped.

“There, now we’ll treat his burns. You said you had electricity down here?”

“Uh, yeah. There’s an outlet on the wall next to you,” said Claire.

“Perfect.” From his various bags, he took out a palm sander with a coarse paper on it. He plugged it in. “Now how do I work this thing?”

“Why don’t you let me handle that while you use the file…” Douxie took the power tool away from him. “Claire, can you sit him up and lean against his back as a counter weight?”

“The file? I don’t want to use the file! I got this so you would use the file!”

“Merlin!” Barbara scolded.

“Fine, I’ll use the file…better for fine detailing anyways.”

It was agonizing moments as Douxie buffed away the dried, burnt skin that came off like dust, while Merlin shucked off the chunks that were too thick for the sander.

Jim, for the most part, only twitched and cried out on occasion, only when they got too close to fresh skin.

Once he was rubbed raw and bright blue, a little bloody in some places, they stopped.

“It’s like an extreme pumice stone,” Douxie tried to soothe, feeling guilty as Claire wiped her tears. “The skin affected by the sun, or UV lights or whatever, was solid stone and had to come off.”

“I know,” said Claire. “It was just…jarring.”

“Alright, we’re almost done,” said Merlin, scrounging up some compassion. “You can recline him again, Fair Claire.”

Gently, Claire laid him back down on the pillows.

Merlin took the loose plaster and slopped a bit in the wound, trying to make up for the missing space.

Then, from the stairs came a ‘plink, plunk, plink, plunk’ as the amulet rolled its way down and stopped at Merlin’s feet. “Got here faster than I anticipated. I’d love to see the damage it did on it’s way.”

“I thought if someone stole the amulet, it wouldn’t come back?” Asked Toby.

“Not unless it’s properly summoned. If it only chooses one Trollhunter, you think it would want to be anywhere else?” Merlin cleaned the amulet with a rag to a near mirror shine, before placing it back in its spot on Jim’s chest.

“Can’t you just keep it out of him? What if something like this happens again?”

“Then we’ll just have to buy more plaster,” shrugged Merlin. “Anyway, it’s better this way.” He smeared more plaster in the cracks and smoothed it with his hands, until the seam was perfectly even.

“Now what?”

“The plaster should start to dry soon, and a chemical reaction will take place, putting off heat. Then I will start the incantation.”

“Why then?”

“Must everything I do be questioned?”

“Yes.” Said everyone, unanimously.

“Because I said so. That’s why.” He touched the plaster, careful not to jostle it, and waited for the heat to set in. “Alright, I suggest everyone stand back. You too, Claire, get behind me.”

Claire scooted off the bed and stood back with Toby and Barbara, then they waited anxiously.

“It’s going to look and sound painful, but a little bit of pain, and he’ll be all better.” Merlin’s hands glowed blue, interacting with the pulsing, ticking amulet. Instead of a one word spell, like he had been doing, Merlin muttered a fast string of words that sounded like nothing and everything at the same time. Lightning bolts skittered from his fingertips, and drew patterns on Jim’s flesh.

Jim screamed and writhed as every bolt connected. They danced across the plaster, turning it to his hardened flesh as they moved. The hands on the amulet spun rapidly as the stone pulsed a violent blue. The wound from Morgana, lower on his chest, flickered orange like embers. The Heartstone glowed as well.

Claire felt her hair stand on end and goosebumps rise to her skin. The magic in the room was deafening, blinding, and amazing.

Finally, Merlin halted, and only smoke remained.

Jim breathed deep, quick breaths, like you would after a run. But it wasn’t labored or halted, like before.

“Cl-Claire?” He asked, his voice stronger than it had been.

She nearly tackled him. “Jim! Jim you’re alright!”

He winced slightly as she collided with his raw skin, but hugged her anyway. “Where am I?”

“You’re home!”

“Home?”

“It’s a long story. How do you feel?”

“Tired, hungry…a little sore. I remember being in a lot of pain…” he looked down at his chest, touching the amulet in confusion.

“Merlin just healed you,” she explained. “They hurt you pretty bad, huh?”

He rolled his neck and stretched his shoulders. “No kidding.”

“Well,” said Merlin, “my work here is done. I think I’m ready for a nap of my own.”

“Thank you, Merlin,” Barbara said sincerely. “Thank you for saving my boy.”

“Of course! You didn’t think I was going to leave my greatest warrior to die, did you? Oh, before I forget, I should probably give this back.” He handed a black wallet over to her.

“Wait, whose is this?”

“James’. I needed to pay for the sander somehow.”

Barbara laughed. “Well, he’s not going to be happy about it, but glad to know he contributed to this too.” Then she muttered, “considering it’s all his fault in the first place.”

By the end of the day, Jim was up. Not fully recovered, but enough to shuffle around. He was able to go to his mother’s house and take a shower, while Barbara changed the blood-stained, plaster dusted sheets. When he was all clean, he sat in the living room in his sweatpants, exhausted, and aching.

“Blinky made you a salve, if you want me to put it on you,” Claire offered, holding up a little jar.

“I’d love that.”

She delicately rubbed it into his skin, like Aloe on a severe sunburn. Careful not to scratch him, but also wanting to make sure he was covered.

James walked past the room and halted. “Jim! You’re—you’re back!”

Jim just glanced at the man. “And?”

“I just…um, look, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t know…that you ate trash. I would have made the drop for the cocaine somewhere else. I didn’t think—that’s not something people usually have to worry about, you know?”

“Yeah. Usually.” Jim said, stone cold.

“How are you feeling?”

“Why do you care?”

“B-because you’re my son?”

Jim couldn’t stifle the eye roll. “So NOW you think I’m your son? Where was that mentality when you pointed a shotgun at me?”

“I was in a severe crack withdrawal when I did that.”

“And you’re just magically better now?”

James sat in an armchair opposite him. “I’m not going to say yes, but I’m better. I’m trying to get out of your and Babs’ lives, because I brought so much hurt in the first place. But…seeing what I’m missing out on—“

“No!” Jim snarled, standing up. “You don’t get to be sentimental now. You don’t get to change your mind. You suck! That’s all you’ve done! Mom’s moved on, I have men that are more fatherly than you could ever be if you tried! So just—finish your business and get lost!” He tried to step towards the basement, but he crumbled, still far too physically weak to walk on his own.

“I got you,” Claire whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. “James,” she turned to look at him briefly. “I don’t know if you realized how crappy that thing you just said was. Don’t try to get Jim’s hopes up. He’s hurt, he’s upset, he’s vulnerable. So just stay away. If you truly want to be back in Jim’s life, don’t mention that you’re considering it. Back it up with action, or else you’ll just be disappointing us all when you go back. And as far as I know…your word is worthless.” She helped Jim walk slowly back to the basement, to the tunnel back to Trollmarket.

“Trouble? I heard yelling,” said Draal.

“No, no trouble. Thanks Draal,” Jim gave him a weak, affectionate punch.

—

Many many miles away, a group of men watched the news, an old broadcast that one of them had snagged.

“—The campaign worked perfectly! Now, hero to Arcadia, James Lake Jr. has been released from his wrongful imprisonment for his bizarre appearance, and returned home. Lake is hailed a local hero, as his acts of kindness and selflessness during a horrendous tornado in the area have become well known in the community as well as on social media. A parade in Lake’s honor is set for this weekend, as Lake has made a good progression in his recovery from captivity.”

“Okay, a kid was arrested because he looks weird. Not sure what the correlation is.”

The leader of the pack smiled. “Oh, it’s such a subtle thing. We don’t care about the kid, or his deeds, or even the city of Arcadia really.”

“Then…what?”

“Did you catch the boy’s name?”

“I…Lake? Like…”

“Jim Lake Jr. is what they said. Maybe a common name. But if there’s a Junior…perhaps there’s a Senior nearby.”

—

I have not seen Rise of the Titans (though I expect to watch it this weekend) but I heard it was…not good, story wise. So in this fic, I won’t be applying any of it. Probably. Unless something juicy catches my eye.

#toa #trollhunters #arcadia or bust #jim lake junior #claire nuñez #fanfiction #fanfic

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Day 20: Moxiety

@tsshipmonth2020

(Yes this is out of order, but I figured I’d rather give you guys out of order content than no content at all. Hope that’s okay.)

Day 20 - You can send one item to your soulmate every year.

Content warning: Christmas, food mentions, homophobic family members mentions, serious fluffiness.

Word count: 2.7k

Songs mentioned in this fic: “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” and “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.

Patton’s eyes scanned over the letter, barely reading the words he’d read many times before. After the first time he’d gotten one, years ago, he’d re-read it so many times he’d committed it to memory.

Patton Hart,

You are receiving this notice to inform you that the annual soulmate item exchange is arriving. On December 24th, BEFORE MIDNIGHT, please bring your package to your nearest postal service or drop box, marked clearly with the provided adhesive label on the TOP. Item must be contained in the shipping box provided. Other boxes will not be accepted. If the drop off time is missed, your package will not be received.

There was no signature, no return address, no number to call. At first, he’d been slightly suspicious, since everyone he asked had no further information than what was on the small letter, but after the first year, when a beautiful black and gold notebook and a matching pen had shown up on his doorstep on Christmas morning, he’d decided to heck with his worries. Despite his initial curiosity, he’d sent a gift anyways (if it was legitimate, he wasn’t about to leave his partner without a present!), a grey beanie that he’d stitched a small heart and message into.

He giddily placed the letter back into the envelope and stuck it into the gap between the hallway mirror and the wall so he wouldn’t forget. Although, he doubted he would. He’d already bought a present, months ago, when his eyes fell upon a black and purple striped sweater in the window of the mall. The black thin stripes occasionally jumped, looking like the lines on a heart monitor, and it hooked him instantly. It was simplistic yet eye catching and unique, like the gifts Patton always received from his soulmate, so he immediately bought it and wrapped it as soon as he got home. He didn’t know his soulmate’s size, but you really can’t go wrong with an extra large (baggy sleeves are ideal, after all).

His time passed quickly, filled with movie nights with his roommate (who insisted on watching Nightmare before Christmas at least once a week) and trying new Christmas cookie recipes. It was his favorite holiday, with the songs and the decorations and the ever present smell of cinnamon in every store, so the moment they had passed Halloween, every moment was filled with his Christmas playlists and cheesy holiday sweaters. His family was coming to his place for their celebration this year, so the place was decked out with tinsel and little snowy villages, candles and fairy lights on every wall, and of course, their tree in the corner of the living room. It was going to be… amazing.

He’d offered to take his roommate’s soulmate item along with him to the post office, seeing as he was uneasy in high crowd situations, and soulmate exchange days were always insanely busy. It had been the right move, too, because as soon as the office came into view, he could already see the crowd of people milling outside, trying to get into the small door. What could you expect, though, only giving people a twenty four hour window to all show up to the same spot? By the time he got inside and got both packages passed to the handler on the other side (an arduous process, since they had to check each gift thoroughly to ensure there were no cards or any other way to identify the sender), it was dark outside. All he wanted to do was curl up with some hot chocolate and watch the Grinch, as the two of them had planned.

That’s what they did, falling asleep on the couch in the process. They were awoken in the morning by a knock at the door, Patton gently extracting himself from Virgil’s arms and turning off the TV, cringing that the cover screen of the movie had been on all night. The other mumbled in annoyance at his heat source disappearing and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s too early.”

“Merry Christmas, Virge!” Patton shrieked, ignoring his roommate’s mock irritated snarl as he gave him a tight hug. “Let’s go get our gifts!”

Begrudgingly, Virgil followed him to the door that he flung open, revealing two small parcels on the step. The labels from the senders had been replaced with simple name tags, another way to ensure that their soulmates would not be traceable. The other houses on the block all had similar ones outside their doors, and the carrier was nowhere to be seen, as usual. He picked them both up, handing Virgil his, and running back into the kitchen to get scissors, pretty much vibrating with glee.

“I’m making coffee first. You want some?”

Patton hummed, looking between the gift before him and Virgil’s tired eyes. “This can wait. Let’s have coffee.”

Virgil was barely able to conceal with excitement at being chosen over a Christmas present by someone who was essentially an overgrown child, pulling out two mugs. He passed his package to Patton, who placed it beside his on the table, and shuffled around his roommate to start on breakfast.

“It’s Christmas. You’re going to eat breakfast for once,” Patton interrupted the moment Virgil started complaining, grinning widely when he finally agreed.

“Do you ever wonder who your soulmate’s gonna be? What they’ll be like?” Virgil asked as he poured the coffee grounds, dangerously precise as always. The elder hummed.

“They’re your soulmate. So I guess, a perfect match to you. It’s not like they won’t like you or anything. That’s against the whole point!” An egg sizzled as it hit the pan, quickly followed by another.

“I guess,” He mumbled, clicking the on button on the machine. The smell of coffee quickly filled the small kitchen, “So when is your family getting here?”

“Around noon,” Patton chirped, flipping the first egg while simultaneously popping bread in the toaster with his other hand, “I like to cook, but my moms don’t trust me to make the main dish alone. My sisters are super excited to be old enough to help make food this year-- it’s so cute. But yeah, they should be here by noon.”

Virgil cracked a pained smile, watching the dripping coffee into the pot. “Okay. I’ll be out of your hair by then.”

Patton’s hand froze in mid air, whipping around to his roommate. “Excuse me?”

“I said I’ll be gone by then,” Virgil repeated, looking down to play with the hem of his sweater, “Do you want me to leave earlier? I can if you want.” His voice very nearly cracked as he spoke, tone getting quieter with each word. Patton’s heart shattered.

“Why do you think I want you to leave?” He whispered, blindly shutting the stove off behind him so the eggs wouldn’t burn. The toast popping startled them both, but neither could find it in them to laugh as they usually would have. Virgil shrugged.

“I mean, your family’s coming over. I’m not family. And I know you were super excited for them to come over, and I don’t want to… ruin the vibe,” He shook his fingers in weak jazz hands, shooting a watery grin at Patton. “I was just planning to go to the mall or something. I think it’s open-”

His words were silenced as Patton threw his arms around Virgil’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. It was no secret that Virgil didn’t get along well with his own family. That was the understatement of the year, really. Patton didn’t know the details, refused to pry, all he knew is that it had something to do with Virgil coming out to a pretty conservative family, an action that ended with him being split off from everyone. He had lost his little brother to his parents cutting contact, among other things, and Patton realized with a start that this was Virgil’s first Christmas without his family.

In the single year they’d been roommates, the two had grown closer than any childhood friend Patton had kept throughout the years. Heck, he’d maybe consider them closer than he was with his moms, and that was saying a lot. For them to even fall asleep on the couch after a movie night, as they’d done last night, was a regular occurrence for them. They admitted secrets to each other they hadn’t fully admitted to themselves, about their own aromantic natures, about what that meant for soulmates, about what kind of pie was the best. Not all their conversations were deep.

“You are family, Virge,” Patton whispered, resting his chin on the other’s shoulder. “And unless you have a legitimate reason not to, you’re staying here. My family will love you, I swear,” He added quickly, knowing the other’s tendency to grow anxious around new people.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin-”

“I will physically fight you,” He hissed before the other could finish, pulling out of the hug with a soft kiss to his temple. “Stay. For me?”

“Fine,” Virgil rolled his eyes, turning away in fake annoyance to pour their coffee, “For you.” He had a reputation to uphold after all, and him nearly crying was not great for it.

Just as they finished breakfast, Patton eyeing his present next to him with, again, startling resemblance to an excited child, there was a knock at the door. The roommates shared a confused glance, silently communicating that ‘no, I’m not expecting anyone’ before Patton got up to open it. He’d barely unlocked the latch when it burst open of its own accord, a loud shriek of “PATTY!” echoing through the small entryway.

“You guys are early!” Patton laughed as two small girls attempted to squeeze him to death around his torso, the pair having the same blond curls as Patton.

“These two just couldn’t wait to see you,” A woman Virgil assumed to be one of Patton’s mother’s smiled, angling above the girls to give Patton a gentle hug which he eagerly returned.

He quickly led them all inside, introducing a nearly shaking Virgil to his family. His other mom was carrying a box laden with uncooked food, and began to set it out in the small kitchen to begin preparing it. The girls, after a bit of hesitation, flocked to Virgil.

“Why’s your hair purple?” One asked, pulling herself onto Virgil’s lap. Her southern accent was just as strong as her moms’, reminding him of the accent Patton had slowly lost since moving in with him. It wasn’t gone all the way, just dimmed, but from the kitchen, he could hear his roommate talking to his moms animatedly, the accent back in all its glory.

“I drank too much grape soda,” Virgil lamented, “When I was little, I couldn’t get enough of it. And then it turned my hair purple.”

“No, it didn’t!” The girl leaning on his knee giggled.

“Are you saying I’m a liar?” He gasped, placing a hand over his heart, “How dare you!”

They both erupted into shrieking laughs, causing Patton to poke his head out of the kitchen. Virgil couldn’t help grinning widely at him as the second girl pulled herself onto his lap as well, causing Patton’s face to light up like the sun.

“Did you know Christmas is my favorite holiday?”

“Is it really? Why’s that?” Virgil asked, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s mine, too!”

“Nu uh, it’s only mine!”

“We can have the same favorite!”

“Nu uh!”

----------------------------------------------

Patton collapsed back onto the couch, groaning loudly. The tree was the only light in the darkened living room, the air still warm and smelling like the dinner they’d enjoyed hours ago. It was quiet again, his family gone back home. He’d missed them immensely, but he’d forgotten how loud they could be. His feet shifted on the floor, rustling the wrapping paper left over by his hurricane twin sisters; a mess he’d clean up tomorrow. Footsteps approached from down the hall, signalling his roommates arrival, and the speaker on the mantle started to quietly play “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”, Frank Sinatra’s soft voice drifting through the air.

“I’m so full,” He groaned again, resting his head on the back of the couch.

“Mood,” Virgil said, dropping next to him. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Virgil was just as tired as him. Tired, in the best way possible.

“You’re really good with kids,” Patton noted with a smile.

“Tell anyone and they’ll never find your body,” He deadpanned and Patton snorted, before he continued, “They’re the same age as my brother.”

“Oh,” He whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. I miss him. A lot. But this was the best Christmas I’ve probably ever had. No homophobic family members, no shouting matches, just… family. It was nice.”

“Hard to be homophobic when you have two moms,” Patton joked, relieved that Virgil snickered.

“Probably would be, yeah.”

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,

With every Christmas card I write,

May your days be merry and bright,

And may all your Christmas’ be white.

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, relishing in the silence of the house. The tree sparkled, lighting up the blank walls in rainbow hues, their conglomerate mix of thrift store ornaments shifting and reflecting the light. People shouted outside, joyful noises, and kids laughed, their neighbors wrapping up their own holiday celebration.

Patton opened his eyes as he felt something placed on his lap, looking down in confusion before grinning.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot!”

Virgil smiled sheepishly, shifting his own box between his hands. “I put them into my room when your family showed up.”

“Smart move. The twins would have torn them open.” Patton dropped off the couch onto the floor, sitting cross legged and shaking with anticipation. With a laugh, Virgil joined him when he gestured to the floor in front of him. He reached up and took his keys from the mantle, slicing open the duct tape on his box before handing it to Patton to do the same.

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,

Like the ones I used to know,

Where the treetops glisten and children listen,

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

They opened their boxes in unison, Patton gasping when he saw the item in his. He pulled out the large, black fuzzy blanket, blue paw prints the size of Patton’s palm decorating the surface. A high pitched squeal burst from his lips as he squished the blanket to his chest, shoving his face in the soft fabric.

“Virgil, look! Isn’t it-”

His words caught in his throat at the expression on Virgil’s face; one of absolute shock. He was clutching his gift in white knuckles, and Patton’s mouth went dry when he caught the distinct black heart-beat-esque lines on the purple sweater.

“Oh,” Patton whispered, both of them frozen, looking at the gift they’d bought in the other’s arms. “Oh!”

“You’re my soulmate!” They both stated at the same time, breaking off into giggles.

“I guess so,” Virgil gasped, smiling as Patton pretty much leapt into his arms, trying to maneuver his hands around the other’s shoulders while still clutching the black blanket.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so relieved! You’re aro and I’m aro and it’s not going to be awkward with someone else, and I don’t have to explain and oh my gosh this is so fantastic!”

They both dissolved into another laughing fit, Virgil finally able to wind his arms around the other and pulling him closer. The end of the song slowly dwindled down as they both untangled themselves, unable to stop grinning. There was a moment of silence in the room as Virgil picked up a shrieking Patton and dropped him onto the couch, their sides sore from laughter, and essentially settled on top of him.

“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” filled the room with soft violin swings as the two fell into a blissful sleep, wrapped in their respective gifts, more at peace than they’d been in… who knows how long.

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #moxiety #patton sanders #virgil sanders #ts soulmate au #sanders sides #sanderssides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau

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stardusttkachuk · 4 years

Text

Baking

Pairing: Reggie x Reader

Word Count: 800

Warnings: nothin but fluff

Summary: Reggie is being a pest while you’re trying to bake, so you decide to teach him how to bake too.

A/N: this is day 9 of starduststarkey’s 12 days of Christmas fics. Check out my masterlist for more!

“Ohhh, those look good!” Reggie pointed to the cookies, reaching to grab one.

“No!” You said, swatting his hand only to go straight through it. Stupid ghost boyfriend problems. “Reggie do not touch my cookies! They’re for Lynn’s schools bake sale.”

“Well why are you baking them and not Lynn?” Reggie asked.

Lynn was your 10 year old sister. You narrowed your eyes at Reggie, silently giving him one chance to think of a reason why that wouldn’t be a good idea.

He couldn’t come up with one.

“She’s 10. She’d probably burn the house down if I let her bake.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind if I have one cookie, Y/N/N,” he drew out your nickname, reaching for one of the cookies.

“Reginald!” You brought out the full name, making Reggie gasp. “You can have one when I’m done, okay?”

Reggie crossed his arms with a pout. “Fine. Can I at least stay?”

“As long as you promise not to eat any of the cookies.”

“Promise,” he said.

You turned your back towards him, keeping the fresh cookies in your peripheral vision. You scooped out some more of the chocolate chip cookie dough, placing little balls on the baking sheet.

“You’re so focused,” Reggie commented, leaning against the counter as he watched you. “It’s cute.”

You blushed. “Thank you.”

You set the bowl on the counter and moved to place the second batch in the oven. You should have known better than turning your back on him because when you turned back around, he had managed to grab a spoonful of the dough.

“Reggie!” You yelled.

“What? You said not to eat the cookies. I’m not eating the cookies, I’m eating the dough.”

You glared at him. “You’ll get sick if you eat the dough.”

“I don’t think ghosts get sick,” Reggie said, grabbing himself another spoonful of dough before you pulled the bowl away from him.

“Okay, if you’re going to sit and eat my dough, then you can’t stay.”

“I won’t eat any more dough.”

“And no cookies either. No more loopholes,” you added.

“Darn it,” he mumbled.

You grinned, knowing you had caught him.

—

The oven beeped with the newest batch of cookies and you placed them on a cooling rack, then scooped out the remaining batter.

“You wanna help me make the next batch?” You asked, rinsing out the bowl you had been using. “This one we can eat, since it’s not going to the bake sale.”

“Yes!” Reggie said excitedly.

You set the stand mixer up, grabbing the stick of room temperature butter and the sugar and combining them into the bowl. “And then mix on low speed. And while that is mixing we combine all the dry ingredients. Think you can grab the flour?”

Reggie nodded and looked at the ingredients you had all set out. He read each one until he came across the flour, carefully opening it up. “How much?”

“2 and a half cups,” you said.

He grabbed the measuring cup, sticking it into the flour container and scooping it out until it was level. He dumped it into the second bowl, then dumped another.

“And a half,” he said to himself as he found the half cup.

“Okay, now half a teaspoon of baking powder,” you said.

“Wait. Are you following a recipe or do you know this all in your head?” He asked as he found the baking powder and the teaspoon to measure it.

You laughed at his question. “It’s all in my head. I’ve been baking for years now.”

“Huh,” he said. “That’s awesome. What’s next?”

“Quarter teaspoon of salt and then we mix the wet and dry ingredients together.”

—

“These turned out great!” Reggie said as he admired the sugar cookies you had made together.

You ended up with four less than the recipe had yielded thanks to Reggie eating the dough, but they did look amazing.

“Shall we try them?” You asked, picking up one for you and one for him.

“We shall,” he said, taking one from you.

You clinked your cookies together before each taking a bite, smiling around how delicious they were.

“These are amazing,” he moaned, taking another bite. “They're even better cooked!”

You laughed, finishing up your cookie. “Thank you. It’s Grandma’s secret recipe.”

“Well Grandma knew how to make a mean sugar cookie!” he added.

You picked up one of the chocolate chip cookies and broke it in half, holding out one half to him. “I always thought her chocolate chip cookies were the best.”

Reggie’s face lit up like a Christmas tree as he reached for the half of the cookie. He savored every bite of it. “Oh yeah. These are amazing.”

“You’re lucky I inherited her baking skills and all her recipes.”

Reggie nodded, licking his fingers clean. “If I ever see her, I’ll be sure to thank her.”

#reggie peters #reggie #reggie x reader #jatp #julie and the phatoms #reggie peters x reader #reggie fic #reggie fluff #reggie peters fic #reggie peters fluff #jatp fic #jatp fluff #julie and the phantoms fic #julie and the phantoms fluff

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nikki-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

Beauty In the Blood - Part Three

Summary: One day your friend convinces you to join a dating website that matches people based on their search histories, and when you match with Loki Odinson, a handsome, intelligent coroner who’s a fan of your murder mysteries, you’re absolutely thrilled. But there’s something off about Loki, and as your relationship progresses, you discover that his dark side is even darker than you could ever have imagined…

Pairing: Serial Killer!Loki x Writer!Reader

Read part two here!

Read part four here!

A/N: This story is based off of this post! I hope you guys enjoy; this is my first time writing Loki, and this will probably be the darkest thing I’ve ever written. Please let me know what you think as the story progresses!

A/N”: So, if the gif usage isn’t enough, here is a quick warning - here be smut! It’s important smut, though. It’s porn with a smidge of plot. :D Enjoy!

You did a once-over of your home one more time, wanting to make sure everything was perfect before your guest arrived. You’d cleaned everything top to bottom, taking the majority of the day to make sure everything was just so – you’d even dusted, something you’d never really bothered with before. But your hard work was worth it; everything was all but gleaming, and the whole house smelled of lemon and fresh linen.

Right at 6:30, you heard your doorbell ring, and you felt your pulse rate skyrocket. On the way to your front door, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, brushing an errant strand of your hair out of your face and smoothing down the front of your little black dress. You smiled at your reflection, thinking about the surprise you had in store for Loki under your clothes. The lingerie set had been on the pricier side of things, but you already knew that it had been worth it.

After taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling butterflies spring to life in your belly at the sight of your date. Loki was dressed in a pair of black trousers, a dark green button-down, and a black sports coat; your eyes trailed up and down his figure, lingering for a second on the golden watch that was looped around his wrist. It was the perfect accessory to his ensemble, and you were thankful that you’d decided to dress up for the evening.

“Hello, there,” you grinned, and Loki’s smile matched yours as he took in your appearance.

“Good evening,” he replied, stepping inside. He leaned down, pressing a chaste but lingering kiss to your lips, and though the date had only just begun, you were already left wanting for more. “You look ravishing, as always.”

“I could say the same about you.”

You looked down to his hands, just then noticing the bottle of wine he held in them. He followed your gaze, lifting it up so you could see the label.

“Ah, yes. I hope this will suffice; I didn’t know if you preferred red or white…”

“This is perfect,” you assured him. “But, if I’m being honest, I don’t really know all that much about wine. I do know that I like to drink it, though.”

For a moment, you were afraid that your admission would make you come across as uncultured, but Loki just chuckled.

“Well, that is the most important thing when it comes to wine,” he remarked. “Dinner smells delicious, by the way.”

“I did say I was going to seduce you with my cooking.” You took the bottle of wine from him and lead him into the dining room. You’d laid out a white cloth over your table, and there was a candle burning in its very center; you were very pleased with how romantic it made the room look. “Make yourself at home! I’ll go make our plates.”

“Nonsense, love. I insist on helping.”

“Oh, you really don’t have-“

“I insist,” he repeated.

“Well… That’s very sweet of you, Loki. Thank you.”

With that, you led him into your kitchen, setting out two glasses for your wine before pulling out some plates. After searching for recipes the night before, you’d found one for a pasta dish that you thought Loki might enjoy. It was among the more complicated things you’d cooked in your lifetime, but you were determined to impress your boyfriend. At least, you thought he was your boyfriend. Significant other? …Man friend?

You busied yourself with scooping the pasta onto the plates while Loki opened the bottle of wine and began pouring glasses for the two of you.

“So,” he said, breaking the moment of silence. “How has the writing been coming along?”

“It’s going pretty well, I think,” you answered. “I sent my editor the first chapter of my new book and she loved it; she’s a close friend of mine, and she’s always good about being honest with me about my work.”

“I’m almost jealous that she gets to read it before I do,” he chuckled.

“Well, maybe I’ll let you take a peek sometime. How has work been going for you?”

“Oh… Same old, same old. No interesting deaths today. Just a few old ladies who died of heart failure. And one poor sap who died in a hit and run.”

“Oh, gosh,” you murmured. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Loki shrugged, walking into the dining room to set your glasses down before coming back and taking his plate from you. You followed him with yours and took the seat across from his.

“Does it ever get to you?” you asked, watching as he took a sip of his wine. “Your job, that is. I couldn’t imagine dealing with death as intimately as you do.”

You took a sip from your own glass as he thought about his response, noting that he’d picked out a dry blend that you were sure would compliment the pasta well. If you’d followed the recipe the right way, at least.

“…I won’t lie,” Loki finally said. “Not to you; I know death should bother me more than it does. I’ve never been terrified of it, as some people are. Nor does it make me uncomfortable; even the most gruesome of the bodies I’ve autopsied haven’t so much as turned my stomach. But there is a moment, when I first see a body, that always takes me off guard. The transition from being a living, breathing organism to becoming a lifeless, empty object, it’s always something humans perceive as unnatural. Even humans like me who work with corpses four days a week.”

You nodded your head, studying the man across from you as he twirled a bite of fettuccini onto his fork before popping it into his mouth. You waited with bated breath as he chewed and swallowed, but your worries were put to rest when he looked up at you with a smile.

“It’s wonderful, darling,” he chuckled. “You can relax.”

Your shoulders visibly slumped with relief, and both of you shared a laugh before digging into your meals in earnest. You turned over his words as you ate your first few bites, shaking your head and smiling to yourself.

“What is it?” he asked, arching a curious eyebrow.

“Just… You. You’re such a unique person, Loki,” you said. “You’re special. It’s not every day that I meet someone who isn’t at least a little concerned by the macabre stories I write. But you, you actively enjoy them. Plus, it’s so rare to find someone who shares my morbid interests who isn’t, you know, a psychopath.”

Loki chuckled at that, and his eyebrows twitched upwards as he took a quick gulp of his wine.

“Ah, well,” he grinned. “I could always be one, you know. I might just have you fooled.”

You narrowed your eyes, setting your chin in your palm as you studied him.

“Mm… I suppose,” you conceded. “You could be the villain in my own story for all I know.”

You smiled, then, before turning back to your meal.

“But I don’t think you are,” you added, oblivious to the intensity in Loki’s eyes as he watched you.

The rest of the meal went by without much incident, and Loki once again insisted on helping you before starting to load the dishes into the dishwasher. You, for your part, surprised him by pulling a pie from the local bakery out of your fridge, and soon, the two of you were curled up on your sofa, each with a small slice of pie sitting on a plate in their hands.

You had the thought, as you were sitting there, that conversation was so much easier with Loki than you would’ve expected. On the surface, Loki seemed intimidating; he was always so put-together, and his wit was sharp enough to cut through anyone, but for some reason, as you sat there talking about everything and nothing, you didn’t feel the need to filter yourself at all with him.

…Or, maybe, that was just the second glass of wine talking.

“…It’s killing me inside, you know.”

You snapped to attention upon your date’s sudden declaration, and you frowned in confusion.

“What is-“

“Not knowing what you’re writing, other than it’s a story with a main character who you’ve admitted to basing off of me,” Loki clarified.

A smile came to your lips, and you chuckled as you scraped the edge of your fork across your plate, gathering the crumbs and filling left over from your pie onto your utensil before bringing it up to your lips. You watched as Loki’s gaze settled onto your mouth as you licked up the last of your dessert, and you couldn’t help the smirk that spread over your face.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat, “I suppose that I could let you read the first chapter…”

His eyes snapped up to yours once more, and eagerness was glittering in them, along with a deeper, smoldering feeling that made your breath catch in your lungs.

“I would love that, darling.”

And that was how you found yourself, a few minutes later, perched on top of your desk just to the right of your laptop, watching Loki as he read what you had written so far. You studied his profile as he leaned over your computer, a furrow forming between his brows as he concentrated on the screen. One of his hands was absentmindedly resting on your knee, tracing nonsensical patterns into your skin as you waited with bated breath. Your lip was already sore from how much you’d been chewing on it; you really wanted him to like what you’d written. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to let him read it; what if-

“Darling, I… I love this,” he suddenly murmured, his head tilting back as he finally tore his gaze away from the words. “I think this might be my favorite beginning to any of the books you’ve written.”

You felt your cheeks heat up from his praise, and you looked away as you tried to fight the large smile that had come over your face.

“I… You don’t mean that,” you stammered, but Loki’s hand came up to cup your cheek, turning you back to face him. When you saw the look on his face, you felt your mouth go dry and your thighs press together; his smile had fallen, and he was focused solely, intensely, on you. There was a quiet desperation shimmering in his eyes, and you gulped as you felt yourself automatically straighten up.

“I loved it, darling,” he uttered, sincerity evident from his tone. “The beginning of the chapter immediately made me feel captivated by Olivia, and the first killing scene immediately set the tone for the rest of the story.”

As he spoke, you watched as he slowly stood from his chair, and the breath caught in your lungs when he stepped between your legs. His hands were cold as they came to rest on your thighs, just below the hem of your dress, and you couldn’t stifle the gasp that left your lips when he abruptly shoved them apart, taking the opportunity to press his body against yours. Those same frigid fingers came up to brush against your neck, pushing your hair back so he could whisper against your ear.

“The way that she drew it out, torturing her victim in that controlled, calculative way…” His lips pressed a kiss to your cheek before he dragged them along your jaw line, and your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his breath settle over your lips.

“It shows you exactly what sort of a monster she is,” he finished, just seconds before his hands once again settled on your waist, pulling you towards him for a searing kiss.

Hungry. That was the only word you could use to describe the way his mouth moved against yours. There was a feverish passion that seeped from him to you through the caress; you could taste it on his tongue, sweet and yet bitter at the same time, just like the wine you’d shared. His fingers were digging into your flesh, squeezing you as he pinned you against him, and you felt heat pool in your belly when he pressed his hips to yours; you could already feel his cock growing hard.

Loki’s tongue explored your mouth, tangling together with yours and gliding along the back of your teeth; he took his time with you, undoing every ounce of self-control you possessed as the seconds ticked away. For your part, you didn’t know where to put your hands; one moment, they were settled over his biceps. The next, they were in his hair or on his chest or clawing at his back as he ground his hips against yours.

A disappointed huff left your lips when Loki pulled away, and he arched his eyebrows, giving you a wicked grin.

“What is it?” he chuckled, his hands reaching for yours. You tried your best not to pout as he laced his fingers through yours, resting your connected hands on either side of your hips.

“I…” You hesitated, looking Loki up and down. A strand of hair was falling down into his eyes, and even though the expression on his face was one of confidence, you could see the way his chest was taking in ragged breaths, heaving in and out as he leaned over you; he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. No doubt, the fire in your belly was burning in his, too, if the tent in his trousers was anything to go by.

“I… I want you to stay the night,” you breathed, and though it could have just been your imagination, you could have sworn that you saw his pupils dilate as you said it.

No words needed to be spoken before his lips were on yours again, and you smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You broke away, though, when a startled gasp parted your lips as Loki suddenly gripped your hips and pulled, wrapping your legs around his waist as he picked you up. You clutched his shoulders as he started walking out of your office, surprised that he could support your weight.

“How are you this strong?” you whispered under your breath, incredulous. You hadn’t even meant for Loki to hear you, really, but the upturn of his lips showed that he clearly did.

“I’m not as wiry as I look, believe it or not,” he snarked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before making a beeline to your stairs. “I assume the bedroom is up here?”

You nodded, and he immediately headed upstairs, not even breaking a sweat despite having you in his arms. Once you reached the upstairs landing, you pointed towards your bedroom door, and he immediately darted towards it, nudging it open with his hip as he kissed you once more. You felt butterflies erupt in your belly as he walked with you towards the bed; this was finally going to happen. You were going to make love to Loki.

Your back hit the mattress harder than you’d expected, and you bounced against it a few times as Loki stood over you. You gulped, propping yourself up on your elbows and watching as Loki took his sports coat off, draping it over the chair you kept by your bedroom door.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he suddenly asked, looking at you with a smirk as he started to unbutton his shirt. “Strip.”

Understanding washed over you, and you drew yourself up onto your knees, reaching behind you to lower the zipper of your dress. Loki stalked over, popping one button after another as, inch by inch, his pale torso was revealed to you. You could see that, despite how thin and tall he was, there was clear muscle definition to prove his strength, and your eyes lingered for a few seconds on the outline of his abs. The dark green of his shirt contrasted nicely with his natural pallor, and as you pulled your dress off over your head, you caught yourself wondering what his skin would look like with bruises left behind by your lips.

You paused, tossing your dress to the side as you knelt on the bed, and wondered where that thought had come from; you’d never felt particularly dominant in the bedroom. If anything, you’d always been more submissive. Why were you suddenly thinking about marking Loki up with hickeys?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Loki suck in a breath through clenched teeth, and your eyes snapped to his as he took in the lingerie you were wearing. Its dark emerald lace hugged your curves delicately, and you knew that your breasts looked fantastic in your bra. It was connected to a corset, which squeezed your waist in just the right way, making your figure look exquisite as you knelt in front of your date. Your panties were boy-cut, showing off your ass, and you were almost tempted to bend over, just so Loki could appreciate the view. But it seemed that your lover had other ideas as he stalked towards you.

As he came to a stop, right in front of you, your eyes couldn’t help but linger on his crotch; an impressive tent had formed by now in his trousers, and you licked your lips as you thought about what you would find on the other side of that zipper. From this angle, with you sitting on your heels, you were right at eye-level with it, but you finally managed to tear your focus away when you felt Loki’s hand tangle in your hair.

He tilted your head back, forcing you to look up at him, and you felt your eyes widen when you saw how far blown his pupils were.

“I think you know what I want from you,” he murmured, his free hand coming up to fiddle with his belt. “Are you going to give it to me?”

You unconsciously felt yourself nod as understanding washed over you, and your hands soon came up to replace his on his belt. You hurriedly unbuckled it as Loki finally shed his shirt and tossed it to the floor. As you unzipped his trousers and pulled them down, your eyes once more widened in surprise when you saw that he was wearing no underwear beneath them.

“A little bit presumptuous, don’t you think?” you chuckled, glancing up at him as you pushed his pants down his thighs.

“Never,” he shook his head. “Just optimistic.”

When his cock finally sprung free, you wrapped your hand around its shaft, taking a moment to admire it. He was long, that was for sure, and thick enough to make your thighs clench in anticipation; you knew that he would feel amazing inside of you. You were surprised that he was entirely hairless below the belt; he must shave, you realized. And for some reason, you liked that.

Without preamble, you leaned forward, tracing a vein running along the underside of his cock with your tongue. A stilted sigh left Loki’s lips, and you grinned, letting your tongue dart out to lick at his slit, tasting a drop of salty precum that had gathered there. His head was flushed a deep pink, and even though you’d never found cocks to be particularly appealing to look at, you couldn’t help but find every part of Loki beautiful. Maybe it was your feelings for him, or maybe it was just his natural appearance, but for whatever reason, you enjoyed wrapping your lips around Loki’s cock just as much as he did.

You stayed there for a short second, letting your tongue play with his head, sucking on it as you watched his face. A pain was starting to form in your neck from having to tilt your head back far enough to see him, but it was worth it; the expression he was wearing was one of bliss, and you had the thought that you’d never seen anyone quite as beautiful as him before. His eyes were closed, and his lips were parted in a small ‘o’ as you started to slowly bob your head forward. You felt his hand clench in your hair, unconsciously pulling you closer, encouraging you to take him deeper in your throat. And you did; every time his cock slid into your mouth, you took another inch of him until you felt his head tap the back of your throat. The sensation, at first, made you gag, but you fought that feeling down, taking deep breaths in through your nose as he started to thrust his hips forward.

Your hands came up to his thighs to support yourself as he started to fuck your mouth, and you clenched your thighs together as you listened to the breathless, desperate moans that were pouring out of Loki’s lips. Your name was like a prayer on his tongue, and every time he whispered it in that broken, pleasured voice, you could feel your pussy squeeze around nothing.

Just as he was starting to get louder, though, and before his thrusts could start to become too frenzied, too fast, he pulled away, letting out a groan at the sight of you. You didn’t need a mirror to know that you looked absolutely wrecked right now; your lips were no doubt swollen, and your hair had to be messy from where he’d been holding onto it. You felt your cheeks heat up when you spied a trail of saliva that stretched from his hard cock to your bottom lip, and you brought your hand up to wipe your mouth.

Loki caught your wrist before you could, though, and held you in place as he looked at you. It was as if he were committing the sight to memory, and you felt yourself flush even harder at the realization.

“You are beautiful,” he declared. His thumb came up and brushed against your lower lip, swiping away the saliva there before he took a step back. “Lay down for me, will you?”

Your heartrate jumped, and you knew, instinctively, that this was it. Nodding, you turned and crawled up the length of your bed, feeling Loki’s eyes on your ass before you laid down on your back with your head propped up against the pillows. After stepping out of his pants, he soon followed you, a predatory look in his eyes as he made his way up your body.

With a rough shove, he forced your legs apart, pressing kisses to your thighs as he climbed up your body. His lips trailed over your clothed mound to your belly, but he paused at your breasts, cupping them over your bra and admiring them as he rolled and squeezed them in his hands.

“Your body was made for my touch, love,” he sighed, his fingers making their way underneath you to the back of your corset. “And as much as I adore this, I would like to see it bare beneath me.”

With that, he started undoing the garment’s clasps, and you leaned up to help him. As soon as he was able too, he pulled the fabric away and threw it behind him, where it laid right beside his discarded shirt. His hands immediately fell onto your breasts, and he darted down to lick over one of your nipples. You arched up, letting out a surprised gasp at the contact, and Loki smirked before wrapping his lips around it and starting to suck. Your back arched up as if you’d been electrified, and you felt his smirk as he ran his tongue along your sensitive bud.

“L-loki,” you stammered. “Please, I-I need you…”

There was now a constant throbbing in your cunt, desperate to be filled, and you couldn’t handle much more of his teasing. You’d never gotten this worked up from giving a blowjob before, but you were so wet that you could feel it starting to seep through your panties. And something in your tone must have told Loki how much you needed it, how ready you were for him, because he pulled away and looked up at you, your eyes locking as he reached down to your panties.

“You need me, do you?” he asked, his voice nearly a purr as he started sliding your drenched panties down your legs. “What do you need me to do so badly…?”

He trailed off as his eyes fell down to your pussy, and he blinked in surprise at what he saw. You squirmed, feeling self-conscious as he ran a finger down your slit, gathering your wetness, and a breath hissed in past his lips.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, and you nearly moaned as he slipped his finger into his mouth, tasting you. His eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a groan that was borderline pornographic. “And so sweet-“

“Loki, please,” you begged, “please, I need you inside of me-“

“Shh, don’t worry, love,” he hushed, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. “I’ll give you what you need.”

He let his body cover yours once again, his chest pressed against yours as he pulled you into a kiss. He supported his weight on his elbow, cradling your head in the crook of his arm as he reached his other hand down between you. You broke the kiss when you felt him guide the head of his cock against your entrance, but his lips were still hovering just a hair’s width from yours as he started to push inside.

Your lips parted at the initial stretch, forming into a silent moan as he slowly pushed inside of you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as your pussy started to adjust to him, taking every last inch of his cock until you felt his head bump against your cervix. You let out a soft moan at the sensation of it, letting your head fall back against your pillows as you tried to grow used to the feeling of him inside of you.

Loki, meanwhile, had his eyes closed as he tried to get used to the feeling of you wrapped around him, of your tight pussy pulsing and clenching around him as he bottomed out inside of you. He’d never felt anything like this before; sure, when it came to sex, he had plenty of experience. But he’d never felt a connection like this; when his eyes opened to find yours staring at his face, waiting for him to move, he felt as if an electric spark ran down the length of his spine.

With a soft, barely perceptible grunt, he started to move, pulling his hips back before rolling them forward again. Your eyes rolled back as he found his rhythm, white-hot pleasure starting to break through your initial pain. Your legs tightened, pulling him closer against you, and once the pain faded completely, once you’d relaxed around the feeling of his length stretching you open, you opened your eyes.

Green irises were waiting there for you when you did, and a moan escaped you as your gazes locked. His eyebrows were drawn together, and broken, quiet moans fell from his parted lips as his thrusts became faster. Your hands were now on his biceps, squeezing them to ground yourself.

“That’s right,” he moaned, snapping his hips harder. “Take it; take all of me-“

And just then, the head of his cock brushed against something inside of you that made your toes curl. You cried out, clinging to him, your nails scratching paths down his back as he once again rocked his hips, hitting your g-spot again.

“There?” he asked breathlessly, and you nodded hurriedly, looking up at him.

“Y-yes, Loki, right ther- Oh, fuck-!”

It wasn’t long before he was pounding into you, both of you getting closer and closer to climax. Your body felt as if it were tight as a bowstring as you moved against your lover, your muscles tense as you rolled your hips against his, steadily craving more and more of him. As your pleasure built, as he moved inside of you, you started to feel what you’d seen in him earlier – hunger. Deeper, faster, harder – your brain was a continuous mantra of thoughts like these, until you were consumed, possessed, by your need to cum, your need for him.

Loki sucked in a gasp of surprise when he felt you push up against him; his eyes flew open in time to watch you shift your weight, using one of the legs you had wrapped around his waist to flip the two of you over, and before he could fully realize it was happening, he found himself beneath your body, still inside of you as you rolled your hips against him.

“Fuck,” you moaned, letting your head fall back. “Fuck, just like that-“

He watched, stunned, as you started bouncing on his cock, your hands on his chest pressing him down and pinning him against the mattress. Your hips were moving frantically, writhing and rolling against his as you chased your release. Your eyes were closed, so you couldn’t see the look of awe, of pure adoration, on his face, and for that he was grateful. Because, yes, he had plenty of experience with lovers of all cultures, backgrounds, and genders. He’d delved into every extreme of humanity – murder, power, lust – every single one, except for submission.

And, yet, here he was, laying beneath you as you used him and his body for your pleasure. And despite the fact that he’d never submitted to any of his former lovers before, despite the careful control he felt the need to keep over himself, his life, and the lives of so many poor, unfortunate victims, he liked it.

His eyes remained on you as he started thrusting up, if for no other reason than to aid you as you chased your orgasm. He was rewarded when you immediately tilted your head back and let out a moan, hips faltering in their rhythm as he pounded up into you. One of his hands cautiously snaked between your bodies, resting his palm on your upper thigh and letting his thumb brush past your folds.

You gasped, eyes snapping open as he started circling your clit, and unthinkingly you reached out, your hand falling to his neck and wrapping around it as you felt the knot inside of you tighten.

“Oh, my God, Loki-!”

You looked down, taking in your hand as it wrapped around his throat, staring at the wrecked, owned glint in his eyes. And part of you, somehow, realized how important this was for him, how rarely he let himself trust someone else to hold dominance over him like this. And the fact that you were able to do this to him, the fact that you had this man under your control, completely at your mercy, was what finally made you cum.

You felt it first in the very tips of your fingers and toes – the aching, throbbing feeling of release. It spread through you slower than usual, gripping you tight in pleasured bliss before, abruptly, something snapped in your core. With a wail, you tightened your hand around his throat and came, clenching around his cock as your pleasure washed over you in one final wave. Your hips fell to a halt just as Loki tilted his head back and groaned your name, his seed spilling inside of you as he found his own release. You flexed your fingers, slowly releasing their grip on him as you both settled into your afterglow. Your pussy fluttered around his softening cock, and the vice-like hold he had on your hips started to relax.

Your elbows wobbled just a second before your strength gave out, and you found yourself laying pressed flush against Loki, his chest against yours, rising and falling to the rhythm of his deep breaths. His hands shifted, gliding down to your thighs, and gently you felt him push against you. With a grunt, he guided you off of his cock, and you both winced as it slipped out of your pussy.

His arms wrapped around you, then, lazily brushing up and down your back, and you felt a faint twinge of embarrassment as you felt cum start to leak out of you, spilling down your thighs and onto the sheets. You expected to see disgust on Loki’s face when he felt some of it drip onto his leg, but he only gave you a quick peck to the lips before maneuvering you to lay down beside of him.

You closed your eyes and felt his weight leave the bed as he stood up, and you listened to the padding of his feet as he made his way to your bathroom, coming out a few seconds later with a damp washcloth. You jolted when you felt its cold dampness against your leg, but you relaxed as you watched Loki clean you off, taking care as he guided the rag over your sensitive pussy. Once you were cleaned up, he dabbed at the sheets, managing to clean them a bit as well before tossing the cloth into your clothes hamper and climbing back into bed with you.

Once again, he gathered you into his arms, and you felt a smile tug at your lips as you rested your head over his heartbeat. It matched your own as you laid there, soaking in each other’s essence and replaying what had just happened in your minds. You felt a bit sheepish as you thought of how surprised Loki had looked when you flipped him over, and you glanced upwards to find him already staring at you, deep in thought.

“Sorry I, um…” You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “Sorry I went all alpha-male on you there. I don’t know what came over me…”

Loki chuckled, pushing some hair out of your eyes.

“Did you hear me complaining?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. You smile, relieved, and let your head fall back down to his chest.

“Mm. Well. I promise I’m not…usually like that,” you explained. “Typically, I’m more of a sub.”

“And, typically, I’m the dominant one,” Loki mused. “But for whatever reason, with you…”

He trailed off, but you understood what he meant; you’d said it before.

“This is special,” you stated once again. You reached down, grabbing one of his hands and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’re special, Loki.”

Loki felt his heart squeeze, and he let out a soft sigh as he felt his chest swell with… Love. With love.

“I love you,” he breathed, under his breath. He actually, truly, loved you; that had to be what this was, right? Because he’d felt a variety of things similar to love before – lust for his former lovers, affection for Thor. But this was so much deeper, so much brighter – it was like a fire burning within him. Not one that consumed, or burned, or destroyed. It was warm, and glowing.

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until he felt you stiffen in his arms, and when he looked down, he saw pure surprise etched across your features. His heart sank; he hadn’t meant to confess his feelings to you. Especially not after having sex for the first time on your third date.

But relief washed over him when he saw a smile form over your lips, and you leaned up to kiss him softly, sweetly. You pulled back and laughed, a sound that was so honest and pure that it made his own mouth turn up into a grin.

“I love you, too, Loki,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his. “God, it’s not the smart thing to do, and I know everyone will say it’s too soon for me to know it, but… Fuck, I love you.”

In that moment, as he stared up at you with a smile to match your own, he knew that now that he had your love, he’d never be able to live without it. He was addicted to it, to the sound of those three words on your lips, to the way you looked at him, the way you touched him – he was addicted to your love in the same way he was addicted to killing.

And as the two of you kissed, and, later, when you slid onto his cock again for the second time that night, he found that he couldn’t tell which love would be the more all-encompassing. He honestly didn’t know which would be the one to take him down, his love for murder or his love for you. But he was also just as certain that he absolutely didn’t care.

#loki #loki odinson #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #loki imagine #mcu #fanfic #serial killer!loki #serial killer au

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