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saturnsummer · 3 years

Text

sweet love

They say drunk words are your sober thoughts. Joon Hwi clearly had too many thoughts.

prompted by an anon from this question here! thanks anon!!

notes: hello! back with another fic, this time when joonhwi gets too drunk and spills more than he expects. stay till the end though, i added a little bonus as usual. editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me! thank you all for your love and support as always! i’ll see you for more next time!

original prompt: I love your fic 🥰 this is so far from canon but a drunk joonhwi being clingy towards sol a is one of my dream scenarios 😚 or the squad catching solhwi being clingy with each other because they were hiding their relationship

words: 3414 words

Joon Hwi was beyond excited everyday when he woke up for school. No, he wasn't excited to get the top grade, neither was he excited to get his essays and reports done. Though he loves the law, he’s sane enough to not love it that much.

Of course, he’s just excited about meeting his girlfriend, Kang Sol.

He never knew how they got together. It was a natural thing, after all. After the whole fiasco with Assemblyman Ko, their relationship suddenly felt a lot closer. They were close to begin with, with their daily studying and lunches and dinners. But something was different after the middle of their second year.

It started out as dinners every night, with or without the study group. Then Sol would be in study group sessions wearing his sweater or hoodies. When Yeseul or Yebeom teased, Sol would always argue to say that it was cold in their copy room and Joon Hwi was just being nice. Joon Hwi would just pretend that ‘sharing sweaters were normal’.

Then one day, as Joon Hwi sent Sol back home to take care of Byeol, they sat side by side in silence. Sol was desperately in need of catching up on her sleep, so the forty minute bus ride served as a quick nap for her. She turned her head to lean on Joon Hwi’s shoulder, resting her head there for her nap. To make things more comfortable, he placed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

When they were nearing their stop, Joon Hwi instinctively shook a sleepy Sol up and held her hand as he dragged her out so she wouldn’t miss the stop. Sol doesn’t let go, and neither does Joon Hwi. Only when they reach the start of the alley do they let go of their hands. (Sol insists it’s because she doesn’t want Byeol to know. Joon Hwi thinks it’s because she’s shy.)

When Joon Hwi is at her front door with Sol, they shyly look at each other, the feelings mutual and conveyed with just their eyes. Of course, they are soulmates. They don't need the words to deliver their entire hearts or feelings.

It was always made known from the start to Joon Hwi that Sol was special to him. He has never met someone so persistent, so passionate and so damm beautiful. He had a couple of flings, being the popular smart boy in school, but none of the girls made his heart beat the same way Sol did. None of them made his world stop.

It has been a year since. And things weren’t easy when you tried to hide it. Sol, a student on a scholarship, had better luck being chosen to attend this school than the number of times the couple almost got caught.

In school, they acted normally as classmates and friends. Their study group sensed something different, but they would just deny and pretend. They put on a pretty good act, if they were to say so themselves, having Bokgi convinced that they needed to find Sol a blind date. (Joon Hwi would have spat his water at him like how Professor Yang did at Prosecutor Jin, but he held it in. Five months of hiding couldn’t be wasted now.)

They wanted to tell their friends, they really did. But they wanted to do it after their bar exams. After the weight of the bar has been lifted off will they share their good news. But while hiding a relationship is hard, making time for one was harder. (Arguably, Joon Hwi finds this harder than any exam he took.)

They absolutely found every minute they could to be together. Every hidden staircase was a spot they tried to spend a few minutes to themselves, but even that was difficult. Joon Hwi would remember how Sol would lead him to a hidden staircase far from their hideout, so as to not get walked in by either the professors or their friends. Even in the midst of Joon Hwi pressing Sol against the wall, as they devoured each other’s lips after a whole day of being unable to kiss, they would be interrupted by the sudden doors of the staircase upstairs opening, causing them to fly apart and run out.

The gossip the school carried was insane, and the last thing they wanted was gossip to reach their friends.

They could spend longer moments in the study room in the middle of the nights where they would be alone, as they worked on their cases and work. Occasionally, they shared bunggeoppangs and hotteoks, where they had long kisses tasting of sweet red bean and honey. But too many times Sol found herself shifting from her seat next to Joon Hwi to climbing on top of his lap in a make-out session, as Joon Hwi reached up to remove the highlighter holding her hair. Just as they wanted more, a sudden noise would bring them to attention and frantically, Sol would fall back onto her chair, both of their faces flushed red.

It was just four more months till the graduation ceremony came.

Till the world knows Sol was Joon Hwi’s.

-----

The bar exam went smoothly, as everyone received their results of passing. As a celebration, the boys decided to drink and have a meal apart from their usual delivery. No, it was time for the real deal of barbecues, meat and stews. They decided to even give a call to Seungjae, who graciously accepted their offer despite being so busy with his new son in his life. The study group has met his kid a couple of times, and even babysat a few hours together.

The boys met at a relatively near barbecue place in the heart of Dongdaemun, a location that the boys could easily return back to the dorms and not too far away. They were at an all-you-could-eat place, suitable for their budget so that they didn’t burn a hole in their pockets. Seungjae offered to treat his dongsaengs. After all, passing the bar was no easy feat. But they declined. His presence with them was enough of a gift from him to them.

But what was a dinner without the star, soju?

Joon Hwi prided himself on holding his liquor well. He could easily have a bottle without feeling the buzz. He could have a second without difficulty as well. Surely, he won’t be drunk, right?

Oh, but how wrong he was.

The bottles of soju and beers kept coming, never ending, as BokGi and Yebeom pushed shot after shot to him and themselves. They were surely prepared to get hammered tomorrow and show up to their 10am lecture spinning. Seungjae, having driven, only watched and smiled as he looked at his dongsaengs drink, sipping on his cola.

“Hyung, you sure you don’t have anything on with Sol-A noona? You know, we catch you with her all the time.” Bokgi asks, his face slightly flushed and words a little slurred. Yebeom nods his head, nodding his head in agreement. Joon Hwi only lets himself smile, not saying anything as he shoots back an additional shot of soju.

“Wah, hyung! So you admit it?” Yebeom says, setting down his chopsticks. Jiho stops chewing on his ssam, and looks next to him at Joon Hwi, who just shrugs, a mysterious smile on his face. Seungjae only places more meat on Joon Hwi’s plate.

With a short glance, Yebeom, Jiho and Bokgi’s eyes met. It was long enough for them to get what they were trying to say, but yet short enough for Joon Hwi to not notice the silence.

They weren’t blind to Joon Hwi’s actions. They noticed how Joon Hwi would look at Sol when she’s practicing for a mock trial, and his gentle voice when he would point out things she missed. Jiho, for one, noticed how Joon Hwi would return to the dorm later or look at his phone, smiling like an idiot. When asked, Joon Hwi would either use the excuse that he went out to the city or he was looking at cat videos, which bore Jiho.

But tonight, they were not leaving this place until he spilled his secret.

“Excuse me! Can we get three more portions of samgyeopsal, one more moksal, one dwangjang jjigae, and three more bottles of soju please?” Bokgi politely shouted to the store helper, who readily nodded.

“One more rice, please!” Yebeom added.

And so, with every portion of food, they shot back shot after shot as they feasted on their fresh juicy grilled pork and stew. They were glad that Joon Hwi was slowly slurring his words, because they themselves were barely hanging on.

“Hyung, you can be honest, you know. We won’t say anything about your private life with noona.” Yebeom says, fighting off the buzz and taking a big gulp of water. Joon Hwi, now face flushed bright red, only let out another smile as he laid back on his chair.

“Ah, Sol...” He murmured out loud.

“You know, she’s really touchy when she’s drunk? She likes to cling on to people when she’s drunk. When she’s angry, she pushes people away instead.” The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. No, this wasn’t Joon Hwi. This was drunk Joon Hwi. The other three immediately perked up hearing this.

“A-Ah, really? How do you know that?” Yebeom prompted, determined to draw out more information.

“Remember the time we were late to Dean Oh’s lecture? We drank that night with Yeseul and Bokgi. She couldn’t stop clinging onto my hoodie after both of them went back. And the other time when she pushed me away after her first year results were out.” Joon Hwi says, the stupid smile still on his face.

“How cute.” He quietly says, eyes closed.

There wasn't a need to know further that their hyung, Han Joon Hwi, had feelings for Kang Sol, the feisty noona.

“Hyung, then why not date her?” Bokgi says, the news keeping him at the end of his seat. Jiho merely sits, ears wide open and ready for any information.

“Date?” Joon Hwi says and lets out a light unmistakable giggle. Oh, he really was drunk now.

“We already are.”

The trio exchange knowing eyes, knowing how their objectives for the night have been accomplished. Seungjae, from the end of the table, merely shakes his head with a smile.

“Hyung, did you know?” Jiho asks. Seungjae nodded.

“They told me. After all, I am no longer a student.” This earned groans from the trio, calling it unfair.

“I miss Sol...” Joon Hwi murmurs, as his drunken state reaches for another shot of soju. Instinctively, Jiho reaches it first and shoves a glass of water in his hand instead. If anything, he was sleeping with this man in the same room. And he was not having his drunken state continue further. After all, they completed their mission for the night.

All that mattered was remembering it the next day.

-----

Sol was in the midst of folding her clothes before her phone rang, distracting her from her music that she had on with her ear pieces. Irritated, she picked up her phone, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Sol-A? It’s oppa.”

“Seungjae-oppa? Why are you calling so late? Is anything the matter?” She asks, alerted by the sudden call. It was almost midnight, and it was rare for Seungjae to call.

“Ah, no. Nothing is wrong. I’m just at the lobby of the school at the Lady Justice statue with a very drunk Joon Hwi and the rest of the boys. I can’t bring them up myself, especially since I can’t enter the dorms anymore.” Seungjae explains. In the back, Sol can hear a noisy Bokgi and Jiho telling him to shut up.

“Give me five minutes.” She says and hangs up. The urgency in Sol’s voice drew the attention of Sol B, who was ready to get to bed. Sol B only looks at Sol for a moment and Sol just gives a sympathetic smile.

“Could... Could you come with me?” Sol asks nervously. Sol B looks at Sol for a moment before she throws a hoodie on and throws another hoodie to Sol. The last thing they needed was them to be recognised. Seungjae was where he said he would be, with indeed, four grown men, sprawled on the couches. Bokgi, Yebeom and Jiho were at least conscious enough to greet both Sols, but Joon Hwi just had his eyes shut, murmuring incorrigible things.

“Sorry you had to deal with them, oppa. They really owe you a big apology.” Sol apologises for the sake of her boyfriend, and his friends. Seungjae only shakes his head.

“They should enjoy this before they step into the workforce and can’t experience it anymore.” He gives a smile. “Joon Hwi got a little carried away. He might have spilled your relationship.” Sol B was not standing far as she forced Bokgi and the rest upright, but she could clearly hear it.

“I’ll settle it. You should go home now, don’t keep Juyoung-unnie waiting. I’ll get them to their rooms.” She said before making her quick goodbye to Seungjae.

Together, both Sols pushed Bokgi and Yebeom up to their room, half guiding and half carrying the heavy boys to their door. When they were back downstairs, Sol B instinctively grabbed Jiho by his arm and pulled him up.

“Sol B, about what-” Sol was cut off by her roommate.

“I know. Don’t tell anyone yet. But, you know you suck at hiding and lying, don't you?” She says, her head turned back, before turning back to help Jiho back to his room. Sol does all she can to suppress her smile. Even though her roommate is harsh, she could feel the love. Turning around, she faces her drunk boyfriend.

“Joon. Joon Hwi.” Sol shakes gently. Joon Hwi’s lips curl up slightly, as his arms reach up to wrap them around the familiar body he missed. Sol was clingy when she was drunk, but it was the pot calling the kettle black for Joon Hwi. If possible, he was even clingier.

“You need to go up to your room.” She says as she fights away his loose grip and half supports his drunk body to his room.

“I missed you, Sol...” He murmurs, a face turning into a pout. “You know I kept telling them how good a girlfriend you are? How you always got me coffees and made extra ramyeons.”

“And you also told them we are dating?”

“Of course! I want the whole world to know I love you!” Joon Hwi says a little loudly, and she clamps his mouth shut. Oh, he was definitely more than drunk. Joon Hwi’s arms clung onto her waist as she reached his door.

“Go. You can face the mess you made in the morning.” She says. Joon Hwi clings onto her, giving her a sad pout.

“No more goodnight kisses?” He asked, a voice like a child. His eyes were big and round, his mouth downturned slightly like a pout.

Sol couldn’t deny him one, especially when he looked so adorable. Looking around, she made sure the coast was clear before she reached up to let her lips meet his soft ones. He tasted like lingering alcohol and she could taste it, but she couldn’t help but want more of his intoxicating lips on hers. But not today.

Pulling away, he let out a slight whine. But Sol gave him a quick peck.

“You’ll get more, when you get up.” And Sol pushes him into the room, leaving back to her own dorm, knowing that she’ll be faced with a big headache the next morning.

-----

When Joon Hwi is up the next morning, he’s greeted with a Jiho who rubs his eyes and holds his head in his hand. Joon Hwi isn’t sure if he’s spinning or the room is. Or if it is spinning in the first place. Jiho notices he’s up and grunts a good morning, before getting up to get ready.

The memories of last night come back to Joon Hwi in waves as the pieces start slowly fixing themselves together throughout the morning. By the time he’s at his first lecture, his memories have more or less come back.

He’s certain that Sol would be mad. He makes a mental note to send Seungjae an apology and thank you message. Then, he starts making plans to bribe the trio. He knows about Yebeom’s love for candy, so he starts with that. He just needs to think of what brand of sneakers to get for Bokgi. Heck, would bribes even work against them?

But throughout the morning, the boys do nothing to mention anything about last night. They chat about their hangover, how Seungjae is doing well with his new job and the amount of food they ate. No one mentions anything about Joon Hwi, or his words.

Joon Hwi counts himself safe. They must have forgotten, he thinks. He figures it was the best they did. It definitely would save him an earful from Sol and a large headache. During lunch, as they finished their simple meal at the cafeteria of soup, rice and bulgogi, Bokgi is about to clear his tray before he turns to Joon Hwi.

“Oh, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“We remember everything. From the start, to the end.” He says, a teasing grin on his face as he quickly scurries away, not wanting to die before he graduates. Joon Hwi rolls his eyes back and groans.

Well, shit.

-----

bonus:

“Sol B, did you know our roommates are dating?” Jiho asks, his voice slightly slurred as Sol B drags him up the stairs. She gives a nod. Sol B was no idiot to fall for her roommate’s excuses, when her face gave it all away. It was fascinating how the others haven’t noticed.

“It would be an insult to our careers if we didn't notice the way they looked at their phones.” She sarcastically says. Jiho manages to scoff. Sol B is about to tap Jiho’s key card of their door, but his hand stops hers, as she feels his body right behind his.

“Well, they haven’t found out about us yet.” Jiho says softly to her, his face nuzzled into her neck, lips brushing her neck as he slowly moves his lips up to her jaw. Sol brings a gentle hand to his cheek, before turning around to face Jiho.

“We’re better actors.” She whispers so soft. Jiho can't tell if it’s the alcohol or him, but all he knows is that Sol B looks so damm perfect with her doe-like eyes, soft pink lips and the way she teases him drives him insane. He wants her, and he wants her now.

He crashes his lips on hers, wanting to so desperately taste her. It’s been a long day, and he’s never felt so in need. Sol B tastes the lingering alcohol on his lips, but she couldn’t care. She needs him the same way he wants her. Her hands reach up to grab his hair as Jiho’s hands slip under her hoodie, feeling the smooth skin of her waist against his fingers. They know that they are in the middle of the hallway, but, god, it felt so good.

“God, I missed this.” Jiho mumbled, almost growling, against her lips, earning a slight smirk from the younger girl that he could feel. He sucks on her lower lip, earning a soft gasp from the girl as she only kisses him harder. Biting lovingly on her swollen lips, he shifts his attention to her jaw, leaving butterfly kisses and earning a sigh of pleasure from her.

But it was short lived, as she pulled away. They knew they had to stop, before their secret was revealed, too. Jiho wishes he could bring her into the dorm and continue this session with her. Sol B looks at him lovingly, biting her lip in an attempt to tease.

“We’ll continue this tomorrow.” Sol B says, giving him another loving kiss as she leaves for her room and Jiho returns to his, buzzed from the alcohol and the adrenaline rush from his make out session. He inwardly groans, hating how his girlfriend teases him, but also smirks, knowing how to get back at her the next day.

Let’s hope he remembers this.

205 notes · View notes

sweet-dreamins · 4 years

Text

careless (f+a)

○ pairing: pro hero! katsuki bakugou x gn! reader, pro hero! reader, established relationship

○ word count: 3.5k

○ summary: after a successful battle you’re confused when katsuki isn’t happy for you, in fact he’s furious. shouldn’t he be proud of you?

○ content: a bit angsty, a bit fluffy, hurt/comfort, mention of cuts and blood

○ a/n: i rewrote this like 4 times lol but here it is!! (i may come back nd edit bc passive voice) feedback is appreciated, enjoy!

You and Bakugou were partners, but you weren’t partners. Sure, you were lovers in the nighttime, but on the field? Yeah, no thanks. The two of you had only partnered up a few times, and that was more than enough for you. Before even entering the field, you were hesitant that he’d let himself get distracted by you and you were right, just not for the reasons you think.

The dynamic shifted juuuust a little too much for your liking. One of the most...memorable times was when you were up against one of the more powerful villains. Anytime the villain would make a move towards you before you could even retaliate, Bakugou would slip in front of you- even going as far as to shove you back. To others watching, it seemed as if he was falling back into his attention-seeking habits or that it was so romantic that he put your safety over his, but you knew better (or at least you thought you did).

After that fight, you two had quite the shouting match in the ER afterward. Until he dragged the two of you home, insisting he was more than capable of taking care of the both of you. That, and his publicist was this close to having another conniption after hearing about your rather loud discussion….that the whole hospital heard.

You knew Katsuki only acted that way out of love and concern for you. You know that he sees you as strong. So, why did it still feel so demeaning? Why did it feel like he didn’t, maybe still doesn’t, see you as strong enough?

Even though after your discussion, you had decided to not do hero work together, the little voice in the back of your head wasn’t erased. Creeping in concluding that you were nothing but a pity fuck. The skewed, brutal honesty of the public never failed to make the little voice louder.

You did your best to not let it get to you, you really did. You ignored the tabloids and told your friends you didn’t want them telling you about the articles they had read. But this past week was just atrocious. Katsuki and you had gone on a coffee date, knowing that he was going to be swamped this week, trying to make up for crammed schedules. The paparazzi managed to find you-instantly getting into your personal space, effectively cutting your date short.

By the time you had got back to your apartment, the pictures were already released and practically everywhere. Katsuki tried distracting you by making you dinner and it was wonderful. But you stayed up that night reading every single headline, article, and comment about the two of you. Drowning yourself in the criticism as the voice began to get louder and louder.

Of course, you would never say it out loud, but since then you had been itching for a fight with a real villain. Somebody who can do some proper damage, somebody strong. Any kind of opportunity where you could prove your strength, show everyone that they’re wrong about you. That you’re good enough for Katsuki, that you’re strong enough to be a hero- that you are enough. And finally, finally, finally, the chance came.

You did wonderfully. The fight had dragged on for a while, long enough for reporters to arrive and commentate on the rest of it. Everyone could see how well that you handled everything, all the footage establishing your reputation.

Once the adrenaline from the fight had subsided, the ache in your body started seeping into your bones. Cuts that had been littered across your skin felt as though they had started glowing red, the cool night air kissing them. You still managed to put on a brave face for the crowd afterward, relief and joy filling your heart as the cheers far outweighed the jeers.

You let their praises wash over you, relishing the fact the little voice in your head had been silenced. Their words seeping into through your wounds, momentarily numbing the burning pain. Your heart was no longer squeezed by apprehension, finally at ease knowing that they believed in you, in your worth. As you gave your last interview and waved to the crowd, you made your way over to the ambulance.

His foot was practically tapping the ground at the speed of light, you were surprised he hadn’t made an indent in the concrete already. Katsuki stood there, arms crossed with a scowl on his face, furrowed brow, and glaring eyes. You didn’t know whether it was the exhaustion or if the night was that cold, but you could’ve sworn there was steam coming off of him.

He had arrived pretty late to the scene, coming from the other side of the city, but the footage of you was everywhere. Katsuki had seen the majority of the fight and despite not saying anything, it was obvious that he did not like what he saw. The lights from the ambulance bathed the two of you in red light. Strong arms envelop you in a firm but gentle hug. You close your eyes and breathe him in. You stand there in silence for a little while, simply basking in each other’s presence.

He leans down to mumble in a gruff voice, lips brushing against your ear,

“I already talked to the EMTs, we’re going home now.”

Although Katsuki had EMT training from when he was younger, only on rare occasions did he fully take patching you up into his own hands. Yes, he was always breathing down the neck of the poor medic who had the misfortune of having you as a patient, but typically he had enough self-control to let them do their job.

You were grateful to have privacy, but his reaction was off-putting to say the very least. He should be proud of you, right? That you handled everything so well, he should be congratulating you, right? So...why does he look like he’s two seconds away from grinding his teeth to dust?

The car ride to your apartment is as silent as the grave, thick tension weighing down the surrounding air, making your tongue heavy in your mouth. Katsuki’s knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel, not once sparing you a glance. Nearly all the lingering adrenaline from the fight and buzz from the crowd has faded, irritation and pain taking place.

Why the hell is he mad at me right now? He has no right or reason to be mad at me. Everything turned out fine!

As the city lights flutter past the window, you sit in the passenger stewing in confusion and anger. Wracking your brain trying to come up with a logical reason as to why he’s mad at you. Once you arrive at your apartment, you wait to hear the telltale slam of the front door, preparing to cringe- but it never comes.

Instead, Katsuki gently shuts the door behind him.

Oh. So he’s in that kind of mood.

Over time, you came to learn that there were levels to Katsuki’s anger. Everyone else in his life had been on the receiving end of his knee jerk reaction at some point. Yelling and slamming down everything he could get his hands on. But tonight, the type of anger in front of you. Only a few people had been privy to. The kind he has the force of an inferno behind it but is trying to channel it into a few million candles. The kind he wants to be careful with his words, spending every passing second trying to remove the barbs from his tongue, so as not to get it wrong.

Before you could get pulled back into your head, a large warm hand pressing at the small of your back kept you tethered to reality. Katsuki gently guided you to the bathroom, wordlessly turning on the shower, a silent signal for you to get undressed. The tension from the car had followed you into the apartment, a dark cloud, about to storm at any moment.

You slip into the shower, drinking in the way the water washes away the dirt and grime of the day. The peace is short-lived, the warm water trickling into your open wounds, your entire body stinging slightly. Peeking past the curtain, you see Katsuki rummaging through the closet for supplies. After he sets everything on the counter, he steps out to grab clothes.

Snatching the soap bar, you scrub your body down as quickly as possible, whimpers of pain involuntarily falling from your mouth. You had waited until Katsuki left, not wanting him to hear you crying out. Frantically blinking away your blurry vision, you finish washing up and wrap yourself in a fluffy towel, taking deep breaths. How are you going to keep it together?

In your shared bedroom, Katsuki was grabbing you a change of clothes while grumbling to himself. After throwing on a tank top and sweatpants, he paces back and forth with a scowl, running a hand through his hair. Trying to untangle the scribbles piling up in his brain, he takes a deep breath and looks into the mirror. He knows he needs to tread carefully, to get his words across in the best way possible. What you need right now isn’t yelling or anger, it’s honesty and support. He doesn’t want his anger to get in the way of what truly matters, repeating it over and over in his head,

I love you, and I care about you. I love you, and I care about you.

He makes his way back to the bathroom, clothes in hand, to see you standing there wrapped up tight in a fluffy towel. The precious sight in front of him squeezes his heart, making it a little hard to breathe. Here, in the safety of your apartment, you let yourself be a little more vulnerable and he loves it, wants more of it. But once you notice him walk in, you stand up a little straighter, wiping away the teary expression on your face. He grits his teeth at this but says nothing, reminding himself to keep it together.

You finish drying off and put on the clothes he brought you, one of his shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. Even though he’s standing right in front of you, being enveloped by his scent is still comforting. He leans against the counter, waiting for you to jump onto the space next to him, reminding himself one more time,

I love you, and I care about you.

He finally opens his mouth to say,

“That was really stupid of you.”

No response.

“You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, you realize that, right?”

Silence.

“You could’ve bled out and died.”

You spit back, “But I didn’t right? I’m still here, aren’t I? So it doesn’t matter.”

Katsuki grits his teeth, huffing through his nose, growling out,

“It doesn’t matter?”

“No, no it doesn’t because I’m fine. Everything else turned out fine, so who cares?”

You were certain you were right, no doubt about it! He was overreacting about this and it was honestly the last thing you needed tonight, so you had less patience than usual.

He snaps his jaw shut, opting for the silent treatment again with a scowl on his face. Katsuki douses a cotton pad in alcohol and swipes it across one of your cuts.

You yelp in pain and surprise, sucking breath in through your teeth, snatching his wrist. You shoot him a glare, at first he’s ready to glare right back, but once he meets your gaze he softens. That’s what you do to him. You’ve given him a safe space to be soft, to be loving- to be vulnerable. This is why this cuts him up inside so much more, he knows that you’re in pain, that you’ve been in pain for the past week. But every time he would ask, you brushed it off, adamant on shouldering it by yourself. He was even angrier at himself for not pushing harder, if he had you might not have pushed yourself tonight.

You were his safe space and your reluctance to be vulnerable with him, had him doubting himself. Was he not enough for you? Did you not think he could be your safe space? He had beat himself up over this, which added another layer of frustration that had to take the backseat tonight.

He continues working diligently in silence, repeating the process with the same care for every single cut. Rubbing alcohol, bacitracin, a bandaid, and then smoothing over it with his rough fingertips. Repeatedly, gently tracing plain patterns over the material, soothing the both of you. If the circumstances were different, he would’ve littered butterfly kisses over every single one. The amount of self-control that he was showing was unfathomable.

Katsuki was inches away from exploding, pulling his brain in endless directions between figuring out how to get through to you, wanting to just tactlessly spill his guts, and longing to smother you in frantic love. You were nearing eruption as well, desperately wanting him to say something, anything at all, but you also didn’t want to hear a single word of his lecturing. You also wanted nothing more but to hug him, to cling to him because fuck, tonight was terrifying but you couldn’t let him know that-you had to stick to your guns.

Both of you were stubborn as all get out, a trait that you both loved and hated in one another. Neither of you wants to be the first to give in, and yet desperately pray the other will. Here together, in your bathroom, and yet worlds apart, lost in your thoughts. You were unceremoniously dragged back to the moment in front of you by fear.

Whether Katsuki did it on purpose, he had left the worst cut for last. It was the biggest one, crimson and angry, your anxiety building as he prepared to clean it. You had handled the stinging of the rest of the cuts fairly well, this one was going to be your breaking point.

His warm, rough hands wrap around your thigh, lightly squeezing it to steady you.

“Wait! Please.”

Your hand shot out to wrap around his wrist, your brain still catching up to your outburst. He immediately stopped in his tracks, looking up at you and feeling his heart shatter when he saw your eyes. Pleading, looking for mercy in him, and full of fear. As soft as he could muster,

“Hey, hey it’s not going to be that bad, promise.” He carefully watches as you nervously chew on your bottom lip. He raises his large hand to gently cup your face, you instinctively lean into the warmth of his palm. A new, unfamiliar voice pipes up in the back of your head as you get lost in his carmine eyes.

Let go.You’re safe here.

You let go of his wrist to place your hand on top of his bigger one, absentmindedly stroking.

“Just take a deep breath, okay? It’ll be over before you know it.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, you nod and try to relax as he moves his hand back to your thigh. He gingerly wipes the cut, the alcohol instantly seeping in and burning. You cry out in pain, begging him to stop, but he doesn’t listen. He tries to be quick but still efficient, wanting to lessen your pain. He places a large bandaid on it, smoothing it down, and finally, finally, gives in and presses the lightest butterfly kiss on top.

Fuck.

Your bottom lip is poking out, quivering as you do your best to swallow the sob clawing its way up your throat. Angrily rubbing away the tears that escape, you let out a trembling sigh, still trying to get a hold of yourself. Balling your hands into fists on your thighs, you sniffle and bite your lip so it’ll stop its ridiculous shaking. You instinctively berate yourself for how you’re reacting.

You should be stronger than this. What is wrong with you?

The new, sweeter, softer voice comes back to say,

But it’s okay. Because it’s him.

Because it’s him. Because he’s the one who is fixing you, who is choosing to fix you. To be here with you, to choose you, and to love you. And maybe it is okay that you’re ‘weak’ in front of him. It’s safe here. Maybe you were wrong an-

“Do you understand why I’m mad at you?” His voice rumbles out, interrupting your thoughts.

“I-I don’t- honestly, no not really, I did nothing wrong tonight” You try not to roll your eyes at how watery and shaky your voice sounds. Katsuki sets his jaw and slowly breathes in and out of his nose, almost like a bull getting ready to charge.

“How am I going to get this through your head?” He mutters to himself, you roll your eyes in return and give him a pointed look. You know that you shouldn’t be getting riled up, but the exhaustion is sapping away your patience. Logically you know that you should just stop with the retorts, listen to him, and yet,

“Well? Are you going to tell me why you’re mad at me or am I just supposed to be a mind-reader?”

That was the last straw.

“I don’t know how or why you can’t see this,” he starts slowly, mulling over his thoughts, “but the way you handled tonight was...it was...you shouldn’t have pushed yourself that hard.”

“But every-”

“I don’t care that everything else turned out fine!” He raises his voice momentarily, forcing himself to come back down, “I’m not mad that you took care of everything else, I’m mad that you didn’t take care of yourself.” Ruby eyes search your face for any sign of understanding.

“It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks,” he notices how your eyes widen, realizing that he knew your feelings all along. You were mistaken for thinking you ever needed to handle it by yourself.

“You are already strong and you don’t have to prove that to anyone. You don’t owe anyone shit, you don’t need to push yourself to the point of breaking just to show that you can make it there.” He slips his warm, coarse hands into your softer ones, gripping tightly. He leans forward to put his forehead against yours,

“I need you. I need you in my life, and I need you to take care of yourself.” Desperation seeps into his voice, begging you to give yourself the love you deserve. Quietly, he adds,

“For my sake, at least, don’t be careless, dumbass.” He pulls back slightly to look at you, eyes glassy and full of pain. He doesn’t say anything else, letting his words float around in your head. You laughably admit to yourself,

He’s right. I am a dumbass.

Your face is wet with tears, salty drops still haven’t stopped cascading down your skin. You were being foolish, but you didn’t want to admit it, letting your pride suffocate you. You’re sniffling nonstop but still trying to keep your cries as tucked away as possible, your whole body shaking with stifled sobs. He lets go of your hands to cup your face, thumbs wiping away fresh tears.

“You can let it out, you know. You let me.”

You throw your arms around him, clutching him, afraid that he’ll float away from you. Keeping him in a tight, tight, tight embrace, hands collecting handfuls of his shirt. Like a broken record, repeating over and over again, strangled, I’m sorry’s. He hums in response, rubbing circles on your back as he holds you. Unbeknownst to you, he’s thankful you can’t see his tears that manage to slip out, knowing you would only cry harder.

The two of you stay like that until your sobs have subsided. He pulls away, wiping away the rest of your tears and holding your face again. You stare into each other’s tired and bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t want you to be careless anymore. I don’t want you to feel like you have to prove yourself to anyone. I want you to see what I already know, what is already true. You are more than enough, you are more than strong enough, and I need you to see that. Okay?”

Nodding, you whisper,

“I know,” You bite your lip and nod again.

“I know.”

Sometime later, after cuddles and soft voices, you lay in bed, wrapped up in fluffy blankets. Rubbing at the gauze around your arm, you stare at the ceiling, ruminating on what Katsuki said.

He’s right. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone, especially not to assholes who don’t even know me. Next time that I want to be reckless, I’ll just think of him. The one who loves me and knows me.

You close your eyes and smile to yourself.

The one who knows I’m strong.

807 notes · View notes

moralesispunk · 3 years

Text

In his eyes III (Pero Blacksmith AU)

Pero Tovar x Female Reader

Part 3 of short Pero Blacksmith AU series

Part 2 here / Masterlist here under Pero / Part 4 here

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, smut a lot of smut but also soft Pero

Summary: with your father at his brothers, Pero and you grow closer in the first three days he is gone.

Word count: 8.3k (I have split this into two parts because it was so long but also because so many were looking forward to it and I have not been able to edit the rest yet!)

Day one

Two days later your father left for his brothers, leaving early in the morning. He woke you from your sleep before he went, telling you where he had left the keys for the bakery and coins for the market. You decided to stay in bed for a while longer, the room still dark with no sight of the sun yet.

Sleep did not find you again so you decided to start your day while the rest of the world was still in darkness. You got ready as usual, tying a cloth around your hair to keep it back from your face for the day. Although you knew how to run the bakery, believing you could run it in your sleep, you had only done it a few times by yourself and never for more than two days at a time.

As you double and triple checked that you had everything you would need for the day ahead, a short, sharp rap came to the front door. You froze in the middle of the room, not sure who would be calling by so early in the day. As you slowly opened the door, only enough to check who was standing outside, you found Pero.

He had been turned to face away from the door but as he heard the knob twist he had turned his head around. He was dressed in his usual black, well worn work clothes, though his hair a little smoother than usual. The sun was only now making its way over the tree line, giving enough light to make out his face that was still puffy from a nights sleep. He would look soft had it not been for his scar that stood out as usual.

“Pero?” you opened the door wider so to take in his full appearance.

“Your father left this morning, yes?” he asked and you nodded, “would you like me to walk you to work?”

“Walk me to work?” you repeated.

“The mornings are still dark, the path through the forest even darker.”

“Oh,” you cheeks flushed knowing that Pero had thought about you as he woke this morning, deciding to start his day by walking you to the bakery. You tried to force yourself to think that he only did so because he promised your father he would check in on you this week but even this seemed more than was promised, “well, thank you, Pero. I just need to put on my coat.”

Pero nodded and waited by the door as you tied your cloak around your shoulders, warning off the spring mornings that were still carrying a chill. As you stepped out of the door, Pero moved off the step to let you lock it behind you.

The walk to the village was quiet as you followed the narrow path through the forest next to one another. Pero kept his steps in time with yours despite his much longer legs, occasionally causing you to brush up against one another before avoiding each other’s blushing cheeks. The closer you got to the village the more birds woke with the morning sun, their songs providing music for your walk.

The village was still quiet as you entered, only shop owners making their way through the street to open up for the day. Although the blacksmiths was before the bakery on the street, Pero walked with you to the front of your shop.

As you unlocked the door you turned to face him, “thank you, Pero.”

He nodded, rocking on his heels for a moment before opening his mouth, “can I walk you home this evening?”

“Yes, Pero. I would like that very much,” you giggled slightly, turning to walk into the bakers as Pero walked to his work.

Your day went in quickly as you manned both the front and back of the bakers. When the last customer left you finally felt the impact of the day on your body, the balls of your feet painful with each step. You carried the empty trays from the bread into the back of the shop, catching your reflection in the window. Your face had specks of flower across it, standing out against your flushed cheeks, and your hair was slowly coming undone from under the cloth. As you washed the trays to dry overnight you heard the bell from the door and the call of your name from the front of the shop.

“Pero?” you called back, listening to the sound of his footsteps that neared.

“Busy day?” his eyes scanned the room and the trays upon trays that you had washed.

“I forgot how much work it is to man the front and back by myself,” you laughed tiredly, “I am finished now though, I just need to collect today’s coins.”

He nodded and waited as you counted and recounted the coins you took in today, carefully placing them in your bag and placing the bag in your pocket. The walk back to your home was just as quiet as the morning, though this time because both of you were recovering from a long day of work. Your mind wandered to what food was in the kitchen, remembering you had started a stew the night before that you could finish when you got home. As the sight of the cottage came into view your feet stopped walking as you realised you did not want to say goodbye to Pero just yet.

Pero stopped his steps in time with yours, turning and calling your name.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you shot out your mouth quickly.

He turned to look at the cottage and back down the empty path before his eyes finally landed on yours.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you awaited his answer. His hand reached up to rub over the scruff of hair around his jaw before he nodded and you both restarted your walk to the cottage.

The sun was still high enough in the sky as you unlocked the door, taking off your jacket as you stepped inside. You moved to the kitchen but turned when you did not hear the sound of his footsteps following you.

“Are you not coming in?” you turned to him.

“Your father wont mind?” his eyes looking around the room, settling on anything other than you.

“Would he have asked you to check in on me if so?”

Pero thinks for a moment before realising you were right, closing the door behind him before joining you in the kitchen.

“Can I help?”

“First, you can take off your work clothes,” you point down at his layers covered in soot, “and then I will fetch some water to wash our hands and faces.”

He nodded, stripping himself down to his base tunic as you walked out to the well to gather enough water to fill a basin to clean the day of work off you both. When you came back you quietly washed yourselves before Pero stared the fire for the stew.

“Do you like wine?” you asked as he walked back into the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Wine?” you asked again and he nodded. You poured some into two jugs, enough to drink until dinner was ready.

You reached to lift the pot of stew over to the fire in the sitting room but Pero’s hands stopped you, grunting as he lifted and walked it into the next room.

You followed with the jugs of wine, carrying the bottle under your arm, and sat on the floor in front of the fire at the other side of the table. Once the pot was set above the fire, Pero gave the stew a stir before moving to sit next to you.

“What do you make in the blacksmiths?” you turned to face him.

“A lot. Equipment for the farmers, weapons for the Lord, whatever else the villagers need,” he took a large drink from his mug, his eyes looking into the fire.

“Did you learn how to do this when you sold your sword?”

Pero shook his head, still not turning to face you, “my father was a blacksmith before he passed. He taught me the skills, believing I would take over from him but… there wasn’t enough money to keep my mother and my sister fed. We lived in a small village with not much work so I sold his workshop and began to sell my sword, sending my mother and sister coins until they passed.”

“Oh, Pero. I’m- I’m so sorry,” you looked down at your hands.

“Don’t be,” he turned to face you, “it was long ago now.”

“Nevertheless. My mum passed long ago and I still miss her. It is okay to miss those you love.”

Pero held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching yours in the light of the fire.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“You can ask me as many questions as you wish, hermosa”

You wanted to ask him what that word meant but it wasn’t the first question on your list.

“You have told me stories of your travels but not one about-” your eyes fell to the scar on his face. “You don’t have to if you do not want to.”

“It is not as interesting as you may think,” he chuckled, “I was young, in my early days of selling my sword. A Lord paid me to seek out the man who shared his wife’s bed while he was away on his travels and I discovered it was the Inn keeper’s son. I went after dark, when the Inn was shut and there was his mother waiting for me. She told me to leave and I did not listen. I tried to make my way into the back to find her son but… she had more bravery than many men I have been on the road with, giving me this and warning me never to go back.”

“Was it sore?”

He nods, his eyes darting down to your lips before back up again, “but nothing I cannot handle,” he smirks.

You reached up, letting your fingers trace over the scar for a moment. Pero leaned into your touch, fighting to keep his eyes open despite the warmth of your skin on his.

“You are a very handsome man, Pero,” the words fell from your mouth before you could stop them.

You watched as his mouth fell open, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought of what to say in response. His mind did not work fast enough, your hand falling back onto your lap before you pushed yourself up to pour two bowls of stew.

You placed both bowls on the table, walking to the kitchen to bring back some bread, butter and cutlery.

The pair of you eat in silence, the stew warming your bodies from the inside. You bit back a smile at the way Pero huddled over his bowl, ripping the bread with his teeth and sending crumbs into his moustache. From days of travel you thought as you took your dinner slower, savouring the taste of the meat and vegetables that your father had left for you.

Once you had finished, Pero took the bowls and pot to wash the dishes in the basin and placing the leftover stew on the stovetop. You placed more wood on the fire, pulling a blanket onto your lap as you leaned against the pillows you brought onto the floor.

Pero joined you soon, sitting by your side. You moved to place the blanket over his lap, the tiredness of your muscles meaning you did not care about leaning into his side slightly.

“Can you tell me about your homeland?”

You felt Pero shift slightly beside you before settling.

“It is beautiful. A lot warmer than here but not as green. Wonderful food, you would like it I think…”

His voice carried on, telling you more and more about his home and you felt your eyes begin to close. You moved your head to rest on his shoulder, making his voice halt of a moment, looking down at your soft face. He noticed how your eyelashes rested on your cheeks and the way your smile didn’t quite disappear even on the edge of sleep. He continued talking until he heard your breathing becoming louder and more even.

He whispered your name, moving his hand to gently shake your thigh.

“You should go to bed,” he stated as you looked up at him, watching you lazily nod against his shoulder.

He helped you to your feet, walking to gather his work clothes left in the kitchen before meeting you by the door again. Neither of you wanted to leave one another’s company just yet but the sun had completely disappeared and the only sound from outside was a lonely owl perched on a branch near by.

“I will walk you to work tomorrow?” he asked and you nodded.

You opened the door, leaning against it as you waited for him to leave. When he walked by you felt your hand reach out for his, taking it in yours for a moment and giving it a squeeze. He gently squeezed back, lifting it to press his lips against the back of your knuckles for a moment before walking out again.

“Pero,” you called after him as he reached the end of the garden, “one more question?”

He laughed and nodded, turning and waiting for you to go on.

“What does hermosa mean?”

He chuckled, shaking his head and looking down at the ground before back up at you again. His wide smile covered his whole face, his usual scowl disappearing for a moment, “beautiful.”

You smiled, gripping the door tighter to hold yourself up as he turned to walk away again.

Day two

The next morning Pero showed up your house once again, waiting for you as you finished getting ready for the day. The walk to the village was quiet once more as you bumped shoulders trying to walk next to one another on the path. He walked by your side to the bakery, watching you carefully as you unlocked the shop and stepped inside. He wished you goodbye, agreeing he would be back to walk you home again.

Around half way into the day, the Inn Keeper came in for some bread.

“Good afternoon, what can I help you for today?”

“Just a loaf for myself, please my lovely. How is your father I haven’t seen him in two days?” You laughed quietly at the question, remembering just how village life could be, gossip starting at the smallest of changes.

“He is visiting his brother, my uncle. He will be back in a few days,” you reply as you wrap up her loaf in brown paper.

“Is that why the blacksmith has been walking you to work each morning,” her eyebrow raised as she smirked.

“Yes. My father asked Per- Mr Tovar to check in on me while he was away,” you handed over the bread, avoiding her eyes as your face burned.

“You should bring him to the Inn tonight for some dinner. My son, you know Henry don’t you, went to the fish port the other day and brought back some wonderful catch to sell.”

Your mouth watered at the thought. Being inland meaning you lived off chicken and beef most of the time, fish only coming into the village where someone travelled to the coast. You nodded, telling her you would stop by after you closed the bakers.

All day you thought about the fish that would be at the Inn, whether it would be in a stew or in a pie. The thought of dinner made you work faster than usual, cleaning up and closing the shop faster than Pero managed to close the Blacksmiths. You walked along the street, pulling the cloak around your body as you skipped up his steps.

He was standing over a basin, washing his hands. His apron was already hanging on the wall, showing he was done for the day and so you knocked at the door. He turned to face you and if you didn’t know better you would have backed away from his scowl but noticing the lightness in his eyes you stepped in.

“I was thinking we could go to the Inn tonight, they have fish.”

“Fish?” his eyebrows pulled together at your invitation.

“Yes, fish. You don’t get it often in the village,” you explained.

He nodded, drying his hands on a cloth that hung over a hook on the wall.

“No one will mind that we are going together, without your father?”

“It is a small village Pero, most people have went to the Inn together at some point. It also isn’t a very religious village, I don’t know if you noticed that much,” you laughed, reaching for his own jacket to hand him.

He smirked slightly. He had realised that people were a little more relaxed in this village than others he had passed through before. Unmarried men and women were free to be friendly to one another without any lingering chaperone or words of sin. It put him at ease but caused a weight to grow at the bottom of his stomach as he questioned in what way you looked at him.

He looked at you and saw the sun, moon and stars. He wondered what you saw when you looked at him…

“Pero?” you held the coat towards him. He grabbed it grunting a thank you and nodding at the invite.

You both walked to the Inn, the sounds of conversations already buzzing along the street with people finishing their days of work here. When you opened the door your eyes scanned the room finding one empty table left. You nudged Pero with your elbow, nodding towards the table. He moved by you, placing his hand on your waist as he did so, before leading you through the crowd hand in hand. His hand enveloped yours, making you feel even smaller behind him as you followed in his footsteps to the table.

He pulled out a chair, standing back as you sat down, before moving to sit opposite you. The friendly Inn Keeper came over to the table, her warm smile welcoming you both.

“Good job I kept two fish pies aside. Something to drink?”

“Ale, please,” you smiled back and Pero grunted the same to her.

The Inn buzzed around you, men and women drinking at the end of a long day. When the ales arrived Pero listened as you spoke about your day, nodding when you complained about customers and laughing as you told him of the flour explosion. A few ales later, your pies arrived and you eat in silence. You watched as Pero’s eyes glided around the room, one arm wrapped around his bowl protectively as though he was a man still travelling the road. You smiled at him. He truly did not care what anyone thought of him. While this was true you didn’t know there was one exception to that - you. As his eyes fell back on you he sat a little straighter in his chair, eating slower and savouring the taste.

“What do you think?” you nodded to the near empty plate in front of him.

He grunted, nodding back at your plate.

“I love the fish pie here. I wish I could have it more often.”

As you both finished Pero watched how your eyes were closed over a little more than usual. The ale was obviously hitting you as you giggled at any remark he made. You rested your elbow on the table, leaning your head in your hand as you asked him to tell another story from his travels. Your eyes were shining in the candlelight, the lazy smile as you listened to him stretching your cheeks with every laugh that passed your lips. He could stay and watch you for the rest of the night but as he looked out the window, finding the moon already high in the sky he placed coins on the table and held his arm out to you.

You stood from the table, stumbling slightly as you pushed the chair back but Pero’s arm steadying you. He looked down at you, smiling.

“Drunk?”

“N-no, ‘m not drunk,” you said as you held onto his arm a little tighter while he weaved your bodies through the crowd and out the Inn.

The walk to your home seemed longer than usual as you stumbled through the path, the darkness not helping but you were thankful to have Pero’s arm to hang on to. Around half way through the path he gave up holding you and lifted you into his arms, carrying you all the way into your home.

He could feel you falling asleep in his arms so walked by the sitting room to your bedroom. It was the first time he had seen it, his eyes scanning around the trinkets that covered the shelves before finally landing on the bed. He placed you gently on the bed before moving to light the fire in your room.

You propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched him light the fire, tilting your head and taking him in. His back muscles strained as he moved the wood around, the back of his neck visible when he leaned forward to blow on the sparks. When he got the fire going he turned on his heels to face you from his crouched position on the ground.

“You should get ready for bed,” he stated simply, moving to walk out the door.

“Wait, Pero. Will you stay tonight?”

The scowl on his face harshened for a moment as he shook his head, “I- I don’t think that is a good idea.”

“Please,” you whispered, “just for company. I- I know what I’m asking, my mind is not that altered by the ale you do not have to worry.”

He thought for a moment, waiting by the door and looking in at you lying on the bed.

“Just for company,” he nodded.

Pero turned on his heels, moving to the well at the back of the house to pour enough water for you both to wash before bed. When he came back you were already sitting on the edge in your night dress. He had seen you plenty times before but never like this. The loose, white dress stopped halfway down your arms, the neckline lower than any he had seen on you before, the hem only just below your knees. He had seen more of plenty other women before but never like you, the soft skin noticeable under the light of the fire. Your hair was now loose too, falling around your face as it should be.

“I- I brought water.”

You both knelt by the fire, slowly washing away the day. Pero noticed as you moved to kneel by the bed, your eyes shut and hands clasped as you mouthed a few words before standing again.

“I did not know you prayed,” he noted before pouring the water out of the window.

“Not always,” you pulled the sheets on the bed back before climbing under them, “I pray at the start of spring for a good harvest, at the start of winter for a kind storm, when people fall sick, and when my father travels.”

He nods, moving to lie on the floor by the bed before you grasp his arm.

“I don’t bite,” you tease, pulling back the sheets for him to join you. He looks at the floor and the space next to you in the bed before sighing.

He removes his outer layers, left with the last layer between him and his skin. You truly notice the muscles in his arms for the first time, hard with years of labour but the skin that covers them soft. He has freckles dotted over them, making you smile as your eyes move down his body. He climbs in next to you, waiting for you to move before he does. You turn to face him and he decides to face you too, looking at your face under the moonlight that streams in through the window.

“You are a very handsome man, Pero,” you say as you let your hands trace his face, running over his strong nose and scar along his eye.

“Kings and Lords are handsome, I am not.”

“Are Kings and Queens, Lords and Ladies the only ones who can hold beauty?”

He shakes his head, reaching up to trace over your own face, “I have met many a Queen and Lady, none come close to your beauty.”

“Well, I have never met a King and very few Lords, but you are the most handsome man my eyes have had the luck to fall upon,” you move forward, holding your breath as you press a kiss to his scar, “goodnight, Pero.”

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he pulls you closer to his chest, waiting until he knows you are asleep before he lets himself dream of you.

Day three

You woke the next morning wrapped in Pero’s arms. Your head lay on his chest, the steady rise and fall comforting you as you let your eyes wake to the world. One of his arms lay off the side of the bed while the other held you close against his side.

You lifted your hand to trace circles on the part of his chest that was free at the top of his undershirt. He stirred under you for a moment before his eyes opened and found yours.

“Morning,” you whispered.

He grunted, pulling you tighter against his chest as he stretched out in the bed.

You laughed quietly, noticing how he appeared even grumpier at this time in the morning. You pulled yourself away from his warmth no matter how much your body wanted to cling to it.

Groaning as you stood from the bed, you reached your arms up to stretch out your back. Pero’s eyes trailed up your body for a moment before he forced them away upon seeing the soft skin of your thighs.

Walking towards your small set of drawers, you pulled clothes for the day out before lifting the empty basin from the night before and filling it up. By the time you got ready for the day, setting two bowls of porridge on the table for you and Pero, you walked back to your room to find him sitting on he edge of your bed and playing with his hands.

“I have set some breakfast for us.”

He nodded, following you to the table where you both sat for breakfast.

“Thank you for staying last night, Pero. I- Staying so far away from the village, it’s nice to have the company at night,” you looked down at the bowl in front of you.

“I was worried you would regret it, letting me stay,” his eyebrows pulled together as he searched your face for any sign that you were.

“I don’t, I would never. I like spending time with you, Pero.”

You eyes met for a moment, child-like shy smiles pulling on your lips for a moment before you looked back down to finish the bowls of porridge in front of you.

The walk to work that morning was slightly faster than usual as there was a little more bounce in your step. You even noticed Pero’s usual scowl had been replaced by something lighter. Not quite a smile, no upturn of the lips or relaxing of his eyebrows, but a lightness that was surrounding him.

When you reached the bakers you turned to Pero as usual to say goodbye but this time you stood on your toes, balancing yourself against his arm and placed a kiss to his cheek. You were close enough to notice the pull of his lips before he straightened them again, nodding and turning to walk to his own work.

Everywhere in the village worked a half day today, meaning you did not have to go as long without seeing the handsome man who shared your bed the night before. You both must have had the same thought of finishing work quickly as you met each other between the bakery and blacksmiths.

“Mr Tovar,” you smiled and he laughed back your name.

You spend time enjoying the walk back to your house, looking at all the flowers that were standing straighter in the midday sun. The pollen was dancing in the sunlight that breached the spaces between the tall trees making the whole forest smell like summer.

When you finally reached the garden you collapsed onto the grass, throwing your hands above your head and letting your legs stretch out. For a moment Pero panicked thinking you had tripped until he noticed the calm look on your face.

There was a lazy smile on your lips and your eyes were closed as you enjoyed the feeling of the sun on your face. Your palms were turned up, fingers dancing in the sunlight and you kicked your shoes off for your toes to do the same.

“Are you joining me,” you shielded your eyes with one hand as you opened an eye to look up at Pero.

He tilted his head, taking in the sight before him. He had always thought you were beautiful and light, innocent and happy, but in this moment he was truly in awe of you. Nodding, he lifted his work layers over his head to let his arms feel the sun on them before sitting next to you. He rolled the legs of his trousers up to let his calves feel the warmth too before lying next to you.

For a while, the only sound that filled the air was of the birds singing their spring songs and the nearby river running through the fields. You began to hum under your breath as your head lulled from side to side, feeling the grass tickle your cheeks.

“What is that?” Pero’s voice came from next to you.

You turned to face him, finding he was already looking at you. His face was much more relaxed than usual, not happy or sad but content as he lay in the sun.

“A lullaby my mother used to sing. I don’t remember the words just the tune.”

“It sounds beautiful.”

You both looked back up to the sky, taking in the tall trees above you and brush your hands along the grass. The side of your hand bumps into Pero’s and you jerk it back towards you for a moment before slowly brushing over the grass back towards his hand. You let your pinky rest up against his, waiting to see if he will pull away. When he doesn’t you let your fingers run across the back of his before locking yours and his together. You hold your breath, waiting to see what will happen. He removes his hand and for a moment you regret your action before he turns his palm over, holding your hand and his against one another.

You hear the grass rustle as he turns his head to face you again, his free hand reaching across his body to grasp your chin slightly. As he turns your head to face him, he lets his knuckles drag across your cheek. You close your eyes, feeling the heat from his hands and enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours. When you turn your head even more, pressing your lips against his knuckles he freezes, his eyes wide for a moment as he swallows. His hand stays still as he stares into your eyes before he moves to turn onto his side.

You mirror his movements, now both facing one another and hands still locked together between your bodies. His hand stays on your cheek but moves to cup it gently, holding it in place as he lifts his head closer to yours.

You feel your eyes look down at his lips, soft and parted as they come closer to you. When you look back up to his eyes they are now on your lips before flicking back up to yours.

“Is this okay?” he whispers and you nod.

“Please, Pero. Kiss me,” you sigh.

In a moment his lips are on yours, gentle and slow as they press together. He stays still for a moment, taken aback by just how soft they feel on his before he parts his mouth and kisses you. His kiss is soft, making sure to feel every single movement against him and swallow every last sigh that escapes your mouth. When your free hand reaches up to hold his arm tight he pulls your body closer to his, deepening the kiss.

He takes his hand from yours, breaking the kiss to move your bodies so he was now lying back on the grass and your legs were at either side of his, straddling his waist as your head dipped back down to meet his lips once more.

One of your hands balanced on his chest and the other on the grass next to his head as he kept one of his hands on your cheek, his whole palm taking over the side of your face, and other on your waist, rubbing circles gently into your side. His tongue grazed over your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, your own dancing against his until you were both breathless and dizzy. Pero moved his hand from your waist to cup your other cheek, lifting your head back to take in your face.

“Tell me to stop and I will stop,” he looks into your eyes, making sure he was not overstepping.

“Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. I want you Pero.”

“I need you to tell me what you want,” his eyes moving back to your lips before meeting your eyes again. Pero wanted to feel every inch of you, his cock starting to strain against his trousers at the thought, but he did not want to take more than you were ready to give.

“You, Pero. I want you, if you will have me,” you sighed and leaned down to kiss him again.

You lips moved together in sync, moans falling from your lips before being caught by the other. Pero’s hands moved from your cheeks, gently down your arms and smiling into your kiss when the goosebumps rose in response. They moved down your waist where he gripped at your layers seeking to feel you and they kept moving down to your waist and squeezing before finally finding your thighs and all the way to your ankles, circling your soft skin as they rested at either side of his hips.

When he finally found your skin, he pulled your skirts up slowly, waiting to see if your hands stopped him. His hands finally touched your bare thighs under the skirts, his rough and calloused hands from years of hard labour touching your soft skin, and you moaned into the kiss. A true moan from the back of your throat that you had no control over the minute you felt his hands on you. It was an automatic response like the way your thighs tightened around his waist, rocking slightly to release a pressure that was building inside you.

“Not here,” Pero whispered against your lips, kissing you once on the lips, each cheek and forehead, before lifting your from him and standing, holding his hand out for you to join him.

You followed him quietly as he lead to you the your bedroom, the one he had seen for the first time the night before.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he reached to hold your face gently.

“Trust me, Pero. This is what I want,” you reached your own hands up to hold over his.

He smiled, kissing you once before standing straight.

“We should wash then.”

The both of you stayed quiet as you start the fire and heat the water, taking turns filling the basin in the corner of your room. Once it was full enough and the right temperature you faced on another next to the tub of water, waiting for someone to make the first move.

You turned and looked at Pero over your shoulder, lifting your hair to show the tied ribbon at the back. He walked towards you slowly, attempting to stop his shaking hands as he reached to pull the ribbon loose. When it came undone he slowly pushed it off your shoulder, leaning down to kiss each inch of skin on your shoulder as it was exposed until he reached your underdress. He let it fall to the ground, moving to stand in front of you holding your hand as you step out of the dress.

You reach down, grabbing at the fabric of your underskirt and pulling until it you lift it over your head. With your whole body now on show you suddenly feel shy, your arms wrapping around your body to hide some skin. Pero gently shakes his head as he takes your small wrists in his large hands and brings them down to your side, stepping towards you and holding your face in one of his hands. His eyes look down at your body, making sure to notice every mark and curve that covers your soft skin. He pulls the band that holds your hair back, letting it fall free around your face.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.

Your hands reach up and grab at the end of the tunic, the only layer that was left along with his trousers after taking off his work layers earlier. He raises his arms as you lift it up over his head. You take your lower lip into your mouth as you look down at his body, tan and muscular but soft around the middle. It is littered in scars, one in particular that catches your eye as it crosses one side of his chest. You trace it with your fingers before stepping forward to kiss it gently. You hear Pero sigh as you do so, not seeing the way his eyes close and face relaxes. No one had ever treated him with as much care and love as you had.

You let your hand run down his body only stopping when you reach the waistband of his trousers. He nods and you move to your knees, gently tugging his trousers down with you. You gasp when his cock springs free from the confines, hard and pressed against his stomach already leaking. You hide your face as you work to untie his boots before taking his trousers off the rest of the way, hoping he doesn’t see the redness that covers your cheeks at the sight.

When you stand back up he holds your chin in his hand, “Have you ever done this before?” You shake your head and try and look down again but his hand stops you. “Do not be embarrassed. We will only do what you want to do.”

Pero steps around you and into the tub, holding your hand in his and letting you join him. It is a small tub and as Pero sits, bringing you to sit between his legs, some of the water sloshes over the side. He holds you close to his chest and lifts the soap, washing it up and down your arms and back before doing his own.

The feel of his skin against yours, soft in parts and rough in others, sends a warmth through your whole body. When his lips finally attach to your neck, placing gentle kisses down it onto your shoulders you can’t stop the moan that leaves your throat. One of his hands rests on your leg running up and down the inside before resting on the crease at the top of your thigh while the other comes up to your chest. He gently squeezes your breast before he catches your nipple between two of his fingers, nipping and twisting until it is hard. Your head rolls back onto his shoulder, looking up at him from below his jaw as his hand moves to give the other the same attention.

“Pero, please,” you gasp, not sure what you are whispering.

“Go lie down on the bed,” he leans and captures your lips in his before releasing your nipple from his hand and letting you stand.

The room is now warm from the fire and you dry your body with a towel as you walk towards the bed. You move to lie at the top with your head resting on the pillow as Pero finishes washing himself before also stepping out of the tub and drying himself.

He stands at the end of the bed, taking your body in as it shines under the moonlight. You force your arms down on the bed, making sure not to cover yourself in embarrassment. You trust Pero in this moment, more than you have trusted anyone before.

“Can I make you feel good?” he near-growls as he stalks over your body, crawling up so your eyes were in line with one another. You nod and he shakes his head, “I need to hear you say it for me.”

“Please, Pero. Make me feel good,” you whine and he hungrily claims your lips in his.

He kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking on your collarbone before kissing down your body and resting between your legs. He looks up at you as he spreads your legs open for him, keeping them that way with his shoulders. His eyes stay on yours as he kisses and softly nips at the skin on the inside of your thighs, waiting until you were squirming under him before he moved to lick a stripe up your folds.

Your head falls back against the pillow as he holds you down with one arm draped across your stomach and the other holding your folds open as he licks again and again. His lips finally attach to your clit and he notices the way you gasp, how you whine when he starts slow before panting when he moves faster, eventually finding the rhythm that has you moaning his name like a prayer.

“I want you to look at me,” he lifts his head to speak, waiting until your eyes were back on his before he moved again.

“Please, Pero I- I”

He hummed against you, making your legs shake around his head. There was a warmth building inside you, growing stronger and stronger with every flick of his tongue.

Your hands found their way into his hair, grabbing on to him as he worked. The feeling inside you was stronger than anything you had felt before, like a current running through you from head to toe.

Pero looked up at you, your mouth open and eyes wide as your body tingles with every move he made. Your shoulders were tensed and he sat up, his hand running up and down your stomach for a moment, “relax, my love. I’ve got you, just let yourself go.”

His head dipped back down and you let your shoulders relax, holding his hand that lay across your stomach while your other hand gripped at the sheets. You made yourself keep your gaze on him, watching as his mouth smirked when you moaned a bit louder.

Suddenly the warmth crashed through your body, your back arching off the bed and legs shaking. Pero kept going, working you through your high and rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb until your back relaxed back against the bed and your thighs stopped shaking. Your eyes had been squeezed shut and as you opened them you found his eyes on yours, full of a softness as you repeated his name out of your mouth.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “you did so good. How was that?” His head rested on your thigh as he waited for you to answer.

“Amazing, Pero. I didn’t know I could feel like that,” you sighed making him chuckle.

“I plan to make you feel like that again, if you wish?”

You nodded and he let his fingers trace down your folds, stopping at your entrance. He pressed one inside, watching as your back lifted off the bed once more before settling after a moment. He watched as his finger pushed in and out of you slowly, waiting for you to adjust before he added another. The sound of your moans was like music to his ears as he picked up the pace a little, attaching his lips back to your bundle of nerves.

“You are so beautiful, taste so sweet,” he mumbled against your skin.

The same warmth was flowing through your body again and Pero felt you walls tighten against him. He lifted his head, curling his fingers and coaxing another out of you. Your body tensed, his name falling from your lips once again as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you. His chest swelled as the only word that could fall from your mouth in this moment of sheer bliss was his name.

When you finally relaxed once more he pulled his fingers from you, putting them in his mouth and sucking them clean. You watched him carefully as he dragged both fingers up your folds again, gathering more wetness.

“Do you wish to taste?”

You nodded and he crawled up your body, placing his fingers in your mouth.

“Sweet isn’t it,” he smirked as you hummed around his fingers. He felt the way your tongue flicked over him, wondering how your mouth would feel around his cock but knowing he could try that another day.

He rested himself over you, a forearm at either side of your head. Your eyes looked down between your bodies, looking at his cock that was now red and dripping.

“I want you, Pero,” you whispered against his lips, tasting yourself on him when they finally collided.

He pulled back, wanting to look you in the eyes as he pushed into you. He shifted his weight onto one forearm, his free hand coming down to line himself at your entrance.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

You nodded but upon seeing his mouth open you spoke, “I promise.”

He nodded, pushing in slowly. It took every single bit of strength he had not to fill you completely in this moment but he wanted you to enjoy it and he definitely did not want to hurt you. He waited until you nodded before moving in further each time until he was finally bottomed out. His lips crashed against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth as he felt your walls tighten around him.

“Please, Pero. Move,” you begged, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

His hand held tightly onto your hip as he wrapped your legs around his waist, starting with slow deep thrusts. You moans filled the room as he growled with each thrust and you gasped each time he filled you completely. Your body was still so sensitive from the two times you had already cum tonight that you could feel another one nearing and as could Pero.

You looked into his eyes and let the words fall from your mouth.

“I love you, Pero.”

He shook away the tears that were stinging at the corner of his eyes at those words. There was no uncertainty in them, no reason for him to believe that they were only being shared because of the way your bodies were moving against one another. You loved him for who he was.

“I love you,” he whispered back along with your name.

He quickened his pace, swallowing your moans with his mouth. When he felt your body tense around him, holding him in place he kissed down your neck and biting slightly. He pulled out as he spilled his seed over your stomach with a shout of your name, watching the way it glistened on your skin.

Your legs unwrapped from his waist and arms from his back as he sat back on his heels looking down at you. His chest was rising and falling heavily, every scar that covered his chest and face illuminated by the moonlight. He was perfect, every mark telling a story of how he was brought to you. You knew you would make sure to kiss each one when you had the chance but for now you would let him hold you in his arms.

You looked back down to your stomach, gathering his seed on your fingers before bringing it to your lips to taste. Pero groaned at the sight, something so dirty but by someone so innocent. He watched as your body relaxed more, the moon showing the glint in your eyes as you looked up at him. He reached for a cloth, cleaning between your legs and on your stomach before lying next to you and pulling you onto his chest.

He could already feel your breathing slow and he pulled the sheet over your bodies, hugging you closer to him. You fought off sleep for long enough to lift your head and kiss his cheek, on the scar, and lips one last time before sleep.

“I love you, Pero, so much. Thank you,” you whispered against his chest.

“I love you. You have my heart and soul,” he murmured into your hair, letting the tears of love and joy he had held back release as he fell asleep with you in his arms.

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl

Pero tag // @bonktime @justpedropascal @coldlilheart @shadowolf993 @stylelovechild @frostsoldier @idreamofboobear @artsymaddie @ajeff855 @strangelittlenobody @elegantduckturtle

#pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fanfic #pero tovar fic #Pero Tovar #the Great Wall #headcannon

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xxxtrouvaillexxx · 3 years

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Let’s Strike a Deal

A/N: This is late, I know. If you have not realized from before, I’m really bad at meeting deadlines. Well, at least deadlines that I’ve created for myself to follow because I like to procrastinate things and frankly… what am I gonna do to myself? Band myself from tea until I’ve written a chapter? I don’t have the self control for that! And life is hectic. But you know, enough with my excuses and onto the story. Hope you enjoy. I always love feedback so please be sure to leave a comment! ALSO I wanted to give a TRY (key word) to first person. If I don’t like it... I might change it, idk. I should never write anything at 3am as per evidence below, especially without editing lmao

Pair: CEO!Tom x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N, the small town of Hawkshead girl trying to make her way in the big city of Westminster, London. Not as easy as she thought. When things start to take a turn for the worst one afternoon and only one man in the crowd of hundreds decides to help her, she does something rather uncharacteristic and gives her savor her number in case he could ever use help of his own. Course, she never expected for him to actually call her out on it.

Masterlist

Warning(s): none… yet. Cursing?

Word Count:

My time was limited. There was nothing left that had to be done here or anything left to pack. Everything I’ve ever owned sat in a car on the way to my new apartment and last of the suitcases were in the bed of my brothers pickup at this very moment while I sat on the floor of my room. There wasn’t anything left for me here, I knew that, but it was still difficult to say goodbye to the place that carried so many of my favorite memories and the imprints of my childhood that still were splayed around the surrounding room.

There were two dents in the wall right in front of me from when I was ten and hit my head after tripping on one of my toys, thumbtack holes that littered everywhere above the bed from forts that I would make with my brothers and friends, nail polish that was spilled on the carpet from times when I was too distracted with talking than keeping the bottle up straight, my engraved initials on the windowsill. The memories that I had made in this room were countless and they were all absolutely priceless.

“Y/N!” I heard your mother call from the living room, her voice was slightly hoarse from held back emotion and it broke my heart to hear her like that. “You got to get going, dear! You’ll miss your train if you wait much longer to head out.”

Taking a deep breath and slowly standing from the, now old, bed I made my way toward the door, feet dredging behind me and scuffing the floor as I walked out. “I know, Mama. I’m just-” the words caught in my throat and I was at a loss. “I’m really going to miss you guys so much.”

“Oh stop it, you’re gonna make me cry if you keep on like that,” She said giving a tight hug before pushing me out the front door. “You are going to love it in London so much you’re not even gonna be thinking about us here, so get goin’. Your brothers already waiting for you in the car.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her antics, “I love you Mama! I’ll call you when I get there!”

Jumping into the passenger seat of the truck, I waved final goodbyes from the window, dramatically blowing kisses as the car started to drive away.

“You better!” She exclaimed, watching as we pulled out and down the road.

“She is going to be a mess when I get back home. I can’t believe you’re going to leave me to deal with that alone!” Christian, stuck driving you to the train station much to his dismay, gave you a mocking glare. “After all the things I’ve done for your, this is how you choose to repay me? I’m pretty sure I’m getting the short end of the stick here,” he laughed humorlessly.

“Ahhh~” I cooed and smiled, “You’re only saying that cause you know you guys’ are going to be missing me so much!”

“Miss you?” He scoffed, “Yeah right. What we’re going to be missing is your baking. It’ll be the greatest blow our family has faced since 1824.”

I gave a scathing look, “And what, if I may ask, happened in 1824?”

“Don’t know, but something bad probably.”

»»-——————————————-««

I have never been so sore getting off of a bus in her life. The cheapest route to get to Westminster from Hawkshead was a train and 8 bus stops, totaling up to 10 or so hours in and out of vehicles. I groaned and stretched when my feet planted on hard asphalt for the first time in what seemed like forever. But, for all the soreness, I had made it to my destination with time to spare.

It was louder than I had imagined, crowded with traffic from all directions and people running any which way to get on with their lives. It was bustling and busy. Lively. Not exactly what I was used to which made me smile.

Wide.

I made it.

I only had a suitcase with me, the rest of her belongings would be delivered in a few days to the new apartment.

My apartment.

I was positively giddy at the thought.

It took a lot of self control to keep from skipping down the side walks while I somehow navigated the new scenery, but I managed to keep my excitement under wraps for the time being. Arriving an hour early gave me a bit of time to take in the bigger sites near by, like the Ferris wheel, the clock tower Big Ben, and my personal favorite- Westminster Palace and abbey. It was a dream of mine since I was little to see it in person, and now here I was standing mere blocks away from the grand building, elated and amazed.

Vibrating caught my attention and I barely managed to turn my eyes away from the sites in front of me to my phone, Kyra’s name popping up on the screen. My best friend and now room mate, Kyra Bardou, who was probably wondering where the hell I was now.

“Hey,” I drawled with an obvious grin I couldn’t even hide in my voice.

“Hey yourself! I’ve been waiting at the stop for 15 minutes with no sign of you only to learn you’re already in town and didn’t even bother to tell me!” She spoke so quickly I was shocked she didn’t run out of breath and laughed.

“I’m site seeing, sue me!” I turned and started making the slow walk back, “I’ll be back in a couple minutes, I promise.”

She only grunted in response and let me walk in a comfortable silence, letting me continue to take everything in while simply enjoying her presence on the line. It was the last few moments I’d get now, the last bits of my old life slipping through my fingers like sand in exchange for a new one.

And the chaos that comes with a big city.

Like robbers.

I couldn’t even let out a cry as I was shoved to the ground, my phone forced from my hand and my suitcase caught up in a strange mans arms. It took me a whole 5 seconds to get my bearings enough to yell at the man and give chase, shouting for help though no one so much as looked our way, just moved out of his.

“Stop!” I screamed, running but quickly losing him as he bobbed and weaved through the crowd skillfully. “Stop! Someone stop him!”

And this time, someone moved to action, running past me at an alarming rate and quickly gaining ground on my assailant before they both rounded a corner and I lost sight of them.

My heart dropped and I picked up speed again, hoping that I didn’t let them get far enough away for me to lose them completely, it would have been easy for them to get away from me here.

But when I turned around the block, I found the man on the ground with the track star of a man on top of him, already on the phone with I assume the police. I finally caught up to them and without thinking, hugged the man on the phone, a silent thank you while he spoke to whoever was on the line, before I gathered my things and hugging them close to me.

He smiled kindly, finishing the call and turning to me properly while still pinning the thief to the ground. “Are you alright miss?”

“Yes! Thank you so much, I’d have been completely lost without this,” I gestured to my luggage. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me get it back. I don’t even know how to get around town yet.”

He laughed and nodded. “So new to town then. It was my pleasure to help, though I was really just doing what anyone in my position would do,” he responded kindly.

Furiously I shook my head, “No, you didn’t. I don’t believe I saw a single soul other than you move to help. Unless you did but beat them to it at the last minute. Not that that it implausible, you are seriously fast on your feet.”

He laughed again and I noticed what a nice laugh he had, it was contagious and I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of my own now that my adrenaline was fading bit by bit. “Yes, well- I do enjoy the sport.”

“Dually noted,” I grinned, jumping a little when my phone started to buzz in my hands. Kyra’s name popping up on the screen again. “Shoot!” I exclaimed and answered. I wasn’t even able to put the phone to my ear before I heard her shouting my name on the line. “Kyra-”

“Oh my god, Y/N! What the heck happened, I heard you shout and then the line went dead! Are you okay? Did something happen? Where are you?” She was speaking so loudly I had to hold the phone away from my ear a safe distance as she spouted one question after another at me without reprieve.

My rescuer across from me chuckled, overhearing my frantic friend. “I’m fine, someone tried to steal my stuff on my way to meet you. Luckily someone came along and helped me catch him, otherwise I’d have lost everything. But everything is okay now, we are-” I looked around and realized I have no idea where we were.

He seemed to catch on to my newest distress and whispered, “Tell them we are on the corner of Tufton and Bennett’s Yard.”

I nodded and mouthed a thank you, “ Tufton and Bennett’s Yard,” I repeated and she said she’d be here in a 10 minutes and to sit and wait before hanging up the phone.

I slouched on the wall of some building, letting myself relax. “Not to be repetitive or anything, but thank you.”

He just shook his head, “No need. You’re friend sounded pretty worried about you, it wouldn’t do well to let her stew in that worry longer than needed.”

“Yeah, it’s been a few years since we last saw each other. She’d be pretty upset if something bad happened before I could even move in,” I laughed, though it didn’t quite sound right even to my ears. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” I introduced and stuck my hand out.

He took it and gave a firm shake, “Tom. It’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N. Even in these less than optimal circumstances.”

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.”

“Y/N!” Someone yelled, and we both turned our heads to see Kyra sprinting full speed around her car and at me. I stood and braced myself for the collision of her, and fell back against the wall with the force of her body.

“Holy shit, girl! You scared the hell outta me, you could have died! This is why I told you to call me when you first got into town, you always manage to get yourself into trouble like this. What would I have told your parents if something happened, huh? Huh!?”

I grinned and pulled back to get a proper look at her. Her black hair, normally frizzy was sticking out in every direction and her honeyed eyes wide as she scanned me over, running her hands over my arms for injuries. “I’m fine, Kyra. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, you’re right.”

“I know I’m right!” She shot back with a glare, “That doesn’t make me feel any better!”

“Well, there is a first for everything after all.”

Tom laughed hard at our back and forth, making us both jump a little and look down at him. Before I could even say anything, Kyra was down on his level with the thieves shirt in her fists and a scowl that would scare the devil himself on her face.

“Is this the bastard that did this?”

“Let go!” I shrieked and pulled her off, albeit with a little effort. “Tom called the cops and they’ll deal with this properly. Not you,” I said sternly. She just let out a huff of a response and pushed herself back enough to look at Tom properly.

She gave him a once over and held her scowl in place, “So you’re the one who saved Y/N/N?”

He gave a small, hesitant nod and gave me a nervous glance. I just laughed and stood back up, as Kyra launched forward to give him a hug. “Thank you,” she murmured a few times and pulled back.

“No worries,” he said, and looked far less distressed now that Kyra didn’t look like she wanted to gut him. “I was there at the right time is all.”

“Yes, well- That doesn’t mean what you did was anything less than amazing. My whole life is in that bag and in that phone at the moment. Seriously, if there is anything I can do for you in return it’s yours. Ice cream, some roller skates, a kidney. Just ask.”

Everyone laughed at that and he nodded with an obviously sarcastic “sure”, just as the police arrived to take the culprit and our statements. Kyra mumbled something about them being slow and went to the car for a few minutes to be out of the way.

15 minutes later, everything was settled and they took the man away. Leaving Tom and I alone on the side walk again while I settled everything in my case to be sure I didn’t miss anything and quickly scribbled on a stray notecard.

“I meant it when I said I owe you one,” I said and handed the card with my name and number to him. “Just give me a ring if I can ever be of any help at all and I’ll come running. Though, probably much slower than you did.”

He tried to decline the offer only once, but after some persistence he took it with another smile, “Thank you, Y/N. Hopefully this will not be our last meeting. And hopefully never again under such pressing circumstances,” he held out his hand, and I took it, returning his earlier shake with a firm one of my own and I agreed.

“Until next time then,” he said and left.

I barely was able to take my seat in the car before Kyra grasped my arm with a devious smile, “Y/N/N- Did you just give that guy your number?” My silence was answer enough and she laughed, “Girl! No way!”

No way was right, I thought with a small smile of my own as we pulled away and started home.

»»-——————————————-««

TAGS: open

@drakesfiance @dumbgopher1 @kewlbeans-22

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enmy-writes · 4 years

Text

Just Let Me Help You

Summary: Zuko, trying to keep is girlfriend safe, unintentionally gains the trust of the Gaang after a showdown with Combustion Man.

Word Count: 2728

Fandom: ATLA (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: Mostly fluff, is fluff-angst a thing? Idk guys I’m soft, you tell me.

Rated: 18+

Content Warnings: Profanity, some gore graphics (brief mentions of blood, killing, murder), uhhhh that’s it I think I’m sorry if I forget anything else.

****Huge shout-out to my friends Kenz and Jenna for editing this and hyping me up. Hopefully, since this semester from Hell will be over soon, I’ll be able to write more. Please request things! Thank-you all for supporting this and let me know more of what you want to see in the future :) Also, feedback is always welcome. Enjoy!****

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They had landed the war balloon days ago, stalking the tired and defeated Team Avatar and trying to figure out how the complicated Fire Prince would convince the people he chased for months that he wants to help them now.

(Y/N) was stoking the hot flame provided by the fire bender, making sure the coals were burning a cherry red before she added leaves and herbs into a pot to make a stew for the two to enjoy. Her eyes followed Zuko as he paced back and forth, practicing what he was going to say when he finally decided to confront the rebel group, lips turned upward in an amused smirk.

“Hey, Zuko here…” she heard him say before he started rambling a bunch of nonsense about his past; from his discovery, to Azula, to his father-- all the tragic topics. It took him about three minutes, but he finished with a hopeful look in his direction.

“Well?!” He clenched his fists at his side in a nervous gesture, only wanting to get this right.

The girl on the log cleared her throat before speaking, obviously hiding her laughter from the sensitive boy. “Well… it’s perfect. I especially liked the ‘Hey, Zuko here’ part. I’m sure that Aang and his friends with be very pleased to finally learn your name instead of thinking you’re called ‘Angry Ponytail Hotman’.’’

He groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists. The melodic laughter from his companion tempted him to give up his quest and just run away with her and live a happy life free of his father and his destiny… whatever that may be.

Still laughing, (Y/N) stood from her log by the fire and made her way to Zuko, coming up behind him. Her arms slid right around his slim body, holding on tight as she tried to pull his mind from the depths of his insecurities.

“Zuko, love.” Her voice is soft, but intense. “Just go down there. I won’t lie, they might not take you right away. You have done a lot of damage to them and their goals.”

His warm hands slide down the tops of her forearms and slide between her chilled fingers, entwining them together as Zuko grips her like she’s holding him down on the land they’re on.

“I… I just…” He struggles to get his feelings out, finding it hard to convey how he feels even to the girl wrapped around him.

She shushes him. “I know.” Is all she says, as they stand there in a momentary comfortable silence before she detaches from him to continue dinner.

____________________________

Zuko had told her to stay behind, that he’d be back to either get her or because he failed to convince the group that he came to support them, instead of harm them.

“Zuko! I could easily be an alibi for you. A reason for them to trust you!”

“No. End of story. They could attack me and you’re in Fire Nation clothes. You’re staying here.”

A staring match between the two only lasted a few seconds, but (Y/N) let it go; remembering Iroh’s advice that sometimes the boy has to do what eases his mind to grow.

The empty pot gleamed an orange glow from the flames, a light in the dark woods that surrounded the two as they lounged by the fire.

(Y/N) was carding her fingers through the upset prince’s hair while he stared at the sky; confused. His emotions spilling onto (Y/N). He didn’t talk much about the encounter, only enough to tell her that they wouldn’t be helping the Avatar defeat his father anytime soon. Rather than pressure him, she offered her solace with calming actions rather than words.

The two had met in their early childhood, (Y/N)’s father being the leader of the Yuyan Archers and of course the Fire Lord wanted the talented girl to meet his… troubled son. In hope that she could help bend his son into the ruthless leader the nations needed to proceed him. Though they didn’t see each other as much as they should have due to (Y/N)’s schooling, the two quickly became close friends and were often found with Lady Ursa quietly running around the palace grounds.

His banishment led to (Y/N) perfecting her skills, and becoming the master she was destined to be, given there was no more distraction. No one could understand her in the way that Zuko did— they fit together like they were made for one another. Where he was hotheaded, she was cool; Where he was nimble and direct, she was resourceful and hidden. The two were the perfect set of opposites who ultimately balanced each other. And one without the other was a heartbreak everyone could see.

When she heard the news of his return, she rushed to the palace; radiant as ever. In an instant, the two fell back into where they left off; barely any words needed between the two. Her fingers and lips had trailed over his scar often in those few days, brushing away the tears and insecurities that came with it.

Leaving the Fire Nation with Zuko wasn’t even a debate in her mind. She was tired of the life of lies and torment that her nation inflicted upon the world. She had spent the last two years relocating and rebranding people who were targets to the Fire Nation. In total, about one hundred innocent lives were saved from her dangerous missions. Her skill level was better than even her father’s, and she prided herself in her abilities. (Y/N) was truly a professional in her art with the eye of an eagle.

When she caught Zuko writing a letter to her with packed bags on his bed, she instantly went into the shadows and caught up with the boy easily, hiding in the balloon behind the engine for a while until it was too late for him to turn back. It was hot and the most uncomfortable thing she has ever done, but she regrets none of it. She joked with the boy; how did he not question a pile of fabric behind the piece of equipment that holds fire? She let it go after he hugged her close and cried for a while.

“Don’t do that shit again, Zuko.” Her voice was stern, though her voice stern, she held him close. She ghosted her fingers over his tense shoulders; the shoulder that carried such burdens. She pressed her fingers into his shoulders; trying her best to rub the tension from his body.

“I won’t. Never again. Don’t leave me, I need you.”

A rustle of leaves and broken trees in the forest near the edge of their little camp put the two into defense, instantly gripping her perfectly crafted bow and quiver. Her ears pricked at a slight movement and she aimed her bows in the direction of the noise without even looking. Suddenly, green clothes fill the area as a younger girl makes her way into the clearing. Startled, Zuko sends a wave of fire towards the intruder, burning the girl.

Everything happened fast.

(Y/N)’s left foot—her plant foot—sunk into the ground and twisted inward, releasing a loud crack into the air. The Earth girl was long gone now; Zuko had been screaming at himself when he heard the cry of pain and the sickening noise that left the lips of his girlfriend.

The earth has released its hold on her, but the damage was done. She kneeled, trying to hold back tears but failing as they kept streaming down her face in a pain response. Zuko’s own eyes filled with tears as he ran over to her, helping her sit down and take the tension off of it.

The joint was already beginning to swell, black and blue and purple and yellow starting to show up in swirls around the area. Zuko carefully tried to feel the injury, barely touching the girl in fear of hurting her more. (Y/N) sighed, pushing his fingers away and ignoring his protest. She rotated her foot outward, cringing at the pain, but crying out when she turned it the other way. Zuko cupped his hands around her ankle, hands heated slightly to hopefully alleviate the pain.

“Baby… it’s okay—”

“No, you’re hurt! I knew this would happen!” He cuts her off with a panicked yell. (Y/N) places her hands on the sides of his face, forcing his eyes upon hers with a slight wince of discomfort.

“It’s most definitely, at worst, a fracture. I can still move it outwards without a lot of pain. It’s, like, a week off my foot at most and then another week with a splint and a crutch. I am okay, Zuko.” They stared at each other for a solid minute, saying nothing.

"Promise?" Zuko whispered.

"You think I would lie to you, Zuko?" She says as she wraps her pinky his for good measure

They turn in not too long after, (Y/N)’s ankle wrapped up in some extra clothes for stability. Zuko’s arms hold her to his chest as they slip off into the world of dreams.

_________________________

Oh shit. She thought from her perch on top of the cliff edge. The assassin that they have also been trying to find has been blowing up the place, really testing the stability of the edge of the cliff in shakes after shakes like an earthquake. Zuko had told her to stay at camp, but unfortunately for Zuko; (Y/N) was never that good at listening to commands.

She was sitting down, watching the Avatar, his friends, and her boyfriend try to figure out how to win this fight against the combustion bender, feet dangling over the edge. She didn’t want any pressure on her foot from standing on it; settling for the dull throbs of pain coming from the force of gravity alone.

Some third eye. (Y/N) thought to herself as she watched her boyfriend get too close to being blown off the edge of the cliff, wincing. She quickly strung her bow, aiming it at the man. She smirked, a devious smirk, and aimed it in a precise location.

Zuko was still trying to talk the man out of it when suddenly, his eyes went blank and the grossest sound he has ever heard reached his ears. Everyone watched the man, confused as to why he just stopped. It’s not until red trails down his forehead and around his nose in a slow trickle that they look at his eye.

In the middle of the red eye, that at one point seemed indestructible; an arrow sat; a perfect shot — his perfect shot. "Bullseye!" (Y/N) howled, her voice resonating in his ears.

In the midst of Zuko's panic, he failed to recognize the cliff he was standing on becoming increasingly unsturdy; turning he locked eyes with the archer. A ghost of a smile graced her lips, pride radiating off of her. Though he was angry, he couldn't help but share her pride. He locked eyes with his girlfriend who was sitting nonchalantly on the cliff edge above them all, waving nonetheless, when he told her to stay back. It’s then that the earth beneath him rumbles and falls, taking him with it.

“Zuko!” She screams, jumping to her feet; a loud crack coming from her ankle, buckling under the pressure and bringing her to her knees.

With a hobble in her step, (Y/N) climbed down the cliffside. The tears ran down her face at a ferocious pace, making her way over to the cliffside, a loud sob relented from her mouth as she saw Aang helping Zuko up over the edge of the cliff.

"Spirits, Zuko!" She breathed, limping her way over to him and hugging him tight. "I should kill you, you fucking idiot!" She sobbed, pulling him into her chest.

Zuko huffed out a laugh, wrapping his arms around her. He took deep breaths, calming his nerves from his near death experience; he focused on the feeling of her hand carding through his hair to grip it tight, and the hold on his shoulders. As he calms down, he remembers that he told her to stay put; and he sharply pulls away.

"I told you to stay at camp!" He huffed, "I told you I was coming back for you!”

She scoffs pushing on his forehead with two fingers. “In case you have forgotten, Zuko, I have authority issues. If I weren’t here, who would be saving your stupid royal ass? No one! You’re welcome, by the way. He wasn’t going to negotiate, Prince Pouty, and you and everyone else here is no good to the world dead.”

“You—You---You could’ve been hurt! (Y/N)! Or worse!” His protest was a whisper, trying to make the scene more private as he’s aware of the crowd around them.

“Zuko, love, I can handle myself. I’m a master at my craft--.”

"—your craft of carelessness, you could've been killed—"

"—but I wasn't Zuko!"

"That's not the point." His voice stern, making it clear that the conversation was done for now. (Y/N) simply nodded, pulling away from him and fixing her clothes.

Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka watched the two as they argued; watching as they continuously tried to out-care the other. They watched as the two eventually stopped arguing, instead remained staring, as if daring each other to speak

“That was a ... nice shot? I guess?" Aang spoke, clearing his throat and drawing the couples attention to him. "He's definitely you know, dead."

(Y/N) smiles at the boy. “Thank you, Avatar, for helping save this dumb ass from falling off a cliff.” She gets up and bows to him. Zuko suddenly picks her up, the world turning sideways as he put her bridal style in his arms.

“Stop putting weight on your ankle!”

“I’m literally showing respect to the person who just helped you, is that a crime?”

“What if you break your ankle so much that you have to cut it off.”

“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Okay well you were first when deciding to sit on the edge of a cliff with a broken ankle.”

“You’re right! Sitting is dangerous. Next time, I’ll make sure to stand so at least I’ll have a better chance of reacting if the cliff side starts falling from under me. Oh wait, you were standing, and you still fell.”

Zuko sets her down on a broken rock that’s suitable enough for her to sit on. “Will you just shut up already and let me help you.” He reaches for her ankle, but she moves it from his grasp. Their eyes meet again and narrow in competition.

A mess of limbs as the (Y/N) evades the grip of Zuko, occasionally slapping his hands away if they get too close.

Sokka tilts his head in confusion and opens his mouth. “Is he—is he actually caring for someone?”

Aang nods. “I think? I don’t know, they’re kind of fighting a lot.”

Toph cringes, “Guys, I think it was me who hurt her in the first place. Last night at their camp. Zuko instantly stopped trying to help me when I heard her scream.”

“Guys… I think I’m supposed to let him be my master. I mean, he did just risk everything to save us.” Aang says, eyes locked on the one member who he cares more about than anyone.

Katara, still holding off on agreeing, looks to the two Fire Nation kids again.

“Ow! You bit me! Are you crazy?!” Zuko yells, shaking his left hand out.

The stranger girl laughs cheerfully. “Only crazy for you, stupid.”

And a phenomenon occurs. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation blushes and looks down at the ground, a huge smile on his face.

“I hate you.” Is all he says.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

Katara, seeing the humane side of the prince, finally lets her guard down and walks over to them. Zuko’s eyes widen at her proximity, but the water tribe girl holds his gaze.

“I’ll heal the girl if it gets you two to shut up. And you have to find dinner for tonight.”

Katara’s eyes widen again at the sight of the crying prince who suddenly bows to her feet, thanking her with his whole heart. He then turns to his smiling girl beside him and pulls her into a hug.

“Thank you, (Y/N). For everything.”

“I’ll always help you… stupid.”

#zuko #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #avatar zuko #atla x reader #atla #fanfic #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla fanfic #atla x you #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #x reader #enmy-writes atla

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yellowocaballero · 4 years

Text

Human Relations Snippet: Tim teaches Jon the internet and odious goats are sacrificed to the cult of Bezos

There’s no reason for this to exist. I was rereading a bit of HR and I saw a throwaway joke about Jon wanting to buy Martin a Portal Gun. I started wondering about how that would even work. The answer is, obviously, a 200 year old man squinting at a computer screen wondering why there’s so many horny singles in his area. I get possessed by demons easily, so I took three hours out of writing my daemon au and wrote this instead. Bon Appetit.

(Edit, quick clarification: I think that Jon would refuse to use the name for the Beholding that Smirke made up, and although all of this exists in my head and you guys don’t know this, there was a lot of tension between Jon and Jonah’s ‘circle’. So Jon hated Smirke and thought he was a hack. He uses Smirke’s terms to others sometimes for ease of understanding or in deference to Jonah (:/) but I think that mentally he mainly calls the Beholding his own name, The Witness. It rings of that personal and intimate connection Jon and the Beholding has. Anyway, onto the story.)

After one hour in anguished uncertainty, fifty popups that advised Jon of very many ‘hot singles in his area’, six separate sites that Jon’s God had to inform him were covers for thieves that stole money from you, and a very confusing retreat to Jon’s favorite internet page ‘Wikipedia’ as to what an Amazon was, Jon had given up.

Normally this was where he asked one of his personal assistants for help. Normally, he wouldn’t even be trying, and he would have just told one of them to do it. This was how Jon had cunningly mostly avoided using computers for the past twenty years. Some endeavors were unavoidable, and Jon was proud to say that he mastered email in 2010. Or was it 2008? He liked to think it was 2006, but it was possible...never mind. If it was important, the Witness would tell him.

Peter Lukas was right on almost nothing, Jon thought disgruntledly as he slammed his laptop shut - including in his taste of men, company, philosophies, men, patron deities, professions, and men - but he was right in his proclamation that the internet was the degradation of society. Not that he hadn’t sacrificed his morality and sold out, feeding his patron through something called “incel forums” and “Reddit”. Between him, Jonah’s “Excel spreadsheets” and “TurboTax”, and Annabelle Cane’s ridiculous “MMO guilds”, the Society was filling with computer geeks. Jon could always read the wind: he had to keep up, and quickly.

Besides, Martin had kindly educated him on how it was almost unheard of for a young man like Jon to not understand how to work that Goggle thing. Giggle? Martin was very streetwise and was one of the most insightful people Jon had ever known, he was definitely right.

Which is why he had to buy him this “Portal Gun” that he wanted. He had even shown Jon the website! And if Jon was in desperate times trying to navigate these confusing webpages entirely with URLs he memorized, then he would take desperate measures!

“I’m going down to the Archives,” Jon said, slithering off the couch and clutching his laptop to chest. Jonah had bought it for him. He appeared surprised that Jon was using it. “I may not be back for a while. I need...a book.”

Jonah didn’t look away from his own infernal machine. It seemed he was on that ‘Excel’ program again. Was it one of those ‘video games’ he kept hearing about? “Do I want to know what you were doing on that laptop.”

“Reading Wikipedia,” Jon said immediately, and somewhat defensively. Jon had discovered Wikipedia in 2001 before promptly funding it and throwing his weight behind its development. He had spent a solid five years convinced a computer was a kind of electronic screen that let you read digital Encyclopedia pages, like in Star Trek. He’d seen Star Trek. Georgie made him. “Did you know that -”

“Yes, yes, have fun. Haven’t you read that entire site already?”

“Not even,” Jon said defensively. “I can’t just sit and read through entire Encyclopedias anymore, Jonah. We know more things now.”

“What a way to describe the last two hundred years,” Jonah said, not even looking away from his computer. “We know more things. Never change, Jon.”

“You’re the one who never changes,” Jon grumbled. But it was a weak comeback, and considering his brand new delightfully short stature somewhat untrue, so Jon breezed out of Jonah’s office with full knowledge that he’d think of a better comeback halfway down the steps to the Archives.

In fact, it wasn’t until he was at the door, and by then he felt stupid for losing a point against Jonah anyway. He easily opened the door, stepping inside and quickly bee-lining for Sasha’s office. Her burgeoning powers were wonderfully flowing in the shape of access to and understanding of technology. He had never seen such gratuitous breeches of privacy as she casually committed. Every day Jon was validated in his decision to save her from the Stranger. A balance, an equal yet opposite Archivist from Jon, would be invaluable. Not that Jonah and Jon weren’t their own yin and yang, but Jonah’s powers were paltry and out-of-date. Mind reading and spying through iconography was so 1960. They needed fresh blood.

Sasha had been a wonderful choice, and Jon didn’t regret choosing her to act as saviour. Most of the time. Some of the time she -

“She’s not in.”

Jon’s fist halted in front of the door, about to sharply rap on her office door. He turned around to actually look through the bullpen, only to see that Timothy was sitting in his chair chewing a sandwich. Somehow angrily. Definitely suspiciously.

“Are you sure?” Jon asked dubiously. “Because you’ve lied about this before.”

“Because you should stop coming down here and bothering her.” Timothy balled the saran wrap in his hand and dunked it in the trash can, somehow undoubtedly giving the impression that he wished it was Jon’s head. “Just bugger off.”

Someone was in a snit. Normally Timothy wasn’t this hostile. Jon had thought that learning his name might make him less mean, but it did little to help. But when Jon looked around he didn’t see Martin, and a quick check assured him that both Sasha and Martin were having lunch at their favorite deli and engaging in that plotting hobby they both enjoyed. Timothy had elected to stay behind, stewing in his own angry and paranoid juices.

He would have to do this with Martin out of the Archives...and he really wanted to take care of this now so Martin would get it before the weekend...and it wasn’t as if Jon was scared of this boy he was one hundred and seventy years older than…

“Uh,” Jon said intelligently, “can you help me with...something…”

Timothy’s face twisted in a novel combination of surprise and disgust. “What,” he sneered, “your evil fear god or whatever can’t figure it out for you?”

“I don’t need others to think for me,” Jon said stiffly. It was something he’d had to say far too many times. “The Witness is less helpful with...troubleshooting...look, do you know how to work a computer?”

Timothy stared at him blankly. “Like, at all?”

“I’m trying to buy Martin this toy he desires,” Jon said desperately. Fuck it all, he walked over and sat down in the chair next to Tim’s desk. He pulled a little bit closer, placing his laptop on Tim’s desk, and ignored the way the other man leaned away. “But whenever I try I keep on seeing alerts about hot singles. I’m not interested in young women, I just need to buy a ‘Portal Gun’. Do you know what a Portal Gun is?”

Timothy continued staring at him, eyebrows raised. Clearly involuntarily, so quick that he may not even have noticed, one corner of his lips was ticking upwards into a smile.

“How many credit card scams have you fallen for?”

“Absolutely none,” Jon said, very quickly. He pulled out his credit card, placing it on the table. He knew a credit card was involved, although he didn’t know how. “What do I do? Do I swipe it? Is there a port?” He picked up the laptop and squinted at its sides, looking for a port. “I wanted to ask Sasha for help, since she’s the expert in hacking, but surely you know the basics?”

“I mean...I can’t, like, code, but yeah, I can work Amazon.” Timothy carefully opened the laptop, watching the display light up. He effortlessly navigated to an icon on the screen, clicking it open.

“That’s not right,” Jon said urgently. “You’re supposed to press the E.”

“I do not want to know how many toolbars you have,” Timothy said bluntly. “We’re using Chrome. That’s another way to look at the Internet.” He rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, I got a grandmother, we can do this.”

Jon perked up. “So you’ll help?”

Went unsaid: even though you hate me?

“Whatever,” Timothy grumbled. Jon decided not to press his luck.

Jon decided that he liked the Chrome better than the Internet Explorer, because it was simpler and Google was on the first page. Tim rapidly typed on ‘Amazon.com’ into the search bar and easily scrolled through the very busy and picture filled page that immediately popped up. Why was everything so fast? Maybe this was why the young people had no attention span: these pages just came up immediately. No flipping for indices for finding anything in phone books.

“Right. What was it, a Portal Gun? Like from the game?”

“A board game?”

“Video game.”

“Like on a VHS…?”

“Right.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, Sasha said that you’re one of the most famous sociologists and anthropologists in British history.”

“I am extremely intelligent, Timothy, and I won’t abide any insinuation otherwise,” Jon said curtly. “I cannot be expected to keep constant track every time there’s another - iPhone or whatever. You have teenagers in your family, correct? Do you always know what they’re talking about? That’s, what, a twenty year age gap? Multiply that by ten.”

That shut him up. Timothy sighed again, much more aggressively, but he clicked the white bar and typed in ‘portal gun’ anyway. “Right. Not fucking apologizing, but right. I still don’t fucking know what ‘Twitch’ is.”

“It’s a brief spasmodic contraction of the muscle fibers,” Jon said helpfully. “Fascinatingly, this phenomenon was first observed in frog’s legs before I was even born in 1780, by Luigi Galvani. Erudite man, by the way, but he couldn’t hold his liquor. It was the birth of the study of bioelectricity, although the exact mechanism of muscle contraction eluded scientists for years.”

“Never mind.” Timothy sighed again, the perfect mix of aggravated and long-suffering. It seemed to be the man’s two favorite emotions. “My grandmother has a PhD and she still can’t figure out her cell, either. We had to get her a Jitterbug.”

Amazon, as Timothy explained, was a kind of shopping mall, except you could pick out what you wanted by its picture and have the shopping mall pack it up and send it to you. Jon didn’t quite understand why people preferred this to just going to a shop yourself, seeing as you could get it immediately instead of with a three or four day turnaround, but Tim explained that Amazon was cheaper, had a wider selection, and didn’t make you get off the couch.

“Oh,” Jon said, finally getting it, “this follows the economic model of large scale businesses underpricing their products to undercut smaller businesses in the area, driving them out of business until they hold monopoly over the market and can raise their prices without worrying about staying competitive.”

Timothy stared at him.

“I mean,” he said, “I guess?”

“This explains why my Alexa project was successful so quickly,” Jon mused. “With a lack of competition or alternatives, consumers are more likely to accept the dramatic invasions of privacy as normal. Normalizing intrusions into privacy took ages, but my early efforts paid off very well. The Ring doorbell was even better, along with the line of security and home protection systems. We’re now working on live streamed 24/7 surveillance to social media platforms.”

Timothy stared at him further.

Finally, he said, “Alexa was...you?”

“Of course,” Jon said, baffled. Who else would it be? “I gave Jeff the idea and convinced him it would be profitable. I didn’t understand the whole mechanics of it, but once I gave Jeff a vision from the Witness he was eager to implement the divinely inspired spyware.”

Timothy continued to stare.

“The evil fear god controls Jeff Bezos.”

“He thinks I’m a prophet, actually,” Jon said helpfully. “I let him become Cardinal of the imaginary cult in exchange for funding some of my more esoteric programs. Had him sacrifice a goat and everything, it was great.” At Timothy’s alarmed look, Jon was quick to elaborate, “It was the most evil goat you’ve met in your life. Morally odious.”

“...for my sanity I’m going to pretend that you said none of that.”

In retrospect, although Timothy had worked at the Institute for a few years, it did take quite a bit of time to acclimate to the fact that the Avatars permanently shaped the shape of human existence in order to better feed their gods. Jon knew better than anyone: when humanity made gods, and gods made man, and man made gods...the feedback loop could self-perpetuate for years. Eternity, if needed.

But they had no luck on ‘Amazon’. With Jon’s eidetic memory he was able to easily pick out the one that looked most similar to the one that Martin had showed him, but all of the little toy guns were for someone named ‘Rick’. Then Timothy took twenty laborious minutes explaining the entire plot of ‘Rick & Morty’ to him, which Jon patiently sat through.

“I think young people today deeply enjoy explaining media,” Jon said, once Timothy finished telling him the funny jokes. “I’m very interested in your interests, Timothy.”

“You are so fucking condescending. And please call me Tim, you’re sounding even more like my grandmother.” When Jon brightened, Tim - Tim! - quickly said, “This does not mean we are friends.”

Granted, Jon had never once in his life gave a shit about making friends, but he felt as if he should be making more of an effort with Tim. He was a sort of supernatural brother in law, wasn’t he? Although Sasha perhaps Sasha was more of a favored niece. At least, he would be, if today’s generation found some morality and stopped living in sin.

Good lord. Now he was sounding like Jonah. Georgie used to joke that he was born in the wrong generation - he should have been born a 17th century Puritan instead. Jon found it a very funny joke. Jonah did not.

“Are there any other shopping websites?” Jon asked finally, after Amazon failed them. He’d have to call up Jeff later and complain. “Or is this the only one?”

Tim sighed. “Let’s check Google.”

Quickly and efficiently, yet with many lightning fast detours, Tim found another site called ‘eBay’ - pronounced ‘e-Bay’, not ‘ehbay’ - that listed off exactly what they needed. They weren’t under the toy section, instead listed as something called ‘cosplay’, but Tim seemed highly resistant to explaining that one, so he dropped it.

They picked a likely looking white toy gun that looked the most similar to the one that Martin had liked and Tim talked Jon through punching in the numbers on his card into the website and sorting through the billing and shipping information. Tim helpfully took down the numbers on his card to file later.

“And...done!” Tim said, pressing a button and leaning back. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It was ten times as complicated as I thought it would be,” Jon assured him, “but also much more fun. What else can you buy online?”

“Oh, god. What can’t you buy.”

Jon brightened. “Can you buy books?”

“Old Gertrude used to buy Leitners on eBay,” Tim said dully, “so yeah, sure, why not.”

Jon stared at his computer. He carefully navigated the mouse to the big red x and clicked out of the internet browser. “That’s enough of eBay, then, I think.”

Guess he would have to stick to buying Leitners in person. It was no good buying fucked up books from sketchy sources. Always stick to people you trusted, or at least trusted to be themselves. Mikaele was Jon’s favorite supplier since the kid Leitner disappeared, and they had a pleasant working relationship. Mikaele shared his grandfather’s stories about the history and culture of the Maori, and Jon told him which of his haunted artifacts would be the most helpful in the imminent apocalypse.

“Well,” Tim said finally, gently pushing Jon’s laptop away, “that was...something, great bonding session with my local supervillain, please run back to Elias and bother him instead.”

“You were very helpful, Mr. Stoker,” Jon said, as professionally yet paternally as possible. Tim was six years older than his body, so he’s not sure how it came off, but the touch of grey at his temples helped with the dignified air. “And as soon as you start acting like a man and propose to my Archivist, you’ll make an excellent brother in law -”

“Uh, excuse me?”

Jon spun around in his chair to see Sasha and Martin standing at the door, holding doggy bags and looking somewhat flummoxed. Probably confused at the sight of him and Tim having a civil conversation, which admittedly had never happened before. Possibly also confused at how completely mortified Tim looked.

“Who said anything about proposing?” Sasha asked incredulously. “Tim, are you -”

“No! No, god no!” Tim stood up quickly, holding his hands out as if he was placating a raging bull. “Nobody’s been saying anything - I would never do that to you -”

“Oh,” Sasha said frostily, crossing her arms and letting the bags swing, “would you.”

That was a domestic Jon should stay out of, even though he definitely caused it. He and Martin sidled away in tandem, huddling near the back of the Archives as Tim frantically pled for his life.

Sneakily, Jon glanced at Martin out of the corner of his eye. He looked happy. Happy, and just as stressed as he always looked - Jon had never known Martin when he wasn’t constantly stressed out, and he was more than aware that it was his fault.

He looked good, too. Really nice, broad jawline that gave his face a friendly round shape. Just friendly and round in general, it was really handsome. His hair was as nicely short and ruffles as ever. The big glasses were super stylish, and really framed his face well. Really big, broad hands. Jon, who had always been so poky and tall and thin and gaunt, like some kind of haunted scarecrow that lurked through the corners of time, was envious. He wanted some of that softness and gentleness. Really, he wanted some of Martin’s -

“So what were you and Tim doing?” Martin asked. “I didn’t know you knew he existed.”

“You told me his name,” Jon said anxiously. “I don’t forget the things you tell me, you know.”

Martin smiled shyly and him, and Jon found himself smiling back. “It’s pretty good for my ego to hear that I have something to teach the immortal genius.”

“I don’t know,” Jon said, as Sasha yelled in the background, “I’ve been learning a lot lately.”

“Really?” Martin teased. “Anything interesting?”

“Oh,” Jon said, watching the yellow fluorescent light cast Martin’s dim smile in soft relief, “I can think of a few things.”

#my writing #jonathan sims #tim stoker #archivist!sasha #martin blackwood #sasha james #mild homosexual activity and massive old man activity inbound #tma #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #the magnus archives fanfic #im posting this at an awkward time so prep for a lot of self rbs

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humanityinahandbag · 4 years

Text

you’re not my dad; a drabble

@thebigpalooka decided to torture me with her sad idea, so I wrote it down in the form of half of a short story. This is what happens when two people enable one another with angst!

Just a very short, very rushed interpretation. I didn’t edit or anything. I just jotted this down in ten minutes and released it to the world. Enjoy the craziness!

The house was Silent.

It was an oddity now, that the house was silent. The four walls had become a place for a wildly improvised orchestra of shouts and jeers and laughs and coos and hollers and quiet, muffled admissions.

But it stands silent, except for the echo-

(you’re not)

- which stuck around stubbornly, churning through every room, bruising the walls.

Tom sat in the Silence, holding a cup of gone-cold coffee and letting the hurt reverberate around him.

“Tom…” Maddie met him in the kitchen, putting down the paperwork she’d been filling out for Monday morning, leaning over him and tucking her chin against the crook of his neck. “You’ve got to talk to him.”

“I need a minute.”

“This isn’t about you.” The comment cuts, but Maddie’s voice is velvet and chamomile, and the two clash in a way that he’s not sure how to handle, and he winces down at his coffee. Her hand smoothes down the back of his neck. “HoneyYou’re the adult - go talk to him.”

“You heard what he said.”

“Then we’re definitely not hearing the same things,” his wife said, winding her arms around his torso. The weight of her chest against his back was steady. “Because all I heard was a thirteen year old who sounds really, really lost.”

Tom sighed, twisting the mug around in his hands. “How’d you get so good at this?” he muttered. Her smile was an oasis, and she leaned over to kiss his jaw.

“You haven’t seen my bad days with him yet, that’s all. Buy a ticket when he decides to fight me on curfew.”

Tom laughed. It hurt, but he laughed, standing up from his chair and pushing the cold coffee away. “Why is this so hard?”

“Because,” said his wife, “it’s worth it. Easy be damned.”

“Again. How’d you get so good at this?”

She rolled her eyes, smoothing out the wrinkles around his brow with her thumb. “You ready to have a hard talk?”

He nodded. “Time to be the adult?”

“Time to be the adult,” she agreed. “Go get him, Donut Dad.” She picked up her paperwork again. “I’ll be in your corner when you ring the bell.” Her head tilted, hair flicking behind her shoulder, as she shifted to look towards the back door. “Last I saw him, he went into the garage.”

It was a neutral territory.

They’d met in the garage in the back of his house, surrounded by all his old gardening equipment and the water guns he kept for whenever Jojo stayed over. Sonic had gone because Tom was the only human he’d known. Close enough to the house to feel like he was there; far enough away where the space he’d cultivated would remain untouched.

Tom hated the Space.

It took him a moment to see the hedgehog when he ducked in around the door, blinking in the dim light of the garage.

He was sitting against a wall of empty planters, staring down at his shoes. His knees were up, and his arms were around them. He didn’t look up. Not when Tom came in. Not when the door slowly closed on its own behind. And not when Tom was in front of him, carefully lowering himself to sit cross legged in front of Sonic.

“Hey there, bud.”

Sonic stared down at his shoes. His arms wrapped tighter around his knees.

"So," Tom would begin, sitting on the floor across from Sonic, who was pressing his forehead against his knees, looking everywhere but at Tom. "For a first fight, that was pretty rough, huh?"

Sonic turned his head to press his eyes against his knees.

Tom scooched closer, ducking his head to try to catch a glimpse of those green eyes that Sonic was doing his best to hide away. "Sonic-"

Nothing.

“Sonic, talk to me.”

Tom counted it as something when Sonic sniffled, twisting his head enough to be able to say, “it was nothing. Can we forget about it?”

“’Fraid not.” There was another long silence. Tom moved closer. "Sonic..."

"Please..." Sonic said, the word leaving like more of a deflation than anything else. Like the last dregs of himself had been left behind in that word. “Please can we just… can we just forget about it. It was… it was stupid and dumb and I shouldn’t have said- but- but can we just- can we just please-”

“We can’t leave something like that be, buddy.”

Sonic’s fists twisted against his knees and he turned his head back so his eyes were pressed into his legs.

The garage fell into a heavy silence. They could hear cars outside; birds and cicadas just coming back for the season. The light from the garage was milky through the dirty windows, and it lit up the space they sat in a gold glow. Tom waited in that. Waited for anything. Waited, because Maddie had been right, and he wanted to fix this. However he could, whatever he’d done wrong, he wanted to-

...

The words were so quiet that Tom barely caught them. A whisper in the thrum of the early evening. But whatever they had been, they held weight.

“Hey.” Tom reached out his his foot, knocking his shoe against the smaller, red one. “What was that?”

Sonic’s eyes, hidden since he’d first arrived, peeked out from where they’d been hidden against his knees. They were red. “Don’t…” he choked, “don’t make me go.”

“Oh…”

It was all Tom could think to say, and he could have kicked himself.

Never, he wanted to scream.

How could you think, he wanted to yell.

What made you even believe we, he wanted to wail.

But instead; “oh…”

Sonic’s eyes brimmed with new tears. Tom’s heart split against his ribs. He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

“Sonic…” he said, trying to find the words to say. But whatever he chose in that moment, they’d be a bandaid across a canyon. And he couldn’t.

Right here, in this garage, he couldn’t.

It’s not about you, Maddie had said. And yeah. She was a wise woman. He could sit here on the floor and fix it all with a hug and a few words and an easy smile. Or he could be a father and stand in front of the monster growing between them.

He reached out his hand. Sonic looked at it with wide, watering eyes. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go inside. Maddie’s worried about you. And…” The words he never wanted to say pulled back and back and back into his chest, doing their best to skirt away. He grabbed them. Pulled them out.

Easy be damned.

“We need to have a talk.”

The fight had come out of nowhere. Or maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it had been stewing for days, and Tom, in all his glorious attempts at keeping a happy household, had shoved it down and down and down and ignored it.

Actually. Yeah. That’s 100% what happened.

Because it had been stewing.

And Tom had been looking the other way in lieu of walks and baseball practice and anything remotely distracting.

And then Sonic had gone out. Left for too long. Came back late to adults on the front porch, angry and worried and afraid.

The fight hadn’t been on its own. It had been accompanied by weeks worth of anxieties hanging behind and clutching tight by their nails. Monsters, who had gleefully waited until the right moment until they could rear up in a grand crescendo when Sonic had yelled back (all fire and salt and ire);

“You’re not my dad!”

And then there’d been silence.

In the garage, Sonic took Tom’s hand and let himself be lifted up. He stared at the floor, at the grass outside when they’d left, at the stairs.

He’d stared at Maddie’s feet when she’d come up to him and ran her hand through the fur on his head. And he’d slowly retreated up the steps when she’d said; “we’ll be up to meet you in a second.”

Tom and Maddie had stood alone then in the kitchen, facing one another.

The Monsters that still hung around watched intently.

“Let’s go be adults,” said Maddie.

“Yeah,” said Tom, telling the Monsters and all their anxieties to shove it. “Let’s go be adults.”

Feel free to add how it ends! In the midst of writing curriculum, I may never write a p2 to this! But I hope to at least jot it down!

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic 2020 #sonic wachowski #IT'LL END WELL I SWEAR

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elles-writing · 4 years

Text

The Sounds of Home - Kili x reader

Kili x reader

Requested: Yes, by @terri205

Request: Hello there - I read one of your previous posts about taking requests so here i am asking for a drabble or oneshot with some domestic life / husband x wife with children with Kili even though his character died I really cannot get over him. Hope you are still writing for him . ( dwarf x human if that helps .. also can the height difference be erased for now ? Yk Aidan is a tall boy 😁🙃 ) wish you having a great day!

Word count: around 3k

A/N: Of course!! I write a lot for Kili, because I feel like there’s not a lot of fanfics for him, that people actually think more of Fili and Thorin, but hey, this little cute pup needs love too! (Just like Lindir. He’s also adorable.) And I’ve red somewhere on Pinterest that Thorin is actually tall 5′2 ft, which is like only solid 2 inches smaller than me (okay, I’m barely 5′4 ft)!! And Kili’s only a bit smaller than Thorin!! I’ll look for that picture and if I find it, i’ll put it here.

A/N II: I feel like my writting sucks at most of this one, I’m so sorry! I wanted it to be much, much better, but I just somehow don’t really know how to rewrite it, so I’m posting it anyways. I want to write something similar in the future, so I’ll tag you to it.

A/N III: I wrote some extra part and edited it, so now I can say I’m quite happy with it!

Tw: pregnancy, mentions of sex

Okay, so here it is. I found it on pinterest, but it’s from tumblr @richardarmitagequotes . Here is the link to it.

Playlist you don’t have to listen, but I was writting during listening to these songs: Taylor Swift - cartigan, Taylor Swift - exile, The Chainsmokers - Paris, Porcelain Black - One Woman Army, Taylor Swift - august,

It was such a long time ago when did this happened...

This was how you started your children’s bedtime story, which was their favourite - it was the story of how did their parents - you and Kili - have met and long adventure that was avaiting behind them to reclaim Erebor. About you, a young human girl, who was curious and wanted to see the world, and him, young dwarf prince, who wanted to help to reclaim his home again. And surely wasn’t counting on finding love, but yet you were here - Kili, you and your children - living in a cottage a bit aside from Erebor and Dale.

It was a sunny day, you and your children working at the garden. You were in the middle of placing tomatoes to your handbasket, when a loud scream came to your ears. You looked up and sighed at the sight of your son scaring your daughter with earthworm on a stick, which was moving around.

“Vili, stop scaring Ainiel with that earthworm. Go back to taking out the carrots out, alright? And let Ainiel to pick the berries.” Your son shook his head and went back to taking out the carrots, putting the earthworm to his hand and mumbling something to it before putting it back to the hole, where was one big carrot before.

You looked at him by the corner of your eye. He has the same hair as his father, face features, very similar personality, the only thing was his eyes - they were brown with slight e/c in them. Your daughter has gotten her father’s hair texture, face shape and a bit of his joking personality, but from you she’ve gotten her bookworm-self, able to read all day, and thinking carefully about things. Otherwise, she would be your dupe.

You looked over to your youngest child - your second daughter, who was sitting in the grass and creating a flower tiara from daisies. When she was done, she jumped up and with squealing runned to her sister and putted the tiara on her head. She let out a bubbly laugh, as toddlers do, and runned to you.

“Mama, Ainiel is a princess! I am a princess! Mama is a princess!” And placed flowery tiara she finished earlier in your hair. You smiled and she sat down to you, looking up to sky.

“Is there going to be a storm?” You looked up and noticed the dark clouds, quickly approaching. You took your youngest daughter to your arms, your basket hanging from your forearm.

“Vili, take the carrots, Ainiel, take the basket with berries, Lila...” you looked in the toddler’s eyes.

“Hold your tiara, dearie.” You looked over the garden and noticed movement on the other side of the garden on your backyard. Then someting let out a ‘meow’.

It’s probably just some cat, you thought when a typical little furry tale glimpsed through the grass. It wasn’t unusual for cats to be wondering around your house, since in a Dale many people were having cats as pets.

When you were inside, a hard rain started. You sighed out, placed Lila and the basket with tomatoes down in the kitchen, and went over to fireplace to start a fire.

Once the room was filled with warm light and sound of cracking wood, your children started with washing and clearing the vegetables. Vili and Ainiel only, because Lila was sitting on the chair cuddled in blanket. She was afraid of thunders and storms, and even though there was no thunder, there was sometimes a lightning across the sky and she squealed and jumped up.

You made a luke-warm tea for Lila and while she was sipping it, you were cutting the vegetables and meat and cooking stew.

Once the meal was done, you looked out through the window. It was raining really hard still, so you decided to take your children and cuddle behind the fireplace with tea and either read to them or tell them some story.

Once you and your children sat down, blankets were all over the place and Vili and Lila fighting over one of them.

“Lila, give it to me, you have it all the time!”

“No, I want it! Give it to me!” Vili teared out the blanket from her hands and she squealed when she fell down. She started sobbing and then vailing. Vili’s eyebrows furrowed and he kneeled down to her.

“I’m so sorry, Lila, I didn’t wanted to hurt you! Look, you can take the bla-” She teared the blanket from his hands and stick out her tongue on him. He was surprised and inhaled, but Lila jumped on him and started beating his chest by her little fists.

“I’m as strong as you!” Vili squealed when she took his hair and started to pulling them. You quickly took her off of him, careful not to pull his hair more, but a few of them stayed in your daughter’s grasp.

“You’re getting way too energetic, young lady. What’s all this about?” You sat down and she was sitting in your lap.

“He wanted to take my blanket and I fell down.” She didn’t dared to look up at you.

“It’s because the two men in Dale two weeks ago were doing this?” She mumbled a response and you shook your head.

“Lila, that’s not how you are supposed to solve problems. First, you need to talk about it. Don’t be that-” then a loud thunder and sharp lightning scrossed the sky and Lila squeaked.

“M-momma, I’m so afraid!” She nuzzled to your chest and you wrapped a blanket around the two of you. Vili and Ainiel sat next to you, wrapped in blankets.

“Will you tell us the story, momma?” Ainiel asked you, breaking the silence. A slight smile stretched your lips.

“You already know that one backwards.”

“That’s not true, I cannot say it backwards!” Vili protested and Ainiel shook her head.

“That means we already know it really well, you dumb dwarf.” Lila let out a laugh.

“Will you tell us the part with Master Baggin’s home? The beginning?” Vili made a pleading puppy look, that he surely got from his father, and you sighed.

“Okay.”

“And that one when you confessed your love?” Ainiel asked. You smiled and nodded.

“I will. So, I came here with Balin, and I didn’t wanted to be rude, because, as you know, hobbits are peaceful beings and they don’t like when someone is rude, so I just sat aside. Then, there was another knock on the door, and I told him I will open. I opened the door, and there were two young dwarves, one with blonde hair and blue eyes and the other one with dark hair and brown eyes. Me and the younger one froze in spot and the whole Shire must’ve hear us, because we both screamed: ‘YOU?!’. It was that dwarf I saved from two orcs and kicked his butt before, calling him very...spicy names for doing such a stupid thing.”

“How did you called him?” Vili pleated. You’ve never told them, that first words adressed from you to their father were ‘What were you thinking, you fucking fool?! Two big orcs twice your size?! If I wouldn’t save you, you would be dead by now!’.

It was a few days since you’ve left your home for an adventure, where Gandalf invited you.

You were thankful to the few of dwarves that lived near the village you’ve lived in, whom teached your father how to fight, which he teached you. You could get a few nice hours of sleep at night, because you didn’t have to worry about not being able to defend yourself.

The next day, around a down, settling down your things to prepare for a camp, a loud scream cutted the silence. You looked up. It sounded as if somebody needed a help.

You quickly and as quietly as you could, runned to that spot. You looked through the bushes and noticed somebody - a male - trying to fight with two orcs double size of him. One of them was holding his leg, the other one his arm and he was trying to fight with them, but you assumed they took his weapons, since he had nothing but a dagger. You quickly let out an arrow, which went straight through orc’s head, and he fell dead. You jumped out of your hiding spot and the other one chuckled darkly in black speech. You growled and jumped aside when he was trying to catch you. He tried to stab you with his sword, but you were way too quick. You jumped up at tree stump and stabbed him by your sword in it’s back. The orc fell dead, down to the ground.

You looked over to that male - a dwarf, you thought, because of his ears and he was as tall as you - and he was staring at you with awe in his eyes. Adrenalin was still in you from the fight in your veins and you got angry.

“What were you thinking, you fucking fool?! Two big orcs twice your size?! If I wouldn’t save you, you would be dead by now!” He snapped from his expression and quickly started gathering his weapons.

“I didn’t needed help, you know?! I could-I would be able to win over them!” You snorted in very un-lady like way while taking out your sword and arrow.

“Of course, but before that, you would be their dinner.” You looked over your shoulder and shook your head. No. He has just stupid brown puppy eyes.

“That’s not true!” He got angry, slightely offended. You smirked.

“All right then. You’d be their midnight snack.” You chuckled when noticed his face to redden and looked away to get to your place where you wanted to camp.

You couldn’t stop thinking about that man since then. And your angry behaviour, which you were quite sorry for.

“That’s not appropiate for your ears, children. So, where did I ended? Oh, I know!” Vili and Ainiel shimmed closer to you.

“Then, the blonde one looked at both of us and asked: ‘Where do you know each other from?’. The brown-haired muttered something under his breath and I sighed. ‘I didn’t wanted to be so rude, you know?’ He looked up at me, eyes wide, mouth slightely open and cheeks red. I got into house and...who do you think was that?” You asked your children and Ainiel, the quick thinker, was first one to answer that.

“Uncle Fili and Adad, mommy!” She grinned and you stroke her hair.

“Excellent. Now-” You inhaled to talk again, but Ainiel interrupted you.

“Now the wedding, mommy! How was the wedding? Was it big? Was it beautiful?” Her face lighted up in happiness, that was her favourite part. Vili just snorted.

“Girls. Why the wedding? It’s so boring!” You chuckled.

“One day you will find your own significant other and you won’t be snorting at the mention of weddings, because you will be the eager one to plan it all out.” Said voice behind you. You and your children turned around and found your soaking-wet, but madly-grinning husband. Vili squealed, excited, and while trying to get to him, be tripped over his own legs and blanket and landed at the floor. Lila’s fluttered open and she yawned as she woke up from her slumber, and once she noticed her father, she squealed in joy and tried to get to him, her arms opened for a hug.

“Adad! You’re home!” He picked Vili up from the floor and with a grin on his face, he picked up Lila too and spun them around. The sight of him with your children, his face lighted up with joy and absolute adoration for them was a thing that made you to appreciate every single moment like that you had.

Kili placed his two children to the ground, and even if all three of them were wet now, they didn’t really cared. You stood up.

“Now, I see, you are ready to change in something dry.” Kili looked over to Vili and Lila.

“Who’s going to be the first one changed, gets the most cookies!” Before you could even blink, Vili and Lila were already rushing to their rooms to change, and Kili went to your bedroom to change, too.

Ainiel turned to you.

“What about the wedding, mommy? How was it?” You sat down to her.

“So, at first, it was before the battle of five armies. Me and your father, your uncle, nobody knew if we will survive, so we decided to do it without unnecessary formalities. We just changed vows, gifts, kissed and braided each other’s hair.” And lost our virginities that night.

“After the battle and when Dale and Erebor was rebuilded, we got married with all of the formalities that are necessary in royal family. It was a big and eventful wedding, very loud, too. Something like celebration on Durin’s Day, but three times louder, with more dancing.” She nodded with a serious expression.

* Extra *

After the dinner (and promised cookies, which got Vili and Lila) and when your children went to sleep, you and Kili stayed together in the living room, cuddled under a blanket.

„How was your day, amralime?“ You asked him while making circles inside his palm. Kili softly kissed the top of your head.

„Uneventful and boring, givanshel. Meeting got longer today, and thanks to the storm, I was even more late than I would be. How was today for you, my precious queen?“ You felt his hand lazily making circles over the fabric on your stomach and smiled.

„Just like any other day, my dear husband. Two out of our three children took their personality after you, making every day an adventure,“ He softly chuckled and kissed your temple from the back.

„It all started with one adventure,“ He said in a low voice. You sighed softly.

„Yes, indeed it did. But I saved your butt before that adventure,“ His fingers started to make way to your hips and sides.

„Of course, my dear wife,“ He started tickling you, and you tried to giggle as quietly as possible to not to wake the children. You turned around, so you now faced Kili and sat on his lap. You kissed his nose, then his lips, and he smiled to the kiss. He pulled you closer.

„Mhmm, amralime,“ He whispered when you pulled away for air. You pushed a few strands of his hair out of his face, looking deep to his loving brown eyes

„You should go to sleep. You are tired,“ You said. He raised a brow.

„I can stay awake as long as you’d like me to.“ His eyes got that mischievous spark you knew way too well.

„I may be in love with you, but you cannot fool me, my precious prince.“ You kissed his cheek softly.

„So you want to say you’d turn down an opportunity for making love on the floor, or just right here, right now?“ You gasped and punched his shoulder softly.

„Kili!“ His sparkling eyes were watching you, while his lips tugged up into a smirk.

„You didn’t minded that when we moved in,“ He winked at you and your cheeks burned red.

„You’re right,“ You muttered and he laughed.

„But I wanted to talk to you about something...something else,“ You nervously rubbed your hands together. He furrowed his brows and cupped your cheek in his palm, making you to look at him.

„What’s wrong, Amralime?“ You felt his body tense. He was fully awake, and you just shook your head with a small smile.

„Nothing is wrong.“

„What is it, then?“ You placed his palm to your stomach. Kili’s eyes widened in realization, experiencing this for the fourth time.

„Are you-are you really-do you mean-?“ You slowly nodded.

„Around a week,“ A grin stretched across his lips and he took you to his arms, kissing your whole face, dancing around your living room.

„We’re going to have another baby, I cannot-oh Mahal, I can’t believe that!“ He kissed your lips with a smile.

„You need to rest, givanshel.“ He started walking towards your bedroom.

„I can walk on my own, Kili.“ You laughed and he kissed your temple as he kicked the door to your bedroom open.

„Well, you need to rest a lot now, so no walking for you, my love.“ He placed you down to your shared bed and you giggled.

„I need to walk at some point. Who will cook?“ Kili kicked off his boots and laid to you, placing you to his chest and resting his palm on your still flat belly. He kissed your temple and blinked, so he wouldn’t start crying out of pure happiness.

„You know how it ended up every time you ever tried to cook,“ You reminded him and he grimaced.

„Oh, c’mon amralime, I’m not that bad at cooking!“

„You cutted yourself while cutting the vegetables and then burned the soup.“

„Oh hush amralime,“ He muttered and you laughed.

„Amad was giving me a cooking lessons,“ He blurted out suddenly. You raised a brow and turned to him.

„When we were over for Durin’s day last year. Well, rather Amad was teaching me, while Lila and Ainiel were watching over the kitchens in general, and Vili, well,“ He looked sleepishly down on you.

„Vili was messing around with Fili,“ You rolled your eyes.

„I’ve noticed them, of course. I’m glad Erebor is still standing,“ You both chuckled and he started rubbing small circles on your belly. You sighed and hugged your husband closer. He kissed your forehead.

„Sleep, Amralime. You need to rest.“

„You too, Amralime. Good night.“

„Good night, my princess.“

#kili x reader #kili x you #kili #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit au #kili durin #kili-x-reader #request

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americasass81 · 4 years

Text

Make Her Mine

Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: Future Dark!fic, Dark!Tony, nothing too serious so far apart from some verbal threats. Word count: 2000 approx. A/N: So this is my first time writing and posting here and I’m debating turning this into a dark!Tony fic. Not sure if that will happen but here goes. Also re-editing this chapter from original female character to reader.

Run-Through

Who knew a booking screw up at your favorite restaurant was about to bring your world crashing down around you when you draw the unwanted attention of a certain billionaire playboy.

Chapter One

Sitting at the bar, waiting to be seated, you couldn't believe a two month wait had been screwed up by something as simple as transferring details from one book into another. But here you were, all dressed up, while the ditzy youngster who called herself a hostess assured you that you would be given top priority when a table became available.

Tucking into your second glass of rosé, you couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching you and that, coupled with your growing irritation, helped you decide that if you weren't seated by the time your wine was finished, you would cut your losses and call it a night. After all, working as an accountant for Stark Industries kept you busy enough and you didn't need to waste any more of your precious free time on someone else's mistakes.

Halfway through your drink, with still no sign of a table opening up, you were brought out of your thoughts by the sudden appearance at your side of one Happy Hogan. "Hey love, the Bossman couldn't help but notice you're sitting here all alone and would be thrilled to have the pleasure of your company. Shall we?" he asked, reaching out his hand for you to take.

Looking around the restaurant, your gaze quickly landed on the secluded area and was greeted by the wandering eyes and devilish smirk of Tony Stark. Tipping his glass slightly and waving two fingers in a come hither gesture, you rolled your eyes, shook your head and turned back to Happy. "Tell himself I said thanks for the offer, but no. I've had a long day and the one saving grace has been royally fucked up, so if you don't mind, I think I'll just call it a night."

"Love, are you sure you don't want to reconsider. Tony Stark is not a man accustomed to being told no. It usually doesn't end well."

"Thank you for the insight, but I am fully aware of most things concerning Mr. Stark. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work in the morning and a boss who expects nothing but perfection from his employees." With that, you shoved your unfinished wine away, picked up your bag and stepping around Happy, walked out of the building.

Hailing a cab, heading home and throwing yourself into bed, you couldn't know that back at the restaurant, your boss was pissed that you had declined his company or that he was now determined to make you see what a mistake that was.

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

The next morning, you headed off to work without even thinking about what had happened the previous night. Sitting down at your desk, you buried your head in your work until lunch called and you decided to head down to the cafe on the ground floor.

Working in Stark Industries, employees were always bragging about the various run-ins they had with Avengers dropping by to see Tony, but it was never something you really gave much thought to. For you, while you loved your job, it was a well paying means to allow you to enjoy what free time it provided. To you, the Avengers were nothing more than other hard working individuals who didn't need people fawning over them for doing a job they chose to do.

That said however when Happy Hogan and Pepper Potts stepped into the elevator, a little voice told you to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. Inching away from Tony Stark's loyal lackies, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, when two floors later, they exited the lift without ever noticing your presence.

Finally reaching the cafe, you ordered your usual mint flavored hot chocolate with whipped cream and decided to head back to your desk where you hoped to disappear until it was time to head home. While the rest of the day passed relatively quickly, you couldn't help your mind wandering over your conversation with Happy the previous night.

From time to time you wondered how there could possibly be any repercussions from turning Tony down seeing as he knew nothing about you, but the more your mind mulled over things, the more on edge you became. By the time you were ready to leave, your nerves had you jumping at every little sound and you were actually looking forward to going home and locking yourself away until facing the same situation tomorrow.

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

After a restless night where every sound had you opening your eyes to see if something was amiss, you gave up sleeping around four, changed into your running gear and headed off for a quick jog before work. Though you usually preferred boxing over running, you figured the fresh air might be useful in keeping you awake for the long day you now had ahead of you. Then after heading home, you cursed Tony Stark as you brewed a cup of coffee, which you usually only drank when you needed to remain functioning.

Heading off to work, feeling slightly better, your day took one hell of a nosedive the minute you arrived at your desk to be told you had to deliver the quarterly financial reports to the meeting upstairs in ten minutes. Knowing that ten minutes was enough time if no one stopped the lift along the way, your biggest concern was the fact that Tony Stark, and possibly Happy Hogan, would be present at said meeting. As you watched the numbers pass by, you tried to reason that as nobody special, you had nothing to worry about and by the time you reached the main floor you had convinced yourself everything was grand. Little did you know, grand is a relative term.

Placing your hand on the meeting room door, you slowly entered and was greeted by three sets of eyes staring at you. Tony, Pepper and Happy were the only ones there and the fact that a whole group of people were just now walking towards the room told you that you had made good time. Ignoring the knowing glances exchanged by Tony and Happy, you walked towards the table before speaking. "These are the quarterly financial reports requested for this meeting Mr. Stark. If there's nothing else, I need to get back to work."

"Wait miss, what's your name?" Tony asked, as he stepped around Pepper to stride towards you.

Thinking about lying but knowing what a waste it would be, you looked anywhere but at him before answering. "Y/F/N." Then, before he could ask anything else, the door opened and you took the opportunity to slip out and put some distance between you. Taking the stairs, you kept going until you reached the lobby and headed straight for the street to draw in some much needed air. Once your breathing returned to normal, you steeled your shoulders and headed back to your desk where you discovered Happy sitting in your chair.

"Well Miss Y/L/N, it seems you're a hard person to track down when one doesn't look right under their nose. Mr. Stark has asked me to escort you to his office."

"I haven't done anything wrong so you can kindly tell Mr. Stark thanks, but no thanks. I have no interest in spending time with him. I simply want to do my job to the best of my ability and live my life in peace."

"And how much peace do you think you'll have if Tony decides your attitude is disrespectful? Now you can let me escort you to his office, or we can wait here for police officers to escort you from this building for stealing money from Stark Industries." he whispered, having risen from the chair and closed the distance between you.

Certain the color had drained from your face, your shoulders slumped as you turned around and walked back the way you came with Happy falling into step beside you.

The ride up in the elevator was so much worse that the previous trip and you couldn't help but wonder what exactly Tony had in mind for you. If Happy was willing to pass on life shattering threats, it didn't bode well in your humble opinion. Leading you out of the lift on the uppermost floor, Happy opened the door to Tony's private office and once you were inside, had F.R.I.D.A.Y. lock the place down. If you weren't panicked before, you were now all but ready to pass out at the sheer dread coursing through your veins.

An hour later, having been left to stew and think through every conceivable worst case scenario, the door of the office unlocked and Tony walked through. Locking the door again, you watched as he discarded his jacket and tie before sitting behind his desk and facing you.

Looking you up and down like that night at the restaurant, you kept your eyes trained on the floor except to glance up once or twice to catch him staring at you. "So Miss Y/L/N, I've learned quite a bit about you in the last two hours. How is it that in the past three years you've worked here, I've never laid eyes on you before two nights ago?"

"You're a busy man and this is a big company. I doubt you've laid eyes on every single employee that works here. Besides, I tend to keep my head down, do my work and not bother anyone." you answered, still not meeting his gaze.

"Admirable qualities to be sure." he smirked, rising from his chair and coming round the desk to take up residence in the seat across from you. "I wonder what other qualities you possess?"

"Mr. Stark?"

"Tony, please. Perhaps you can start by explaining what happened at the restaurant and why you declined my company. Hmm?"

"Look Mr. Stark . . . Tony." you added quickly, when he cleared his throat, "I don't mean to be rude, but as I explained to Mr. Hogan, I have no interest in anything to do with you except the job you pay me for. A job, I might add I'm damn good at and would like to get back to."

"You know, Y/N, for someone who doesn't mean to be rude, you're not doing a very good job. Perhaps a lesson in manners is what's in order."

Any retort you were about to utter was quickly stifled however, when F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed Tony that Captain Rogers was on his way up for their meeting.

"Damn. F.R.I.D.A.Y. please ask Steve to wait outside a moment." Rising to his feet while helping you up, you could see the gears turning in his head but they quickly stopped as he looked at you once more. "I think for now, it's best if you return to your desk. When you're finished, wait there and Happy will drive you to my place where we can continue this conversation."

"Mr. Stark, I don't know what impressions I gave you, but this is highly unwanted and inappropriate behavior. If it continues, I will have no choice but to report you to Human Resources."

"Well damn, Darling, I don't think I've ever been threatened with Human Resources in my own company. No wait, that's a lie. Pepper once threatened me with them, but considering it's my name on the building, it's kinda redundant. Don't you think? Now, be a good girl and do as you're told. Steve's not a man who likes to be kept waiting."

Kissing your cheek and leading you from the office, you headed for the nearest toilets, locked the doors and emptied the contents of your stomach into the nearest bowl. Returning to your desk, you found yourself unable to concentrate on anything but the thought of what would happen when Happy came to collect you.

Deciding you didn't want to wait to find out, you told your boss you weren't feeling well, headed to your favorite hotel and paid cash for a room for two nights. Hopefully, if Tony couldn't find you, whatever game he was playing would fizzle out and things could go back to normal. If not, then you would give yourself a week to figure out how to escape the notice of a man who could severely screw up your life.

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no-whump-on-main · 4 years

Text

Vampire Whump 2

After FOREVER and a half I finished this!! It actually only took two days to write but editing was a BITCH lol. anyways here is 5,000 words of creepy vampire man and cliffhangers

CWs for: Creepy/intimate whumper, pet whump, dehumanization, stripping in a nonsexual sense, self-thoughts and descriptions of body size that could be triggering for those with EDs

Annalise does not often find her Master in what could be described as a good mood. Most often, he is indifferent, if not annoyed with her for minor infractions, such as leaving her porridge untouched or reopening wounds he spent his own time carefully cleaning and closing. Today, however, when Annalise awakens to the sound of his footsteps padding down the stairs, she is shocked to discover cues that make him seem happy. He does not slam the door to her cell when he closes it behind him, and he does not reprimand her for sleeping so much or lacking alertness when he speaks to her. His body language, by all means, is cheerful.

She does, however, notice something strange from her usual position of sitting in the far left corner of the cell with her knees tucked to her chest; he is carrying another item along with his usual oil lamp. It is a long piece of folded white silk. She wonders what the purpose of the fabric is, but remains silent, as she has not been told to speak. She does not speak often, as permission is rarely granted; after all, things like her have no need to speak. They are simply there to accept what is dealt to them and serve.

Master speaks to her, which is not unusual, but his genuinely kind tone of voice is. She snaps to attention, immediately disregarding her wandering thoughts to pay him her utmost regard.

“Come here, darling,” he commands her, pointing to the ground in front of his feet. She immediately crawls to him before kneeling righteously with her back turned to him, assuming he is going to feed. She has slept and woke at least five times since the last time he ate; it was time.

Instead of the anticipated sharp sting in her neck, she is met with a hard slap to the cheek from behind. The girl flinches and squeezes her dull blue eyes shut, but does not otherwise react. She wonders what she has done wrong.

“Other way. Turn around.” His voice is still as kind as it was before, showing no harshness. He has not done this to harm her, only to correct her behavior.

Ah, she had followed Master’s instructions improperly. Dimly, she wonders how she was meant to know he wanted her turned toward him without being told so, as she was always expected to face away from him since she did not deserve to gaze upon him.

The simple explanation is that she is just a stupid girl. She should have known, and the stinging in her cheek is a simple reminder of this.

Obediently, she turns around, now kneeling and facing Master with her eyes averted downward. She knows she is not permitted to make eye contact with him under any circumstance, so to avoid the issue altogether, she keeps her gaze locked down whenever she faces him.

“Good girl. Close your eyes and look forward.”

Her heart skips as she is called a good girl, overjoyed to be called what she craved to be most in the world. Master’s instructions are strange, but she follows them faithfully, letting her eyelids fall shut before lifting her chin up from her chest to look ahead. She feels Master’s hands draw closer to her face, and for a moment, she braces herself to be struck again, but instead of pain, she feels the soft texture of silk brushing against her face, settling over her eyes as Master securely ties the ends together behind her head. She now realizes what the purpose of the strange fabric was; to be a blindfold.

Annalise hasn’t been blindfolded in a very long time, and it makes her nervous. The last time Master drowned out her vision with a thick piece of cloth, he had muzzled her in succession then thrown her into her cage, leaving her alone in the basement to shiver without his guidance. She was given no opportunity to earn herself mercy with obedience; there was only cold metal and humiliation for days on end. She wonders if she is going to go back in the cage, and feels cool dread settle in her stomach at the thought. Master reserves the cage for when her behavior is truly atrocious, and she cannot remember acting out severely in any recent time. Behaving like this unknowingly is her greatest fear; after all, how could she fix her mistakes and prove herself worthy if she didn’t know what she did wrong?

Her fear is thankfully relieved at least somewhat as Master bends over and scoops her up from the ground. One of his arms is supporting her torso from behind, while the other is tucked under her knees. She gasps quietly as they rise, shocked not only to be held, but lifted. Master had said nothing about a reward, and if he were going to punish her, he would drag her off rather than delicately lift her from the ground.

As the vampire steps out of the cell and heads for the stairs, again being delicate with the door, he speaks softly to the confused girl huddled in his arms. “You may ask two questions if you’d like, Annalise.”

Annalise’s head perks up, gleeful for the opportunity to speak as well as to clear some of her bewilderment with the situation. Master is being very generous, allowing her two questions. She pauses for a moment, wanting to make her questions worthwhile; she doesn’t want to waste her opportunity, after all. After pondering for a moment, her first question is the most obvious thing to ask, with her nerves of the unknown.

“Where are we going?” She asks, her voice cracked and brittle from lack of use. The vampire quietly notes to himself that he’d have to fix that before his guests arrived. It sounded ugly.

“Upstairs,” He softly answers, offering no further explanation. Just upstairs. Not what room they would go to, or what they would do upstairs, or why he had now, after nearly two years, decided to take her up beyond the confines of the basement for the first time.

As if to confirm what he told her, he begins to ascend the steps, each second another moment closer to finally having his muse upstairs.

This will change things, and he knows it. He may be calloused, but he knows that once he brings her into his home, he won’t want to leave her in the inky blackness of the basement again. He sees the way she shivers, how her bones sit so very close to her skin, and part of him thinks that with her perfect, practiced, and soon to be tested obedience, she deserves at the very least to be a housepet. Of course, he won’t let his emotions control his actions, and she must remain positively perfect as she is now to earn her place, but with her hard work, he does not doubt she could rise to the occasion.

Annalise’s heart skips a beat as her Master ponders what is to become of the state of her existence. Upstairs?

She has no memories of the main level of her Master’s home, but she does know that it exists, and she believes that it is a grand place, much more spacious and welcoming than the cold abyss downstairs. She is overjoyed at the news, yet even more curious than she is ecstatic. Before she can stop herself, she blurts out her second question, poorly worded from her haste.

“Why?”

Master stops in his tracks as Annalise realizes her mistake. She begins to correct herself but quickly remembers that she has not been given open speech, only two questions, so she goes silent.

“That is not a question, darling. I’ll be gracious and let you try again, but do not repeat that error. Understood?”

Annalise quickly nods and states her question again. This time, it is properly worded. “Why are we going upstairs, Master?”

The vampire begins to ascend again, and he can feel Annalise become less tense. He decides to be generous with his explanation.

“We are going upstairs because I have decided it is time to introduce you to my peers, and I have planned somewhat of a dinner party, if you will, accordingly. We will discuss my expectations for your behavior through this once I get you ready.”

Master falls quiet after that, leaving Annalise to stew in her shock. She hears another door open and can now feel Master walking along flat ground. She notices it is much warmer upstairs, delighting her greatly. She has not stopped shivering, but her usual quakes have become gentle flutters with the change in temperature.

She is finally set down after Master walks through two more doors. She doesn’t know where he has taken her, but the scent is different in the room they settle in. The house smelled of aged cedar and iron before they went through the last door, but this room smells like myrrh and frankincense. It is rich and deep, radiating through all of the room’s air.

Annalise wonders how she knows the names of these smells. She cannot remember being taught them.

The surface she sits upon now is hard and close to the source of the scents. She feels small droplets of water soak into the back of her nightgown as she settles with her hands folded in her lap. She understands after she feels the water; she is in a bathtub, in Master’s bathroom. The rich smells have to be that of his soaps and colognes. She thinks they must be very expensive given how strongly fragrant they are.

She is still very confused on why she has been deemed worthy of coming upstairs, but she does not question Master’s decisions. He is wise. He knows what is best for her. He knows what she deserves.

Master does not let her sit in the tub and ponder for long. His instructions come soon after she is set down.

“Remove your clothes, dear.”

Annalise obeys without question but wonders what the purpose of the command is. Master has never required her to do such a thing before, and as she feels cool bathroom air hit her now exposed body, she wishes he hadn’t. She shudders, but remains silent and still, simply waiting for Master to instruct her further, or to do something himself.

He then does something strange. He walks in front of her, makes something clink in the bottom of the tub by her feet, and turns a creaky handle.

Then she feels warmth. Warm water is pouring over her feet. It reaches out and starts to lap at her legs, then steadily continues to move forward and rise, all the way up until it reaches her chest. She realizes then that she is taking a bath-that is why she was told to strip. This is what Master meant when he said he needed to make her presentable.

Of course, she knew that people usually bathed when they were in bathtubs, but she never could have expected Master would deem her worthy of this luxury. She had originally thought that he just needed somewhere to put her down. It seems completely irrational for her to deserve something like this, yet here she is.

If this is a reward, it is Annalise’s new favorite. This is the first warm bath she can remember, and she is basking in it. She has been bathed before, of course, it has been far too long for her to have gone without a bath at all, but all of the baths she can remember up to this point were miserable experiences. They all went the same way; Master would come down with a bucket of ice water and dump it over her, usually while she was in the cage, with no warning, or even commands, then leave. He just let her shiver alone in silence until the air dried her off.

She shudders. She does not like these memories.

The sound of the water pouring heavily down into the porcelain tub is loud, loud enough that she wouldn’t be able to hear Master over it if he were trying to speak to her. Luckily, when it does stop, once the water is approaching the top of the deep tub, Master does not reprimand her for not listening, so he must not have tried to speak at all.

He walks back over to her side, now, and pours something that smells sweet into the bathwater. She can’t place the exact scent, but it seems floral.

“You may speak freely if you please. This includes questions.”

His voice is loud and booming, echoing in Annalise’s ears. Speak freely? She has not heard Master say that in a very, very long time. The last time she can remember is when he’d put her in the cage, and wanted to hear her every thought and plea.

She doesn’t remember how long ago that was.

Master is being so very kind today. Though she does not understand his kindness, she will not be ungrateful. Her first free words are those of thanks, and her voice shakes with how quickly she is stumbling over her words as she leans back in the bath.

“Thank..T-Thank you, Master! Thank you master for b-believing I am worthy of being t-taken into your h-home and for the warm bath, it-it’s wonderful, oh-”

“Silence, Annalise.”

The girl’s mouth falls shut.

“You do not ramble. You will not waste my time with rambling. Say what you need to in an efficient and eloquent manner.”

The girl swallows a lump in her throat and nods.

“Good girl. Now, what were you saying?”

“Thank you,” she replies softly, now. She is scared. Of being punished, or even just losing the privilege.

“You are very welcome,” Master tells her. He falls quiet. He’s waiting for her to speak.

The bathroom is quiet for a moment before Annalise realizes this and speaks again.

“Why am I blindfolded?” She asks.

She hopes Master will not take her question as her doubting his authority. She trusts that he knows best; she just wonders why this is best.

“You’ve been in the dark for a long time, darling. Sudden light now will hurt your eyes. We’ll introduce it slowly.”

The explanation makes sense, and Annalise nods. She wonders how she’s going to get used to the light slowly-light is light, isn’t it? Maybe he would use candles, lighting just one at a time. That could work, couldn’t it?

The girl desperately wants to just fall silent and enjoy the fragrant warmth enveloping her, but she figures it would be rude to ignore Master when he had so graciously let her speak openly. She doesn’t know when the privilege will be revoked, so she should use it while she still can. The problem is that she finds she does not know what to say or ask. She has been silent for so long that she does not know what to say now, and she frowns until she finally resigns and tells Master, “...I don’t have anything else to say, Sir.”

The vampire doesn’t seem to mind, letting her quietly relax back in the bathwater for a few minutes to soak. He decides to take this time to rifle through a medicine cabinet above the sink. He still needs something for her voice; he can’t have her sounding like a croaking toad in front of his friends. He scans many bottles until finally deciding on a simple jar of honey. Most of the medicines he has are far out of date, and he won’t risk getting her sick. She’s weaker when she’s ill, making it much more dangerous for her to be fed on. And with tonight’s plans, he needs her healthy.

He takes the honey and a tablespoon for serving then brings it back to Annalise. Crouching over the side of the tub, he instructs her to open her mouth, before he feeds her the contents of the spoon. The girl seems surprised by the sweet liquid but doesn’t make any comments about it, and the vampire leaves her in peace for the remainder of the time that he has determined she needs to soak in the floral clarifying solution for.

Once several minutes have passed, he begins to clean the girl. He does not inform her of what he’s doing, but simply soaks a sponge and silently lifts each of her limbs one by one, thoroughly cleansing them each individually before letting them fall back into the water. Her back and torso are next; they have suffered the worst of the abuse, and are both caked in filth and dried blood, requiring the vampire to soak and scrub them more diligently to fully clean them.

It is a long process, but once he is satisfied that her body is clean, he moves on to her hair. It’s a long, matted mess, but the vampire seems determined to detangle it, not wanting to chop one bit off of the beautiful curls hidden underneath the mats. He takes good care of his things, after all; cutting things off of his possessions would be wildly inappropriate. Unless, of course, they had earned that treatment. Annalise had not.

The vampire finally breaks the silence and speaks to Annalise, not wanting to startle the relaxed girl by suddenly dunking her underwater with no warning.

“Hold your breath for me, dear. I’m going to wet your hair,” he warns her smoothly.

Annalise nods and braces herself to go beneath the surface of the water. She’d nearly drifted off while Master scrubbed her clean, and even now remains in a state of such relaxed bliss that she might as well be sleeping, hardly present with the world.

She isn’t held under for any longer than a few seconds, just long enough to saturate her tangled hair and wash a bit of the dirt on her face away. Master soon leans her back up and she inhales deeply, her eyes still closed under the soaked blindfold as water drips from her hair. She hears master pick up another bottle, this one smelling distinctly of roses as he pours some out into his hands, then applies it to her hair. It must be shampoo, with the clean feeling it leaves as Master massages it into her scalp. She feels her spine tingle as his fingers rub her head and she sighs happily. She has been weary for so long; this comfort, though it is unfamiliar, is incredible.

She is lost in her thoughts as Master rinses the shampoo from her hair, then begins to slather what has to be a whole bottle of conditioner onto the giant mats and tangles. He then spends so much time brushing through it, tiny section by tiny section, that the water goes cold by the time he’s done. Annalise can’t see it, but there’s a discarded pile of her hair that had been ripped out in the process by the vampire’s feet.

Just as she begins to grow weary of the long bath, the vampire finishes brushing out her hair and washes the excess conditioner from her hair, then unplugs the drain by her toes. The water’s level starts to slowly fall until it has all drained away. Annalise is bewildered by the feeling of her wet hair sticking to her back; she had no clue it was so very long. Before it was brushed out, the huge knots had kept it from scraping anywhere past the middle of her back, but now, she feels the ends brush down by her hips.

She’s starting to shiver from the cool air surrounding her wet body, but Master soon saves her from the cold by wrapping her in a fluffy towel. He reaches into the tub and picks her up again after making sure the towel was secure, then walks off with her, but does not take her far. They only go through one door, and hardly travel any steps after it, before she is set down on a plush surface. Her hands instinctively fold in her lap. The ground beneath her is soft, fuzzy, even, like her blanket, and she realizes with delight that she has been set down on Master’s bed. She knows she is only going to sit here momentarily, but it is so very soft and nice, she wishes she could stay.

Master’s footsteps start to recede away, then Annalise hears the sound of a match striking. He must be lighting candles. Was Master going to take off the blindfold now? She hoped so. She didn’t like things being so dark. Her eyes had adapted to see just enough down in the basement, but now, with the fabric and Master’s order to keep her eyes closed, everything is pitch black. It is frightening. She does not like it.

Her hopes, for once, come true; Master returns to her, and with gentle hands, unties the wet silk and lets it fall into her lap. Even after the blindfold comes off, her eyes are still closed. Master had never said to open them after he told her to close them in her cell.

“Open your eyes, Annalise,” she hears his voice boom, and she immediately obeys. Her gaze is respectfully focused down at the ground. All she can see are her own legs, the edge of the bed, and the dark hardwood floor below her. The room is very dim; there are small bursts of light coming from the candles visible in the corner of her eye, but they are so few that her eyes do not hurt even a bit. Master was careful with it. He is kind.

“Do they hurt, at all? Uncomfortable, even?”

Annalise shakes her head. She notes that the soft blanket she sits on is blue. It’s hard to see the color, but she’s able to make out that it’s a very dark blue. She likes the color.

“Good,” he hums. He seems happy. That makes Annalise happy.

Annalise watches Master step away. He walks out of her field of vision, just for a moment, then returns. There’s a bundle of deep red fabric hung over his arm when he returns. It’s just as shiny as the material of the blindfold had been.

“I went out and bought you a dress, just for tonight. What do you say, Annalise? You may speak. And chin up, dear, I want you to see it.”

Annalise raises her head. She’s no longer looking at the ground, but straight ahead. She can’t see Master’s head, but she sees the gown he’s holding out in front of her. It’s simple, but she finds it beautiful. The dress is bright red and very long, the bottom brushing against the floor. It looks loose and flowy; there are several layers of stitched tulle atop a silk base, with long poet sleeves made of the tulle.

It’s gorgeous. Annalise is shocked into silence for a moment before she remembers Master's order and hurries to comply.

“Thank you, Master. It-It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

She wants to say more, to break down in thanks for the entire opportunity of being allowed upstairs in the first place, but she remembers his rule against rambling and quiets herself. From what she can see of his body language, Master seems pleased by her reaction.

“You’re very welcome. Get it on, then. I’ll help you zip the back.

Annalise carefully reaches out to take the dress, but Master pulls back and points to a set of undergarments set directly behind her. She delicately removes the towel from herself and slips them on, first, then reaches out again to take the dress from him. He lets her take it this time. His hands brush hers as they close around the fabric, and her heart flutters. She wishes he would hold her. He hasn’t in a long time, and she misses it.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to shake the thought from her mind. There isn’t time for distraction now. She’d been given an order. Carefully, Annalise slips the gown over her head. The fabric feels luxurious, expensive against her skin, and it makes her nervous. What if she damaged it? Master bought it just for her. If she ruined it, she’d be in such dire trouble.

It feels awkward and difficult to get the dress on while staying seated, but after a small struggle, her arms finally settle into the sleeves and she’s able to brush the skirt of the dress down over her legs. The dress fits her well, if not a little loose. There’s a bit of scrunched fabric still stuck beneath her, but it will settle next time Master lifts her.

“Turn around,” He tells her once she has gotten into the dress. She obeys, pulling her legs all the way up onto the bed before flipping herself around completely. As soon as she’s turned, the vampire pulls the zipper on the dress from her lower back up to the nape of her neck. He grabs her hair and runs a few strands between his fingers, humming to himself as if he were indecisive. Finally, he lets it go, seemingly deciding to leave it be. He does, however, produce a small jar full of a sweet-smelling cream from his pocket. He rakes some of the substance through her hair with his fingers before splitting it in half and setting it over her shoulders.

“Your hair looks nice down,” he hums. “Look at the curls. They’re beautiful.”

Annalise doesn’t know if that was a real command or not, but she does look anyways, just to be safe. She wouldn’t risk disobedience.

Her hair is an ashy brown. It’s quickly starting to dry and curl up. She doesn’t know what Master finds so particularly beautiful about it, it’s just hair, but she nods in agreement with his judgment. He is right, she just doesn’t know why.

“Turn back to me. We’re almost done, dear. You’re nearly ready.”

Annalise turns to face Master again, and she is soon taken back up in his arms. The vampire carries her over to a small vanity, gracefully pulling the small bench tucked beneath it out at a ninety-degree angle before setting her down on it, mindful to keep her dress in place now that it’s had the opportunity to fall into place behind her legs. He then does something peculiar; he kneels in front of her. Annalise finds it strange to see her Master kneel in front of her. Wasn’t that her job? Why would he kneel?

She says nothing on the matter, but is acutely aware of her position. Master is right in front of her; if she looked up too soon, she’d make direct eye contact. Master had once called that the greatest form of disrespect a creature like her could show. This made the position incredibly unnerving. One wrong move, and-

“Look up.”

Annalise is shocked. She remains perfectly still, but her heart is pounding. Look up? But, but that would mean-

“Are you disobeying me?” Master asks firmly after she fails to obey. She quickly shakes her head. She’s just shocked, and scared.

With no other option, the girl lifts her head. Her eyes are still tilted downward, but she’s close enough to Master that it doesn’t matter. She sees him very clearly, more clearly than she ever has since she had acted defiant and refused to avert her gaze. His jaw is sharp and his chin pointed, skin pale and lips full with long orange hair falling pin straight down his shoulders.

As soon as her chin comes up, Master begins to brush a powder all over her face. She’s not sure what exactly it is, but she knows it is some sort of makeup. Something liquidy is applied to her cheeks before master then dots something cool under her eyes.

Master is working silently, for the most part, and efficiently. He tells her to close her eyes, then brushes yet another powder over her eyelids, and coats her lashes with something thick and sticky. She doesn’t like the sensation, but she is silent. It’s much more bearable when her eyes reopen, anyways. Finally, Master smears a gloss across her lips, then tells her he’s finished. He turns the bench back to face the vanity.

The mirror catches her eye quickly. Annalise stares at herself in the reflection. Master is standing behind her, but she doesn’t see him, only herself.

The satin and tulle layers of her dress cover a tiny frame, so small even Annalise herself feels shocked despite not remembering a baseline for herself. Even under the makeup, she notices she looks exhausted. The huge bags under her eyes are only thinly veiled by concealer, and her cheeks are sunken and hollow. Her hair, though beautifully curled, looks dull.

Annalise doesn’t remember what she is supposed to look like, but it is not this. She’s sure it’s not this.

Master’s voice suddenly booms from behind her as a frown starts to form on her lips.

“You look just beautiful, don’t you, darling?”

Annalise nods, though really, she couldn’t agree any less.

“Let’s get out into the parlor, then. The guests will arrive any minute now. It took longer than I expected to bathe you.”

Master scoops her back into his arms, a very familiar action by now, and begins to walk toward the bedroom door. Before he opens it, though, he warns her, “It’s much brighter out there. Close your eyes if you must, dear.”

Annalise nods. Master was right, it’s unbearably bright, and as soon as he opens the door, she has to squeeze her eyes shut. She is curious about what the house looks like, but her curiosity is not strong enough to incline her to burn her eyes with the light over. Master chuckles, almost seeming amused by her adverse reaction.

They walk for a long time, a much longer period than it took them to get to the bathroom from the basement. Finally, though, Annalise is set down on another plush surface, though this one is much firmer than the bed, and has a hard backing. Master soon sits beside her, so close she can feel the piece of furniture they sit on dip with his weight.

“Are you ready, darling? You are permitted to speak,” He asks, his voice soothing and calm.

“I think-I think so,” Annalise murmurs. She’s beginning to open her eyes in short blinks, but the light is still so bright she can’t see much of anything.

“Good. Just remember, my love, there are expectations. You are to follow every rule you already have, and additionally, you are to do whatever my guests may ask of you unless I directly tell you otherwise. They are not your master, but they are in charge, and you follow their commands unless they are overridden by me. Disrespecting any of them or misbehaving in their presence will have severe consequences. I expect you to behave perfectly. Do not ruin any part of this night for me. Understood, dear?

Annalise nods. She isn’t cold, but she’s shaking again.

“Good. I expect you’ll have a most exciting evening, then.”

Annalise doesn’t respond. There is silence, just for a moment.

Then there is a sharp, repeated banging on the front door, just feet away from the pair. Annalise jumps at the sounf, but Master simply stands and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“You’ll do great. I’m sure of it.”

He leans down to whisper into her ear. His breath is hot on her neck, raising goosebumps all over her body.

“After all, you have plenty of motivation.”

He walks off to answer the door.

tags: @quirkykayleetam @vamplolz

#whump #intimate whumper #intimate whump #whumpee #human whumpee #vampire whumper #vampire whump #whumping #pain #whump writing #OC Writing #my ocs #whump fic #im whumpin god willin'#be gentle i was too exhausted to edit this more than twice

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viostormcaller · 4 years

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JSE Fic- An (Almost) Unhappy Birthday

AN: I know it’s a day late and the drawing I originally planned isn’t done, but I had to post SOMETHING for the sad dad’s birthday, so I settled on something I know for sure I’m good at. And hey, late is better than never! This took me SO long and I swear I cried every time I read through it to edit it. But I’m really, really proud of it and I hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it!

((TW: Alcoholism, suicidal ideation))

Chase sat in the back of his car, splayed out across the seats. He stared out of the windshield from where he was, watching the wind rustle the low-hanging branches on the trees that lined the sunlit street. He didn't know whether to be grateful for the pleasant weather or wish for rain to better match the mood. Luckily, it wasn't hot enough to need the AC, so he had that going for him, he figured.

He sighed, running a hand down his face before allowing his arm to fall limp against the leather seat. He looked over to the bottle beside him. It was half-empty. He never drank and drove -- he wasn't stupid -- so he would only pull out the bottle when he was in the forest, at the cairn he made in honor of love lost. But today… he didn't care. He didn't plan on going anywhere. He just wanted to sit and drink and do nothing else until the day ended.

He'd been paying attention. He knew what day it was. April 11th. His birthday. But he didn't plan on celebrating. What the hell was there to celebrate? His miserable existence? Chase scoffed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head bitterly. No, all he's known since the day he was born was pain and heartbreak and suffering. He tried to be that ray of sunshine he wanted to be, he really did. And despite everything, he succeeded, for a time. But the day he lost his wife, lost his kids, lost everything… it all went downhill from there and only got worse as the years went on. His best friend is in a coma, has been for three years now. Chase already resigned himself to believing Jack was dead. And for a time -- nine months exactly -- Henrik was gone, too, leaving him with nothing but Jack's channel and the job to take over while the YouTuber was out of commission. He had no one to turn to, not really. And sure, Marvin was watching over him, protecting him, but… he wasn't a therapist. He wasn't about to bug Marvin with his problems. That wasn't his job. His only job was to keep Anti away while Chase recorded, while he wore Jack's name. And forget about Jackie -- hell knows where he went. Hadn't heard from him in years. So he turned to whiskey to ease the pain, and while he still had hope left, visited Jack as often as he could.

But you all already know this story, don't you?

Chase wrapped his fingers around the familiar neck of the whiskey bottle, keeping them there and making no moves to pick it up. He laughed to himself, absentmindedly wondering how much whiskey it would take to get alcohol poisoning. He glanced down at the paper bag on the floor of the car, seeing that same, familiar cap peeking out, this one new and untouched.

Today, he planned to find out.

It's not like anyone would fuckin' find me, anyway, Chase reasoned. No one can see through my windows, and I haven't heard from anybody in fuckin' forever so it's not like they'll be checkin' up on me. Chase felt himself tearing up again as he pulled the bottle close, unscrewing the cap. The familiar smell hit him, strong as ever. A strange comfort, for sure, but the only comfort he had left.

"Down the hatch," he whispered. He was just about to press the bottle to his lips when out of the corner of his eye he saw his phone light up. Not a second later it began to buzz. Chase sighed, screwing the cap back on and setting the bottle down. He picked up the phone with reluctance and read who was calling.

Henrik. Of course he was.

Chase debated on just letting it ring, just ignoring the call. He didn't exactly feel like talking. All he wanted to do today was (quite literally) drink himself to death in peace. He wondered if Henrik would even care, if he would even think to call back if he didn't answer. Would he come looking? Would he be worried? Chase sat and debated and pondered over this, and by the time he went to react, the vibrating had stopped and the car was silent once more. Chase tossed the phone aside and slumped back against the seat, blowing his unkempt hair out of his face.

Would Henrik miss him if he was gone? Of course, Henrik's saved his life before, but things were different now and he knew that he hadn't exactly become the easiest person in the world to deal with since all this happened. He wondered if Henrik would care, or if he would be glad to be rid of him, of someone who's just become a nuisance. He went to reach for the bottle again when his phone lit up once more. A glance told him that it was Henrik calling back. He didn't make any moves to pick up the phone, just letting it ring and ring and ring until it stopped. No use ruining Henrik's day with the same depressing bullshit he always spews. Just because he wasn't happy didn't mean Henrik had to be unhappy, too. The man already suffers enough.

Though he refused to touch the bottle, just in case he changed his mind.

Once more the phone lit up, the generic ringtone filling the still air of the car. Chase didn't move, just staring off into space and stewing in his thoughts. And once again, the phone eventually fell silent.

Though a second later, it lit up again. This time, it was a text message. And then there was another. And another. And Chase finally gave in and picked up his phone, reading the messages -- all from Henrik, of course.

Henrik: Chase?

H: Chase are you okay?

H: Answer me please

Chase unlocked his phone and stared at the messages. A moment later a new one came in.

H: Please tell me you are safe. Please.

Chase couldn't help but feel bad. He didn't want Henrik to worry, that wasn't his intention. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Finally, a final message came in.

H: Chase, please do not tell me you did what I think you did. Please, answer me!

Chase's heart was in his throat and a pit opened up in his stomach. He began to type out a short, two-word reply when he was interrupted. Henrik was calling again. He let out a breath to calm his nerves. No way he was ignoring him now. Out of all the things Chase was, what he wasn't was an asshole. He slid his finger over the answer button and held the phone up to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Chase! Oh, danke dem Herrn oben. Chase, I am so glad you are alright. I was so worried about you, my friend! I thought… I thought something had happened to you!"

Chase chuckled humorlessly. "Don't worry, I'm okay."

"Were you busy?"

"I was…" Chase sighed. He was going to say he was driving, but he didn't want to lie to him. It would be wrong of him to make him feel foolish on top of scaring him half to death. "I'm sorry. I… didn't wanna bog you down with my bad mood. Just because I'm always sad… that doesn't mean you should be, too."

"Oh, Chase…"

Chase grimaced. He could practically see the pitied look on the doctor's face.

"Chase, you know that I am always here for you, yes?"

"...yeah," Chase answered reluctantly. Though everyone always says that, yet no one ever stays.

"You may not believe it," Henrik continued, "but I like helping you. Nothing worthwhile comes easy, you know."

"...so you're saying that I'm hard to deal with?" Saying that out loud caused a sharp twinge to resonate in his chest.

"Ch-Chase, no! That-- that is not what I am saying at all!"

"It's whatever, Henrik. I…" Chase sighed. "I know what you meant."

There was an awkward, strained silence between them before anyone spoke again.

"What was it you were even calling me for?" inquired Chase.

"I, um… I wanted to take you out for dinner tonight. You know… for the occasion. Like we used to do."

Chase bit his lip. Right, like they used to. Only it used to be him, Henrik, and Jack. He quickly wiped away the tears that threatened to spill.

"U-uh… n-no thank you, Henrik. I'm… I'm good."

"...Are you sure?"

Chase's heart lurched at the blatant disappointment in Henrik's voice. "Y-yeah, I mean… I'm not really… not really in a state to be goin' out anywhere…"

"Have you been drinking?" Henrik asked curiously.

"Huh? Oh, no, no," Chase answered honestly. "It's not that, just… I don't have any clean clothes and I haven't showered in… a while. Tch, much less fuckin' brushed my teeth."

"Oh, is that all?" Chase could hear Henrik laugh over the phone. "Well, those are an easy fix! You can clean yourself up at my place, and I have plenty of clean clothes for you to wear. We do wear the same sizes, after all. Come on! What do you say?"

Chase sighed. He had no excuses now. And hey, maybe it was for the best, he figured, if he spent his birthday with someone rather than alone. Plus, the whiskey he bought will still be there by the time the day is over and he's back to living out of his car. He can still do what he planned to, even if it's a day later. So he could take today to make his last meal with his closest living friend a good one.

"Alright," Chase decided. "Text me your address and I'll be over in ten."

"Oh, great! Yes, I will do that right away. See you soon, Chase!"

"Yeah, see you soon, Henrik."

He let Henrik hang up the phone, keeping it in his hand until the text message came in with Henrik's address. As he waited he couldn't help but grin to himself, recalling the sheer excitement in Henrik's voice. It's been a long, long time since he's heard him that excited. Though, to be fair, there was nothing of late that would ignite such excitement, not with everything going on. As soon as his phone buzzed and lit up, Chase moved to open the door and step out of the car. He opened the driver's seat door and turned the car on, rolling down the windows to remove the towels he'd draped there as makeshift curtains. Once the back passenger door was shut, his "curtains" laying bunched up on the back seat, he finally got in the car, buckled his seatbelt, and entered Henrik's address into the GPS. As he began to drive off, he was thankful he held off on drinking. He wouldn't be driving to see Henrik right now otherwise.

It took Chase about a half hour or so to reach Henrik's house. He always loved how big it was. Of course, doctors make a lot of money and Henrik was a doctor of more than one degree, so he was, needless to say, doing very well for himself.

And, of course, you can't exactly get evicted from a house you bought if you leave for nine months.

Shaking the thought from his head, he stepped out of the car and headed up the steps to Henrik's front door. Just looking at the exterior of the house made him feel gross. Henrik's place wasn't a mansion, exactly, but it was a really nice house. Very clean and well-kept, which Chase was not. Not currently, anyway. Suddenly he was really looking forward to that shower. He raised his hand and began to knock.

Chase could hear a faint call of "Coming!" from behind the door, and not a moment later the door swung open and Henrik was standing there, arms outstretched and eyes sparkling. Chase gratefully accepted his hug, biting down hard on his lip to keep himself from crying. It's been so long, too long, since he'd gotten a hug from anyone. He didn't realize just how much he missed it. How much he needed one.

"Oh, it is so good to see you, my friend!" Henrik beamed, squeezing Chase lovingly. He then pulled away, stretching out his palm to welcome him inside. "Come in, come in!" he ushered.

Chase headed inside, hearing the door click shut behind him. A sense of what Chase could only describe as warmth washed over him. Of course, he'd been over to Henrik's place many times over the years, but this time it felt… different, somehow. He couldn't place why.

"House looks great as ever, Henrik," Chase smiled.

"Oh, why thank you!"

"New table, I see?"

"Oh, yes," Henrik headed over and stood by the kitchen table. "Yes, it was time for a new one. The other one was getting old."

"How long have you even had that for? Almost as long as you've had a house you've had that table."

"Yes, it has been years. It was bittersweet, letting it go, but… in with the new, out with the old, as they say!"

I'm sure he said the phrase backwards, Chase chuckled to himself.

"Now, while I am in the kitchen, can I get you anything before you take your shower?"

"Uhh… no, I think I'm good. Thanks, though."

"Oh, is nothing. I will grab you a change of clothes. Wait one moment."

"Righty-o," Chase replied.

"Oh, um, feel free to take a seat. You do not have to stand around. Go on, make yourself at home! I will be right back." With that, Henrik ducked out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs to his room.

Chase just nodded to himself. With how dirty he was (or at least, how he felt he was), he didn't feel all that comfortable sitting on the couch. He didn't want to dirty the new table either, but wood could be more easily cleaned than fabric, so he opted to sit at the table.

He agreed with Henrik on how bittersweet it was to let go of his old dining table. He didn't realize how much he missed the familiar squeak the chair made as he sat down until it wasn't there anymore. But he knew that, with time, this chair, too, would become worn with use and have its own signature squeak.

Though Chase knew he wouldn't be here for that.

He sighed heavily, resting his head in his hand, his elbow propped up on the table. He could feel that familiar ache blooming in his chest, threatening to swallow him. He sighed again and shivered, teeth chattering even though he wasn't cold. And then he yawned. He hadn't realized just how tired he was. Of course, sleeping in the back seat of your car every night meant you never slept well. And even before that, he was always tired, always worn down. But that's what a hopeless life will do to you, he knew.

Before long he was pulled from his thoughts, hearing footsteps bounding down the stairs. Henrik came into view, a bundle of neatly folded clothes in his arms.

"Here you are, Chase," Henrik said, handing him the pile of clothes. "The bathroom with the shower is upstairs."

"Mm, yeah. I remember. Thanks, Schneep."

"Is no problem at all! Now, go wash up. I will be waiting in the living room."

"Yeah, alright."

Chase headed up the stairs, one hand cradling the bundle of clothes and one hand remaining firm on the hand rail. It may have been forever since he'd been here, but he knew the layout of the house like the back of his hand. He could see Henrik's room at the very end of the hall. On the right was his office, and on the left was the bathroom. He ducked in, not hesitating to turn the shower on and get undressed.

Chase could have cried, feeling soap and hot water enveloping him for the first time in what felt like ages. He gave everywhere a good scrubbing, running fingers through his now-untangled hair, letting the hot water hit his body, taking in the smell of steam and body wash. He regretted all those times he didn't have the energy or motivation to shower, swearing that he would never take it for granted ever again.

Though, he remembered that it was going to be his last. That same melancholy opened up in his chest again and he sighed, movements slowing as he mulled that over. It was almost funny, how easy it was to forget his plan. He scoffed to himself, knowing that that probably meant he wouldn't have the balls to follow through with it when the time comes.

He decided he'll see what happens when that moment arrives.

For now he stepped out of the shower, drying himself off with the towel Henrik had laid out for him. He pulled on the fresh pair of boxers Henrik gave him alongside his clothes, and--

Wait.

For the first time, Chase took a good look at the clothes Henrik gave him. He stood, befuddled, mostly surprised that he hadn't noticed. Did this man really just give me a suit? Chase questioned. What the hell kind of restaurant is he taking me to?! Whatever it was, it was going to be fancy, clearly. Chase wasn't sure he was ready for all that, but it was too late to back out now. He sighed and looked around the bathroom. Now that he was clean, he realized just how awful his breath tasted. A glance at the sink allowed him to find a clearly new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste laid out side-by-side, as if put there on purpose. He knew it wasn't Henrik's -- his toothbrush was in a little plastic cup by the faucet. This new toothbrush could only be meant for him, then, since Henrik lived alone. Chase headed over to the sink, thinking that the smarter idea was to brush his teeth before he got dressed, just in case he spilled toothpaste on his suit jacket.

He chuckled to himself as he brushed his teeth, remembering the time he did that before a date with Stacy. Hardly anyone noticed, but god did he feel ridiculous the entire time. He could only laugh now. It was funny that, at one point, a toothpaste stain was the only thing he had to worry about. Something that mattered so little at the end of the day.

And now look where he is, what's happened to him since then.

He shook his head to clear it, pulling himself back into the moment. He brushed his teeth well, rinsed with mouthwash, spit, and wiped his mouth. As he breathed in, he could feel how cool and minty and fresh his breath was. Brushing his teeth was another thing he wouldn't take for granted.

Chase looked up, staring at himself in the mirror. The first thing he noticed was his eyes, deep, purple rings around them, no doubt from constant exhaustion. He shook his head. I look like a raccoon, he thought bitterly. As he did this, he watched his hair flop back and forth. He brushed it out of his eyes, thankfully staying in place because it was still damp. He needed a haircut; it was far too long for his liking. But he could deal for tonight.

For what felt like the billionth time within the last few hours, he pulled himself from his thoughts. He went to get dressed, slipping his arms through the sleeves of the white shirt and buttoning it up. Next came the pants, which he pulled on and tucked the shirt into. Then came the tie -- which had been hidden underneath the shirt -- and finally, came the jacket. He looked himself over in the mirror. He looked… good. He actually looked good. He couldn't help but smile and puff out his chest a little. Of course, the pants were a tiny bit big, but he knew Schneep had a belt he could borrow. He was a little surprised, though; he figured he would have gained weight thanks to all the crap he's been forced to eat. But at the same time… it was rare for him to have much of an appetite nowadays, so he ate a lot less than he used to. Maybe that was why, he figured. But, no matter. He threw his dirty clothes into the hamper on instinct, though after doing so wondering if that was the best thing to do. He wasn't sure if Henrik was willing to wash his clothes. He'd have to ask later. For right now, he headed out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

Henrik gasped when he saw Chase, hands flying to his mouth and eyes sparkling. He looked like a proud father. Even more so, since in the time Chase showered, Henrik seemed to have also put on a suit of his own. "Oh, Chase, the suit looks so nice on you! Does it fit okay?"

Chase couldn't help but blush, looking away sheepishly. "Uh, y-yeah, it fits fine. Gonna need a belt, though."

"Ah, no problem. I definitely have one lying around. I will grab it for you."

"Thanks. Um…"

"What is it?"

"What kind of restaurant are we going to, exactly?"

"Oh, um…" it was Henrik's turn to look sheepish. "I, um… Well, I know it was a bit of a, how you say, ballsy move to do this, but… I made reservations for a nice restaurant downtown. I passed by it sometime last month and knew from the very moment I saw it that I had to take you. I remembered your birthday was coming up, so I figured the timing was just right and made reservations over the phone as soon as I got their number."

Chase couldn't help but feel touched. Touched, and really guilty that he'd originally declined. Henrik must have noticed it flash briefly on Chase's face, because he was quick to reassure him.

"O-oh, it would have been alright with me if you did not want to go. I know I did not tell you beforehand so you would not have known. And I could have easily canceled, anyway. No need to worry about that."

Chase just nodded, looking away. Finally, he drew in a breath to speak. "I… I dunno what I did to deserve you, man, but… seriously, thank you. This… this means a lot to me. It really does."

"Aw, is no big deal. I would do anything for you. And I know that you deserve to have a good birthday, one that is not spent in the car all alone and drinking yourself away."

Chase flinched a little when Henrik said that. He knew he probably didn't mean anything by it, but… that was exactly what he had planned to do, quite literally. It was impossible, of course, but he couldn't help but wonder if Henrik knew more than he was letting on, if he read him so well that he knew that that was his plan. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind, instead just chuckling nervously.

"Uh… what time is the reservation for?"

"Six-thirty. It is…" Henrik glanced at his watch. "four o' two now, so we have about twenty or so minutes to kill before we should head out. You know how traffic is."

"God, do I," Chase agreed with a roll of his eyes.

Henrik patted down on the spot next to him, beckoning Chase to come sit. Chase obliged, sitting himself down next to Henrik. He sighed pleasedly -- it had been so long since he'd been on a couch. Yet another thing on his list of things he wouldn't ever take for granted.

And so the pair talked and caught up, and Henrik nearly forgot about the reservation entirely until he just so happened to check his watch and saw that they were two minutes past the time they should have left. Henrik shot up with a curse in German, hurrying up the stairs to grab a belt for Chase, and then coming back down and putting on his shoes. As Chase was buckling his belt, Henrik set a pair of black dress shoes identical to his own over by Chase's feet, mentioning that they were for him to wear. Chase nodded, pulling them on, and as soon as they were both ready they hurried out the door and into Henrik's car.

The ride was pleasant, thankfully the lessened traffic saving them a bit of time. The pair talked and laughed and joked the whole ride through -- they were halfway to their destination before Henrik remembered to turn on the radio. They arrived at the restaurant just as the sun was setting. It made for a pretty sight as they both stepped out of the car.

The restaurant was prettier, though.

It was dimly lit and very, very classy. For one thing, the carpet leading to the check-in counter was red, and the nearby rope partitions were gold with red rope, so that was the first indication of how high-end this place was. Chase looked around in awe as Henrik went up to the ornate, wooden counter -- there seemed to be ornate wood everywhere -- and stated his name and the reservation. And soon Henrik was beckoning Chase along, effectively pulling him from his trance, as a waitress guided them to their table. Chase couldn't help but feel giddy as the waitress set the menus down at a small booth seat meant for two people. Chase always loved the booth seats. He wondered if Henrik remembered that when making the reservation.

"How do you like it so far, Chase? Is nice, yes?"

"This place is… wow." Chase was breathless. It's been so long since he was somewhere this fancy.

"Well, let us hope the food holds up." Henrik noted.

"Oh, for sure," Chase nodded, agreeing.

The waitress came by, asking for their order of drinks. Henrik and Chase both got the same thing -- Diet Coke. Chase wanted a glass of wine to fit the mood of the place, but decided he wouldn't have any alcohol since Henrik couldn't have any. In the meantime, the pair looked over the menu.

"Have you decided on what you want to eat, Chase?" Henrik asked.

"No idea," Chase answered. The menu was so… expansive. He was having trouble deciding. It had been so long since he'd ordered from a menu like this, on top of that. He didn't even know what he was in the mood for. He was thankful, however, that on today of all days he had an appetite. It was probably because he didn't eat breakfast, but still. Well, he at least knew what he didn't want, which was a hamburger. He's eaten enough of those.

"Hm… I think I will get…" Henrik hummed, adjusting his glasses as he looked over the menu. "Well, the veal parm looks good. Maybe I will get that."

"Mm, I still need longer to look, I think," Chase responded.

Just then, the waitress came by, dropping off a small loaf of bread and a tiny ramekin of butter, as well as two small plates -- along with their drinks, of course. Chase and Henrik thanked the waitress as she passed by.

"That smells so good…" Chase commented. It took all he had in him to keep himself from drooling. He was so hungry.

"Ooh, I am definitely having a piece. I assume you want one as well, Chase?"

"Yes, please."

Henrik smiled, cutting Chase a piece first and spreading butter on it, placing it on one of the plates and passing it to him, before cutting himself a piece of his own. Chase thanked him gratefully, picking up the bread and taking a bite and--

Oh.

Chase felt his eyes well up. One hand squeezed into a fist and he took in a breath through his nose as he chewed. Do not cry, Chase, he willed himself. Do not cry. It was just… so good. The bread was warm and lightly sweet and the butter was salty but not too salty and melted perfectly on the bread and god, he'd forgotten entirely what it was like to eat real food. He'd missed this desperately. All he'd known these past few months was cheap dollar-menu cheeseburgers and unsatisfying, tiny breakfast sandwiches.

"Are you okay, Chase?" Henrik asked, brows knitted in concern.

"'m fine," he spoke through a full mouth. He realized how impolite that was and swallowed. "I'm fine."

Henrik nodded, watching as Chase took a moment to compose himself before going back to eating. He understood, of course, after all he'd been through. He certainly wasn't judging him for it, but he did worry. And he wasn't oblivious. There were a lot of little hidden cues he's picked up on. From the scare over the phone this morning to how hopelessly sad he looked up until he got out of the shower, he knew that Chase needed him now more than ever. And Henrik would be there for him, he swore, until his dying breath. It's what Chase needs, and it's what he deserves.

Despite knowing what he wanted, Henrik had gone back to absentmindedly flipping through the menu. He spotted the salad section and perked up.

"Oh, Chase, did you want to order a salad with your meal?"

"Oh, yes please. I desperately need one of those. Something healthy for once after all the junk I've been eating."

Henrik laughed at Chase's response. He's gotten so mature over the years. At one point he'd gawk at getting a salad, and now he's completely on board with it. Henrik felt a strange sense of pride swell up within him at that.

The waitress came back over finally and asked each of them what they wanted. Henrik got a house salad with Italian dressing and he decided on the veal parm. Chase got a wedge salad (Henrik was sure it was the bacon bits that enticed him) and a steak with grilled vegetables on the side. Chase swore it was the most adult meal he's ever ordered at a restaurant -- usually he doesn't go for steak, but this time he felt he should get one. Just because. The waitress marked down their orders, thanked them, and left, heading to wherever the kitchen was, the pair assumed.

"Are you enjoying yourself so far, Chase?" Henrik asked.

"God, yeah," Chase nodded enthusiastically. "I'm probably gonna say this a bajillion times, but seriously, dude, thank you so much for taking me here."

"Oh, you are very welcome, Chase!" Henrik beamed. "It makes me happy to see you happy. And that is all I want. I just want you to be happy."

"God, dude, stop it, you're gonna make me start cryin' again!" Chase laughed, wiping his eyes. He seriously had no idea who blessed him to have a man like Henrik in his life, but he knew for certain he'd be nowhere without him.

Actually… without Henrik, he'd, quite literally, be dead. If Henrik wasn't in his life, who would have saved him? He doubted another doctor with his level of expertise and deft of hand even… existed. He owed this man his life and more. He wished there was a way to properly repay him, but there wasn't anything bigger than life itself he could give.

He'd definitely have to think of something.

For now, though, he spent his time enjoying Henrik's company. They talked about everything under the sun, they joked and laughed, and before they knew it, their food had arrived. It was funny how quickly time passed when spent with someone you're close to.

"Ooh, this looks delicious!" Henrik exclaimed.

"It looks like a lot," Chase commented, staring at the massive wedge salad and the huge steak. It was… very intimidating, to say the least. "No way in hell am I finishing all of this."

"Well, eat what you can and take the rest to go. Just… save room for dessert, hm?"

"Oh, duh. Like I would pass up dessert!"

Henrik laughed, shaking his head as he picked up his utensils and began to eat. He hummed pleasedly -- the food was very good, indeed! He'd definitely remember this place. Maybe all of them could go, once everything is back to normal and Jack is awake? That was a bittersweet thought.

Chase looked between the salad and the steak, trying to figure out which beast he should tackle first. He chose the steak, because he already knew what salad tasted like, but every restaurant makes steak differently. He picked up the steak knife, cutting off a piece and sticking it in his mouth.

As soon as the steak touched his tongue, everything hit him all at once. This wasn't just a measly piece of warm bread. No, this was real food. An actual meal. Something he hasn't had in months. All he'd eaten was fast food once or twice a day, if at all, depending on if he was hungry or not. And one of the things he missed the most was being able to go in his kitchen whenever he wanted and make himself something to eat, something he liked that wasn't just the same few things every day. Even when he was so depressed that he couldn't eat, he'd at least have something in the cabinets or fridge ready for him when he could. But he didn't have that anymore. He had no idea when he'd have that again. For another few months, maybe even longer, after tonight this could very well be his last true meal. After all of this, it was back to his normal. Back to suffering and drinking in the back seat of his car with the towels covering the windows so no one could see him crying, or in the forest by the little rock shrine he made with the picture of his ex-wife and youngest son placed delicately against its base.

He didn't want to live like that. He didn't want to suffer anymore. And yet… he had no choice. This was his life now, whether he wanted it or not.

"How do you like your food, Chase?" Henrik asked without looking up. After a moment too long he didn't hear a response, but he did hear Chase sniffle, which caused him to look up. At first, his brows furrowed in confusion. Chase was staring off into space and--

Wait.

Wait, shit, Chase was crying.

"Chase? Chase, what is it? What is wrong, my friend?"

Chase, hearing Henrik's voice, was pulled out of his trance. His breath hitched and he swallowed what was in his mouth.

"F-fuck…" He realized he'd started crying, though now he couldn't get himself to stop. "Fuck," he repeated, his voice nothing more than a shaky whisper. He propped his elbows up on the table, his hands holding up his head as he kept his head down. He grit his teeth, trying to hold back his sobs as best he could.

Henrik quickly rose, moving to sit besides Chase and pulling him close. Chase shivered, crying a little harder now. "Shhh, shh, shh, shh, shhh…" Henrik soothed. "I am right here. Let it out, Chase. You are okay."

Chase held on tightly to Henrik, weeping into his shoulder. He was trying his hardest to make himself stop -- especially since a fancy restaurant is not the place to be bawling your eyes out -- but more tears just kept coming. Especially with Henrik encouraging him to let it out. It was helping, sure, but… not in the way he wanted it to.

A waitress who just so happened to be rushing by glanced over at the pair and paused. She knew she was in a rush but she couldn't help but be concerned -- someone crying in a restaurant (who wasn't a child, anyway) wasn't a normal sight.

"Is he okay?" asked the waitress.

Henrik quickly looked up, turning towards the voice. "Hm? Oh, yes, my friend, he… he is fine. He is just… having a moment." he explained. "Um, he… has not had a proper meal in very long of a time, and the world has been very unkind to him, so I decided to treat him... you know, for his birthday, because it is the one day he deserves to be happy, if he cannot be every day."

"Oh… I see."

Chase swore he would never stop crying at this rate. He just held tighter onto Henrik. This man's compassion, his kindness… it was too much for him to handle sometimes. Or, rather, most of the time.

"But do not worry!" Henrik reassured. "He will be okay. With time, he will. He always bounces back. He just needs this moment, right now."

"You're a very kind man," replied the waitress. "This world needs more people like you."

"Oh, I am just doing what any logical human being would do," Henrik dismissed. "When someone needs me, I am there. Is my job as a doctor, and as a friend. And I want my friend here to know that."

"What are your names?"

"My name is Henrik," he answered, "And my friend's name is Chase."

Chase wanted to greet the waitress properly, or at least say something, but he was still trying to reel himself in.

"Well, it was very nice meeting you both. And, Chase? Stay strong, okay?"

Chase nearly broke down entirely right then and there. He managed to get out a shaky, teary "thank-you" before the waitress left. Henrik kept hugging him tight, not letting go, allowing Chase to recompose himself. And soon enough, his crying slowed into hiccups, and then he was just sniffling and wiping his eyes and Henrik was guiding him to take deep breaths to calm himself.

"Are you okay, Chase?" Henrik asked, his voice gentle, his tone similar to the one he used for younger patients but a lot more… personal.

"Y-yeah… I… I th-think so…"

"Good, good. Do you want to head to the restroom and clean yourself up a bit?"

"Yes, please," Chase nodded. He wanted to blow his nose more than anything at this point.

With a nod, Henrik got up from the booth and Chase followed right behind him. They headed for the restroom, finding it eventually, and Chase went to blow his nose and wipe his face. His eyes were still red and teary, but he felt calmer now. After a few more deep breaths, Chase washed his hands and both him and Henrik left to return to their table.

They found their food had cooled a bit since they left, but it was still warm, at least (aside from the salads, obviously), instead of burning hot. Henrik continued to eat his food, and Chase… he ate reluctantly at first, worried he'd start bawling again. But after a few bites he found he was fine. It was just that first bite that threw him for a loop, he figured. And so he relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy his meal.

"It's really good," Chase spoke up, his voice meek.

"Hm?" Henrik looked up, hearing Chase speak. He then registered what it was that he said. "Oh! Is it?"

"Yeah, it is. It's… the best thing I've had in ages." There was that melancholy again, boring a hole in his chest. He forced it down.

"I am glad to hear it. Very glad." Henrik gave Chase a warm, heartfelt smile. Chase returned it, but it wasn't as bright or as wide as it should have been. He was still feeling pretty down, Henrik could tell. He did expect, however, that an experience like this would be a bit overwhelming for Chase. His only hope was for Chase to have a good birthday, one he could look back on with contentment or even bittersweet joy instead of resentment or sadness or regret.

Chase decided to take a break from eating the steak, moving instead to tackle the salad. It took a little effort, but he managed to get a good forkful of it.

"Fucking vegetables, thank god," Chase muttered to himself.

Henrik, who had been sipping on his soda when he heard Chase's comment, quickly clapped a hand to his mouth and ducked his head away as he tried his hardest to control his laughter and willed his body to swallow the soda that hadn't already gone up his nose.

"What? What's so funny?" Chase asked through a full mouth, a small smile beginning to tug at the corners of his lips.

Henrik swallowed and started to cough, laughing in between breaths. "F-fuck, I-- I am sorry, just…" he coughed some more before clearing his throat. "That made me laugh very hard."

"Oh, what I said about the salad?"

Henrik nodded, already going back to giggling. Chase snorted.

"I mean, you know how fuckin' long it's been since I've had a fuckin' vegetable, man? Not even a baby carrot. Like, I need my greens, bro!"

Henrik was trying so hard and failing to contain his laughter. And seeing Henrik laugh made Chase laugh, too. And then they were both laughing and trying to reign themselves in so they could get back to eating before their food got any colder.

The rest of their dinner was spent laughing and joking and talking, with Henrik feeling relieved that Chase seemed to be in mostly good spirits again. Their waitress came over and offered boxes for their unfinished food; Henrik said yes, while Chase said that he had nowhere to keep it if he did. Plus, he wasn't one to just casually eat leftover steak, anyway. So the waitress brought back over a box for Henrik, and with that, all that was left for them to do was wait for the check.

Or… so they thought.

The pair were kind of just looking around in content silence when they heard it. Clapping, a lot of clapping, all in unison. They didn't pay much mind to it at first, until it grew louder. Closer. Chase and Henrik looked at each other in confusion. And suddenly they were surrounded by a dozen waiters and waitresses, and one of them was carrying a monster of an ice cream sundae, complete with brownies and fully-lit sparklers sticking out of the top. They set it down on their table and began to sing the restaurant's "happy birthday" song to Chase. They all cheered when they were finished and then dispersed, but not before Henrik caught the glance of the waitress who checked up on them earlier. She winked at him. Henrik knew immediately this was her doing. He looked over at Chase, watching him with that warm, parental gaze and gleaming eyes, and he saw Chase was tearing up again, but they were happy tears this time. And Henrik swore, this is the widest Chase has smiled in a long, long time.

"Ho-ly shit," Chase laughed. "Dude… you gotta help me finish this. There's no way I can do this on my own."

"Oh, with pleasure!" Henrik agreed.

"Yeah, grab a spoon!"

They both blew out the sparklers first before digging in. They hadn't planned on actually getting dessert here, but this sundae was far too good to pass up. Chase swore it was the best ice cream sundae he's ever had in his life. Henrik could easily agree. They never did end up finishing it, but they got a good way through before they both threw in the towel, at least. Finally, their waitress dropped off the check. Henrik, who was the one paying, immediately took it. He was pleased to find that the dessert was on the house, but the note written in pen at the very bottom is what made him smile.

"Aww…"

"What?" Chase asked, trying his hardest to fit one last bite of brownie in.

Without a word, Henrik slid the bill over so Chase could read it.

"Our entire staff wishes you well! Stay strong, Chase!" There was a little smiley face at the end.

For the third (and most likely not the last) time that night, Chase's eyes welled up. He bit his lip, smiling wildly. He really, honestly and truly was touched. They didn't have to do all that… and yet they did. That meant more to him than they would ever know. He took that copy of the receipt and folded it with care before sticking it in the front pocket of his pants. He'd stick this somewhere in his car, he decided. Somewhere where he'll always see it and remember this moment, remember those people who cared when they didn't have to.

Henrik paid for their meal, making sure to leave a very generous tip, and the pair got up and finally headed out, saying goodbye to the staff members they passed by and thanking them as they left. The night air was quiet and calm, albeit chilly. Chase felt that surreal feeling he always got when he headed into a building during the day and didn't come out until dark. He sighed when he got in the car, buckling his seatbelt and getting comfortable. Henrik did the same, just sitting there for a moment before turning the car on.

"Dude… even though I was a crybaby the whole time, that was the best restaurant experience I've ever had."

As much as Henrik wanted to validate him and say that he wasn't being a crybaby, that he was having valid emotions as a person dealing with trauma, he held off. Now wasn't the time for a therapy session. "They are getting a very good review, I will tell you that much!"

"More than worth the money, definitely," Chase agreed. He let his head hit the headrest with a sigh. "I am so full…" He realized then how long it had been since he felt full. Another contender for the "stuff Chase will no longer take for granted" list.

"Mm, agreed… I feel like I will be full for days. Weeks, even."

Chase snorted at that.

"Ready to head back?"

"Yes, please."

With a nod, Henrik started the car and off they drove, traveling down the highway. Thankfully there wasn't as much traffic now that it was getting late. Chase turned on the radio and on the way home they belted out stupid song after stupid song, laughing the entire time.

It was funny how much being with Henrik made him forget, Chase thought. He'd forgotten all of his troubles, his worries, and his plan. They would come back to haunt him, he knew, but right now, in this moment, none of that mattered. It was just him and Henrik, making the best of the time they had.

It didn't feel like any time at all had passed when they arrived back at Henrik's house. As soon as they got inside, though, they both shrugged off their jackets and kicked off their shoes with a sigh. Chase went to go sit on the couch, but Henrik stopped him before he could do so.

"Uh… Chase, could you… come to the kitchen for a moment?"

"Hm? Oh, sure." He did as such, though as soon as he saw Henrik duck into the fridge, he paled a little. "Oh, god, you didn't."

Henrik made a knowing face. "I, uh… wasn't expecting to have dessert at the restaurant," he explained sheepishly.

"Hen, I can't fit another bite into me. I'll explode."

"Pfft, do you think I am eating any of this now? Definitely not!" Henrik said with a laugh. "But… it is your birthday, and I did not want to go the day without singing "happy birthday" to you."

"Ah, gotcha. That I can do."

"I will grab the candles and get the lights. You go sit."

"Okay, will do."

Henrik did exactly that, grabbing the candles he bought and stuck them all into the cake -- one for every year Chase was alive. Quite a lot of candles for one cake, but he managed. Judging by the box, Chase knew it was a bakery cake, and his point was proved when he saw the words written in cursive on the top. It was a very nice cake, covered in vanilla frosting and with bright, primary colored sprinkles coated around the sides. It was decorated with red icing drizzling around the top edges and his name was written in blue. And then the candles were lit and the lights were dimmed and Chase was peering at Henrik's candlelit form through the darkness of the kitchen.

"Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday, dear Chase,

Happy birthday to you!"

Chase smiled, making his wish and blowing out his candles. He imagined his kids beside him, helping him out, and there was a longing pang in his heart. He didn't know what to wish for this year. There was so much he wished was better that it was hard to choose just one. So he wished for a better life, if not for him then for the others. He wished for things to get better and for it all to return to normal… whatever their "normal" was before all this happened.

Henrik smiled, turning the lights back on. He pulled the candles out of the cake, tossed them, and then closed the box and put the cake back in the fridge. They could have some tomorrow, he reasoned. Then, he turned to Chase.

Right. Time to come clean.

"Chase?"

"Hm? What's up?"

"Um… I… I must confess something to you," Henrik admitted.

Chase felt a twinge of worry at his words. Was it something bad? He hoped not. "Which is…?"

"The reason I wanted you to come over was… because I have a gift for you."

A gift? "What kind of gift?" Chase asked curiously.

"It's upstairs. Um… it's supposed to be a surprise, so I will take you to it. Take my hand, close your eyes, and follow me."

"O-oh, uh… okay." He almost hesitantly took Henrik's hand and held his other over his eyes, allowing Henrik to carefully guide him up the steps. He was led a good way down the upstairs hallway before Henrik stopped. Then there was the sound of a door being opened.

"You can open them now."

Chase opened his eyes, looking into the room, and his hands slowly went to his mouth.

It was Henrik's office, but… his desk and file cabinets were no longer there. Instead, it looked like a bedroom. A very well-furnished one, at that. A bed, nightstand, desk and chair, cabinets and drawers to store stuff in, familiar posters taped to the walls...

"It, um… took me a few months to move and reorganize my things to the lab downstairs and furnish this room how I wanted it to look," Henrik explained. "I wanted to tell you sooner but it wasn't ready until recently. But anyway, um… this… this will be your room from now on."

His room, his mind echoed. That meant… no more living out of his car. No more junk food every day. No more sleeping in the back seat and waking up sore. For the first time in months, he had a home. A roof over his head. A warm bed.

It was finally over. He was no longer homeless.

Chase fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. His breath hitched and he was crying, sobbing, reveling in the utter relief of knowing that he didn't have to return to how he was living. He didn't have to suffer like he was anymore.

For the first time in months, he was thankful he was alive. And for the first time in months, he didn't want to die.

Henrik crouched down besides Chase, rubbing his back in slow circles, although he couldn't help shedding a few tears himself, on behalf of his dearest friend.

"Happy birthday, Chase," Henrik said finally, his voice low and gentle in Chase's ear. "And welcome home."

Those final words only made him cry harder.

#alcoholism tw #suicidal ideation tw #jacksepticeye #chase brody #dr. schneeplestein #vio stormcaller #also i swear i still cant spell restaurant properly on my first try after all of this :')#ALSO also i started crying again while going back in to edit all the italics so now i need to go wipe my eyes again lmao

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khoicesbyk · 4 years

Text

A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and certain original characters, created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 2,630 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Song And Story Inspiration: A Dream-Mary J. Blige | Beautiful Monster-Ne-Yo | Lady In My Life-Marc Nelson

Tag List: @shewillreadyou @queenjilian @choiceslady @secretaryunpaid @aussieez @pixie88 @txemrn @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @lucy-268 @otherworldlypresents @choicesficwriterscreations

This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you. 😁😘

This series may contain spoilers. If you wish not to see spoilers, please do not read any further.

Chapter 4.) Beautiful Monster.

All my life.

And the hereafter.

I've never seen.

Seen one like you.

You're a knife.

Sharp and deadly.

And it's me.

That you cut into.

But I don't mind.

In fact I like it.

Though I'm terrified.

I'm turned on but scared of you…

Oh…

She's a monster.

Beautiful monster.

But I don't mind.

And I need her.

Said I need her.

Beautiful monster.

But I don't mind.

No I don't mind (I don't mind I don't I don't mind).

Naia stood frozen and at a loss for words as she stared at the man she’s been dreaming about.

“It can’t be! You can’t be real.” She stammered.

He looked deep in her eyes.

“This is real Beloved. I’m here.” He said to her.

She still couldn’t believe it.

“But how? You…you aren’t supposed to be real.”

His gaze was soft and she didn’t feel threatened by him. She was just confused and shocked.

“I have been waiting for you Beloved. Welcome home.”

“Home? You mean Hunt’s Peak? I’ve never been there. I literally just got here.”

“I know. Your uncle said you’d be here.”

“Uncle Zane told you I’d be here? I briefly talked to him before I left home.”

“Yes he told me and I couldn’t wait to meet you. May I?” He asked.

She stepped aside to let him in.

“What did my uncle tell you about me?” She asked.

“Well…he failed to say how beautiful you are.” He replied.

She bit her bottom lip and blushed.

“Thank you I think? I’m sorry I don’t even know your name.”

“My name is Roman.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Naia.”

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

And as strange it was to her she felt calm. She wasn’t scared of him. She was more curious than anything.

“It’s okay. But how did you know I was here?” She asked.

“I have eyes and ears everywhere. But one of the employees is a friend of mine and the manager knows your uncle.” He replied.

“So what are you like the sheriff or something?” She asked.

“Something like that. I protect the forest.” He replied.

“So you're a park ranger?” She asked.

“You could say that.” He replied.

The more she looked at him, the stronger this strange pull between the two grew. There was something about him. That was both thrilling and terrifying. But she felt like a moth to a flame.

In her eyes.

There's love and fire.

And my heart.

She's burning through.

But I don't mind.

In fact I like it.

Though I'm terrified.

I'm turned on but scared of you.

She's a monster (she's a monster).

Beautiful monster (beautiful monster).

Beautiful monster (beautiful monster yeah).

But I don't mind (I don't mind).

And I need her (and I need her).

Said I need her (said I need her).

Beautiful monster (whoa).

But I don't mind (I don't mind I don't I don't mind).

No I don't mind.

She invited him to sit down next to her on the bed. She wanted to know more about him. So she decided to test him.

“Tell me how far is town from here?” She asked him.

“It’s about an hour.” He replied.

“Good. I’ll be there later.”

“It is better for you to leave in the morning.”

“Why?” She asked.

“It’s dark and the road is very treacherous at night. Many dangers.” He replies.

“Dangers? What like zombies?” She asked.

“Yes. Something like that.” He replies.

She stared at him like he had lost his mind.

“That’s a joke right?” She asked.

“I never joke Naia.” He replies.

“Ooooooooooooookaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy…so you’re Mister Serious. Got it.”

The way he looked at her, made the blood rush to her cheeks. She loved it but didn’t want to admit it. At least not out loud.

“So do you always haunt a girl’s dream?” She asked.

“I’m not a magician if that’s what you’re asking.” He replies.

Just as she was about to ask him another question, she heard a howl.

“What was that?“ she started to ask before he answered quickly. “A wolf. It’s coming from the North.”

“How do you know?” She asked.

“I know these woods and mountains. I know what lives and thrives here.” He replies.

“Is there anything you don’t know?” She asked.

“I don’t know you.” He replies.

“Touché. So what is it you want to know?” She asks.

“Everything. I want to know you. Who are you Naia?” He replies.

“You don’t really want to know everything about me, do you?” She asks.

“Yes. Tell me.” He replies.

“You asked for it.”

When he smiled softly at her, she felt her heart flutter. There was something about him. She felt compelled to bare her soul to him. There she was looking at this strange man and telling him everything about herself. Her successes, her failures, her career, her fears, her joys she even told him about her former lovers.

“Fascinating. You are quite the remarkable woman.”

“Was it too much for you?” She asked shyly.

“No. I like learning about you. You’re not like any woman I have ever met.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Yes, I assure you that it is.”

Just then there was another howl. This one was different from the last. Roman stood up hastily and moved towards the door.

“I must go. I’m sorry.”

“Wait what? But I know nothing about you! How will I find you?” She asked.

He looked at her then held out his right hand. When she took his hand in her own, something sparked. She couldn’t explain it but she felt something deep within her bones. She couldn’t explain what this feeling was. What she didn’t know was that feeling is her bond with him. Soon, she found herself in his arms, gazing up into his eyes.

“Roman I…” she started to say before he silenced her with a kiss.

It was deeper, more intense and powerful than any kiss that she had ever experienced. It wasn’t like the kisses she felt in her dreams. It was real. It was happening. And she couldn’t get enough. When their kiss was over, she felt drunk. And she wasn’t trying to let him go.

“Please don’t go.” She begged.

“I must. But do not worry Beloved. You will see me again real soon.”

“You promise?” She asked.

“Yes Beloved. I promise, you’ll see me again. Especially after tonight.” He replies.

With one last long kiss, Roman was gone. And Naia’s heartbeat and mind were racing. She missed him. She needed him. She longed for him. She couldn’t wait to see and feel him again.

The next day Naia arrived at her uncle’s house and was happy to see him.

“Hi uncle Zane!” She said as greeted him.

“Hey sweetheart! It’s great to see you! Welcome to Hunt’s Peak! Let me look at you. Yup! You look just like your mother!” He said as they hugged.

“It’s good to be here.”

“Come on in the house! I got a pot of my world famous venison stew with your name on it.”

After eating and getting settled in her mother’s old room, she was sitting in the living room with her uncle.

“It’s great to have you here, Naia.”

“It’s good to be here. I’ve been dying to visit for ages.”

“Good I’m glad. I’m happy that Laurie let you come. How is she by the way?” He asked.

“About that…she doesn’t know that I’m here.” She replied.

“What do you mean your mother doesn’t know?” He asked.

“Her and daddy are in Paris for 2 weeks for their anniversary. I left after they did.” She replied.

Zane sighed heavily.

“Well that explains why you’re here. I should’ve known she’d never change her mind.”

“She mentioned that something happened. Something bad. And it was enough to make her leave and never look back. What happened, uncle Zane? Why did my mom leave?” She asked him.

Zane ran a hand through his hair and over his face before answering.

“Whatever she’s told you, she's right. Something bad did happen and I didn’t believe her. I didn’t protect her. She’s my sister and I should’ve known that she was telling the truth. But I didn’t. We got into an argument one day and I told her that she was lying. I shouldn’t have said that to her. 2 days later she was gone. And I haven’t seen her since. I’ve missed her you know?”

“I understand. I’m sure she misses you too. Even though she’d never say it out loud.”

He smiled softly at his niece.

“How’s your dad?” He asks.

“He’s good. His architecture business is really booming.” She replied.

“I remember when they met. No one was happy about them being together. Least of all me.”

“Daddy’s said something like that before. But he always said it’s because he was an outsider.”

“That’s partially true.”

“What do you mean partially? What’s the other part?” She asked.

“That’s a story for another time, I’m afraid.” He replied.

“Are you sure? You know you can tell me. I won’t be mad.” She asks.

“Yes Naia, I’m sure. You know? You should go to town. Meet the people. I’m sure that they’ll be a lot more fun than sitting in the house with me.”

“I actually met someone as a matter of fact. Met him yesterday.”

“You did? Who did you meet?” He asks, surprised by her revelation.

“Someone named Roman. He said that he was a friend of yours.” She replied clearly lying. But she wanted to know if he’d lie to her.

He swallowed hard and cleared his throat.

“Yes I know him. He’s well known all around town. I’m surprised you met him already. I didn’t think you two would meet so soon.” He replied.

Naia instantly picked up on the slightly nervous tone in her uncle’s voice. But she decided to keep that to herself as a mental note.

“Besides stare at the woods all day and night, what’s there to actually do around here?” She asked.

“Go down to Buck’s! Best bar and pool hall in West Virginia!” He replied enthusiastically.

“I guess it’s settled. To Buck’s I go!”

After changing, Naia headed to Buck’s. She walked into Buck’s and took a seat at the bar before looking around. She saw people dancing, playing pool, playing poker, drinking and otherwise having a good time. As she turned back to the bar to order a drink, there was a tap on her shoulder. She turned to her left and saw a gorgeous black woman sitting on the stool next to her.

“Hi! You must be Naia!” She said to Naia.

“Ummmmmm yeah…how did you know?” She asked the woman.

“Your uncle called the bar and said you’d be here. I’m Layla. I own the place.” Layla replied.

“Ohhh okay.”

“Yeah so what can I get you?” Layla asks.

“Whiskey double.” Naia replies.

“Coming right up.”

It wasn’t until Layla stood up that Naia noticed that she’s pregnant.

“Oh my goodness! You’re pregnant!”

“Yup! This little one is nearly ready to make their debut.” She said before walking behind the bar.

“Are you sure you should be behind the bar?” Naia asks.

“As sole owner and proprietor? Yeah. I’m fine.” Layla replies as she hands Naia her drink.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Sooooo how do you like town so far?” Layla asks.

“It’s okay. I’m a city girl so this is an adjustment for me.” Naia replies.

“I think it’ll grow on you.”

“You sound confident. How long have you lived here?” Naia asked.

“My whole life. Met my man here too.” Layla replies.

“Ohhh! Didn’t know you were in a relationship.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t live in town but he loves me and our little one just the same.”

“Well that’s good.”

“Why are you still sitting here?” Layla asks.

“Because I don’t know anyone and it would be awkward to just walk up to random strangers?” Naia replies.

“No it wouldn’t. Everyone here is friendly! As the boss of this place I say go mingle!”

Just as Naia got ready to go mingle with others, Roman walked in and Buck’s went silent. He was flanked by 3 men and a woman. When Naia locked eyes with him, she felt her heart and the butterflies in her stomach flutter. He nodded to his crew to take a seat then he turned his attention back to Naia. As he walked towards her, Naia felt like she could attach herself to him.

“I better go fill their orders.” Layla said which seemingly snapped Naia out the trance she was in.

“Huh? What? You say something?” Naia asks.

“Yeah. I’ll be right back.” Layla replied.

Naia watched her walk over towards Roman’s crew before turning her attention to him. He was gorgeous to her. When he sat down beside her, she felt her knees turn into jello.

“Well hello there.”

“Hello yourself.”

Her heart was doing backflips as she looked at him.

“I went by your uncle’s house and you weren’t there.”

She was taken aback.

“You did?” Naia asks, wanting to see where these questions were going.

“Yes I did. I promised you that I would see you again.” He replies.

“Yes you did but I didn’t think it would be today.”

His eyes roamed up and down her body and it a shiver running down her spine.

“Why are sitting here by yourself Naia?” He asked.

“I was gonna go play a few rounds of pool but then you and your friends showed up.” She replied.

He looked at her with an eyebrow raised. He looked as if he was taking her answer into consideration.

“Dance with me.”

She stared at him.

“Dance with you? Like now?!” She asked.

He never answered, he just stood up and held out his hand. As of on command she took his hand. He led her to the dance floor as Beautiful Monster by Ne-Yo played in the background.

Naia tried to make sense of what was happening but the more she danced with him, the more she didn’t care. She felt free with him. And ever since their kiss all she wanted was to be close to him.

As the song swelled, he spun her around then pulled her back flush to his chest. She loved the feeling of his arms around her as they danced.

Playing with my heart, mmm.

And she's playing with my mind.

And I don't mind, I don't mind.

No I don't mind, I don't I don't mind.

And I don't mind.

(I don't mind I don't I don't mind) Said I don't mind.

(I don't mind I don't I don't mind) And I don't mind.

(I don't mind I don't I don't mind) Beautiful monster.

She's a monster (she's a monster).

Beautiful monster (beautiful monster).

Beautiful monster (ooh).

But I don't mind (but I don't mind).

And I need her (and I need her).

Said I need her (said I need her).

Beautiful monster (beautiful monster).

But I don't mind (ooh).

No I don't mind.

(I don't mind I don't I don't mind) no I don't mind.

(I don't mind I don't I don't mind ooh) no I don't mind.

Everything in that moment with her felt right. But soon she’d discover that she’d wind up getting more than she ever bargained for.

#choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #khoicesbyk #choices fanfiction #fanfic #wolf bride

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tolkien-fics · 4 years

Text

White As Snow, Red As Blood 2/2

Part One

Word Count: 1,681

Pairing: None

Trigger Warnings: Toxic stepmother, attempted murder, jealousy, Indis is the evil step mother and possibly had self esteem issues.

Plot: Part 2 of 2. Based on the fairy-tale of Snow White. Reader is the younger twin sister of Feanor, and her life comes crashing down one day when Indis attempts to get rid of her. No true love shall rescue Reader, for no other love is stronger than a parents love.

A/N: So I decided to edit the ending of part one due to another idea I had, just thought I’d point it out to avoid confusion.

“Y/n, why does Feanor hate us?” Fingolfin asked. He looked like a teenager to humans, but any elf would know he had only just reached the age of fifty.

You looked up from your writing, expression sympathetic.

“He does not hate you, little brother. He just has a lot to deal with.”

Fingolfin hummed. “He always does.”

Before you had the chance to reply, you heard hurried footsteps and you was faced with Irímë. Her blond, wavy locks looking disheveled.

“Mother calls for you, Y/n!”

“Very well.” You rose from your seat and gave both of your half siblings a friendly smile. “Do not fret, you are much loved here.” You said before taking your leave.

“Y/n!” You heard Indis yell your name before you had the chance to reach the door. But it didn’t sound like she was calling from the chambers, more like the dressing quarters next door. You knocked and entered with a curtsy.

“You requested my presence, my queen?”

Indis nodded, “Yes, dear. Come closer.” She beckoned her hand.

You took a breath and approached your step mother, letting out a small gasp when she stroked your hair.

“You have grown to be a fine young lady, dear. I have something for you.” She walked to the dressing table and took a piece of ribbon.

“Your father wishes to get you a gift, a fine piece of jewellery for a lovely princess. But he needs your measurements first.” She showed you the ribbon. “Turn around.”

You did as instructed, feeling Indis places the ribbon around your neck. It was gentle at first, feeling the material adjust here and there.

But then she started pulling it tighter and tighter. You gasped for air, a hand around your throat.

“C...can’t...b...breathe.” You gasped out, eyes watering as your surroundings faded to black.

Your body fell to the floor, the ribbon coming undone. Indis waited for a few moments, nudging your body with her foot. When you didn’t move or make a sound, she screamed and ran out of the room.

“Princess Y/n fainted! She’s not breathing!”

The next time you woke up, you was surrounded by your siblings and father in your room.

Finwe breathed a sigh of relief, kissing your forehead. “My child, what happened?”

You blinked the grogginess away. “Indis...the queen...she-“. You was cut off by Finwe.

“She called for help.” He smiled at you. “She was worried for your health, you was not breathing.”

You chose not to speak of what happened, only humming and relaxing. But you couldn’t forget that she had tried to kill you.

“Sister, are you well?” Feanor entered the room, came to your side and took your hand. You couldn’t help the gentle smile.

“I’m well Feanor, thank you.” You saw him gritting his teeth, and you knew what he was thinking. That queen Indis had purposefully harmed you. Part of you agreed, but the other part of you thought that she didn’t realise her own strength and panicked.

But your mind went for the latter. Was there really any way for someone to pull that tight on accident? You wasn’t convinced, but you didn’t say a word. You wanted your father and siblings to be happy, and the news would risk that if not cause a stir.

You were kept on bed rest for the next day, healers coming and going and servants bringing you food. You would have felt lonely if Feanor didn’t continue to visit, spending all day by your side.

“I apologise for not believing you sooner, Feanor.” You apologised. “She did try to kill me.”

Feanor sighed and took your hand. “I did not believe she would stoop to such levels.”

You sighed and shook your head. “Neither did I. What did I do to offend her so?”

Feanor looked down, letting go of your hand. He walked to the window and looked down at Irímë and Finarfin playing in the courtyard.

“She is jealous. She is not good at heart like you. Atar also favours us, and always has done, though he loves our siblings.” He came to a quick conclusion. “She sees you as a threat.”

“What can I do about it?” You asked your twin brother, watching his movements as you sat up in bed.

“You could go to King Thingol and Queen Melian.” He suggested. “Though, Atar will be worried when he discovers your disappearance.”

You hummed, “What if we get Atar to call them here? We could explain the issue to them. Surely they are more likely listen to us.” You spoke, lying back down in bed. “I fear what Indis will do next.”

Feanor instantly came to your side, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

After a lot of convincing, Finwë invited King Thingol and Queen Melian to the Kingdom from Doriath. Along with them came Lúthien, an elvish child not much younger than Findis.

You and your siblings lined up in the hall, Finwë and Indis sat on their throne. In time, you all bowed to the royal visitors.

“It is an honour to be of your acquaintance.” Feanor spoke up.

“Oh, your children are lovely, your majesty.” Melian said with a king smile.

“Thank you very much. As is Lúthien, Queen Melian.”

Thingol took in your appearance and smiled. “Your daughter is the image of the late Queen Miriel.”

Indis scowled from her throne at you upon hearing those words, becoming even more jealous when Finwë agreed.

It was nearing dinner, and you decided to sit and have a conversation with Melian while Thingol was talking with your father, and Lúthien spending time with your half siblings.

“She is out to kill me, your majesty.” You said, letting out a breath you didn’t know you was holding. “She choked me with a ribbon, she was nearly the cause of my demise. Please Queen Melian, help me.”

Melian listened with sympathy, “I can certainly keep an eye out. She may not do so in the presence of company. But if she does so, the Valar will punish her dearly.”

You hoped she was right.

Two days had come and gone rather quickly. Indis didn’t say a word to you, or acknowledge your presence. The queen was annoyed that Thingol and Melian were around, as she couldn’t find a way to remove herself from their conversations. Her rage stewed in the pit of her stomach.

On the third day, she gave into the extreme emotions with a plan.

As your step-mother made her way down silent corridors and stairs, she scowled to herself.

“I need to rid of that brat, Y/n.” She growled, fists clenched.

Indis went to the basement where she knew she wouldn’t be caught. In her hand she held a blood red apple, in the other a vial of poison.

“This time there will be no mistakes.” She didn’t hesitate to pour the poison on the apple.

It was nearing dinner, and you already felt hungry for a light snack after studying in the library. You headed to the kitchens, smiling at the servants.

“Princess.” The cook bowed when he saw you enter.

“It smells good.” You sniffed the air with a grin. “Have you got a little snack?”

The cook chuckled, “There’s some apples in the basket on the table.”

You spotted the ripe, red apples in the basket. They must have been freshly picked, and the smell was divine. You picked one up, and took a bite as you made your move towards the door.

As soon as you chewed and swallowed, you felt your throat closing up. You dropped the apple, gasping for air as you struggled. You heard voices calling out, but they sounded distant, fading out to nothing as you fell lifeless.

“Enchanting mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of the land?” Indis asked while brushing her hair. She had just heard the news that you was found, the healers presumed you as good as dead.

“Though Y/n was fair, she breathes no more. You, my queen, are the fairest of all.”

Indis laughed, “That is better.”

Your body was placed on your bed, hands positioned to hold a bouquet of roses. Finwë had been crying over you, his eyes blood shot. He wouldn’t allow his children in the room, he didn’t want them to see. But he did make them aware of your passing.

“May I enter?” Melian’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. Finwë could only make a sound, sobs threatening to come up again.

She took this as a yes and quickly entered the chambers, closing the door behind her. “Y/n confided to me before her passing that Queen Indis was planning to kill her.”

“That isn’t possible.” The king snapped.

“Or maybe it is, and you wish to let it be.” Melian added. “Y/n told me of the attempted assassination. Indis tried to kill her before, with a ribbon.”

Finwë took a few moments to think while he stroked your hair. Yes, it was all starting to make sense. How Indis has grown hateful of you as you grew, how his wife would disappear and not long after you had been in harms way.

He broke down, allowing his tears to flow freely. “I am sorry, my child!” He wept, mentally begging Eru and the Valar to forgive him for his ignorance.

“I love you, Y/n. My sweet child.” He sniffled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Melian stood by and watched, bowing her head in respect. Being a Maia, she knew that it was not your time to leave for the halls of Mandos.

Finwë didn’t seem to notice your slight movements, the flowers falling off the bed as you moved. When he met your gaze, and it registered in his mind that your eyes were open, did he take you into a strong hug.

“Atar!” You giggled, returning the hug. How he longed to hear your voice again.

“My daughter, you are alive.” He rocked back and forth while holding you.

“What of Indis?” You asked.

“She won’t hurt you again.” Was all Finwë managed to say through his joyful crying.

#the hobbit #lotr #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #lotr elves #lotr x reader #middle earth #middle earth x reader #finwe #feanor #indis #fingolfin #findis #thingol #melian #luthien #irime #feanors sister #twin sister of feanor

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