#one small step for them one giant leap for me.....

[teaspacebar]

spiced chai

pairing: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader

summary: you've been living in chicago for about a year, and you're suddenly managing the coffee shop in the well beloved bookstore, nan's. you meet carmen berzatto on a not-so-good day. you're thrust into the everchanging societal landscape that is making friends in your 20s..

word count: ~9.7k

warnings: language, depictions of mental illness, barista!reader, afab!reader (but tried to be as neutral as possible), neurodivergent!reader, they don't kiss, could be read as platonic tbh but there's crumbs in there if you look, takes place over the course of a few months, probably doesn't follow canon fully (i'm not caught up yet forgive me)

a/n: *dumps this here and runs* but actually this piece of writing appeared in my brain and i've been picking away at it for a couple of months. i feel like i've put more of myself into this fic than with anything else i've written, so this is definitely more of a self insert (pls be kind or don't read if that's not your vibe). i'm queer, non-binary, and autistic and i just wanted to insert that into this space. i feel like there's more to explore here, so i might write more for this if i feel so inclined.

Meeting Carmen Berzatto was not on your to-do list for Tuesday morning.

Not that having to run down to the nearest corner store to grab milk - since the milk fridge was on the fritz…again - at 4am was in your plans either. It always seemed like one step forward, three giant leaps back with the little shop on the corner you basically called home. It was weird, to be thrust into leadership as your manager made an abrupt exit. 

The small bookstore, with an even tinier coffee shop, had been your place of work for the last year or so. You loved it. The people were great, and Nan, the shop owner, was absolutely lovely. She was getting up in her years, but the genuine care she had for the employees made all the difference. She put her trust in you to run the cafe, saying “You have the experience, and the care you have for people shows. I know this. Everyone knows this. Now you just have to see it - have confidence.”

“Confidence my ass,” you mutter, carrying five gallons of milk around the corner.

What happens next might have been considered the beginning of a rom-com, but you’re a realist, and the world is shitty.

There’s a crash, and the distinct sound of three of the five gallons of milk dropping onto the sidewalk. You stare, watching in slow motion as the milk forms into a river, dripping off the sidewalk into the gutter.

The person who ran into you curses, “Shit — fuck, sorry, I—I wasn’t looking where I was…dammit.”

You grip the other two jugs in your arms, blinking out of the haze to let out a hysterical laugh. “Great…cool cool.” Cold plastic bites into your fingers, and you take a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, what else was gonna happen?” You finally look up to see the one you collided with. The man looks extremely uncomfortable, foot tapping like he wants to bolt. Plastering on a smile you shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m the one who thought carrying five gallons of milk would be fine.” You ramble on, trying to ease his nerves, “I mean — why would I drive, like, thirty seconds. Park, get the milk, come all the way back. Seemed stupid…but now there’s milk in my socks.” You grimace, fighting the urge to chuck the remaining jugs of milk in the street so you could also hurl your milk-soaked shoes and socks after them. It makes the ache in your chest sharpen.

“Here, where are you —“

You cut him off, “No, no, it’s okay. I got it, thank you.” You gesture to the door that’s just a few feet away from you. “This is me, anyway.” You adjust your hold on the milk, brushing past the man to pull open the door. You catch it with your hip, not daring to look back as you head behind the counter. You release a sigh, setting the bane of your existence on the black speckled marble. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes. You shake out your arms, biting your lip. “Okay, asshole, let’s get your shit together.” You quickly put the milk into the small fridge below the bar and walk to the back. The squish of your socks curdles your stomach, and you breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell. You take off your shoes, throwing them into a plastic bag to take home. Tossing your socks into the garbage, you grab your replacement sneakers and socks from your cubby. It wasn’t the first time you’ve dropped something on your shoes, it wouldn’t be the last.

You take your time in the back. You had gotten to the shop around 4am, unable to sleep. You were messing around with recipes, seeing if there was a possibility of baking some of the food in the cafe fresh, instead of outsourcing. It was something you put on your own plate, and you didn’t want to disappoint Nan. You had shown up early, looking to try out some muffins, and noticed the fridge had been hovering at sixty degrees all night. You’ll have to grab some more milk before the day starts, but that could be a problem for 8am you.

Walking through the swinging doors, you jump as you see someone at the bar counter. Pressing a hand to your fluttering heart, you finally take in the man that had run into you earlier. A mop of curly hair on his head, white tee, very blue eyes…and standing behind eight gallons of milk.

“Um…” you look between the milk and him a few times.

“The…uh – the door was unlocked. Figured I owed you one.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“How’d you even get it all here?” 

“Made two trips.” His gaze snaps back to you as you laugh, this time more genuine. “Fridge go out, or somethin’?” You’re still staring at him like he has two heads, and he rambles on, “Sorry for just…barging in. I used to go to this place…when I was kid. My sister and I would grab whatever pastries they had left for the day. And, yeah, we’d just sit, read random shit. I work at the restaurant just down the street…’s why I ran into you. Wasn’t paying attention – sorry, again.”

Suddenly, it all clicks. “You own The Bear.”

“Uh, yeah – yeah, I do.”

You feel nervous, out of the blue. Nan hadn’t stopped talking about the Berzatto’s, and Natalie had become a regular while the restaurant was being remodeled. You’re sure you’d seen other employees come in as well, for reading material. You vaguely remember talking to a very sweet man about baking, as he carried a ton of cookbooks in his arms.

You knew Carmen Berzatto, but only through the words of others – and the research you did late one night because you were nosey. To have him standing in the bookstore you worked at, for him to have gotten you milk, is sending you for a loop. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you begin to put the milk in their new home. You really need to call the refrigerator guy again. 

“That’s so cool,” the words fall from your mouth, others staying in your head. 

It's insane that someone like him is even speaking to you. He’s around the same age as you; He owns a restaurant and you’re barely able to run a tiny coffee bar in a bookstore. You’re an idiot who dropped milk onto the sidewalk. Why didn’t you just take the car? You should’ve just taken the car. Now Carmen fucking Berzatto has bought you milk at 5am because he feels bad for you. How pathetic. Call the fucking refrigerator guy.

“Thanks…for the milk.” You back away from the counter, gesturing behind you, “Lemme grab some money from the cash box real quick.”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s really fine, you didn’t have to go out of your way. I’ll be right back.” The itch creeps its way up your spine, and you push through the door as a shudder passes through you. You shake out the twitch, going and grabbing the cash box. You do mental math, trying to see how much you should give him. Did he even need the money? “Idiot,” you chide yourself. Today was not the day for your brain. 

Snagging a twenty and a ten, you rush back out to the bar, only to find the store empty. A groan escapes through your teeth, and you clench the cash in your hands, crumpling it. You walk to the front door, peering out to see if you can spot the chef. He must’ve made a quick getaway. As you turn to get prepped for the day, you spot a brochure on the counter, far away from its home of the stand at the front of the bookstore. Eat Your Way Through Chicago! 

Scribbled on the front is a phone number, and the words:

Fridge  Ask for Fak Say Carm sent you

“Fucking fuck.” You whisper, a smile creeping on your face against your will, “Asshole.”

It’s later in the week when you hear the bell attached to the front door – ding! You poke your head up from where you're arranging some alternative milks under the counter, seeing a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Natalie!” You pop up, an easy grin appearing on your face. “Half-caff?”

She nods, “Please.”

“How are you?” 

“Oh, you know.”

You ring her up quickly, then grab a pitcher to steam some milk for her latte. Natalie walks away from the counter to browse some books. The steam wand whirs, and you watch the vortex inside the pitcher. You touch the sides every so often, waiting for it to get to the right temperature. Making drinks is all muscle memory now, and you tamp the espresso grounds into the portafilter with precision. Wiping the excess from the lip, you lock it into the machine and press the shot button. As the shot pulls, you wipe down the steam wand with a wet cloth. 

“Is this any good?” Natalie has come back over, holding up a book with a half-naked man on the front.

You laugh, “It’s a Nan recommendation, so…” The shots are poured into the paper cup, and you swirl the milk into it, doing a quick tulip design. You sprinkle a little cinnamon over the top, before placing it in front of the woman.

“Smutty then, for sure.” Natalie laughs, then does a little excited gasp when she sees the latte art. “It looks so good every time!” 

“Thanks,” you reply, “Gets covered by the lid, but it’s fun to practice.”

“Too bad you don’t have for-here mugs,” she says thoughtfully.

“Ever the idea-haver! There'd be more spills to clean up – Nan would lose her mind if any books got ruined.” You point to the book still in her hand, “You want me to ring you up for that?” It was early enough in the afternoon that the only other person here was a part-timer, Jack, somewhere between the shelves stocking books. You had convinced Nan to upgrade to a different register system (which ended up saving money in the long run), so you’re able to ring up both books and café products at your register. 

She shakes her head, sighing. “I barely have any time to read, these days. I was thinking about trying out audiobooks? I used to listen to them at my old job, but it’s way too loud in the kitchen for that to work out.” The latte goes to her mouth, a pleasant hum leaving her as she takes a sip. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, Natalie.”

She squints at you, “It’s Nat, c’mon.” A big conspiratorial grin makes its way onto her face, “So, I heard that you got some help with your fridge.”

A sharp pain twists in your chest. “Oh, um…yeah.” You let out a soft chuckle, “It’s working, which is great. Neil was a big help.”

“He said you made him the best hot chocolate he’s ever had,” Natalie taps the counter with her pointer finger twice. “Said he didn’t know how you got his number, though.” 

You shrug, wiping down the counter, “Nan had it. And the usual guy wasn’t calling me back.” Neil had told you the exact same thing, both about the drink and the number. Something had held you back from saying where you got the number from. Embarrassment, maybe? It felt weird, feeling like you owed anyone favors, or that things would be unbalanced. People usually never give without looking to receive.

“Frankie, right? He’s an asshole. Overcharges for everything.” Natalie doesn’t push you for answers, something you’re grateful for.

“Right! He disappeared one time and said he’d ‘be right back’ and then was gone for like, two hours! And he added that to his hourly!” The two of you giggle at the shittiness of people for a minute, when a ping causes Natalie to pull her phone from her pocket.

“I should run.” She reaches into her purse, and puts a five into your tip jar. “Thanks again!” 

As she turns to go, you call out her name. “Would you - maybe - I have some extra muffins. The place we get them from gave us some of the wrong ones…or they’re a tad over baked, or something. I can’t sell them. Would you wanna take them with you?”

“That’s so sweet of you! Yeah, I’m sure they’ll get eaten up.”

You grab the box of muffins, handing them over to her, “Thanks.”

“Thank you, babe.” She leaves with a smile, and you look down to brush the flour off your apron. 

“Hey, guys, I got some goodies!” Natalie sets the box of muffins on the table, where everyone is seated for family meal. 

Neil immediately grabs the box, pointing to the sticker on the top, “You went to Nan’s? Man, I could use a hot chocolate right now.” 

“I’m sure you can walk over there and order one, my love.” Natalie replies, waving for him to put the box back on the table.

Marcus snags two muffins, handing one to Sydney who is sitting on his right. Taking a bite, he stops chewing, eyebrows raised. “Dude,” he nudges the girl next to him.

“Dude,” Syd parrots, popping some muffin into her mouth. “Wait, woah.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” 

“Nat, where did you get these?” Sydney calls to the woman now sitting at the end of the table. The muffins are passed down the rest of the table.

Marcus has started dissecting the muffin, “Macadamia nuts, sick.”

“Oh they’re from Nan’s just down the corner!” She tells them how you offered them to her since they were the wrong ones from a vendor and possibly over-baked.

Syd snorts, “Over-baked? These are perfect!”

“What’s perfect?” Carmy walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Bear, come eat!” Natalie waves him over, pulling him into the seat next to hers. “You’ve been at it all morning, take a minute, okay?” She gives him a look that tells him not to argue, and he huffs in response, but does as she says.

“What’s perfect?” He asks again, taking the muffin box from Sweeps as it’s passed to him. As the cinnamon crumble topping hits his taste buds, he leans back in his chair. “Shit.”

“That’s what we’re saying!” 

Syd and Marcus begin talking over one another, the dull roar of family making its home in Carmy’s ears. He has another bite of muffin, thumb swiping over the sticker atop the box.

Nan’s Books & Brews

Simple lettering, surrounding a doodle of a coffee cup sitting on an open book.

“When did they,” he clears his throat as he leans closer to Nat, “when did they start doin’ stuff like this?”

Natalie purses her lips, “Not sure, honestly. They only had that small coffee machine and that plastic pastry case when we were growing up, remember? I think they added the actual coffee bar right before Covid?” Carmy nods, looking out the windows, a curdle in his stomach.

“A lot’s changed,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Nat sighs, a hand over her stomach, “a lot has.”

A few weeks go by, as uneventful as they can be. You try out more recipes, and the staff of Nan’s is always sent home with one treat or another. Muffins, cinnamon rolls, croissants (which were a bust), and the like. Natalie is still a regular, and Neil has shown up to save your ass more than once. The brochure with his number on it taunts you from where it’s stuck up on the corkboard in the back.

Which is what has led you to standing in front of The Bear, a joe-to-go in one hand, paper bag in the other. An envelope burns in the inner pocket of your flannel jacket. Steeling your nerves, you knock on the door. Some yells are heard from inside, nicknames getting passed around like it’s a holiday dinner. You see a man walk towards you, in a nice suit, and he opens the door.

“Can I help you?” It’s not said unkindly, but there’s a look in his eyes that’s making you nervous. 

“Coffee delivery?” You say sheepishly, holding up the coffee traveler by its cardboard handle.

“Richie, who’s at the - hey!” Natalie immediately smiles when she sees you, and you sigh a breath of relief. Things were easy with her; she had this amazing way of comforting you without even trying.

“Hi,” you wiggle your fingers, still keeping hold of the objects in your hands. “Wanted to say thanks for all the help Neil’s been giving me, and when Nan found out, she insisted I bring over some coffee for the team, so…”

“You workin’ at Nan’s?” The guy - Richie - asks.

“For the past year or so, yeah.” You reply, thanking Natalie as she grabs the paper bag from you.

“Let them in, Richie, c’mon.” She presses on his chest, causing him to back up with his hands in the air. “Come in! I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come by for a tour.” You follow behind her, taking in the layout of the place. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a sense of awe falls over you. She has you set the coffee traveler on the bar, letting you take the paper bag from her hands. You pull out a cup holder with two cups in it.

“One half-caff french vanilla latte for you and…a hot chocolate for Neil.” As if by magic, Neil pops through the door to the kitchen.

“For me?!”

You chuckle as he pulls you into a hug. When he pulls away, he grabs his cup with a happy sound, rushing back into the kitchen when “Fak!” is yelled.

“The fuck Fak get a coffee for?” Richie frowns, causing you to bristle. Natalie swats at him, beginning to explain as you continue to walk around the restaurant. As you pass by a wood table, your fingers tap on it, the sound echoing in your ears. It sends a shiver through you, and a small smile appears on your lips. 

Natalie calls out to you, tearing your gaze back to her. People have begun to swarm around the bar, placing food on it, and your coffee is suddenly surrounded by things that smell amazing. “Did you want to eat with us, babe?” Attention turns to you, and the itchiness in your limbs reappears with a vengeance.

 A tall man, wearing a beanie, grins, “Hey, those muffins were amazing, by the way.”

You sputter, “Oh. Um—“

“Tell the chef, or baker — whoever,” he laughs at himself. “They were fire.”

Warmth rises in you, “Yeah, I’ll pass it on.”

“Babe, lunch?” Natalie says again, louder this time. More of the staff have begun digging into their meals.

“No, it’s okay!” The corner of your mouth curves up in a small smile, this one less genuine than before. You begin to back up towards the door, a gnaw of guilt in your gut as Natalie frowns. 

“Cousin! Food!” Richie yells out, followed by laughter from everyone else.

“I’m coming!” A familiar figure bursts through the kitchen door, “You don’t gotta yell like an asshole.”

Carmen Berzatto stops in his tracks when he sees you; the envelope in your pocket burns hotter. You look down at your shoes, but they just remind you of the milk dripping down the sidewalk.

“Carm,” Natalie introduces you, “they work at—“

“Nan’s.” Everyone chimes in, and you have to stop yourself from flinching. You look over at Carmy, eyes meeting.

There’s a moment where you feel like you’re going to get swallowed whole. The pipes are going to burst and water will fill up the room and you’re going to drown.

You walked straight into a den of hungry beasts, and you’re just a measly rabbit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Natalie’s words are muffled in your ears, but you manage to shake your head.

“I have someone from books covering me, and they barely know how to work the espresso machine.” You force a laugh. It grates against your vocal chords. “It was nice meeting you guys, though.” With a meek wave, you turn on your feet and speed out the door. Rounding the corner, you keep walking until you’re sure they can’t see you. Veering into the alleyway behind the restaurant, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the brick. 

You press your thumb into the palm of your hand. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. It’s over before it starts, but your chest remains tight. A reminder, which will eventually dissipate once you're back in the shop.

The coffee bar, your shield; apron, your armor. 

A door opening causes you to jump, startled. Your eyes meet blue, widening like you’ve been caught. “Sorry! I was just–” You push off the brick.

Carmen seems just as surprised as you, “No, s’fine.” He clears his throat, as the two of you settle into silence.

A fwip of a lighter. Four seconds. An exhale of smoke.

You’re unsure if you should leave, but it’s like the bottoms of your shoes are stuck to the ground. “Did you-” He starts, lifting up his hand that holds a lit cigarette.

You shake your head, “No, but - um, thanks.” Your fingers twitch, and you reach to pull the envelope from inside your jacket. Something that appears so insignificant, held out in the space between you. When he just stares, you wave it a bit, until he takes the envelope with his free hand.

“What’s this?” 

“Cash, for the milk you bought.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“I did.” You bounce on your heels, “I should actually get going this time. Just wanted to give you that but…” He doesn’t respond, something you’re getting used to. You wonder where the man who rambled about reading with his sister at Nan’s went, but decide now is the best time to make your escape. As you start to walk toward the street, you turn, “The restaurant looks great, by the way. Good luck with the opening.”

“Good luck with the opening.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

"Let it rip, Bear."

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“-a complete waste of fucking time.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“I’m really sorry you feel that way, Carm.”

Natalie invites you to Friends & Family.

You don’t go.

The next month flies by. Marcus, Richie, and Syd have joined your little group of regulars. Richie even brings his daughter, Eva, whenever he’s able. She’s a joy and absolutely hilarious to have around. Richie has grown on you, the rough edges of him softening after a few cortados.

One night, he had rushed into the shop, Eva in tow, all but begging you to watch her for a few hours. He was supposed to be off for the day, to spend time with his daughter, but they’re understaffed at The Bear. A few weeks in, which confused you, but questions weren’t asked. You said yes - obviously - and had Eva help you with little things around the shop, until you close. The two of you bonded over a shared love of Taylor Swift while making muffins. By the time Richie came to pick her up, Eva was tuckered out in a loveseat, patchwork blanket tucked up to her chin.

“I owe you one,” Richie had whispered, holding his daughter in his arms.

You shook your head, “You deserve to have time with her.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, bring it up with the Bear himself.”

You weren’t planning on it. The man is barely on your mind. Except for every time someone from The Bear walks in. They look drained, more and more each day. It’s a certain type of pain, to watch people – that once had so much life in them – lose the light that you felt so harshly the first time you walked into the restaurant. You hear inklings; mentions of a changing menu every night, nonnegotiables, and the like.

It worries you. It’s not your place - you’re more than aware of that. But you’ve come to care for these people. And by extension, some part of you wants to see how he’s doing. It’s an odd - biting -feeling. How strange it is, to know someone through everyone else’s eyes but your own. You have to fight back the urge to force yourself into the places you do not fit. You’re resigned to watching from afar, providing comfort behind your coffee bar. It’s what you’re good at. It might be all you're good at.

Some sick twist of fate decides to upturn it all one Friday night.

Carmy had stayed late, to nobody’s surprise. He’d been adjusting the menu, preparing it for tomorrow, when the flashes hit him. He decides to walk it off, popping another thing of nicotine gum into his mouth. He walks aimlessly, trying to push the overwhelming thoughts out of his head. The street is dark - most places being closed - but light pours onto the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of him. Almost a reflex, he peers into the windows.

A laugh of disbelief - more a huff of air through his nose - leaves him.

You’re dancing, headphones over your ears, as you mix something in a large bowl. It’s unlike anything he’s seen - from you or otherwise. There’s a sense of freedom in your movements, so different from the few times he’d seen you before. The tightness in his chest lightens, some, at the sight of you so obviously in your element.

And you're looking right at him.

“Shit,” he mumbles. You tilt your head at him, doing a little wave. He lifts a hand in reply, and you point haphazardly at the door. Before he can respond, or walk away – anything, you’re heading around the counter. A click of the door unlocking, and you pull it open part way.

“Hey,” you say, a little loud. With a wince, you pull the headphones off to rest around your neck. Music can be heard – a muffled, upbeat song that he doesn’t recognize. “Hey,” you say again, quieter this time. Silence passes between you, and he watches your nose twitch. “…did you wanna?” You jut your thumb behind you. You’re almost unrecognizable from the first time you met, calmer, somehow.

“Yeah, sure.” The words come out, easier than he thinks, and slips through the door you hold open. You lock it behind him, turning back around to slide behind the counter.

You grab a muffin tin, beginning to fill each one with a scoop of the batter you had been mixing. You make quick work of it, pushing them into the small commercial oven, wiping your fingers on the towel that’s pulled through a loop in your jeans.

Leaning against the counter, you finally look at him, “Okay, Pick your poison.”

“What?”

“Coffee? Americano, latte, cappuccino?” It’s like you’re trying to read him, wanting to crack the spine of a book and see what’s inside.

“I don’t really do the…caffeine.”

You hum thoughtfully, tapping your fingers on the counter in some type of rhythm. “Can I make you something? Low-caffeinated, of course.” He nods. “Anything you hate?” A shake of his head.

You grab a cup and get to work. You’re singing under your breath - the song that’s playing from the headphones around your neck. With your eyes off of him, he takes a moment to actually observe the shop. Warm lighting, with dark wood bookshelves making it feel cozy without being too claustrophobic. There’s smaller tables, with different recommendations for certain genres. A sprinkling of string lights and hanging plants just adds to the homey feeling, one so different from the pristine, white kitchens he’s used to being in. So different from his own restaurant. The coffee shop portion is close to the front, dark marble countertops and a chalkboard menu - swirling letters describing monthly drink specials.

“Alright, order up,” you call out softly.

Carmy walks back up to the bar, eyeing the cup. Warmth presses into his skin as his fingers curl around it. You mention that it’s hot, to let it cool for a bit. Silence falls between the two of you - in a way he finds comforting. Your eyes flick between him and the counter you’re wiping down.

“Do you normally do this?” He asks.

“The making drinks thing, or the staying at the shop way too late thing?” You give a wry smile. “Could ask you the same.”

He scratches at his nose, “Noted.”

The minutes pass; you go about cleaning the shop, rinsing dishes and setting things up for the next day. It’s an art he’s well versed in. The muscle memory takes over for you, and Carmen becomes invisible. It feels nice, to just be in a place where nobody has anything to ask of him. He finally tries the drink. It’s good, milky, if a little sweet, but it eases the last of the sourness in his stomach away. A timer on your phone goes off, and you tug on a flowery oven mitt to pull the muffins out of the oven. Chocolate and spice invades his nostrils, soothing him even more. You grab one, hissing a bit since it’s hot, and put it on a plate, bringing it back over to him. Leaning over the bar, you reach for forks that are in a metal cup, right near Carmy. You’re close, with no care about being in his personal space. It’s only for a second, and then you’re back in your previous position.

“You can have some, as long as you promise not to be an ass about it.” You hold out a fork for him. The words cause him to cringe, but he takes the utensil from you.

He stares at the muffin, running his thumb on the underside of the fork. “How much trouble am I in?”

You shrink back a little, “W-what?”

He’s met you what - twice? Both times felt clunky, an awkwardness to the both of you. Here, it’s simpler. Under the cover of night, huh? A voice that sounds awfully like Mikey’s says in the back of his mind. His family won’t stop talking about you. Or drinking your coffee.

“The Bear,” he mutters. “They talk to you, right?”

You laugh, surprised. “Do you actually want to know?” You hold up a hand before he can reply, “Actually, no. They don’t talk to me. I see things, sure. But I’m not getting anyone in trouble with the boss.” You’re on the defensive, not even for yourself, but for his kitchen.

“They-They’re not in trouble.” One look from you and he deflates, sighing. “Okay, yeah. Just…just say something.”

“I haven’t even been to eat there.”

“You should come,” he says.

Another laugh - a scoff, more-like, “You think I could afford your place?” You bite your lip, pinching the bridge of your nose. After a moment, you continue, gently, “Do you have any fun?”

“Fun.” The word is like poison in his mouth.

“Yes, fun. I know that food service isn't the best, but it’s good to have fun, or to at least enjoy it.” You wave your hands around, “That family meal stuff you guys do? That’s so sweet, and you have a whole family unit going on in that kitchen, or whatever. If this restaurant is supposed to be the rest of your life, you should like it, at least a little bit, right?” Your torso melts into the counter, and you rest your head on your arm. “And like, maybe? Don’t change the menu every night, or something. It’s new, right? You gotta work out the kinks first before jumping in all-” you blow air out through your cheeks.

A beat of quiet, then, “The menu, huh?”

“Eleven thousand for butter?” You parrot back. At his frown, you hold up your hands, “I’m just a barista, what would I know?” You say it without heat, and yet he feels guilt crawl up his throat.

“That’s not-”

“I know, Carmen.” A sigh leaves your lips, “You asked, so I talked. Again, take everything with a grain of salt.” The words get softer, as if you’re talking more to yourself than to him, “Just remember who’s going down with you if it ends up crashing and burning.”

You stab your fork into the muffin, tearing it in half. He follows suit, lifting a bite of it to his lips. Spice floods his taste buds, and he grunts. You blink up at him, fork hanging from your mouth. He’s suddenly starving, and he eagerly gets himself another forkful. “S’good.” He mumbles through the food. Carmen watches as you process his words, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. You two finish the muffin, and there’s an ominous sense of peace that covers him like a blanket. “Thanks.”

“For yelling at you?”

Carmy lets the chuckle spill out, “If that’s what you call yelling…” He trails off, sobering, “Do you have fun?”

You hum, contemplating. “Yeah. I mean, it’s coffee, at the end of the day. It’s just nice to see people, to make their day a little better than it was. I like to try out new things, to create, to get recommendations.” You stop, seeing him staring at you, “What?”

“You’re different…from the other day, s’all.”

You’re perplexed, scrunching your nose, “Well I had a bad day, the first time. And I don’t do…well, with new people.”

“Unless you’re behind the counter.”

Your eyes widen, something flickering behind them, like he’s seen something you didn’t want him to. “Touche.” Checking your phone, you clear your throat, “Alright, we should probably get out of here if we want any semblance of sleep.” He follows your lead, as you flick off the lights, throwing you backpack over your shoulder. He waits while you lock the front door, small key dangling on a keychain. You turn, looking at him, before holding out a paper bag, “Muffin for the road?”

He grabs it, an odd feeling bubbling in his chest, “Oh - uh, thanks.”

You suddenly look sheepish, fiddling with the strap of your bag, “And if you’re out late again, feel free to stop by. If you need a break, or something.” A beat. “Oh, again, take what I said with a grain of salt, yeah? Just - maybe - try to take care of yourself a little.” You laugh nervously, and Carmy sees the truth of his earlier observation. You’re still more relaxed, but the nerves have crept in as you step outside your comfort zone. Something he knows all too well. “Anyways, have a good night - morning.” You shake your head, blowing a raspberry through your lips.

“Night. Get home safe.” He murmurs. You turn on your heel, walking down the street. He tightens his grip on the paper bag.

Take care of yourself.

At least enjoy it.

You should like it, at least a little bit, right?

Carmy doesn’t know if he truly remembers what liking cooking is like. He’s found little bits of it, in moving back home. In Marcus’ eyes as he creates something new. In Syd’s determination to make amazing food. There’s a passion there that he’s lost somewhere along the way.

He sees it in you, and it calls out to him - the tide being pushed and pulled by the moon. A curious feeling, gnawing at his stomach. A hunger for something he can’t make sense of, but he pulls the muffin out of the bag to eat on his walk home.

Carmy keeps showing up at Nan’s, usually late at night. You didn’t expect him to take you up on your offer, yet a smile graces your lips every time he does.

He was right, when he said you feel most comfortable behind the counter. You knew it, but having someone else acknowledge it felt…weird. Like you weren’t playing your part right. Yet it also felt good, to be seen.

Conversation between the two of you still feels stilted, occasionally, but you find comfort in the quiet moments. And the not-so quiet ones; with music playing at just above a reasonable level, you mouthing the words as you dance around behind the bar. The mask slowly slides off when he comes around, and it’s easier to be goofy.

You think it surprises him. He’s not quite sure what to do, when you’re cruising on the linoleum tile you call a dance floor. But he never tells you that you’re weird, or too much. You’ve maybe even seen him bite back a smile. You swear there’s dimples hiding somewhere — a fleeting thought that you let fly away before you linger on it too long.

“What do you think?” You’ve turned the music down, notepad on the counter, your favorite pen in hand. You click it a few times, sound satisfying the little itch in the back of your brain.

“Not sure if I’m a matcha fan,” Carmy murmurs. You nod, writing down his response onto the paper. It’s almost filled — you’ll have to turn to the next page soon — with different drinks you’ve had Carmy try, determined to find the right one. He’s harder to pin than others, something you’re not necessarily surprised by.

That's partially on you. You're unsure of how much to ask. How much could you poke the both metaphorical and literal Bear until it breaks? You've been enjoying your time, but you've yet to ask him how work is going. He doesn't ask you about your personal life, so why would you ask about his?

There's a curiosity there, though. To see what makes Carmen Berzatto tick. You fear the two of you might be a little too similar.

You turn to go back to cleaning your mess — the reason being a fresh tray of cookies cooling on the counter, when he says your name. “Did you get a new tattoo?”

Gaze flashing to the wrap you have on your arm, peeking out from the sleeve of your shirt, you turn bashful. “Oh,” you hum, “I did. It’s been on my list for awhile. I’m keeping it wrapped at work while it heals - god knows I spill everything all over myself.”

“Can I — What did you get?” He’s just as sheepish as you, a boyish glow about him. You’d never talked about tattoos before. His evidence is on his arms; yours are mostly concealed — easy to hide with the oversized button downs and jeans you wear.

You pull your phone from your back pocket, “Here, I’ll pull up a photo of it.” Placing your phone on the counter, Carmy grabs it, zooming in on the two-headed calf that’s found its home on your bicep. The tattoo is fresher in the photo, line work popping out against your skin. “The longest living two-headed calf lived 17 months. Her name was Gemini — a little on the nose, I think. There’s also this poem by Laura Gilpin, that just kinda struck me.” Your ramble tumbles off, a half smile pulling at your lips. “It’s sad, but the kind that makes you hurt in a nice way? If that even makes sense.” You wave a hand around, then reach to take a sip from his cup.

The matcha settles the nerves hiding under your skin, the earthy flavor dancing on your tongue. As you set the cup back on the counter, you point at his hand, “What’s that stand for?” Your own fingers twitch, fighting the urge to brush them across his own. “S.O.U?”

“Ah, sense of urgency.” He says, fiddling with your phone.

You laugh, quickly covering it with a hand, “Sorry, I — sorry, that just makes so much sense.” Before he can speak, you shake your head, “Not in a bad way, necessarily. It’s just so obvious how little work-life balance you have.”

“We’re literally at your shop in the middle of the night.” Carmen huffs exasperatedly, corner of his mouth curling up.

You hold your hands up, conceding, “Okay, I get it. Misery loves company - or whatever. God, we’re both crazy, aren’t we? We should get out more.”

He hums in response, tapping his phone twice to check the time. Anxiety swells up in your throat, and there’s something biting at your heels. The silence doesn’t feel comfortable anymore.

You said something wrong, the little voice in your head whispers. You lost the script and got too close and now he’s pulling back. How can you fix it? You have to fix it.

“What’s your favorite one?” His blue eyes glance up at you. Invisible hand squeezing your lungs, you stammer, “Tattoo. What’s the one you like most?”

His words come out softly, “A house boat. I, uh, got it before leaving Copenhagen. I stayed in one while I was over there, and put out water for an invisible cat.” Relief floods you as he talks. It’s the most he’s spoken about anything, and you see a glimmer behind his eyes.

It feels a little too close to home.

“You really loved it over there, huh?”

As if caught, he clears his throat, “It was cool…different.”

Different from Chicago, you don’t say. “I get that,” you murmur instead.

You knew what it was like, to run away. The need for escape pushing you into flight as the metaphorical dog chases the rabbit.

You wonder what Carmen’s dog was. Or is. If it’s even a dog at all.

“What about you? What’s your favorite?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts. “Oh! Um, it’s silly.” You worry at your bottom lip.

“You don’t—”

“No, hold on, it’s just,” you push yourself onto the counter with the palms of your hands. Carmen leans back as you swing your legs over the bar, letting your feet rest on the barstool next to him. You lean over, pulling up your pants leg to show the tattoo on the right side of your calf. He stares at it for a moment, confusion clear in his gaze. “See, I told you.”

“Is it a moth, or something?”

“Moth-man, Carmen. Mothman.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“He’s a cryptid. There’s literally stories of a Chicago Mothman.” He peers up at you in amusement, causing you to scrunch your face at him. “I swear on my life Carmen Berzatto, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not.” He laughs, and your chest loosens. You got Carmen Berzatto to laugh. “It looks good, the style is nice,” he gestures to your leg.

You smile, “Thanks.”

Nodding, he goes to sip from his cup. He makes a face, pulling it away from him, “Yeah, I don’t like this.”

He holds it out to you as you reach for it, laughter spilling from your lips, “More grass for me.” You drink, and let the cup rest on your thigh, fingers tapping on the plastic lid.

“I’m not…” Your head turns to look at him, watching as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not really good at this.”

“...at what?” You whisper, scared if you talk any louder you’ll scare him away.

“Talking? Not working? Who the fuck knows,” his hand leaves his hair and passes over his face.

“I’m not either, really.” You pick at your jeans, “But we’re trying, right? You come by more than I thought you would.”

“Really?”

You snort, “Dude, the first time I was surprised you even came in.” Gently, you add, “And you don’t have to be perfect at conversation to be friends with someone.” His eyes meet yours as you nudge his shoulder with your knee. “I’m weird, you’re weird, that’s okay.”

Carmen rolls his eyes good naturedly. His legs are bouncing, and you can almost see him chewing the word around before it finally leaves, “Friends?”

“Friends.” You affirm. Silence passes between you, until a growl comes from your stomach.

The man laughs, looking all the prettier for it, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you groan.

He gets up from his seat, grabbing his denim jacket that’s hung over the chair on his left, “C’mon.”

It takes a moment, but it clicks. “Oh my god,” you gasp out, hopping off the counter. With a speed you only have during a lunch rush, you run to the back. You untie your apron, hang it up on a hook, and grab your tote bag. “Wallet, keys, phone…phone!”

“Out here!” Carmen yells. You grin, rushing back out to the front, bouncing on your heels. “You good?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You shake your keys with enthusiasm. He laughs as you both leave, and you turn to lock up. There’s excitement buzzing through you, like caffeine would if your brain weren’t wired a bit funky. A thought cuts through the haze, “Oh shit, I forgot to–”

“I got the trash.” The street lights reflect off his blue eyes.

Your heart twinges a little, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He gestures with his head, “Now let’s go before your stomach eats itself.”

“Hey Carm?!”

The man pokes his head into the office, one hand wrapped around the door, “Yeah, what?”

Natalie raises an eyebrow, “You busy?”

Carmy scoffs, “Yeah, Sugar, I’m busy.”

It’s lunch time. Marcus has pastries, Tina’s running prep. Syd is around…avoiding him. He tries not to think about it for too long. Richie is who knows where.

Fuck, don’t be an asshole, asshole.

Deflating, he asks, “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I’m spending my hour of alone time figuring shit out here, while Pete watches the baby.” His sister sighs, glancing down at the paperwork on the desk, “I’m managing. Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

He wants to ask about the baby. His niece. But Natalie barrels over the topic to say, “Were you here late the other night?” He must have made a face because Natalie sighs, exasperated. “I know you stay later than everyone else, doing god knows what, but I got a notification on my phone the other night-“

“What notification?”

She rolls her eyes, “The alarm system, dummy. I get alerts.”

“No, yeah, I get that. But I turned it off.”

It could only be from the other night, when he brought you back to the restaurant. He’s not sure why he did — he almost had a panic attack in front of you while debating what to make. It's strange, how much an environment can affect someone. Nan's feels so comfortable to him now, like nothing can happen to him when he's in those four walls. Where was the last place he felt like that?

You don’t need to impress anyone, Carmen. It’s just me, you had said.

Simple words that cut through him like a knife. You asked for comfort food, so he made you grilled cheese with tomato soup. The little dance you did every time you took a bite relit a fire inside of him that had been burnt out by years of working in kitchens.

“I know. I’m asking because the alarm was set, and then you turned it off again a few hours later.” Natalie unlocks her phone, showing him her screen that has some app pulled up with timestamps on it. “Are you sleeping? Look, I know things aren’t great right now—" Natalie cuts herself off with another sigh.

“It’s fine. Things are fine.” At her pointed look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m working on it, okay? Just…are you good? Do you need anything?”

“About 48 hours of interrupted sleep would be great.” Her gripe falls off into a laugh, which he returns.

Stepping into the room further, he pulls the door closer, just a slim crack of clean white light coming through. “I’ve been a shitty brother lately.”

“No…” Natalie snorts, “Okay yeah, a bit. I love you, though.”

He mumbles the words back, tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, “Maybe I could come by, sometime. See the baby.” It’s a blessing and curse how his chest aches when he sees the way her eyes light up.

“I’d love that, Bear.”

“Yo, delivery!” Marcus yells out, pulling the attention of the Berzatto siblings.

“The fuck?” There isn't supposed to be a delivery today.

Natalie gets out of her seat, “Oh thank god.” She ushers Carmy out of the office, pushing past him into the dining room. He follows after her, confused, only to stop in his tracks.

You’re here.

You stand next to Richie, talking animatedly, albeit shy. You’re wearing clothes he doesn’t regularly see you in, the worn denim jacket catching his eye in particular. It’s clear that you aren't working, yet you hold two cups from Nan’s in your hands, a few drink carriers littering a table.

“You’re literally my savior, thank you.” Natalie pulls you into a hug, and you look at Richie with wide eyes. Carmy has to hold back a snort at your expression.

“You should expect this reaction by now, kid.” Richie takes a sip from his drink when you gape at him in exaggerated outrage.

“Shut up, Richie,” Natalie is barely paying attention, saying the words more out of habit. Grabbing a cup from a drink holder, she says, “You’re coming home with me.”

Giggles bubble from your lips, and you go to cover them with the back of your arm. There’s a pull Carmy feels, instinctual, to urge your arm away from your face and hear your genuine laughter fill the room.

Your eyes meet his, finally noticing that he’s there. The smile you give him is earnest, a gentle hello without words. He forces his feet to move, closing the distance. Carmy blatantly ignores the looks both Richie and Natalie are making. You hold out the cup in your hand - the one you weren’t drinking from - and he takes it from you.

Condensation clings to the sides, his name hastily written on the side.

⋆⁺Carmy!⁺˚⋆

There’s a heart in place of the dot at the bottom of the exclamation point, little stars doodled around his name. His stomach flips.

“Iced?” He swirls the drink in hand, mixing it up.

You shrug, “Thought I’d try something different. It’s hot outside.”

“You off?” Bringing the straw to his lips, he hums at the taste. You’re watching him eagerly, head tilted to the side as you wait for his review. “This is nice.”

Squinting at him, you huff, “Not perfect, though.” You type something into your phone — most likely to add to your notebook later. “Had to run some more syrup by the shop. Saw Natalie’s car on the street so I texted her to see if she wanted something to drink. I have errands to run after this.”

“You a regular too now, Cousin?” Richie barks, and Carmy watches as you remember where you are. Who you’re with.

A protectiveness rises up in Carmen, hating the way you recoil into yourself. “Fuck off, Richie.” He looks over at you, “Hungry?”

“Dude, we got shit to do.”

“Richie!” Natalie hisses at the older man, shoving him back toward the kitchen. She calls back to you, “Thanks for the coffee! I promise I’ll come by when I feel more like a human again.”

The customer service clicks into place behind your eyes, “Take care of yourself! Hope the baby is doing well!” Once it's just the two of you, you sigh, knocking the heels of your boots together. “I should get going.”

Carmen nods, “Can I grab you a sandwich, first?”

“Grilled cheese?” You tease, stifling a smile.

He huffs, shaking his head, “Nah, but Ebra’s got window right now. I could throw something together real quick.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He glances down; you’re pressing your thumb into the middle of your hand. It's uncanny, the semblance of himself that is mirrored in you.

“I know.” He wants to, though. “Give me five minutes?”

A moment of hesitation, then, “Okay.”

“Cool.” And he’s off.

Chaos erupts the minute he’s back in the kitchen.

“Since when did the two of you become buddy-buddy?”

“Can we please get back to work? Richie, respectfully, what are you doing back here?” Syd is working on pasta, flour covering her work service.

“I got shoved outta my space, so here I am,” Richie waves his hands around.

The overlapping voices turn into white noise, and Carmy inhales sharply, “Fak!”

“Yes, chef!” Neil appears out of nowhere. Sometimes Carmen thinks there’s a series of underground passages that makes it so easy to get ahold of him. It’s not that crazy of a notion.

“Go and say hello to them, okay? I’m gonna throw together something, give it to them, and then I’ll be right back.” The last part is meant for everyone to hear, but is pointed more toward Richie. “Seriously, just leave it, alright?”

“I’m leaving it,” Richie snarks, but nudges Fak with his elbow. “Think there’s a drink out there with your name on it anyway. Snag me another one of those apple-donut-things too, eh?”

“Fritters!” Marcus calls out from his station.

Carmy sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s queasy; he’ll have to take some pepto later.

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

Let it rip, Bear.

Neil barrels into you, wrapping you in a hug. He talks your ear off for the next couple minutes; you smile when you need to, laugh when you remember.

The yells from the kitchen are playing on repeat in your ears.

They’re talking about you.

The urge to flee tickles the back of your throat. You thought it would be nice to stop by and bring Natalie a coffee, but then you had felt bad about not bringing anything for everyone else, which turned into you jumping behind the bar to make ten drinks. It’s not like you were going to make Morgan, the barista on shift, make them all.

You always had a hard time not working on your days off.

“You should absolutely come!”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You reply, still not fully checked back into your conversation with Neil.

He smiles, “Great! I’ll send you the info!”

Before you can ask what you actually agreed to, Carmy pushes back into the room, to-go container in hand. “Hey, uh, Fak, can you go take a look at the toilet for me?” You barely notice Neil leave, focusing more on how your chest releases as Carmen walks closer to you.

He hands you the container, and you murmur a soft, “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you out, yeah?”

The thought is nice. Glancing behind him, you see Natalie and Richie watching through the window. “It’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You take a step back just as Carmy reaches out to you. You can’t run, they’d see you. Ask questions. They probably see a caged animal.

“Hey,” he whispers your name, “it’s just me.” He’s repeating the words you said to him the night you were here. You tear your eyes away from the kitchen, looking at him. “Lemme walk you out?”

With a nod, you let him guide you out the front door. The warm summer air washes over your skin, and you take in a deep breath. You count the lines in the sidewalk as you pass them, sipping at your iced latte. “It was cool of you to come by,” Carmy says. “And your jacket’s dope.”

He’s trying to make you feel better.

“Did you just say dope?” You peek over in his direction, catching his shrug. “You’re so old.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs, and your smile widens.

You make it to your car, a little thing that has a new problem every other week. It’s been with you for years, moved with you to five different states. More of a sentimental object, than a real mode of transportation. You mostly used CTA these days if you were able, but it was nice to have a car for when you’re running errands all around the city.

“Sorry if they bothered you,” he apologizes, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No, no, no,” you push out the words, throat tightening, arms hugging your middle. “I thought I was going to try to be a human today. May have jumped the gun on that one.” Fiddling with your keys, you continue, “It was nice to see you. Thought you might be a vampire or something, since I only ever see you at night.”

The joke causes Carmy to roll his eyes, “Is that considered a cryptid?”

You perk up at the word, “Oh, don’t get me started.”

He smiles big enough for his dimple to appear, “Oh, yeah?”

“Unless you want me to talk for hours on end. I’ll make a power-point presentation and everything.” You might already have one in the works, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You could - I mean, it wouldn’t bother me. If you did, you know?”

You blink a few times, frozen in shock. He looks shy, almost. Like the first time you met him, but there’s something between you now. A plant that will keep growing - might even bloom - if the two of you keep watering it. He keeps pecking away at your carefully crafted walls that let people see exactly how much you want them to.

Carmen Berzatto keeps seeing you. Whoever that is.

He coughs, scratching the side of his head. “I’ll see you later?”

“You know where I’ll be.”

“Yeah.”

You walk around to the driver’s side of your car, opening the door. You slide in, turning the key to let your car sputter to life. You roll the windows down, and music starts to blare from your speakers. “Kick ass tonight!” You yell the words as you pull away from the curb. You spare a glance in your rearview, watching Carmy wave before he starts walking back to his restaurant.

When you're parked outside your apartment, it hits you. You dig into your tote bag, pushing aside old receipts, chapstick tubes, and fidget toys. You cheer to yourself as you pull your notebook out, favorite pen hooked over the cover. Flipping to the back, you stare at the list of drinks you've had Carmy try.

You think you want to keep seeing him, too. Whoever that is.

You scribble at the bottom of the page, circling it twice.

Spiced Chai ~ HOT, xtra cinn

[alexa-fika]

HEY! HEY! HEYYY! IT'S MEE

Anyways today is now birthday 😍🎂 (A.k.a April 4)

Can I request a whitebeard pirates x fem child reader?

Like the reader is like nezuko from demon slayer

Let's say that reader comes with ace to find a cure

So basically ace was figthing jinbe and whitebeard arrives and then ace and whitebeard starts fighting until ace pass out but before ace can pass out reader attacks then because she's very protective of her family 🥺

Then they basically distract reader so that they can aboard ace into the ship then out of nowhere reader starts running around because the sun was rising and she has no option but to go with the whitebeard pirates

So basically everyone was suspicious because why was reader wearing a muzzle? And why does reader only comes out in the night or stays in shades?

But if anyone tries to question ace gets really defensive because he thinks they'll kill reader because she's a demon

So in the end whitebeard first found out then Marco then thatch (f u Blackbeard) then izou then everyone?

Thank youuuuu ✨✨

Demonically adorable (Whitebeard pirates x f!child!reader!)

Part 2 (Reactions)

A/N, im not gonna lie cosmo, I was totally gonna skip this one and leave it for later but I got to actually reading and looking back at when ace joined and omg the ideas just started flowing, some things are not exactly as your prompt or don’t go as in depth so I really hope you enjoyed this, because I certainly enjoyed writing it

Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for Reader in Japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Dokucha's eyes widen as she runs towards Ace, trying to shake him awake, growling at the giant in front of them

“Hmm? So he has a little brat with him?”

The only response he receives is the sound of hisses and growls behind the child’s muzzle

“Back down, Dokucha, you’re no match for him…my father’s rival,” he grunts out

“I won’t lose,” he growls, beginning to stand up and ignoring the worried fussing of the child

“Heh, so you've still got some fight left, huh? Look, I'm not going to kill you today; you are far too valuable to someone to die here”, the man said, gesturing at the small child next to him

“Join me and become my son,” he says, reaching out his hand to the flame man

“Don’t screw with me, old fart,” he growls, slapping his hand away and launching himself toward the Emperor, only to be knocked back

Dokucha let out a sound close to a cry as she ran towards Ace, trying to shake him awake once again, snapping her head up at the sound of Whitebeard’s steps approaching them

She growls, standing in front of Ace, shielding him, her eyes shrinking to slits as the man continues to approach the two, her eyes glancing behind him as a blue flame approaches them

She watches as a blue flame grows closer until she is able to discern the shape of a bird landing next to the man

“Are we taking him with us?” He asks, glancing at Whitebeard

“Yes, he’s knocked out. He will be no problem, but I reckon the little one won’t go as easily.”

“I can handle her, Pops; Thatch will take care of the boy and his crew.”

“So I said, but you aren’t making this easy,” he sighs, evading another lunge from the girl

“And here I thought the other one would be the troublesome,” he spoke, catching a kick that he sent his way and pushing her back

She catches herself, gripping the ground with all fours as she immediately leaps towards him again, growling at him and showcasing the sharp canines now on full display, the muzzle long gone as her body begins to mature rapidly.

He quirks his head at that,

“That body of yours, is it the Toshi-toshi no mi?” He questions, flying out of the way to avoid her attack

She grits her teeth, looking at the airborne phoenix, preparing to jump up to meet him in the air until he suddenly flew down and trapped her between his talons

He hums, glancing at her expression, noting how the angry expression she had worn at the beginning had shifted to a worried one as she kept glancing around, presumably looking for Where they had taken Ace

“Hey,” he calls, frowning as she ignored his call as she tried to free herself

“Oi, Calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you,” he hollered, trying to settle her down

“You’re just trying to protect him, right?”

She pauses her attempts to free herself at the question

“We’re not going to hurt him; all the contrary, we want to help him,” he explained, huffing as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously

“I promise,” he said, returning his upper body to his human form as he raised his hands in a surrendering motion

“Listen, how about I take you to him? You can stay with him, and we can talk about this in the morning.”

She looks at him, nodding, as her body slowly returns to her original childish state

He kept her for a few seconds, trying to determine if she was really giving up, removing his talons when it was clear she had no more fight on her

She yawned, glancing around her to take in the room she was in; remembering the events of last night, she jumped off the bed, grabbing her umbrella, and poking her head outside of the room.

“Hey, pumkin’, I see you’re awake,” a voice pipes in

She looks towards the voice, spotting a man dressed in Chef clothes smiling back at her

She looks at him for a few moments before reaching one of her hands towards him, opening and shutting it as her other hand held the umbrella

He grins and easily picks her up

“What’s with the umbrella sweetpea?”

She points her hand up

“Hmm? The sun?”

She nods

“Are you sensitive to sunlight?”

Another nod

“Well, I’ll be damned, Marco did mention you were quite unique,” he said, looking her over, deciding not to comment on the bamboo piece between her teeth

“But just as cute, aren't ya, darlin?” He said, tickling her neck

Muffled giggles escape her at the action as she nuzzles deeper into him, trying to escape the sudden attack

They both turn at the sound of a door slamming open, looking as a disheveled Ace left the room, looking around, confused

“Looks like sleeping beauty finally woke up; how about we go say hi?

She leans the umbrella against his shoulder to free her hand as she pulls at his clothes

“Something wrong?”

She points at Ace, puts her hands together, leans her head against it in a sleeping motion, and then puts her wrists together, joining and separating her hands

“A sleeping crocodile?”

She shakes her head, repeating the motions

“Are you… are you trying to say he is snappy when he wakes up?”

She beams, nodding her head

He snickers at that

“I like you,” he said, walking closer to Ace as he threw himself against the walls of the ship, sliding all the way down and gripping his head only to snap it up at the sound of Thatch’s voice

“Hey, there; I'm Whitebeard’s fourth division commander, Thatch. I'm a good friend to have if you’re going to be joining us he said, sitting down on the railing, gingerly placing Dokucha on his lap

“Shut up!” He growls

“And give me back my sister he said, standing up and snatching the small girl from him, returning from his previous position as he hugged her

“Hahaha! She was right; you are kind of snappy when you wake up,” he teased as he continued to explain what had happened when he passed out, teasing him further when he questioned the lack of restraints on him, replying that such a thing was not needed on him.

The next few weeks were but a blur to the small girl, every day following the same pattern for a while. Every day, Ace would ask her to stay behind as he would go after Whitebeard only to be launched back repeatedly. During these times, Dokucha took to bonding with the different brothers on the ship, as they cared for her when Ace was busy with his assassination attempts.

“How many times has it been already?” Questioned Vista as he watched as once again Ace was thrown out of the Captain’s quarters

“More than a hundred”

“How could such a sweet thing be able to deal with that hothead, always madder than a wet hen, ain't that right pumkin’?” Thatch questions as he bounced the small girl on his legs, smiling at the muffled laughs that escaped her.

“Stop moving so much, Izou,” grumbled as he continued to work on the girl’s hair upon her request

“There you go,” he said, backing up with a smile

She beamed, jumping off Thatch’s lap and twirling around, showcasing her new hairdo

“Say, how come you wear that muzzle all the time?” Someone questions

“Mind your own business,” Ace grumbled, dripping wet as he passed them and snatching the small girl up as he went, who gave the men behind her a wave as she left

“I think your brother should be about done with his daily attempt. Should we get this to him?” Marco questioned the girl on his hip as his other hand held a bowl of soup, smiling as she bounced her head up and down

He chuckles at the action as he exits the kitchen and walks over to the spot where Ace laid, gently putting Dokucha and the bowl of soup next to him

A whine escaped the girl as he left, running after him as he took his leave

“Hey, what’s wrong? You can stay here with Ace. “ his actions differed from his words as he picked up the child again

“Tell me, why do they call him pops?” Ace grumbled, watching the interaction between the first mate and his sister

“Because he calls us sons, it’s just a word, but it’s nice, isn't it? Most of us are hated by everyone and don’t have families of our own, so that alone means everything to us,” he said, watching him for a moment and sighing, walking over to him and kneeling down, placing the girl next to them

“Hey, when are you going to stop this? I'm sorry to rain on your parade, but you aren’t strong enough to kill him, so you have two options: leave and start anew or stay and bear Whitebeard’s mark on your back,” he spoke

“Do try to keep your sister in mind when you make your choice, will you?

I do hope you decide to stick around; we’ve grown fond of the little miss.”

Ace found himself deep in thought; it seemed like only a day ago he had been mulling over if he would stay or if he would go; now he found himself mulling over if he should become a commander under Whitebeard or not; he glanced behind him as Dokucha ran circles between Marco and Thatch, the men struggling to keep up with her zigzagging.

He sighed as he made his final decision.

“Dokucha, come here”

So I don’t have full fledged scenarios on the reactions the crew members would react to the news but I do have already thought out how they would react so maybe I can do it in a headcannon format? 👀 Also I really tried to lean in into southern Thatch, without making it too much, what do yall think?

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[derpy-dogs-n-cats]

Courtship Misunderstanding.

Main Masterlist

Avatar Masterlist

Neteyam x Fem! Metkayina! Reader.

Warnings: Talks about mating, implied sexual themes.

Summary: Neteyam finds out that he's still unaware of some of the customs of your people.

W/C: 2.5k+

Neteyam slowly rises from the water to the shore of the village of Awa’atlu, water pouring out of his hair as he drags the giant eel from the cord he’d brought along and tied around the base of its jaw. Stepping out of the water properly and turning to his left, he rests the end of the long cord in his hand over his shoulder, feeling satisfied at the sound of the heavy drag of the massive weight of the eel leaving a deep wet path on the sand.

It’d taken him days of exploring every inch of the waters, starting with the reefs and opening to the deeper ocean but he’d finally found a catch that was worthy of being gifted to you; an eel larger than him and almost as wide as his torso that quite frankly had him struggling, though he tried not to show. Neteyam watches how the sand suddenly turns dark, having him looking up and seeing that eclipse had started with nighttime falling upon them, urging him to walk faster.

Once he reaches the docks, he crouches down and squeezes his arms under the eel and between the sand, lifting it with a small grunt and placing it on the elastic sheet that creates paths to the marui. Placing his hands next to the eel firmly, he hoists himself up and lands on his knees on the path with a light bounce, taking the eel back in his arms and standing back on his feet, carrying it much like a newborn to further impress you with his strength..

His legs start walking the path to your family’s marui, careful that the eel doesn’t somehow leap out of his arms with the light bounce of his feet. As he walks to his destination, he crosses paths with a few metkayina walking by him, all turning around and eyeing him and his catch as they walk away, having him feeling somewhat giddy; the same feeling you elicit on him whenever you so much as look at him, and when you smile upon noticing him already looking at you…

He feels as if though his heart could just about explode. You make him feel just as innocently happy as when he was a child, back before the sky people returned, back before his father laid more weight on his shoulders, before he had bigger responsibilities, all of which his brother noticed which led to him being called ‘whipped’. He had no idea what it meant, but if this is what being ‘whipped’ felt like, he didn’t want it to stop.

Finally, he reaches your family’s pod and peeks in, standing at the corner of the entrance and seeing you sitting on your calves in front of the firepit at the center, using the light to weave a choker with thin vines and watching as you meticulously add a small white pearl into it, following an intricate pattern which will no doubt match the white freckles that beautifully adorn your body, the ones he can’t wait to trace patterns on.

“Neteyam!” You greet with a smile, having looked over and caught him staring at you. Your voice snaps him out of his trance and has him returning the same smile as you stand to approach him, having set down your choker. “Wow, your parents must be proud.” You compliment, eyeing the eel. “No, this… this is for you.” He smiles softly. “Me? Are you trying to feed my whole family?” You ask jokingly to which his tail nearly thrashes around excitedly.

“Yes.” He sheepishly answers. He knew you’d understand that he’s courting you, gifting you a hunt large enough to feed your entire family to prove he can provide for you and more once you have a few little ones running around. “Thank you so much.” You thank in a soft tone before being interrupted. “Neteyam.” The sound of your father’s voice speaks his name, having them looking at each other followed by your father hand gesturing that he sees him with Neteyam bowing his head.

“I see you.” He says, suddenly very nervous on your father reacting to his eldest daughter being courted. “What is this?” Your father waves his hand to the eel, wondering what he was doing with it in his pod when his family’s marui was on the other side of the village. “Neteyam caught this for us.” You answer with a warm feeling in your chest while said hunter’s ears lightly flick back in confusion. Just the presence alone of a na’vi outside of the family with a large catch should let him know you were being courted.

Maybe your father just didn’t want to accept the courting, was his catch not impressive enough? Surely he could understand that anything bigger wouldn’t have been able to be delivered, it was hard enough to carry the one in his arms. “Very well then.” Your father nods and takes the eel in his own arms with more ease than Neteyam, the small insecurity blossoming in his stomach subsiding the strain in his biceps despite being understandably younger.

While the eel is set near the fire, ready to be cut and cooked, the sound of your mother’s voice speaking your name enters your ears. “Mother.” You greet and approach her and Aonung, receiving a half hug from her due to your baby brother being carried in her other arm. “Neteyam brought us something.” You continue to boast with a smile, briefly pointing at the eel by the fire before taking the baby in your own arms.

Ronal looks at the eel with slightly wide eyes, the impressed expression filling Neteyam with a sense of pride and mostly relief, though unbeknownst to him, her surprise was due to never having seen one of the reef eels so big, given that they’re usually no larger than a na’vi’s forearm. Your mother gestures that he sees him as a thanks to which he responds while your older brother looks away in annoyance, refusing to return the gesture.

Your mother gives a small pinch to his arm with a more than fear-inducing look on her eyes, forcing him to return the gesture. “Aonung, go bring your sister.” Your father’s voice says to which he follows after letting out an exasperated sigh, picking up his pace once he realizes Tsireya’s swimming with Lo’ak. “Come, eat with us.” Your mother invites Neteyam to the pod while your father cuts the eel as the younger male lets out a quiet relieved sigh at his offering being accepted.

You take his hand in yours and lead him in with a smile, pulling him down to sit next to you as he lets out a nervous breath through his smile, the flustered expression not going unnoticed by your parents who share a knowing look with each other, staying quiet to the matter. The rest of the night goes smoothly, your parents cooking the eel as they make small conversation about the village, your baby brother napping in your arms as you talk with your sister and occasionally share a few words and smiles with Neteyam…

The only one who looked unhappy was Aonung with the seemingly permanent annoyed look he bared on his face, though you suspected he was never happy and didn’t give him much importance in the time being. Though while the night felt soothing to you, Neteyam felt as if though he’d already had four heart attacks. The entire dinner he’d been anxiously waiting for the conversation to be had with your parents, about whether or not they approved of him.

He waited as patiently as he could for your parents to start the conversation on the matter, for them to voice their concerns if they had any, if they bestowed their blessing on the two of you becoming mates, make sure that you’d be taken care of properly, anything, but it never came. So as the end of the meal neared, he assumed that your parents simply trusted him enough that they felt as though nothing needed to be said on the matter.

“Ah.” You open your mouth in a way to encourage the baby in your lap to follow suit and open his own mouth, placing a small piece of meat in and smiling as he chews. Neteyam eyes you feeding your brother, a soft smile on his face at the sight of how you treat babies, unable to stop himself from thinking about how you would treat your own baby. Thoughts of him coming to your shared marui only to see his beautiful mate carrying his baby, your baby in your arms floods his mind, a warm feeling settling in his chest.

While you bring another piece of meat to your brother’s mouth, you remain sat unaware of how Neteyam’s, without much thought, tail slowly slides to the side behind you and reaches for your own, gently wrapping around it as best as he could. A gasp almost instantly leaves your mouth, accidentally dropping the meat in surprise with your eyes widening. The sound of the baby on your lap letting out a huff followed by crying snaps you out of your shock with your eyes opening even wider.

“Oh, I’m so sorry tìyawn.” You apologize as you pick up the meat from your lap, readjusting his back to your stomach and trying to feed it to him again only for him to sloppily grab it and throw it away, your parents now having their full attention on you yet unable to find the cause of the disturbance. “Come, give him to me.” Your mother indicates, stopping your actions of lightly bouncing the baby on your leg while patting his back.

You hand him over to your mother and watch how she almost instantly gets him to stop crying while you push the slight insecurity away by remembering how she’s already had another three kids to practice with, of course she would’ve mastered it already. The sudden absence of the tail that was previously wrapped around yours has you thinking back to the recent incident while Neteyam’s stuck feeling somewhat embarrassed of the mess, not having meant to surprise you so much.

You think back to how his tail wrapped around yours and feel yourself getting flustered, not knowing what to think of the action. Metkayina didn’t wrap their tails with each other, in fact, you didn’t wrap them around anything, your tails not being thin enough to offer the flexibility to do so, but for some reason, despite not being familiar with said action and not knowing what it meant, it felt… intimate.

Your father clears his throat and breaks you out of your overanalyzing thoughts, making you look at him. “It’s gotten quite late, it would be best to leave.” He suggests to which Neteyam’s ear perk up to attention. “Yes.” He quickly agrees and stands, and while the action makes you think that he feels as though he overstayed his welcome, in reality, he’s quite eager for what’s to follow. “Sleep well.” You say to him.

His face contorts in confusion as he takes in the sight of your innocent eyes looking at him, remaining sat. “Is something wrong?” Your sister questions before you can, all eyes suddenly on him and his confused expression as he wonders what’s happening. Why weren’t you standing to leave with him? Why did your parents seem oblivious to what was happening? Why did everybody seem oblivious to it?

You should all know what follows next, having finished the meal from the catch that he’d brought for you, the only thing that was left to do was for you to leave with him to somewhere more private so you could mate with each other. Had you changed your mind after accepting his catch? Had he somehow overstepped when he wrapped his tail around yours? “Neteyam? What’s wrong?” You ask with genuine concern, confusing him even more.

“… Nothing- I…” He pauses. What was he supposed to say? Where would he even start? “Rest well.” He returns your words before leaving, you and your family sharing a look that lets each other know that no one understood what happened either. The walk to his family’s marui feels like a blur, hundreds of thoughts and questions unanswered in his head which feels as if though it's just about ready to start spinning in confusion.

“Neteyam, what is wrong?” He hears the concerning voice of his mother ask, realizing that he hasn't just reached his family's marui, but is now pacing in their pod, all eyes on him once again. “’I… I do not know.” He manages to get the words out of his mouth, his legs still pacing him around. “How can you not know?” Lo’ak asks while his pacing brother starts breathing faster. “Boy.” Jake almost shouts, finally managing to get him to stop pacing and look at his family.

“What’s going on?” He adds. “I… I show up to Y/N’s marui, I gift her a huge eel- bigger than me, she accepts it, I have dinner with her family… and they don’t say anything!” He explains with frustration, taking his family by surprise, seeing the usually calm and collected eldest starting to lose it. “It took me three days to find the right catch, and- and when I get up to leave, she doesn’t come with me and acts like she doesn’t know what’s happening.” He rushes the words out, breathing heavily by the time they’re out.

“Neteyam…” Neytiri speaks his name yet stares at the ground as if pondering about something, wondering where she should start to explain to her son what happened. “Sit.” She ushers him closer with a soft voice. After hesitating for a few seconds, he steps closer and kneels in front of her, watching as her mouth opens and closes a few times as if searching for the right words before answering the question he’s so desperately been searching an answer to.

“These are reef na’vi, different na’vi court in other ways.” She explains, the slow widening of his eyes showing the realization dawning on him. “… What?” He asks somewhat in disbelief. “You skxawng.” He hears Kiri insult him, making him shoot his head back at her. “You knew?” He asks, the tone in his voice showing how offended he feels that she didn’t tell him beforehand. “I didn’t know you were courting her!” She defends. “Neteyam is old enough to choose a woman.” Their mother interjects.

“Then what do I do?” He quickly redirects his gaze back at her. “I do not know.” She rushes out as if it were obvious she doesn’t know how metkayina court. “But you told me-” “I have told you everything that I know.” She interrupts her son who quickly looks at his other parent for answers. “Don’t look at me.” He raises his hands in defense, his eldest son continuing to look at his other family members for answers only to no avail, letting him know that if he wants to know how to court you; a metkayina, he’ll have to ask another metkayina.

[mosaickiwi]

Leaping In

Goofy mushy thing since it’s been almost a year of writing... them✨ I’m normal! 💥🎉 (sai’s froggydacted fic part 2 teehee)

Gender neutral reader!! <- idk when i stopped saying this but it applies to everything i write fjdsakljfsla

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Careful of their contents, you tore away packing tape on box after box of assorted items, then scribbled a description of the items on each one. It'd taken a while, but you finally got around to moving in with your long term partner. 

In your excitement to take that next step, the thought of actually labeling anything had slipped your mind during the few days off you scrambled to pack with their much needed help. So while [REDACTED] brought more and more boxes into his living room—suspiciously turning you into a prisoner from the way he piled them all around you like walls of a fort—you had to figure out what everything was to make sure nothing was forgotten from your crummy apartment. Before your landlord broke in to play finders keepers.

It was on what must’ve been the fourteenth trip back from the moving truck that he paused to watch you, setting down another few boxes to reinforce the barricade you'd just dismantled. 

“That one's all your Attack on Giants merch,” he said, arms crossed and fingers drumming atop the highest peak of the cardboard castle.

You stopped halfway through opening said box in your lap, then pried it open anyway. Sure enough, it was full of manga volumes, some figurines still in display packaging, and a few Haruko plushies. One in particular that they'd bought you on that first awkward date at the pier. The poor thing was a little frayed and flat from how often you slept with it held tightly to your chest.

Uncapping the marker in your hand, you wrote ‘AoG’ on a spot where the tape wasn't too damaged. You pushed the box to the side to grab another. But he spoke again. 

“Blankets,” they said about the large, flat box in front of your outstretched hand. “Dishes,” to a small one you stood up to grab from a further pile in your prison.

“Ren,” you huffed and looked up at him accusingly. “Do you already know exactly what's in all of these, then?”

“...F’the most part, yeah.” He smiled and pointedly tapped on the box under his arms. “This one's some of your other plushies. You didn’t leave anything.”

“And you didn't stop me earlier because…?”

They shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Easier t’keep you in one place.”

So he was trying to trap you. 

Without a word you walked over to label the box, the marker squeaking loudly against the tape next to his hand. You grabbed their arm once you finished—since they clearly weren't planning to leave—and gave him a label of ‘my spouse’ on the back of his hand, along with a few hearts around it.

His eyes glittered with more excitement than usual. You might've done a little too much. “Shit, don't tattoo that,” you quickly muttered. From the way he looked to the side with a pout, you could tell he seriously considered the idea. “Wash it off later, okay? I’ll give you something else.”

The hacker immediately smiled brighter as you carefully leaned over the tower of boxes to give him a better gift. 

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

[REDACTED] went back to unloading the truck, begrudgingly making an entrance to the cardboard fort before he left. You started unpacking your clothes first since he’d pointed them all out to you. As you finished arranging them in the closet and drawers of your room, you found a few things out of place at the bottom of those boxes. 

Some of the hats, beanies, and scarves that you'd ‘robbed’ him of. And of course he let you keep whatever you wanted, so eventually a handful ended up in your everyday wardrobe in autumn and winter while others went unused.

But they didn't need to stay with you anymore. You could take them again whenever you wanted now. Along with everything that was his, he was yours. 

You gathered them all into one of the smaller boxes and hurried off to his room. The prison in the living room hadn’t gotten much bigger, and your blue eyed boyfriend was nowhere to be seen as you peeked in to check. Probably trying to take the last few boxes in one trip, you supposed. 

The closet door was ajar in their room when you arrived and you slid it open the rest of the way with your foot. Always clean and neat, not a thing was out of place about his signature black—with hints of gray or dark blue, when they felt like it—clothing.

Save for the soft, knitted green froggy hat that caught your eye on one of the shelves. You set your box next to it and picked it up, toying with the puffed up eyes sewn at the top. 

It found its way into their everyday wardrobe, thanks to your occasional teasing after he went along with your prank. Once in a while he’d wear it, and you never even had to ask. Contrasted with his usual appearance it certainly stood out in a crowd. But it always looked comfortable and cute on him. 

The fabric felt softer than a plushie. You wondered how comfy it really was, seeing how you'd never worn it yourself. But you couldn’t get sidetracked. Reluctantly, you put the silly hat back and got to work.

Only a few items had been put in their rightful places when the prized possession caught your eye again barely a minute later. It looked so sad on the shelf all alone, the little sewn-on smile tugged at your heartstrings. You had to wear it. There was enough unpacking done already. You could stand to use a break, even for a second.

You hurried to grab it, humming to yourself as you lifted it into the air.

“Angel,” the hat’s real owner suddenly called. Their gentle, raspy voice sounded closer than you expected. You looked up to find your ever so silent stalker of a boyfriend watching you from the doorway with an amused gaze. Your eyes went wide and you froze, the froggy hat held high in your grasp as if you were crowning royalty. “Robbin’ me again, love?”

Your face felt warm. “...Um, no,” you lied unconvincingly, too embarrassed to sound calm. “I'm actually returning things.”

“Hm. ‘Think this one suits y’better than me, though.” [REDACTED] stepped closer to pluck the hat from your hands. The soft, knitted fabric slid over your head, then he gently adjusted the ear flaps. “Cute.”

Before he could make another comment, you scrambled to offer a different topic. “Did you finish unloading? You could help me with unpacking in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, give me a minute.” His cool fingers moved to frame your face and lightly squish your heated cheeks. Pale blue eyes sparkled less with mischief, more focused now as they slowly looked you over in silence. He was probably tucking the sight away in his mind to tease you about later. “I'm real happy you moved in,” he said quietly.

Oh. You didn't expect that. “Me too.”

He smiled at your agreement and kissed your forehead, then leaned down. “Really happy,” he repeated between soft pecks to your lips.

Those few innocent kisses soon turned to longer and longer ones that left you wanting. Eventually you had to pull a few inches away with a hand placed to their chest. Tempting as it was to get distracted, there was a lot left to do.

He seemed to read your mind, cheeks tinged pink as he wrapped his hand over yours to keep you close. The doodled label you'd given them earlier was still proudly displayed on their skin. “So… kitchen?”

You nodded. And then got embarrassed all over again when he readjusted the hat that slipped to obscure your vision with fuzzy green fabric in the process.

“Maybe I should leave this here for now,” you said as you yanked it off. The hat plopped awkwardly in the box still full with the rest of his stuff and stared back at you. “I’ll put it away later, I swear. I’m not stealing it.”

Your partner said nothing, thankfully. Only smiled and led you out of the room by your entwined hands. You were careful not to smudge the inked letters on the back of their palm.

[wheeboo]

three silly little words | yoon jeonghan

SYNOPSIS. the three times you and jeonghan wanted to confess those three silly little words for each other, and the one time you do. PAIRING. jeonghan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, slightly suggestive at the end, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing, i have a thing with jeonghan w neck kisses, terms of endearment, jeonghan is just so whipped for you like, you both are a lil drunk n cute n v much in love at the end WORD COUNT. 2.6k

notes: happy birthday to our beloved angel!

ONE.

The first time was so sudden. The moment was just so mundane, simple, just so miniscule, but Jeonghan knows that it doesn't make much for him to feel so weak for you.

How can he not feel that way when the first thing he sees when he wakes up is you stepping out of his bathroom, hair wet from a shower, clad in one of his shirts that you must have stolen from his closet beforehand? The two of you aren't officially living together yet, and it's only the second time you've slept over and stayed the night at his place voluntarily, yet Jeonghan feels his heart take a giant leap in his chest, even through his half-asleep brain and the grogginess of just waking up.

Once you catch sight of his eyes, you feel your cheeks flush, and you playfully tug at the collar of the (his) oversized shirt you're wearing, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

"Why... Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask.

Jeonghan just tilts his head slightly, face softening. "Like what?"

You roll your eyes playfully, placing yourself down next to him on the bed. "You know what I mean."

"I don't, actually, would you care to explain to me?"

You let out a small laugh as you scoot closer to Jeonghan, your hand finding its way to his cheek, brushing away a stray lock of hair from his face. And when your hand rests rightfully on his face, Jeonghan leans into your touch, closing his eyes momentarily as he relishes the feeling of your hand against his skin. The morning sun casts a warm glow across the room as you feel his fingers trace delicate patterns on the back of your hand.

And in that moment, there's a sudden realisation that bursts within your chests. It's loud, almost raging, even in the quietness that lingers this early in the morning. You both exchange a knowing look with each other𑁋there's a vulnerability there, a hint of recognition. But neither of you dares to vocalise it. Not right now, at least. You both have danced around the feeling for so long that the hesitation has grown considerably.

It doesn't take long for a coy smile to etch across Jeonghan's features, before reaching out to pull you down onto the bed with him. You laugh as you tumble into his arms, and he wraps them around you, keeping you close to him as much as possible.

Then his lips, soft as a sigh, presses a kiss to the top of your head, a sweet delicate caress of affection.

You both choose to stay silent.

TWO.

The second time was when you had came down with a cold one day, and you found yourself drowned in a nest of blankets and pillows that Jeonghan had arranged for you on your bed. It was a miserable day for you, with a stuffy nose, a pounding headache, and you could barely speak without your voice cracking. But even with this, he still continues to dote you, care after you, even taking the day off of work to watch over you.

"You don't have to do all this, you know," You mumble, throat scratchy from all the coughing.

All he does is gaze at you with that tender look and faint smile that doesn't waver, even in the face of your stupid cold and absurd bedhead. Jeonghan reaches over and places a gentle hand on your forehead, his touch cool and comforting.

"I know, but I want to, angel," he tells you. "Taking care of you is the least I can do."

You smile weakly at his words, your heart melting at the endearment he uses𑁋it's his favourite one to use for you, he's told you (and there's many other things he wants to call you too, even something as ridiculous as schnookums or as intimate as simply love, my love). You remember the way he first said it, almost shyly and unsure like he was revealing a secret, and how it made your heart skip a beat and how it made his own swell out of his chest.

"Let me go check on your soup, okay? I'll be back." You give him a nod as he stands up to leave you in the comfort of your bedroom for a few minutes, giving you the chance to let out some low coughs that itches the back of your throat uncomfortably.

He emerges back into the room with a steaming bowl of soup, and the aroma instantly fills the room, making your mouth water. Jeonghan carefully places the bowl on the bedside table and adjusts the pillows to help you sit up a bit.

"It's homemade chicken soup, just the way you like it." He hands you the bowl, and you take another waft, already feeling its soothing effects on your irritated throat and congested sinuses. He definitely did not text your mother beforehand, but the soup smells just as good as hers, if not better.

Jeonghan watches you with a soft, adoring gaze as you take your first cautious spoonful, ensuring you're comfortable and not struggling too much. The flavours of home relish on your tongue, eyes widening up to him as you take another sip, and another, and another.

"Gosh, you're an angel," You rasp out, voice still a bit rough.

Jeonghan chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "You're the real angel here," he replies, eyes filled with affection. "Gotta make you feel better so your pretty smile can brighten up my day again."

You can't help but blush at his sweet words, even though your cheeks are already flushed from the fever. As you continue to eat, he stays by your side, occasionally offering you sips of water and making sure you have everything you need. The combination of his care and the delicious soup begins to work its magic, and you can feel your energy returning, even if it's just a tiny percentage.

And when you finish the last spoonful, he helps you set the bowl aside as you lay back down in the comfort of your bed, letting out a satisfied sigh. His eyes remain on you for a bit, and you can tell he's about to say something𑁋the thought makes your heart race.

"I'll let you rest now, okay?" There's a slight tickle to your chest that had made you anticipate for something else, but all you do is give a nod. "Call me if you need anything. I'll be in the living room."

"Okay," You respond, watching as he picks up the empty soup bowl from your bedside table before beginning to make his way to your bedroom door. But just as he's about to leave, you call out impulsively, "Hannie?"

Jeonghan pauses, looking back at you curiously, and a bit worriedly.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you lock eyes with him, and for a moment, you contemplate telling him those three little words that you've been holding onto for so long. You can feel them hanging at the tip of your tongue. You want to tell him how much he means to you, but as you look into his eyes, you hesitate. Maybe it's the fever or the vulnerability from your cold, but you can't bring yourself to say it just yet.

Instead, you offer a shy smile and say, "Thank you... for taking care of me."

He smiles softly.

"You don't have to thank me, angel," he replies. "I enjoy taking care of you."

And with that, he leaves the room, and you watch as he disappears from sight, your heart still pounding in your chest.

THREE.

The third time was just... rudely interrupted. The two of you had taken a weekend trip to the beach, craving for some time away from the bustle of everyday life. The sun was warm, the skies a beautiful clear blue, the sand beneath your toes was soft, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was nothing short of a peaceful.

You and Jeonghan found yourselves strolling along the shoreline, hand in hand, leaving footprints in the wet sand. The wind tousled your hair, the fresh scent of the sea air filling your lungs, and you couldn't help but feel utterly content.

Jeonghan shoots a few glances toward you, the sunlight playing on your features casting a gentle, golden glow on your face. He admires the way your hair dances in the breeze and the way your eyes seem to sparkle with the reflection of the sea. In that moment, you appear nothing short of ethereal that leaves him completely spellbound. You just look so beautiful and he makes it a promise to tell you that for as long as he can.

You steal a glance at him as well, the sun kissing upon his face, noticing how he's lost in thought, with his free hand tucked into his pocket and his expression pensive.

"You okay?" You ask him, letting a thumb caress gently at his hand.

Jeonghan's gaze shifts from the horizon to you, your voice snapping him out of his reverie, and he offers a faint smile. He squeezes your hand in response, appreciating your touch and the concern in your eyes.

"More than okay," he assures you warmly. "Just taking everything in. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

You nod in agreement, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The scenery is undeniably breathtaking, but it pales in comparison to the way he looks at you, and the way he holds your hand as if it's the most precious thing in the world.

And little did you know, the two of you were thinking just how perfect this setting is. It's ideal, romantic, just enough to set the backdrop to the three little words you've been wanting to say each other for the longest time. When the two of you take a moment to stop and pause to overlook the calm ocean waters together, Jeonghan turns to face you.

"Y/N, I..." He pauses, before continuing, "You know that I𑁋"

But just as he's about to finish his sentence, a seagull swoops down suddenly, interrupting the moment with a loud and unexpected squawk. It starts the two of you simultaneously, and you let out a surprised yelp before turning your attention to the noisy bird that had landed on the sand nearby.

The seagull stares at both of you with its beady eyes, seemingly unapologetic for the interruption. You and Jeonghan both exchange a puzzled look with each other, trying to suppress your laughter together.

"Sorry, what were you going to say?" You ask him.

Jeonghan's lips purse together, glancing between you and the noisy bird waddling it's way towards you. He lets out a sigh.

"I'll... tell you later, don't worry about it," he reassures you.

Then the seagull squawks again, as if offering its commentary on your conversation. You and Jeonghan burst into laughter, unable to contain it any longer. As if sensing it had done its part, the seagull finally takes flight, soaring back into the sky and disappearing into the distance.

It's quiet for a few moments, and the opportunity was still there, but it wasn't until you both can overhear some loud chatter in the distance. Jeonghan's eyes trail behind you, seeing a large group of beachgoers making their way towards your spot. He feels the snake of frustration crawl up his spine.

However, he feels that frustration dissipate when you grab a hold of his hand again, and he's met with your bright smile.

"Take a little dip in the water with me?"

He can't help but grin back. "Absolutely."

A smirk crosses your face as you are quick to kick off your shoes. "Loser has to get splashed!"

Jeonghan just yells out your name as you dash your way to the water's edge, also taking off his shoes and hurriedly rolling up his pants. He chases after you, and it isn't long until the water reaches your ankles. The calm waves lap gently at your feet, the cold seawater sending shivers up your spine.

And once he reaches you, he grabs your hand and spins you around to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips.

FINAL.

And the one time it happens, the situation wasn't entirely... the most ideal. It was late at night, the two of you were returning home from a birthday party for one of Jeonghan's friends, and for most of the time you had found yourselves separated away from each other.

You are both also a bit tipsy.

Maybe it was the alcohol speaking for you, or the fact you both felt as if you haven't seen each other for weeks on end, yet nothing but your chuckles fill the air as Jeonghan drags you inside his place. And once the door closes behind𑁋the two of you finally alone together𑁋his lips are immediately locking onto yours, both firmly and gently, making you stumble backwards until you feel your behind hit the back of the couch.

Your senses are heightened by the remnants of alcohol in your system, and your head spins with his lips moving against yours. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him, the heat of his body pressing against yours. His kisses were sweet and addictive, like they always are, also a bit clumsy, and you could taste the hint of red wine on his lips.

You feel his kisses travel from your lips to your cheeks and down to your neck, planting soft, loving pecks along the way. You couldn't help but let out a contented sigh of pleasure, your hands finding their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, feeling the way his breath brushes against the skin of your neck.

"Missed you so much, beautiful," he mutters against your skin, sending goosebumps to dance on your skin as he continues to pepper your neck with tender kisses.

You couldn't help but smile, a gentle, tipsy grin spreading across your face. "I missed you too."

As you break away for a moment to catch your breath, Jeonghan's forehead rests against yours, and you both giggle softly. The room spins slightly around you, a dizzying combination of alcohol and desire. You feel his hand trace delicate patterns on your waist, sending shivers to run up and down your spine.

You can feel your heart beating faster as you lock eyes with him, his dark, dilated pupils filled with a longing that matches your own.

"You know," he begins, eyes fluttering and voice a soft, alcohol-tinged murmur. "There's a secret I've been wanting to tell you. You can't tell anyone."

Your heart flutters, and you lean in closer, eager to hear what he has to say. "Tell me."

A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of his lips, and he leans in even closer, his lips brushing against yours with a teasing, almost torturous gentleness. The scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body envelop you.

"I love you."

Those three silly little words hang in the air, and it feels like time stands still. You're no longer tipsy (even though you still kinda are); at this point, the alcohol has sharpened your focus, and you're acutely aware of everything around you.

"I'm so in love with you, angel, I feel like I might lose my mind."

If it was possible for you to burst, then that's what your heart does right there. You feel a rush of warmth flood your body, like a deep breath you've been holding onto for years, and you kiss him this time. Just briefly, because it was all too overwhelming right now to use your voice when that itself feels like it's not enough.

When you finally catch your breath, you whisper, "I love you too, Jeonghan."

Jeonghan's eyes simmer with an intensity that pierces right through you.

"Say that again," he breathes huskily.

A playful grin forms on your lips. You lean in even closer, your lips nearly brushing against his as you repeat those three precious words again and for the rest of the night.

And all the nights after those.

"I love you, Jeonghan."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair

[smallpwbbles]

Who’s the babysitter here?

Wanted to get a more fluffy fic for the au out, my brain automatically told me to use Cream for such a purpose

————————————————————————

“Why are we here again?” Shadow's voice rumbled out as he turned to the bat on his shoulder, he wasn’t one to let people hitch a ride on his body. Rouge was fine though, she was very respectful of the gigantic hedgehog's boundaries and was kind enough to ask for permission before settling herself on his right shoulder.

Her tiny weight reminded him to trek slowly, at this point it was an unconscious behaviour to be careful with the regular sized people around him.

“Don’t worry it’s not a task from HQ, just doing a favour for Rose and grabbing some stuff she left at Vanillas”

Shadow gave her a look.

“Why did you bring me for this then?”

The bat gave the monstrous hedgehog a sheepish look “I don’t really interact with Vanilla much so I just wanted familiar company”.

That surprised Shadow a little, he honestly considered Rouge an extreme extrovert, the bat had such a way with charming people and swaying them with her charisma.

“Listen I’ve had to participate in a LOT of meetings back at HQ hun, my social battery can only take so many conversations with acquaintances before it depletes completely” Rouge complained, she dramatically raised a hand to her head and feigned fatigue.

Rouge could feel a rumble go through Shadow, he was chuckling, she knew the giant hedgehog could relate as his social battery was practically non existent. The bat really had to fight just to get him to attend the smallest events, be it going for a walk with her through station square or anywhere else in general.

The memory of his rampage after his awakening was but a flickering spot in her head as much time had past, the residents of station square seemed to have forgotten the event as well as Shadow had become quite a small celebrity, it was preferable to people being afraid of the gigantic hedgehog however Shadow hated it all the same.

He would avoid going into the city, even the spaces that could accommodate him just fine. She could only push him to socialise so much. The bat and Omega were just fine for him at the moment she guessed.

They had been trekking towards Floral forest village, the home of Vanilla and her daughter Cream. Rouge could agree the two rabbits lived in a peaceful and lovely outpost, though she much preferred the bustling and loud life of the urban city.

A few residents of the village were alarmed by the bat and giant hedgehog lizard's presence, but Rouge was sure it was mostly Shadows' looming stature and hedgehog body mixed with that lizard that caught the villagers off guard.

The bat glanced at Shadows face, it was hard and steely she knew he was used to people being wary around him but she was sure it never got any easier to deal with.

The bat leaped off the furry shoulder and spread her wings to flap and hover in the air next to Shadows head, she took a moment to look around before spotting a cute little house. The front yard was adorned with bushes covered in beautiful pink tulips and carnations no doubt due to Vanillas' expert gardening skills.

It made Rouge want to buy potted plants to spice up her apartment more, they’d have to be fake though as she wasn’t sure if she’d have the time to take care of them the way Vanilla did with her plants.

The bat flew down to the front door of the cute house, Shadow trailed behind her but kept his distance, he was quite tall compared to the home so Rouge assumed he kept away so as to not accidentally step on Vanillas flowers.

Rouge knocked politely three times on the wooden door, there was a moment of waiting and Rouge began to tap her heel in impatience. Amy said Vanilla was definitely home today so the bat hoped she wouldn’t have to wait too long.

As if the universe was listening to her thoughts the door was opened to a slightly frazzled Vanilla, “oh! Rouge my dear I was expecting you, so sorry for making you wait” she apologised. The rabbit patted down her skirt, it was covered in a white sort of powder “I’ve just been baking some pies for the elderly residents of our village so excuse my appearance”.

“No need to apologise, Vanilla” Rouge felt a little bad for her impatience, making pies for elderly people? That was literally one of the most wholesome things Rouge had ever heard, the rabbit was a saint.

Vanilla looked behind the bat to acknowledge the gigantic hedgehog standing a couple feet away “oh Shadow! It’s so nice to see you, your looking well sweetie”

Shadow's face turned red as he looked down at his feet, it wasn’t like he hadn’t met Vanilla but her kindness was always so foreign to him. Rouge had told him Vanilla contained a maternal aura that she spread to literally anyone and everyone she encountered but the hedgehog was not familiar with the feeling at all.

At Shadows silence Rouge sighed “don’t mind him he’s just shy”

Vanilla brought a hand up to her mouth as she laughed “oh that’s no issue, I remember when Cream used to be just the same, she’d always cling to my leg when I talked to others” she reminisced

Speaking of Cream, the younger rabbit poked her little head out to see who her mother was conversing with, her face brightened when she saw Rouge exchanging pleasantries with Vanilla, and a gigantic hedgehog standing awkwardly behind the two.

“Miss Rouge! Mr Shadow! Hi!” The young rabbit practically jumped out of her home to greet the two. Cream was also adorned with an orange flower crown containing many different plants that Rouge couldn’t identify, It was extremely adorable.

“Hey sweetie, how’ve you been?” Shadow simply waved pathetically behind her, he was even more awkward around children.

“I’m really good, Miss rouge, I’ve been making flower crowns with cheese and helping mom bake!” Rouge was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the two rabbits, they radiated so much good vibes it was gonna give her a heart attack.

“That’s nice hun, hey Vanilla, sorry to rush but I needed to do a favour for Amy, she said she left a some kitchen stuff in here” Rouge didn't mean to speed up the interaction but she could sense Shadow behind her getting antsy

“Oh of course, I’ve kept them in storage for when she next visited, I may need a minute to grab them unfortunately, this weeks been hectic and I’ve just been throwing things all about in there” the elder rabbit explained.

Rouge sighed in her head, that meant she’d be here a bit longer than intended, she didn’t mind that much but she could tell Shadow wanted to get outta there. The bat turned towards the younger bubbly rabbit and felt a little intrusive thought enter her mind.

Maybe she should let Cream play with Shadow until she got the items.

A devilish smile grew on her face, she’d already got Shadow to come out with her today, why not get him to socialise a bit with someone that wasn’t the herself.

“That sounds good, Vanilla. I’ll even help you out, but can Cream watch over Shadow for me? He gets a little anxious by himself.”

Rouge swore she heard something in Shadows neck crack with how fast his head whipped to turn to her.

“Oh that sounds like a fine idea, Cream you don’t mind playing with Shadow while me and Rouge are busy do you?” Vanilla questioned.

Shadow hoped Cream would be put off by the suggestion but her elated expression somehow got even more excited. “Oh yes please! I’d love to play with mr Shadow!”

The gigantic hedgehog had never felt so patronised, was Rouge seriously passing him off like some toddler for a play date, he glared down at the bat who returned it with cheeky grin,

He desperately fought the urge to step on her right then and he didn’t reject the tiny rabbit when she ran up to his paws. It would be too rude to do so now.

Cream managed to hop up and grab at one of Shadows fingers, she pulled at the claw that hung dangerously from the finger with no sign of fear on her little bunny face. “C'mon Mr Shadow! Let's go into the back garden”

Rouge watched as the little rabbit somehow managed to get Shadow to move in her direction, it was a hilarious sight to see as Shadow bent down awkwardly so the rabbit could pull his claw easier, the giant hedgehog turned back to the bat with a look that screamed “help me”.

She felt Vanilla take her arm and gently pull her inside the comfy home. It was very small but so cosy in the kitchen, the entire room smelt of cinnamon and sugar and it made Rouge's mouth salivate.

As the elder rabbit led her to another room in the house, Rouge felt the need to make sure Vanilla was okay with leaving Cream in Shadows care or maybe Shadow in Creams care when she thought about it.

“You're not worried about Shadow squishing Cream on accident or anything are you” it was a blunt way to address it but Rouge did consider herself to be a blunt person when she needed to be.

“No actually, I can see it in the way Shadow treats you, he seems to be a very kind and careful person,” Vanilla explained.

It kind of made Rouge's heart warm, Vanilla was very perceptive of people and the elder rabbit could see Shadow had no malicious intentions.

Though she hoped Cream's bubbly exterior didn’t end up scaring Shadow until he teleported somewhere she couldn’t find him.

————————————————————————

Shadows mind was at a blank, after walking over and into the fenced garden he sat in the middle of the grass yard with his hands laid flat. Cream was in front of him looking not any less excited, he was sure she’d never played with someone like him before and he had no idea how to feel about it.

She was much more observant than he thought as the young rabbit sensed his tension. “Oh don’t be shy mr Shadow! I won’t bite”.

He felt like such a baby, the tiny child was comforting him, the giant monster. The irony was not wasted on him.

“Oh let me give you something!” She exclaimed as she ran to a small patio table that wasn’t too far away, the table was covered in many flowers that Shadow assumed were Cream's early attempts at flower crowns. Her little chao pal, Cheese, was laying in this pile and slept adorably.

The rabbit carefully removed a crown from the pile so as not to disturb Cheese and came back to present it to Shadow.

She held it up high possibly so Shadow could see it better, he had impeccable sight though but he leaned in just to respect the rabbits actions “this is for you! It’s got poppy’s, roses and dahlia in it”.

The rabbit suddenly brought it down when she realised that Shadows head was much too big for the little crown. “Oh… sorry I got so excited to give it to you I forgot how big you were Mr Shadow”

He was about to wave off her lapse of memory, he was too big for a lot of things so the huge hedgehog didn’t take it personally. But she jumped up as an idea popped into her little head “wait! May I have your hand please?”

He didn’t see a reason to not do so so he slowly lifted up a massive claw to her tiny body, the rabbit hopped to his pinky finger and furnished the appendage with her crown. “There! Now it’s a ring”

She looked quite proud of her quick thinking, and the Shadow couldn’t deny the crown turned ring looked really nice. He looked down upon the tiny rabbit and uttered a single thanks.

It made the tiny rabbit immensely happy though so Shadow guessed he was doing this weird little play date right.

“Can I sit in your hand?” Cream suddenly asked, surprising Shadow. It was a very forward question and Shadow really didn’t like picking up people he wasn’t used to. “I’ll be really careful!”.

Shadow wasn’t worried about her being careful, he was worried about himself handling her. The hedgehog really didn’t want Vanilla coming outside to her daughter as flat as a pancake if Shadow ended up squishing her.

But the adorable look on her face was too hard to deny.

Cream watched as a gigantic claw of the giant hedgehog was carefully placed back in front of her, his palm went flat as he invited her to climb it, she readily did so and gripped onto his forefinger for extra measure “lift me up as high as you can!” The rabbit suggested.

Shadow swore the tiny rabbit could fly, she could go as high as she wished herself. He guessed it was just a different feeling when a giant creature was doing all the labour for you.

Creams stomach lurched a bit as the hedgehog did as she commanded, her view went from her garden to the entire village as Shadow even stood up to give her access to more height, she jumped about in his surprisingly bouncy palm as she enjoyed the view

“So cool! Youre so cool Mr Shadow” she exclaimed. Shadows' face turned red again as the little rabbit bounced in his hand. He’d come to expect that for the rest of his life he’d be subject to the rejection and fear from those below himself. He wasn’t like anyone else and was never going to be and he’d come to terms with that.

But people like Rouge, people like Sonic and his friends, even Cream as she bounced in his hand. They were different, he didn’t understand it but no matter what he did they never looked at him in fear.

It felt corny to say but he couldn’t thank them enough for letting him feel just a bit of normalcy in his messed up life.

“Let’s play hide and seek” the tiny rabbit's voice took him out of his thoughts, his face fell flat at the game she proposed considering his stature would make hiding anywhere impossible.

Cream noticed his change of expression rather quickly though “oh it’s okay, you’ll be the seeker and I’ll hide, I have to warn you I’m super good at hiding, I always win at this with Charmy so he doesn’t like playing hide and seek with me anymore”.

Shadow snorted a bit at the warning, it was a bit hysterical coming from Cream but he did love a challenge.

——————————————————————

The giant hedgehog was gripping at his head, the game had gone on for about 15 minutes with Shadow finding the bunny girl in easy places like behind the patio chairs and under a picnic blanket that was chilling on the grass previously. He grew bored of the game after finding her the first time and thought her challenge was just childish exaggeration.

But now he couldn’t find her.

He really truly could not find her and it was taking all the chaos energy within his system not to panic, his thoughts began growing irrational as he wondered if Cream had just left the garden to hide somewhere else. He didn’t think she would do so as the game was kept within the garden.

Where the hell was she then?

It would look so embarrassing if Rouge came out right now for them to leave only for Shadow to have lost Vanillas daughter.

He wanted to disappear in a puff of chaos control when Rouge came outside a second later, she was carrying a large bag full of what was probably Amy’s items.

“C'mon honey let’s jet” the bat pointed a thumb towards the village.

Rouge then noticed Shadow looked downright strung out, his quills were standing up in their ends and he was sweating, she also noticed Cream was not with him.

“Shadow, where's the kid?” she questioned.

His face went beat red as he fumbled for a moment “I… I don’t know” he finally admitted.

Rouge was perplexed “whu- what do you mean you don’t know?”

“We were playing hide and seek and now I can’t find her” Shadow put his hands to his face as his words became muffled “I lost her”.

Rouge stood there for a minute, the guffaw escaped her before she could stop it.

Shadow looked irate by her outburst “don’t laugh, I need to find her! his voice was raised and she felt the yell through her entire body. It didn’t stop her from laughing though.

Rouge wheezed as she wiped a tear from her eye “oh my gosh Shadow how are you that bad at hide and seek that you can’t find her now”.

The giant hedgehog looked a little offended at her teasing, he played many games of hide and seek back in the ARK and happened to be quite good at making himself scarce and finding people.

Rouge calmed herself, she knew Cream was definitely somewhere with them, the bat had to make sure they identified where before Shadow lost his nerve and ended up breaking something.

Before she could offer possible hiding places she was interrupted by Vanilla poking her torso outside “is everything okay out here? Are you two ready to leave?”

Shadow stepped over Rouge, his sudden movement catching her off guard and his footfall making her lose balance “yes everything is just fine” the panic in the giant lizard hedgehog's voice betrayed his words as he tried his best to regain control of the situation.

Rouge moved herself from behind the leg that stood in front of her, if Shadow wasn’t gonna be honest about the hilarious situation she was “actually we can’t find Cream, these two were playing hide and seek and it seems Creams pulled a fast one on Shadow”.

Her voice was full of Mockery, she didn’t turn up to look at the Shadow because she knew the face he was probably giving her could kill her if it was able to.

Vanilla didn’t look affected by the fact her daughter was missing, Shadow was fully expecting to be scolded for losing the younger rabbit but Vanilla simply looked around the garden. She took a moment before making eye contact with Shadow, he saw something like realisation strike her as the elder rabbit's eyes widened.

“Cream dear you can stop hiding now, I know your up there”

Shadow was confused, up there? Up where?

He was immensely startled as he suddenly heard a tiny defeated voice come from in his head, “noooo, I was doing so well!”

The giant lizard hedgehog squirmed as he felt the spines of his upper and middle quills be moved about, Rouge watched as Cream's tiny head popped out of Shadows quills “here I am!” She exclaimed.

That sly little rabbit Rouge thought, she really got in there without Shadow even noticing. The bat had to admire Cream's sneaking skills.

Shadow was flabbergasted. He didn't feel Cream make her way in there, he was usually so sensitive to the touch of others. He attributed his lack of awareness to his earlier tension and apprehensiveness with spending time with the tiny rabbit. If he didn’t then he was sure he’d explode with embarrassment, if Sonic heard about this the blue hedgehog would never let him live it down.

“Cream come down now, you're making Shadow uncomfortable” Vanilla ordered.

“I’m trying but I think my leg is stuck,” the younger rabbit replied.

Rouge flew up to inspect the situation, the little rabbit indeed had a leg stuck in the spines of Shadows quills, she was near dangling and holding onto the spines of Shadows top head spine for support.

“Shadow relax your quills would you, the poor thing is hanging on for dear life” Shadow perked up at that and tried to manually relax himself, it worked too well as Rouge had to quickly catch the bunny girl when the quills smoothed out and her leg was freed.

The giant hedgehog turned to the two of them, his face was etched with concern. Cream was once again very observant to this expression.

“Oh don’t worry Mr Shadow, I’m okay! But I did say I’m really really good at hide and seek” the rabbit reminded him.

He would never underestimate Cream again, he was still standing there trying to work out how she got in there without him realising.

“You sure showed him Cream, it seems he’s not as good at sensing people as he likes to brag” Rouge chided, voice full of ridicule.

She was so lucky she was still holding Cream in her arms because Shadow could have swatted her out the sky.

————————————————————————-

Vanilla had sent them on their way with the items but also a bit of the cinnamon pie she made.

Rouge was glad she didn’t have to worry about what to have for dinner today.

She was perched on Shadows head as they took the scenic route back towards station square, rouge took notice of a little ring of flowers on Shadows pinky finger as he raised his hand to swipe at leaves that had flown too close to his eyes.

“Aww did Cream give that to you, that’s super sweet of her”

Shadow extended his hand out to look at his pinky,

The large hedgehog smiled at the little gift.

“Cream is nice, she and Vanilla are really kind”

“ I know right? It's insanely cute but it’s also suspicious” Rouge hinted.

Shadow was confused by that statement, Rouge couldn’t see his face on top of his gigantic head but she knew he was probably questioning her statement.

“Nice people always have the wildest things to hide, I'd bet you 10 rings that Vanilla has killed someone before”.

Shadows' face turned incredulous, he shook his head “too many crime documentaries Rouge”.

“I’m just saying! Where did Cream learn to be so sneaky and quiet?” She challenged.

Shadow opened his mouth but closed it when he realised he didn’t really have an answer for that “touché”.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: A flashback into the love life of Sy and “Bug”, and a look toward the future with Wolfie and Pup.

Warnings: mentions of military deployment, p-in-v sex, creampie, emotional moments

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me, guys! And I see y’all reblogging the masterlist for the series. And I thank you so much for keeping this story alive! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this story. 

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

The rumble of that old truck coming down the lane had you leaping off the couch to run to the front door. You swung it open, followed by the screen door; your bare feet padding on the old wooden porch warmed from the sun. You saw your man scramble to park before he jumped out and ran across the lawn to you. You threw open your arms as he took the stairs in one step to meet you.

The feeling of his lips against yours was just like the first time. And after he had been gone for the past six months, it felt glorious. Your arms around his neck allowed your hands to slide over his shaved head. You hated when he got rid of his curls before he shipped out, but you understood that it was less fashionable and more functional.

At least he got to keep the beard that you loved so much.

He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along the seam of your lips, and you obliged his entry. He savored every little moan that escaped your mouth, putting on quite the show for his neighbors, who were surely looking out of their windows at this point. They hadn’t heard his truck in months, and now it’s back to annoy them.

When his hands started to wander from your hips to your ass with a healthy squeeze, you knew it was time to bring this show of affection indoors. You broke the kiss and pulled him into his house. He had given you a key shortly before leaving so you could look after the place. You had only been together for less than a year, but you liked where you were headed.

After you are both inside, he pins you against the front door. He’s kissing your neck before pulling away to sniff in the direction of the kitchen. He sighed when he turned around to look back at you.

“I have missed your cooking so much. I’ve missed you so much, Bug. Every night, I wished I could be back here with you so I could hold you close and kiss you goodnight. Every morning, I would wake up with the goal of making it back to you,” he professed, getting down on one knee before taking your left hand in his. “I wanted to wait to do this; I did. But I don’t want to wait anymore. While this ring may have been an impulse buy, I know that yours is the only hand I would ever take in marriage. That is if you’ll have me. What do you say? Will you marry me, Bug?” 

He holds up the ring, and your eyes blur from unshed tears. You truly had not expected this, but you couldn’t be happier. Sy was the man of your dreams. He was funny, loving, and protective; you wouldn’t have picked anyone else to spend the rest of your days with. You realized you had been quiet for almost a minute and spoke up.

“Yes! I will marry you, baby,” you gasped, nodding furiously as he put the ring on your finger.

Standing up, he wrapped you in a giant bear hug before picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, so happy to feel his warmth against you again. Once he started toward the bedroom, you knew you weren’t going to be having your meal any time soon. At least, not until after some unfinished business took place.

Sy made love to you, worshipping your body, and leaving hickeys everywhere he could. The man was never subtle in his lust for you. He missed you, and he was going to make sure you knew how much. Rocking his hips into you, he had you right where he wanted you. In between huffs of air and moans of pleasure, Sy kissed every part of you that he could reach.

As he brought you over the edge repeatedly, he talked you through it. Nothing was better than that moment, having him so close as he played your body expertly like he always did. Listening to him grunt as he chased after his release was music to your ears as his hips stuttered soon enough.

Between moaning your name, praising you, and his filthy dirty talk, he had you wrapped around his little finger. Well, technically, he had you wrapped around something substantially bigger…and that’s why your brain short-circuited when he began whispering sweet things in your ear.

“Look how fuckin’ beautiful you look takin’ me so well, Bug. Missed you so much, and couldn’t wait to be with you again. Just like this, watchin’ you fall apart so pretty for me,” he praised, one of his giant hands coming to rest on your tummy while he continued his onslaught. “All I could think of was coming home and starting our little family. Bug, I want you to make me a Daddy. Please, please, please…” he trailed off.

The guttural groan he made as he finished was beastly. And you loved every second of it. What can you say? You were a fan of when men weren’t afraid to be especially vocal in the bedroom, be it moaning or speaking. More often than not, it was Sy’s voice that the neighbors tended to hear when you two were hot and heavy. 

You waited until he had come down from his high to ask about what he said. He rolled off of you and laid next to you, opening his arm so you could lay on his chest. This wasn’t the first time he had brought up starting a family. He had the same idea before he deployed for six months. But this time seemed different. He was practically begging you to get pregnant, and you wanted to slow the brakes a bit. 

But you can’t always get what you want.

“Sy, can we put a pause on baby talk? You only just got back. I want some time with you before I’m knee-deep in diapers and midnight feedings,” you confided, hoping post-nut clarity would come to him.

“So, before I left, it was because you would be alone. And now, it’s because I’m here with you? Come on, Bug,” he scoffed, running a hand over his buzzcut.

“That’s not fair. It’s not exactly like your body is gonna be the one going through changes. And yes, I am worried that you want to start a family, and we don’t even know when you could be called upon. Then what? I just sit here and wait for you to meet your kid after missing my whole pregnancy?” You supposed, picking your head up from his chest and meeting his eyes.

“You’re right, ya know? I might have to be deployed again. But don’t forget that I’m fighting for my country. That’s not easy either. And I would still be providing for you, Bug. Does that mean nothing?” He countered, leaning on one elbow.

“I appreciate what you do; don’t get me wrong. But I refuse to start a family until I feel comfortable enough to do so. I mean, we got engaged an hour ago, and you’re already planning children. I love you, but this is too much for me right now,” you reasoned, pulling yourself up to a seated position and staring at your ring.

He took your hands in his as he sat up. “I love you too, and I want to start a family with you. That means marrying you and having kids together. I wanted it then, I want it now, and I’ll probably always want it. But if you don’t feel ready, I won’t make you. All I ask is that you think about it,” he implored.

You promised him that you would think about it, and he gave you the space and time that you needed. Two whole days spent in your house, ignoring your phone and your life. Two whole days of thinking about how to make up your mind. You’d never wanted children until you met Sy. He would make a great dad, which wasn’t what you were worried about. You were worried about how much time he would get to be a dad. Or whether he would make it back to you at all.

When you made up your mind, you went over to Sy’s house to talk with him. Very few words were said, but the point was made when you gave him back his ring. As much as you wanted him, you couldn’t be the perfect little Army wife that he wanted, and quite frankly, that he deserved. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night, the memory of Sy’s distraught face behind your eyelids. With a heavy heart, you decided to drown yourself in work and forget about love. And it was working so well, at least for a while.

You are awoken by a deep voice calling your name and a hand shaking your shoulder. Opening your eyes, you come face-to-face with a steaming mug of coffee. You sit up fully and accept the mug, looking up to thank who brought it to you.

Sy’s face is neutral as he lets go of the mug. He sips from his cup as he motions for you to let him sit next to you. Neither of you speaks for a minute or two, unsure of what to say. The last time you two shared a bed was pretty eventful, and now it’s the only thing on your mind.

“How long have you been awake?” you ask, not knowing what to say.

“Couple hours. Just couldn’t sleep. Went for a run to clear my head, and that worked for about five minutes. Now, all I can think of is the last time you were here. Then, I think of last night and how good it felt to have my arms wrapped around you,” he laments, sipping his coffee before continuing, “Anyway, I figured it would be best if I let that ship sail long ago. But you just had to come back into my life, didn’t you? You don’t make it easy, woman.”

“Technically, if it wasn’t for Liv, I’d still be out of your life. Maybe I should thank her. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you,” you admit, looking into your coffee mug.

“Yeah, thank her for me, too,” he laughs, bumping your shoulder with his.

You giggle, looking up into his eyes. “Do you think we can try and be friends? I know last night was fucking strange. And I can’t guarantee it won’t be weird sometimes. But you’re important to me. You always will be,” you confess.

“Of course, we can be friends. I want you in my life, Bug. And if that means that I had to be a damn wolf to get back to you, then I guess I can live with that,” he jokes.

“You’re a handsome wolf if that’s any consolation,” you say, holding in a giggle.

Sy fixes you with the look he used to give you when you were being bratty, and it still works. You can feel the heat rise to your face as you look down and sip your coffee. 

“Well, look. It’s just about 10. What do you say we stop procrastinating and get you back to your boyfriend before he comes sniffing around? I’m sure he’s beside himself waiting for you. I know I’d be doing the same,” he insists.

“You’re right. I’ll get changed, and we can head out,” you sigh, feeling like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

Sy nods, taking your mug. He exits the bedroom, pulling the door shut, and you hear his footsteps leading away from the door.

You get dressed quickly, your mind running through different scenarios of how this could all go down. Your anxiety level rises when you think of having your first fight with Walter. Unsure of whether or not you are still upset with him, you push all thoughts away and exit Sy’s bedroom.

Sy notes your solemn expression and pulls you into a hug, whispering into your ear, “Trust me, if anything, he’s gonna be so happy you’re back in his arms that I’m sure he’ll wanna be done with this little fight o’ yours.” Giving you a little squeeze before he lets go, he pats your back, and you appreciate him for trying.

Soon, you and Sy are on the road to the cabin. He drives while you direct him on where to go. The closer you get to the cabin, the more your leg bounces up and down. When Sy reaches a hand to rest on your knee, you stop only to start biting at your thumbnail. He pulls your hand from your mouth and holds it for the rest of the drive.

As Sy pulls into the driveway, the front door swings open. You’re suddenly frozen in your seat until Sy reaches across you to open your door. “Go on, now,” he directs, a sad smile on his face.

You exit the truck, gravel crunching below your feet. Walter jumps off the porch, stopping on the lawn just past the house. You look up at him as you approach, your feet moving faster once you see the hurt puppy look on his face. You throw your arms around his neck, his scent strong in your nostrils. His arms wrap around you, picking you up off your feet.

You don’t see when Walter and Sy exchange a nod. A lot can be said in one simple head tilt.

When Walter places you back on your feet, you both start to talk at the same time. “I’m so sorry, Pup, I-” “Wolfie, I’m sorry-”

Apologies give way to surprised laughter, and you rest your forehead against his.

“Gimme a sec, ok?” Walter asked, stepping past you to walk over to where Sy sat in the truck. You watch as they talk for a minute or two, unable to hear what is said. They shake hands, and Sy smiles at you. Walter walks back to where you stand, kissing your forehead and smiling down at you. Before you can speak, he lifts your arm and ducks his head under it to heft you over his shoulder.

“Ooof, Wolfie!” is all you get out as Walter makes his way back into the cabin. You watch over his shoulder as Sy drives off.

As Walter kicks the front door shut, you hear Jace’s laughter at your predicament, followed by a snort from Olivia.

“Good luck, bestie. Have fun!” Liv chuckles from her seat, cuddled up against Jace. 

You’ll have to ask her about that later. Right now, you are being carried upstairs by your boyfriend, who missed you something fierce. Ending up in his bedroom, he plops you down on the bed and jumps you. Leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw to your collarbone and back. All the while whispering how much he missed you.

“I missed you too, Wolfie,” you gasp as he sucks on a particularly sensitive area of your neck.

Putting himself between your legs, he finally kisses your lips. When you moan into his mouth, his clothed sex comes into contact with yours. You feel each other’s body heat, and it’s mere seconds before you are both undressed. 

With the thrust of his hips, you feel his apology. With each kiss and nip, you feel how much he cares for you. He brings you to the brink over and over, until you are an emotional mess that clings to him. You’re impossibly close and you wish you could be even closer to him. Wrapping your legs around his waist tighter, you tangle a hand in his hair as he rips one more orgasm from you. 

You throw your head back, a long whine exiting your throat as you ride out your high. When you bite down on Walter’s shoulder, his hips falter and he buries himself deep inside you. You can feel every twitch of his length and every spurt that paints your walls. He fills you slowly but surely, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he comes down.

Rubbing his back, you kiss where your teeth barely made a dent in his skin. His tired groan vibrates through your body, and you can’t help but shiver. His softening girth slips from you, and you both gasp. Walter starts to move off of you, but you pull him back, not wanting to lose his warmth.

He chuckles, happy to be your weighted heating blanket. He settles in with his arms around you until you hear soft, grumbling snores. Feeling his breath puff on your neck, you let out a yawn and give in to your own tiredness.

Everything else can wait for now. You are right where you want to be.

To be continued...

A/N: I would love to know what you think of this chapter!

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[dira333]

Hate to love you - Reo Mikage x Reader

A/N: Yes, I've started watching Blue Lock (again) and despite the fact that Gagamaru and Bachira are my clear favorites, Reo wouldn't leave me alone.

Enemies to lovers (kinda) - College AU - slight angst to fluff

“Reo Mikage is obviously an asshole.” 

Reo stops in his tracks. The voice sounds familiar, even though he can’t properly place it. Whoever’s so sure of his character, is hidden from his eyes behind a giant monstrosity of a fake plant.

Someone else chokes. “Y/N, you can’t… you can’t say it like that!”

“Why not? You know how I think about people who seem perfect. There has to be something wrong with him.”

“He could just be perfect.”

“Nah. I call bullshit.”

There’s a small smile playing around Reo’s lips as his mind supplies a picture of your face.

You always sit a few rows behind him and from what he’s heard, you’re just a few points behind him on assignments. You’re also the teacher’s clear favorite. Well, next to him.

“You could just admit that he’s too hot for his own good and get it over with.” Your friend says and you snort.

“Oh I can admit that he’s attractive, allright.” You say and Reo chooses that exact moment to step out from behind the plant and wave his hand with an exaggerated smile.

“You talking about me?”

Your friend chokes on her drink. 

You, on the other hand, don’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Instead, you glare at him, showing him the same face he’s always granted when you’re aware of his presence - as if you’ve just smelled something really awful.

“Eavesdropping is rude.” You point out and he smirks.

“So is calling someone an asshole.”

“Only if they don’t deserve it.”

“Ah well-” He starts with a lazy smile only for a lanky arm to pull him down.

“There you are!” Bachira singsongs. “We’ve been looking for you. Come on!” He starts pulling him away before he stops talking.

“Bye Y/N” Bachira manages to turn halfway to send you a wide smile and a wave and you wave back, smiling just as brightly. 

Huh, Reo thinks, you like Bachira?

-

The Itoshi brothers might not get along, but they certainly know how to throw parties, Reo thinks as he pours himself another drink. The bar is expertly filled, but most people turn towards the - probably awful tasing - Punch in the middle of the kitchen.

As he starts mixing something for Nagi - his friend hadn’t explicitly asked for a drink, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before he came whining - he spots you.

Interesting, he thinks to himself, and stops what he’s doing to follow your figure with his eyes.

You’re not a usual in this crowd, at least he hasn’t seen you around often enough.

And he’s gotten a lot more attentive to you in the last few days and weeks, even if he’d deny it to anyone asking.

Just las week Horikoshi-sensei had pulled your assignment out and read it aloud to the class, calling it an exemplary work. The smirk you’d thrown Reo is still burned into his mind.

Just outside the kitchen, you step to the side and for one horrible wonderful moment, he can see you perfectly. You’re wearing something casual, loose fitting hoodie swallowing your frame in a way that leaves his mouth dry.

Goddamit, Reo thinks as he feels the clear Zing of attraction zipping through him. That’s not how this is supposed to go.

-

“Did you bribe the Professor?”

Reo looks up from his books. He’s not often in the library, but this assignment is kicking his ass and he cannot focus at home. 

Okay, and maybe he came here knowing you’re a regular at the library. But that’s only for him to know and feel weird about.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” He offers with a smile. You eye him like he’s a bomb, about to go off any second.

“The new assignments are in.” You huff, pulling the chair out from the other side of his table. 

His heart leaps at the possibility of you coming closer, only to miss a beat when you lean forward, the clean scent of your shampoo washing over him.

“So? What about them?”

“It’s partner work. And we got assigned together.”

“Why would I bribe the professor for that result?” He asks, trying to get you out of the shell you’ve build. You squint your eyes at him and something weird, and new, moves over your face.

“Forget it.” You say. “When do you wanna work on it? I’m sure you’ve got more than enough to do with Soccer and everything.”

“I’ll make the time for you.” He says, satisfaction curling in his stomach when he can see you swallow thickly at his words.

Something has changed in your bickering, even though he can’t put his finger on when it started, he can almost taste the tension in the air.

Have you started feeling the same way as him?

-

“You and Nagi…?” You start before shaking your head. “Forget it. Are you finished with your part?”

“Not yet. What about me and Nagi?” 

Your face, usually so expressive, is turned away from him.

Maybe you’ve already figured out that he can read your thoughts from your lips, your eyes, the furrow of your brows. 

Maybe- “Are you and Nagi a thing?”

His jaw drops open. You flinch away, as if hit by your own words.

“I… shit- I just… Forget that I asked.”

He can’t. Not when he’s sitting in your dorm room, back against the frame of your bed. 

Not now that he knows you’ve got a framed autograph of Jinpaichi Ego sitting next to a Hello Kitty plush or that your room smells just like you.

“No. We’re not. Why would you even think that?” He asks, voice thicker then he wants it to be.

“Uh, because Nagi’s hanging off you at all times?” You ask back and your clear annoyance with everything him is like a breath of fresh air. 

“Yeah, but that’s Nagi. He hangs off anyone?”

“True, but… you’re so nice to him?”

“I can be nice!”

You snort. He grins. There’s a moment, just a heartbeat long, where your eyes lock onto each other and you speak without words.

I’d be nice to you, his eyes say. Sure, yours say, teasing him even when you’re not speaking.

-

He’s not sure how it happens. He’s not sure if he cares.

Your shared assignment’s long forgotten as your hands curl into his shirt and his thumb rubs softly along your jaw.

Your lips taste sweet and spicy, like the soda you’d sipped minutes ago and the super spicy chips you’d offered him this evening. You’d laughed at him when he couldn’t handle the spice and he’d lunged forward as if to tickle you for revenge - only to kiss you instead.

You sigh into the kiss, pull him closer until there’s nothing that separates you anymore.

Not even a goal feels that good, he thinks, when you whisper his name against his lips.

.

He’s not sure how it happened, but it’s over. Cold air rushes over his skin, leaves goosebumps in its wake as he’s grasping for oxygen.

You turn away from him, back stiff and tense.

“What…”

“You can stop now.” You say, your voice just as tense as your posture. “With the flirting.”

“I’m…” His brain’s filled with fog, his hands reach for your. He’s not sure how thinking works, or speaking, or anything else that’s not kissing you, holding you.

“You got what you wanted, right?” There’s so much ice in your voice, it could stop global warming. You still refuse to look at him. “Isagi told me about it. You always want what you can’t have. So now that you’ve got me, you can stop with the flirting.”

Reo’s endured the nasty glares and the biting comments. He’d found it funny, in a way, how you could be so riled up when it came to him, but pleasant and friendly to everyone else.

He’s not proud of it, really, but this last comment catches up to him.

Only when he’s outside your dorm, cool wind blowing away the last bit of fog in his brain, does he realize that he should have stayed.

-

“So…” He drops his bag on your table. The librarian shoots him a warning glare while you opt to ignore him.

“We still have to finish our assignment.”

“I’ll mail you my part.” You offer but he pulls his chair out and leans forward, gets right into your face until you have to look at him.

“I’ll take you out. Coffee or Dinner?”

“What?” You ask, your voice high with what’s either confusion or anger or something else. He hopes it’s something else.

“If you’d actually gotten to know me instead of trusting something you misunderstood, you’d have seen this coming.” 

“I… I’d not… I…” He smiles at how easy it seems to fluster you nowadays. But there’s still the spark in you that got him interested.

You huff out a breath and cross your shaking arms in front of your chest.

“If, and I want to emphasize this, if we get a 100% on this assignment, you can take me out to dinner.”

He smiles. “Am I allowed to kiss you before we get the result or can you wait that long?”

Your resolve visibly falters, but you’re trying not to show.

“We… can talk about that. When it becomes important.”

He smirks and your brows furrow in that way that tells him you’re onto him. He doesn’t mind.

-

You wait with the other girlfriends.

You’re the only one with her arms crossed and your brows furrowed.

Out of all of them, you’re the only one who looks like they’ve just lost.

“Hey.” Reo pulls you from the gaggle of girls with ease, kisses the skin right between your eyebrows. “What’d you think?”

“Was that really necessary?” You ask. “You could have totally gotten that goal without it.”

He laughs, carefree and light, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you even closer.

“Of course it was necessary. Don’t tell me you don’t like me showing off while I play.”

You huff into his shoulder.

“You stink.”

“Mhhm. I love you too.”

tagging @shoulmate for reasons

[a-yellow-van]

Wish You Were Here | Part 2

The aftermath of the previous evening.

Series masterlist

Pairing : Joel Miller x f!reader

Fanfic tags : canon compliant, slow burn, romance, eventual smut, angst, hurt/comfort, joel and the reader are terrible at feelings, female reader, no use of y/n, reader is in early 30s, past relationships, trauma/PTSD, grief, loss, post-apocalypse, jackson joel, joel is a good parent to ellie, major character death, original characters, queer characters, bisexual main character, age difference, canon-typical violence

WC for part 2 : 5.9 k

Warnings for part 2 : swearing, implied sexual content

(I had this one already written, currently working on part 3 so it'll take me a bit of time before uploading again)

You’re jolted awake, face contorted in a silent scream, dry tears stinging your cheeks, fists clenching the sheets, heart beating at a wild pace. The last remnants of a nightmare fade away, leaving a shot ringing in your ears, as you try to focus on your surroundings. You’re here, in your bedroom, in your house, in Jackson. You’re safe. You breathe, slowly, in and out. Everything is fine. Everything is-

Images from last night flash before your eyes. Joel, laughing with you. His hands on your waist. His lips on yours. The desire. His rage. And the abandon. 

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

A wave of shame, along with nausea, hits you like a freight train. Your head is pounding, your mouth dry, an awful taste lingering in it. You gag, leap out of bed and run to the bathroom just in time. 

When you’re done, you rinse your mouth and meet your reflection. Bloodshot eyes, heavy bags underneath them, knotted hair sticking out around a sickly pale face. You left the tavern without telling anyone and immediately collapsed into bed. Yesterday’s clothes, that you’re still wearing, smell like booze and sweat and something else too- or rather someone else. You shut your eyes and rub them with closed fists, applying so much pressure it hurts. You want to bash your face in the mirror. 

God you’re a wreck. 

You decide brushing your teeth and taking a shower is the best course of action right now. Your watch indicates it’s well past noon and there’s no way you can get back to sleep. Not with those thoughts swimming around your head. The scalding water does little to distract you from them. You scrub your skin raw, as if you can wash away Joel’s touch; it doesn’t work. You still feel him against you when you step out of the bathtub. You’re thinking about the kiss as you get dressed, as you run a comb through your wet hair, as you walk down to your kitchen, and as you put on the kettle for tea. Why can’t you stop thinking about it? And why the hell is part of you wishing that it went further? The kettle whistling shakes you out of the spiral. You wish you had a stronger beverage, that and a painkiller, but they’re rare supplies these days. You fill a mug with the tea and try sitting at your small kitchen island, but it quickly becomes claustrophobic, as though the walls are closing in on you. So you get up and grab a rainbow wool blanket, knitted by Astrid as a Christmas present, from the couch. Wrapping yourself in it, you go out to your back porch and sprawl on one of the lawn chairs, the bitter January air stinging your lungs, shocking you into alertness. The pain is refreshing.  

What a fucking way to start the year. 

You look out at the frosted mountains in the distance, peaceful giants protecting the town. They’re strong, grounded, indomitable. You think it’d be nice to float up to the top and lay there above the clouds, where what is happening down below wouldn’t matter at all. You take a sip of tea, which burns your tongue, and you curse under your breath. It brings you right back to reality. On the yard right of yours, the neighbour’s kids are playing in the snow, their high-pitched giggles filling the air. The girl, about seven years old, notices you and stops to call out your name. You give her a small wave back. 

“Happy new year!” She yells enthusiastically, flashing the gap of fallen front teeth. Her younger brother imitates her but stumbles on half of the words. Their little faces are flushed, snowsuits soaking wet. You can’t help but find it adorable, even in your condition. It never ceases to impress you how resilient children can be, how they can keep their wonder, their innocence when the world has crumbled around them. 

“Happy new year. Don’t get frostbite,” you reply. 

“Look at our snowman!” the boy chips in, his lisp evident, pointing at a shapeless mount of snow. 

You chuckle. “He’s cool. You should add a carrot.” 

The kids beam, and run off inside to act upon your suggestion. And then a snowball flies out of nowhere and hits you on the shoulder, almost causing you to drop your tea. You shriek, jumping to your feet and putting the mug down on the railing as another snowball misses your head by a hair’s breadth. Max’s figure appears from behind a thick pine tree growing right outside your fence. 

“HEY! WHAT THE F-” you catch yourself, remembering there are children closeby. Max steps fully into view, guffawing, their bright red beanie clashing with the ginger locks peaking out. They walk to the side and push the fence door open, entering your backyard.

“Moron.” There is no humour in your voice. You brush the snow off your clothes, muttering to yourself. Max walks up the old wooden stairs and joins you on the porch. 

“Really? Not even a hi, how are you, happy new year?” They raise a hand to their chest in mock offence.  

“You didn’t give me time for that did you? Nearly took my fucking head off.” You cross your arms tightly. You’re really not in the mood for Max’s antics. Not today. 

“Jesus, so dramatic,” they sit down on the other lawn chair, while you remain standing. “Woke up on the wrong foot?” 

Anger bubbles up inside, as does the urge to punch that smug little grin off Max’s face. “What are you doing here?” You ask, bluntly. 

“Hm. Not much. Just, uh, checking in on you,” Max replies, purposefully evasive. The anger rises. 

“Why?” You bark, already knowing the answer to that question. 

“Well…Just heard you got into, uh, an interesting situation last night.” They look up at you with that smirk again. You glare back, fuming, and grunt in response. 

God they can be such a fucking pain in the ass. 

“So I’m just wondering what it is exactly that made you think oh, yeah,” they suspend their voice for a few seconds “Joel Miller?” They accentuate his name as if it were an insult, full of implication.

You’re trying to keep calm, but it’s getting very difficult. You choose your words carefully. “I was drunk. We were just talking. And it’s none of your business” Your voice trembles with the emotion. 

“Just talking, uh?” Max is clinging on to this stronger than a dying man to his last breath. 

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but nothing happened,” you lie, through gritted teeth. You’re dangerously close to your tipping point. 

“Hm. That’s weird, `cause Astrid told us she saw a lot more than-”

“Can you fucking drop it?” you shout. Max has done it. 

They're taken aback by your outburst, pausing for a beat, before their expression hardens. They inhale sharply and speak up again, brows furrowed in frustration. 

“You know, I’m getting sick of this closed up bullshit. We’ve been friends for what, 5 years, and you never tell me a single thing about how you’re feeling, or your past, or-“

“We’re not friends,” you interrupt them, harshly. 

“Oh, okay, yeah, sure!” Their tone drips with sarcasm. “Then what are we?” 

The question makes you hesitate. “I don’t know. Coworkers,” you say, your tone losing conviction.  

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Max exclaims. “Are you serious? So you’re telling me you- you came to your coworker’s house in the middle of the night after having a breakdown? 

Your chest tightens at the memory. It’s a moment of weakness you really hate to be reminded of. “That’s not fair. It was a long time ago,” you grumble, looking down. 

“Uh-huh,” Max continues, raising their voice. “You supported your coworker when they came out to you?” They wait, expecting you to interject, but you keep quiet, so they take it up a notch. “You helped your coworker when they were starving, bleeding out, half-frozen to death? That’s what you’re telling me?” 

You still don’t respond, but the anger is starting to melt; Max’s words are stabbing at a sensitive spot. You’re brought back in time, to one of your first ever patrols, in the dead of winter, when you were still training. You had gone off the trail because you thought you heard a faint plea for help. That’s when you had found Max, curled up in the hollow of a tree, skeletally thin, shivering,  the snow stained red from a fresh wound on their leg. You had brought them back to Jackson, had strongly insisted to Maria that they stay in town, took Max’s defence when other survivors argued they were a lost cause. You’d checked in on them nearly every day, and you were right; Max had made a complete recovery, eventually growing into an active, important member of the community. At the time, you didn’t know why you were doing all of this for a stranger. Maybe you just couldn’t bear losing anyone else, couldn’t take being powerless, unable to save them. 

Max lets a few seconds pass by in silence. “Look, all I’m saying is I care about you. And I got worried when you left last night. It wasn’t like you” they explain, softer now, the concern honest. You feel a pang of guilt for snapping at them as the anger vanishes completely. Truth is, you care about them too. A lot. Of course you do. And you’re mainly upset at yourself for acting in such a senseless way last night. But admitting all of that out loud, it’d be too much. Instead, you give Max a meaningful nod, and squeeze their arm. 

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m okay. Just- I- I’m hungover.” There’s way more than that, and Max is well aware. But they don’t push further.

“Lightweight,” they tease, lightening the tension. You’re grateful for the change in mood.

“And you’re not? I think you burst the entire town’s eardrums last night,” you respond, relieved to fall back into the usual back-and-forth. 

“Uh, I’ll have you know I’m proud of that performance,” they argue. 

“I’ll give it to you. Wasn’t your worst,” you reply, feeling a smile pulling at your lips. Max gives you one back. 

“Alright, can we go inside now? Fucking freezing” Max asks, rubbing their arms up and down.

“Yeah,” you answer, “want some breakfast?” It’s really the least you could do. Actions are much easier than words to show that you care. 

“Would love some lunch.” They correct, as you slide open the glass door and let them pass first, following them in.

“Seriously though, Joel Miller?” they add, peering at you over their shoulder. You push them into the dining room.

“Mention it again and I’m hitting you,” you threaten, half-serious. 

“Alright, alright,” Max concedes. “I just didn’t know you were into old men.” They snicker. You keep to your word and kick their ankle. 

They squeal out in pain and you strike a second time. “I’m. Not.” 

Max sits at the dining room table, massaging their hurt leg, while you scramble some eggs for the both of you. Along with some sourdough from Leanne at the bakery, it makes a decent meal. And, as you eat, you come to a conclusion. That thing with Joel, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It can’t mean anything. Because you’re not ready to accept the possibility that there might be something more. Something like feelings that you’d need to process. You’ve taken too long to build a thick, impenetrable shield around your heart. You can’t just drop it so quickly. It was a mistake, a lapse in judgement caused by the alcohol. You’re going to lock it away in a forgotten corner of your mind, like you usually do when emotions are involved. Just pretend it never happened, stay cordial with the man if ever have to interact again. It should be easy enough. 

Right? 

——————————

Joel is cruelly pulled out of sleep by a series of booming knocks. He sits up abruptly, in a panic, instinctively reaching at his side for a weapon but his fingers grasp only the pilled fabric of bed sheets. It takes a moment to situate himself, to remember he is out of danger. Whoever’s behind the noise doesn’t give him reprieve to slow down his pulse, however. Another round of knocks erupts as a muffled, irritated voice travels up to his bedroom. 

“JOEL! HELLO? JOEELLLLL! WAKE UP!” It’s unmistakably Ellie. 

The kid can be so damn loud for her size. Joel grumbles a string of curses, hurries out of bed and down the stairs despite strained muscles and the beginning of a migraine he’s certain will be terrible. He’s too old for hangovers like this. He jogs through the hallway, gets to the back door and flings it open before Ellie pipes up again. She’s standing on the porch, bundled up in her purple puffer jacket. Her balled fists are suspended in the air, mid-movement. 

“WHAT?” He yells, making Ellie flinch. He immediately regrets his tone.

“Shit, no need to be rude,” the girl replies, arms dropping to her sides. 

“Sorry, kid. You almost gave me a heart attack,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “What’s up?” 

She gets straight to the point. “My heating’s busted. Can you fix it?”

Joel scoffs. “Good morning, Ellie! Happy new year to you too.” 

“Uh, it’s almost 1 PM. And I didn’t think you celebrated,” Ellie answers matter-of-factly. 

Little smartass. 

Joel makes the motion to close the door in her face, but she’s faster and grabs the outer handle. 

“Hey come on! It’s like 2 degrees in there!” She shouts. 

Ellie stares up at him, impatient. Joel doesn’t budge. She sighs. “Please,” she mumbles, breaking eye contact. 

Joel smirks. It’s exactly what he wanted to hear. He keeps her hanging for another few seconds before answering : “Okay.” 

Ellie rolls her eyes. 

“I still got Tommy’s tools. Can you wait 10 minutes?” He’s just giving Ellie a hard time, and she knows it. He’d do anything to help her, no matter what it entailed; he’s done a hell of a lot more than repair a broken heater. 

“Yeah, sure, just drill me out of the block of ice,” Ellie says, spinning on her heels and walking off towards the garage that's been converted into her living quarters. 

Joel smiles, watching her go. He gets back into the house and does his best to clean up in the bathroom while avoiding looking in the mirror. He still feels like he’s been run over by a truck, and sleeping the day off is very inviting, but he can’t just let the girl freeze. And the work will keep him busy, distract him from the pain. He puts on a coat over the clothes that he slept in, the same ones he was wearing at the tavern; he hadn’t bothered changing out of them after coming home. He ties his boots with difficulty and grabs the toolbox from a storage shelf in the utility room. He borrowed it from Tommy a few weeks ago when the upstairs bathroom nearly flooded, and hasn’t returned it yet. He makes a mental note of it. Joel’s house is a fixer upper for sure, but he’s done his best over the last six months, and it’s starting to become less of a temporary shelter and more of a home, something he never would have thought possible. Ellie’s presence at such a short distance definitely plays a role. He’s not hurt by the fact she insisted on having her separate space; he doesn’t think they’d have done well trying to fit into a normal family dynamic. That’s not what they are. And besides, he’s just happy she’s still talking to him, after what happened at the hospital. Joel brushes off the thought as he crosses the back garden, counting the steps it takes to reach the garage. There’s exactly thirteen. As always. 

He lets himself in. Ellie’s waiting, laying on the loveseat wrapped in her duvet. She wasn’t lying; it’s glacial inside and Joel can see his breath. Ellie’s lit a fire in the wood stove, resourceful as she is, but it’s not doing much. 

“Took you long enough,” she says, barely audible as half her face is covered by the blanket.

“Hey. Drop the attitude.” Joel orders, but a little smile curves up his lips. Ellie returns it. He can’t stay mad at her and she’s proud of it. 

Joel looks around the room. Ellie’s bed is unmade, stripped of its cover; clothes are piling on a chair, random objects scattered around her desk, from coloured pencils to a used plate and utensils. Her guitar is held up by a sturdy stand in a corner, pristine; it’s apparent Ellie takes good care of it. And there, on the coffee table, a good amount of crumbs, and four empty bottles of beer. His gaze lingers on them long enough for Ellie to notice. 

“Um, Cat came over last night she brought those, her mom was totally okay with it-” Ellie overexplains, the words coming out quickly. 

Joel raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t say anythin’.” He likes that she gets anxious, it shows that she cares about his opinion, and doesn't want him to be disappointed. But how could he be? He’d do much worse than drinking a beer or two if he’d gone through as much as Ellie has at her age. “What’d you guys get up to?” Joel asks as he moves towards the space heater, plugged in a wall outlet not far from the loveseat. Ellie relaxes. 

“Uh, we just watched a movie. Back to the Future,” she replies. Joel smiles. He’d found it out on a run and gave it to Ellie as a Christmas present. “Cat had such a crush on Marty. It was pretty funny,” the girl adds. 

“And you didn’t?” He teases as he kneels in front of the heater, his back screaming in agony, and sets the toolbox down on the cold cement floor. 

“Nah. Not my type.” Ellie shifts in her seat to get a good view of Joel. He starts by trying the power switch, to no avail. “I already did that,” she tells him in a condescending tone. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Joel mutters. He takes out a screwdriver and finds the appropriate bit before starting to work on taking the heater apart. He opens up the electrical box and begins testing out the various components, face drawn out in concentration. Ellie observes him quietly for a few minutes, chewing on a nail. Joel’s completely focused on the pieces he’s turning over in his hands. 

And then, he hears Ellie’s voice behind him again. “So. You were out pretty late last night,” she points out. 

Joel freezes up, caught off guard. The tool he’s holding drops to the ground, clattering. 

Last night. Fucking Hell. 

Glimpses of the drunken evening assault his brain. Bribes of your conversation, how natural it felt talking to you. The sound of your laughter. How your eyes lit up when you smiled. The blushes you tried to hide. Your hands on his shoulders. 

How smooth your lips were. 

Wait. 

The way the night ended suddenly comes back. A rush of anger, shame, and guilt engulfs him, the same one that pushed him to abandon you about ten hours ago. He has to stop himself from screaming, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut. Why the fuck did he do that? How could he let you get so close? When did he get so weak as to let his walls down that much the second a pretty woman talks to him? And why did it feel so damn good? 

Joel fights to somewhat regain his composure, to act casual as he replies to Ellie. He clears his throat and picks the tool back up. “Uh, yeah. Just out at the tavern with Tommy,” he deflects.

“Hm.” Ellie pauses, letting Joel think she’s off the scent. But then, she questions : “Just Tommy?”

Nervosity is added to the boiling pot of emotions, lighting up the wick of a bomb Joel’s trying his hardest not to let explode. 

What does the kid know? 

He struggles to recall another memory. Your friend, the tall blonde one who’s another patroller, she saw you too together. Not what happened outside, but enough to raise suspicion, Joel’s ninety-nine percent certain of it. 

He breathes slowly before answering. “Yup.” He attempts to be firm, but he can hear the hesitation in his own voice. So he busies himself with the heater again. 

“Well,” Ellie starts, but Joel cuts her off, not taking any chances.

“Didn’t you have farm duty today?” He changes the subject abruptly, pulling at a wire. 

“Uh, yeah, I went already. They let me off early,” Ellie says, “I heard something interesting though.” Joel can practically see the smirk on her face from where he is crouched, but he refuses to look her in the eyes. 

Damn it.

He stays silent. Ellie continues. “You were…dancing? With someone?” She adds your name, inquiring. 

Joel tightens his grip on the tool handle, knuckles turning white. “You don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” he utters. “We weren’t dancing.” He keeps his gaze stubbornly stuck to the heater. 

Ellie holds back a laugh. “But you were with her?” She keeps up the interrogation.

The wick of the bomb burns more. “Just havin’ a conversation. With a coworker. I don’t know who told you that, but it ain’t true,” he replies harshly. 

Ellie snorts. “Uh-huh. Okay. That’s-”

“Ellie. Stop.” Joel threatens, finally snapping his head up to glare at the girl. And the expression is enough to make her understand he isn’t joking. She listens to the command and shuts right up, however, she doesn’t lose the mocking grin. 

He huffs, returning to the task. He’s mulling over everything in his head, beating himself up to a pulp, when Ellie decides to pick up her guitar. She begins practising Future Days, the song Joel has been teaching her. The notes are unsteady, the rhythm choppy, but the music is like a balm over Joel’s mind, soothing it. It helps him calm down, and soon enough, he finds the source of the heater’s malfunction : the fan is clogged with dust and debris. He dislodges it from the mechanism and cleans it out with a rag, whistling along to Ellie’s playing. He puts the pieces back together and wipes his hands on his jeans, before trying the power switch once more. The heater hums into life. 

Ellie breathes a sigh of relief and puts down the guitar. “Oh fuck yeah.” 

“Language,” Joel reprimands her. Ellie sticks out her tongue at him. He puts away the tools he’s used and stands up with the toolbox, knees creaking. 

“Hey, thanks, Joel,” the girl says timidly, taking off the layers she’d put on, “and, uh, sorry I woke you up.” She’s genuine. 

“It’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.” He awkwardly claps his free hand on his thigh, unsure if he should stay longer. He’d like to, but he doesn’t want to impose, or make it weird. 

“You should go shower. You look like shit,” Ellie quips. “And we got dinner with Maria and Tommy later,” she adds. 

“Hmm. Right,” he groans; he’d completely forgotten. He’s never wanted to do anything less in his life. The day just keeps getting better.

He follows Ellie’s advice once he’s back inside his house. As the hot water runs over his tired skin, he takes time to reflect, and he makes a decision. The encounter with you was simply a product of intoxication. The old, rusted feelings it stirred up within him were, too. It’s just been very long since he’s done anything…intimate. With anyone. That must explain it. He’s got to convince himself of that. Because the other alternative terrifies him, fills him with dread, and he can’t afford that. Not again. Not after Tess. So, he’s going to ignore it, push it away, bury it deep at the back of his mind, enough that it can’t affect him anymore. Just pretend it never happened, go back to the way he treated you before. Cold. Indifferent. He’s done that countless times. 

Right.

It should be easy enough. 

——————————

It has been two weeks. Two weeks that you’ve succeeded in avoiding Joel at all costs, and the weather has definitely helped. Winter has been ruthless, the temperature dropping below zero most mornings, the snowfall almost incessant, isolating the town. It’s mostly a positive; it prevents infected, or hunters, or worse, from discovering it. Survivors have been staying in as much as possible, going out only when absolutely necessary. You did your part with helping plough the snow on your horse, a dapple grey mare named Willow; Maria had assigned time slots to the capable survivors. Thankfully, you and Joel weren’t scheduled on the same one. You haven’t crossed paths with the man since New Year’s Eve, and you’re perfectly content with that. 

Well, that isn’t the full truth. There’s a part of you that incomprehensibly wishes you could see him again. You absolutely despise it, and you’ve made an immense effort to silence those thoughts when they seize you. But they come often. Too often. You’ve thrown yourself into tasks, hobbies, anything to occupy your mind. Needless to say, your house has been extremely tidy lately, you’ve listened through your record collection multiple times, finished the novel you were reading (The Count of Monte Cristo which you had previously barely made a dent it), and started on at least three paintings which you hated and scrapped, and you’re not one to waste supplies. If the thoughts are hard to control during the day, it becomes impossible at night. 

You’ve…dreamed about Joel. Doing things to you that you wouldn’t dare say out loud, to anyone, your inner thighs moist upon waking up. You think you might be going completely insane. So, you’re almost excited for your upcoming patrol, and the extended distraction it’ll provide.

It’s the evening of Sunday, January 14th, 2035. The sky is clear for once, the sun has started setting behind the mountains, casting Jackson in frigid twilight. You’re speed walking towards town hall, the icy wind piercing right through your coat, chilling you to the bone. Your scarf is pulled up to your nose, the flaps of your trapper hat down and tied, thick mittens protecting your hands. You reach the building in record time, its short clock tower illuminated. You pull the heavy door and get in, a gust of warmth from the heating blasted at maximum immediately relieving. The room is spacious, cosy, with a stone hearth at the back where a fire is crackling, chairs stacked in a corner, and a long table with a tall thermos of chicory coffee and some cups strewn about. You go up to the large rolling bulletin board standing in the middle of the room, where various organisational documents for the community are pinned. A handful of survivors are already gathered around it. One of them, a teenager with a long black braid, olive skin and sharp features (Tina? Or something similar), is adding a flyer to it, advertising her services to shovel pathways for trade. Brave move. You greet the group and look over to the patroller’s duty roster for the week. You’ve set for Hoback Pass, tomorrow, with Astrid. You spot Joel’s name on the list; he’s with Tommy, as usual, for Teton Village, at the end of the week. No chance of overlap. 

Good. Great. Wonderful. 

You don’t stay around much longer; you need to prepare for the next day’s run. Astrid likes to get an early start, and she’ll want to plan strict routes before leaving. You’ve forgiven her for snitching on what she saw you do at New Year’s Eve; she was drunk too, and she hasn’t mentioned it since. Max must have convinced her she hallucinated it, for your sake. So you go back out into the cold, empty streets, now plunged in darkness. 

You met Astrid when she arrived in Jackson around three years ago, along with Fred. The two are like siblings; after the outbreak, they were raised in a small settlement in the Eastern Idaho forest. The group had left camp when resources were becoming scarce, travelling south in hopes of finding a new safe haven. Upon reaching Jackson, the two women were the only ones left alive. You don’t know the exact circumstances in which they lost their loved ones, but the reality is all too familiar to most people in this world. At least these two still have each other. You weren’t so lucky with that. Sometimes, when you look at them, you can’t help but get a glimpse of a future you were cruelly robbed of. In these instances, you’re hit with a burning, gut-wrenching pang of jealousy. You try not to dwell on it; it’s a useless sentiment and it’s impossible to get her back. 

You jog up to your house a few minutes later. After a quick dinner, you put together your pack, checking items off a mental list: canteen, munitions, a few rations, first aid kit, flint rod, rope, hand-crank radio… You’re sharpening your knife, sitting at the dining room table, when you’re interrupted by a knock. You cross the hallway, puzzled, and undo the chain to crack open the front door. Tommy’s standing on the other side, bouncing on the spot, rapid breaths coming out in white volutes. 

“Uh, hey,” you say, surprised to see him there.

“Hey,” he replies, “sorry to bother you this late.” 

“Oh, it’s fine. What’s up?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile. You’ve known Tommy ever since you first came to Jackson. He’s the patrol chief; the one who teached you at your beginnings on the job. You like him as a leader; he’s fair, direct, dependable, and he’s got a sense of humour. He’s a good balance to Maria, who can be a bit too stern at times. 

“Uh, well, it’s about your patrol tomorrow. I know you’re supposed to go with Astrid, but I’m gonna have to send her to train Jesse instead,” he explains, talking fast. 

Jesse is the newest recruit. He’s a determined, strong young man who joined in late November, just as he turned eighteen, the required age for patrolling. He’s gone out with Astrid on practice runs a couple times before; she had volunteered to mentor him. 

You furrow your brows. “Oh. Alright, sure, that’s okay. Uh, you want me to go by myself?”

“Uh, no” Tommy answers,“too risky with all the snow. I was gonna send Joel. You guys work well together and he knows Hoback.”

Your stomach drops.

Fuck.

Your expression must have changed noticeably, because Tommy tilts his head, perplexed.

“Somethin’ the matter?” He inquires. 

You blink a few times, recovering from the blow. “Uh, yeah. I- I mean no. Just-” you search for the right words, “can’t Astrid do it another day?”

“Not really. We need Jesse ready ASAP. Why? Problem with Joel?” He asks, a hint of concern in his voice. 

You pause, wondering whether to tell him the truth. Ultimately, you decide it would just create a bigger problem. “No, no, nevermind. All good,” you lie, averting Tommy’s eyes. 

The man doesn’t seem convinced. “Alright… You know, it’s funny. Joel didn’t seem too happy either when I told ´im.”

So he’s been thinking about you too. He remembers. This makes it so much worse. You give a nervous chuckle in response, and attempt a joke. “Is he ever?” 

Tommy snorts. “Yeah, you ain’t wrong.” He claps his gloved hands together. “Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning for briefing then.”

You give him a nod and he imitates you before walking off. You close the door behind him and rest your forehead against the hard surface, banging it a few times. You yell out in frustration. What did you just get yourself into? 

That night, you restlessly lay in bed, tossing and turning, your mind racing, agitated, unable to shut itself off. You don’t get any sleep. 

Joel doesn’t either. 

You’re already exhausted by the time you’re out of the door the next morning, right at sunrise, which just intensifies your terrible mood. You stride down the street towards Jackson’s main gate, in full winter gear, pack hanging off a shoulder. The town is a muted grey, misty; a few snowflakes are slowly falling from heavy clouds. It matches your emotional state. You’re hoping to be the first one at the stables, giving you time to blow off some steam. But, upon arrival, you discover that the object of your torment has had the same idea. Joel’s saddling his horse, Old Beardy, an imposing black-coated male. 

The bastard. 

You curse him out in your head, your heartbeat quickening as you approach.  You walk past him, heading towards Willow’s enclosure. Neither you nor Joel acknowledges the other. Willow neighs softly when she sees you, and you go to pet her on the nose, hyper aware of the man standing about twenty feet away from you. You quietly tend to your horse for a few minutes, every sound coming from Joel irritating you, before you finally dare steal a glance over at him. Right as you do so, he turns his head back quickly, caught in the act. 

So that’s how it’s gonna go, huh? 

You tie your pack to a hook on Willow’s saddle, your movements sharp, heated. Once you’re done, you take the horse’s reins and guide her out of the stable, passing by Joel once again; his back tenses as you do so, and you hear him sigh loudly. The feeling’s mutual.

You decide to take Willow for a trot around town while you wait for the other patrollers to show up. You don’t think you could stay there with Joel, in thick silence, pointlessly wondering what it is he’s thinking; it would drive you mad. You come back half an hour later, not an ounce more calm, as Tommy is about to start his report. You make sure to stand as far away from Joel as you can while you listen. The words enter one ear and come out the other; you’re too preoccupied with someone else. You’ve heard the speech a hundred times anyway: stay within sight of your partner, follow the routes, mark the logbooks, come back if you run into something you can’t handle. Once Tommy’s done, he gives the signal for the two townsfolk on guard duty to crank open the gate. You stick your right foot in the stirrup and hoist yourself up on Willow’s back, positioning yourself on the saddle. You let the other patrol team go first, staying behind, immobile, side by side with Joel. You’re not going to make the first move. And he doesn’t either. So you look over at him, and this time, he holds your gaze, fire ablaze in his deep brown eyes. Glowering. Taunting. Scornful. After thirty seconds, Tommy, posted at the wall, yells out to you.

“Guys! What are you waitin’ for? Get goin’!” 

Joel capitulates first. He urges Old Beardy forward, not giving you another sight, as you internally scream in victory. You follow behind. 

“Have a good one! Stay safe!” One of the guards says, as you pass the threshold. You have to hold yourself back from replying “We won’t.” Joel and you ride out of Jackson. 

This day is about to be really fucking unpleasant. 

Next chapter

To read on AO3

[sm0lprism]

Bite-Sized (1) - A G/t BG3 Fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Summary: Taken place during Act 1 of Baldur's Gate 3. Meet Ria, a 10 centimetre tall (4 inches) borrower who is trying her best to survive out in the wilderness of Faerûn without being crushed underfoot, squashed, or eaten. Astarion, weak with hunger, manages to catch a whiff of Ria's scent, and driven by his bloodlust he tracks her down with the intention of eating her. Of course, things get a little complicated when Gale becomes involved.

[Picture does not belong to me, found on @/dailyastarionpictures]

Pairing: Astarion x borrower!oc (Tav) (slow-burn, Astarion is a complete ass but eventually comes round in future chapters)

Warnings: V*re mention, mouthplay, fearplay, blood, swearing/course language, blood drinking, Astarion is a real asshole to little people/borrowers and doesn't see them as people so be prepared for him being awful.

Word count: 2.5k

Foreboding shadows of ancient trees casted over the small borrower as she fumbled through the foliage on the forest floor. Gnarly roots protruding from the earthy ground threatened to trip her with each hasty step that she took as her breathing quickened. Ria knew for a fact that something – or someone – was stalking her.

She had become so used to the sensation of being watched by hungry predators throughout her young life that she could almost sense when she was being followed. Every single hair on the back of her neck stood up as she swallowed thickly. Being only a mere 10 centimetres tall made her very easy prey to just about everything that dwelled in the dark forest, and there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that if she didn’t act swiftly, she was going to end up as a midnight snack very soon. Pressing forward, she soon felt small tremors rattle the earth below her feet like tiny earthquakes. Her heart leaping into her throat, she knew that this only meant one thing: whoever was following her was very close. She forced her legs to run faster, adrenaline now spiking her blood as she let her flight or fight response take over. Panic flared in her chest with each approaching tremor, each one getting stronger and more violent than the last.

Her gaze darted around the forest floor feverishly looking for anywhere that she may be able to quickly hide in to prevent her grim demise. She immediately spotted a thicket of thorns – prickly and painful, yes, but that might deter the hungry predator that was gaining on her rapidly. Without second thought, Ria dived into the thorn bush headfirst and immediately felt stabbing pain at her sides. The thorns tore through her clothing and sliced open her skin, her blood now dripping on the ground, but she pushed through it. She was determined not to die as a late-night snack. Grimacing in pain, she pulled herself as deep into the thorn bush as she could muster. Blood now stained her clothing as she glanced down at her wounds, feeling the wetness of her blood on her fingertips. Forcing herself not to cry, she held her breath, anxiously waiting to see if she would in fact live to see another day. The rattling tremors grew ever closer, causing her entire body to vibrate with each footfall.

Wait a minute – footfall? As in, bipedal? Human?

She shook her head. No, humans didn’t eat borrowers. It had to be something else. Something more carnivorous. Something that was intent on following her through the bush just to track her down and eat her. It made her stomach churn. Peering through the twisting thorny stems of the bush, she was just able to see what was outside thanks to the glowing full moon that shone from above.

A pair of dark leather boots appeared in her vision just outside from her spot in the thorn bush. Of course, she couldn’t see the owner of the boots, but just seeing the giant footwear made her heart almost stop right then and there.

“Come now, little one, this would be so much easier if you just surrendered right now.” A loud, masculine voice blared through her eardrums. The voice, however, was not what she was expecting. It had this sort of flair to it that she couldn’t quite describe. But either way, it didn’t deter from her impending fate. She sucked in a sharp breath and hoped that whoever it was would turn away.

“I can smell your blood, darling.” The voice rumbled from above like thunder. “My gods, it smells positively divine. Getting all bloodied up for a vampire is truly flattering, it’s almost as if you want me to bite you in half!”

Vampire!?

Of all the creatures that had to be hunting her down, of course it had to be a vampire. Vampires were known to eat borrowers in a multitude of different ways – biting their heads off to drain the remaining blood, biting them in half, or just simply straight up eating them. An icy chill snaked down her spine as she realised just exactly what she was dealing with. And she had made it even easier for him to find her by smearing her blood everywhere. This couldn’t get any worse.

A tsk tsk tsk noise resonated from above. “I suppose we’re doing this hard way, aren’t we?”

The hard way?!

A piercing scream filled her lungs as the protective thorn bush was practically torn open revealing the vampire in question. Before Ria had a moment to react, a giant hand came crashing down from above and immediately enclosed around her body into a tight fist, yanking her out of her protective thorn casing as if it were nothing. The vampire held her tightly in his grasp, slowly bringing her close to his watchful gaze. Thrashing in his tight vice-like grip, she cried out in protest but to no avail. The icy coldness from the vampire’s skin soon seeped through her clothing and she forcefully supressed a shiver. There was not a single chance that she would be able to escape now. Steadying her rapid breathing, she finally met the gaze of her captor. Piercing giant red orbs met hers and she shuddered out a breath. The man that held her had strikingly pale skin that had an almost ethereal quality to it. His face was sharp and angular, with a cheeky smirk that revealed elongated canine teeth that glimmered white in the moonlight. Long, silvery-white curls framed his perfectly chiselled facial features, contrasting evidently with his crimson blood eyes.

Ria almost forgot to breathe. If the circumstances were different, and she wasn’t going to be his dinner, she would outrightly admit that the man was gorgeous.

“Oh, a little starstruck are we?” The vampire chimed playfully, his smirk growing ever wider, noticing her demeanour. “I can’t say I blame you. I do have that effect on people.”  

Ria opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t muster anything that resembled a single sentence. Blood was still leaking out from her multiple cuts making her feel a little light-headed at the blood-loss.

“I must say, I have never actually seen a borrower in person before,” the vampire continued, his loud voice rattling her tiny ribcage with each word he uttered. “I can’t believe just how small you are, I mean, you’re literally bite-sized. How perfect is that?”

The word ‘bite-sized’ shot an arrow of panic straight through her chest. Coming to her senses, her words finally found her.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” A mixture of anger and fear swelled in her chest as the words literally spat out of her mouth.

The vampire’s eyebrows shot up at hearing her outcry, but it only made his grin grow wider. Her outburst, for whatever reason, seemed to please him deeply. “Wow, such a venomous bark for such a small thing. Perhaps if you use some manners I may reconsider,” he chuckled darkly. “I believe I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Astarion, and you are?”

Baffled at the vampire’s question, her brain attempted to process what was going on. Was he seriously threatening to eat her and exchange names at the same time? This was hardly the time to be formal and polite, but perhaps if it extended her lifespan just a little, she would play along.

“My name is R-Ria,” she managed to splutter out. “Astarion is a very pretty name.”  

“Changing your tone now, are we?” Astarion replied with a devilish smile. “But flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere in this situation, I’m afraid. Please don’t take this personally, I'm too weak to hunt right now and you’re the easiest snack I could find. All I need is a drop, then that will give me just enough energy to find something more filling.” He paused, licking his tongue over his upper lip. “However, I can’t deny that your scent alone has me salivating already.”

Ria could feel the remaining colour that was left in her face drain away. She attempted to squirm out of his enclosed fist but he only gripped onto her even tighter, threatening to crush her ribcage in his cold grasp.

“Oh, come now, it won’t be so bad,” he said playfully. “It’ll be over before you know it. But before I do, I cannot ignore the blood you already spilled for me. It’d be a shame for that to go to waste.” His gaze raked over her bloodied arms and legs from the thornbush, the blood still oozing from her open wounds.

He suddenly brought her closer towards his face, now filling her entire vision. Hungry crimson eyes stared at her open wounds and he parted his mouth. Stifling back a scream, she could only watch in horror as the tip of his tongue licked the entirety of her wounded arm, lapping up every morsel of her blood that was stained on her skin.

A low moan escaped past his lips and vibrated through the still air as he licked the blood from the multiple cuts across her arm. It didn’t take him long to start lapping at her other wounds along her legs and other arm with the tip of his tongue, savouring every drop that he could find across her skin.

Fortunately, his tongue stopped once all the blood has been licked clean from her exposed skin. At this point, her heart was on the verge of exploding as she realised that she had just been taste tested by a vampire. Hyperventilating rapidly, she glanced down at the parts of her body that she could see in his enclosed fist – noticeably, she could feel that he had only licked her wounds on the lower part of her arms and legs, and very thankfully, not on the middle or near her chest.

“My, my, darling, you taste absolutely delicious,” he hummed with delight, his tongue running across his upper lip with satisfaction. “It is true what they say about borrower blood being so tasty. I can’t believe I’ve been deprived of something like this for so long.”

“Just wait!” Ria finally managed to cry out, tears pricking her eyes. She expected Astarion to ignore her plea, but he remained silent, save for the still ever hungry gaze that lingered in his red eyes.

“Are you sure you want to eat me right now?” she continued, her heart spasming in her chest. “I-I mean, once you eat me, then there’ll be no more left. Shouldn’t something as tasty as me be savoured?”

Astarion remained silent for a few more seconds. She could see the conflicting thoughts dancing across his expression as he mulled the situation over.

“Hmm, I know this is you clearly trying to delay your untimely death, but you do have a point.” His gaze flickered back to Ria’s bloody wounds along her limbs. “But I am in desperate need for a midnight snack, I’m afraid. I would say better luck next time, but I suppose there won’t be a next time for you, will there?”

“Please, oh gods, I don’t want to die!” Ria shrieked at the top of her tiny lungs, tears now flooding down her face like a torrential river. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, but just don’t eat me!”  

“Hush now, my dear, it’ll be all over soon. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

All Ria could do was watch in utter terror as Astarion opened his mouth wide as his enormous fangs inched closer towards her trembling body. He had her now pinched in between his index finger and thumb, bringing her inside his mouth like she was some kind of tiny finger sandwich.

“Oh fuck, no, please, no!” Ria screamed at the top of her lungs as the front half of her body entered the vampire’s mouth. She thrashed in the vampire’s grip, but it was utterly useless – she had no strength over the giant man. Closing her eyes, her lip trembled, as she slowly began to accept her fate. There was nothing more that she could do. This was the end for her.

“ASTARION!”

A loud, unfamiliar voice pierced the still night air, and Astarion quickly removed Ria from inside his mouth. She immediately felt Astarion tighten his grip around her body as a man emerged into the moonlight. The man had shoulder length brown hair, with purple robes and his jawline was brushed with stubble.

Astarion immediately made a face of pure disgust. “Hello, Gale.”

“What in the gods name are you doing?” The man, Gale, stepped forward. He quickly noticed the tiny borrower that was enclosed in Astarion’s fist. His gaze flickered back to the pale elf with anger.

“Astarion, is that a borrower in your hand?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Astarion said, hiding Ria behind his back so that she was out of Gale’s sight. “A borrower? Can’t say I’ve heard of them before.”

Gale exhaled a frustrated sigh. “Astarion, stop with the bullshit. I saw one in your hand. What were you going to do to them?”

“H-HELP-!“ Ria managed to choke out before she was smothered by Astarion’s cold fingers closing around her tiny form.

“Hand the borrower over, Astarion, or do I have to use magic to get you to cooperate?” Gale persisted, his anger quickly rising.

Astarion pouted like a child handing over stolen candy. “Fine, take her. I wasn’t going to eat her, if that’s what you’re so worried about.” He brought Ria out from behind his back and opened his palm, revealing the tiny borrower.

“He absolutely was going to eat me!” Ria retorted. 

“You were going to eat her?” The wizard gaped, quickly moving Ria from Astarion’s hand onto his. “For fuck’s sake, Astarion, we told you that you aren’t allowed to feed from people, only animals!”

“Fine, so what if I was?” Astarion exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “Besides, borrowers hardly count as people! They’re no different from halflings or gnomes, they’re just smaller.”

“We’re going to have a chat once we’re back at camp,” Gale pinched the bridge in between his nose with his free hand. “I’m so sorry about him. Did he harm you?”

Ria was almost at a loss for words. She was still shaking from everything that had happened. Swallowing back her chattering nerves, she craned her neck to look up at the wizard. “T-thank you, he didn’t hurt me, well, he almost did, but…” Her gaze drifted over to the cuts across her limbs from the thornbush. “I do have these cuts, but they weren’t from him.”

Gale noticed her wounds and glared daggers at Astarion. “I hardly believe that it wasn’t him that did this to you, but I’ll take your word for it. I can take you back to our camp, our cleric, Shadowheart, will have those wounds healed in no time.” He smiled warmly at her. “I’m Gale, but I suppose you already know that. What’s your name?”

“I’m Ria,” she answered thickly, her body still trembling. “A-and thank you, I appreciate all your help.”

“Oh no, it’s the least I can do after the trauma my friend most likely put you through. Let’s get going.” Gale’s fingers enclosed around her frame protectively, and she could almost hear Astarion’s eyes roll into the back of his head as they walked through the forest. Whatever happened next, she prayed that the rest of Gale’s friends were nothing like Astarion.

[deandoesthingstome]

Hall Pass - Chapter 3

Paring: Henry Cavill x Reader (RPF)

Series Summary: You run into Henry Cavill at the start of a two-week house-sitting vacation. You had some previous plans. Some were ruined by your now ex-boyfriend. Some were made better. Guess by whom?

Series Warning and A/Ns: Check out the Masterlist

Playlist: I will add to Spotify with each chapter.

Word Count: 4K

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

You almost squealed with glee but somehow managed to keep composure while you finished drying off as Henry emerged from the water with one giant step up to the ledge. You did not miss a glance at his sculpted thighs and well-rounded ass. You and your friends called him thicc. 

With the towel still wrapped around you, you slipped your suit off before pulling on your comfy sweater. The ride back would suck if you put your clothes on over the damp suit, so while Henry made for the pine tree dressing room again, you stepped into your leggings. You would just suffer with no bra or underwear, not a big deal. And you’d have time for a quick rinse when you arrived back at the house after untacking the horses. 

Henry returned and helped you finish packing the saddlebags before giving you a boost up to Butterscotch. His firm, large hand gripped just a tad tighter around your ass than you thought strictly necessary to help you into the saddle but you were not going to argue about it.

Once he was settled in his saddle, you turned the horses home. Henry gave a whistle and Kal came bounding out from the trees. 

“Oh my God, I feel terrible! I completely forgot Kal was with us. Is it okay he was gone on his own for so long?” you asked with what you assumed was a look of horror on your face.

“Well, let’s see. Kal?” Henry called down. “Everything alright?” Kal gave a sharp, happy bark and ran around, leaping and bounding with abandon. Henry turned to you and offered a laugh to lighten your concern. “He seems perfectly fine.”

After arriving back at the house, you and Henry untacked the horses and headed inside for quick showers. For a brief moment, it seemed Henry was contemplating asking you to just join him in his shower.

“I think we’d end up missing the appointment after all,” you mused, to which Henry groaned just a little but acquiesced and headed into his guest room without you.

For maybe the first time in your life, you made it out of the room, showered and dressed before anyone else. And by anyone else, you meant Henry at this moment, who was clearly still behind a closed door and you did not want to knock, afraid to intrude so you set about stoking the morning's fire so it would be ready and roaring for the massages. 

When the team arrived, you asked David and Alexa to set up in front of the fireplace. You were about to go get Henry when your phone chimed.

ready?

Yup! You?

on my way

Henry strode into the room with such confidence you were almost blown away. He introduced himself and chatted with the massage therapists for a moment, putting them at ease with the obviously unexpected circumstances. He asked if they could understand why he’d like to ask for their complete discretion about the service and that for their trouble he was willing to triple their fee. 

When both David and Alexa were done picking their jaws off the floor, he asked for their full name and cell numbers and sent them on in a text, which he explained was to his assistant who would be sending standard NDAs in just a few moments if they could agree to spare a bit more time to organize everything before they got started.

He turned to you with a small apologetic smile and you mouthed a quiet “No worries. Me?” to which he gave a slow shake of his head. With the forms e-signed and the curtains drawn to darken the room as much as possible, you and Henry took turns disrobing and climbing onto the massage tables and under the modesty sheets.

When Alexa smoothed her hands down your back over the sheet, warming you up and preparing you for her actual touch, you couldn’t help but think there were probably three people in the room right now just barely containing themselves over the fact that Henry Cavill was mostly naked on a table next to them.

You took some deep breaths to try to push that thought out of your head and just focus on focusing on nothing except the way the strong hands swept down your back again once the sheet had been folded down. With just a few more deep, long strokes you were fully and completely in your head enjoying the massage and you stayed that way, almost oblivious to the movement beside you, until you heard a low moan.

You were snapped back to the reality that you were barely covered and getting a massage next to Henry Cavill. It took a few more moments to let that sound sink away and out of your consciousness as you returned once again to luxuriating in the relaxing motions. A little over halfway through, Alexa invited you to turn onto your back, holding the sheet in a way to shield you from both her eyes and those of anyone at the table next to you. As you settled back into a relaxed, prone state, you noticed David bent down in a hushed conversation with Henry, but again, you worked hard to remove any concern from your thoughts and just enjoy the moment.

With the short delay at the beginning, your 90-minute massage had reduced to about 80, but you were still just this side of sleep when Alexa pressed her hands gently into your collarbones with a deep exhale and thanked you quietly for the time.

You blinked your eyes open and thanked her as well, taking your own deep inhale and letting go of the last of any stress you had been feeling about the day and the situation. As you sat up, holding the sheet around you, you noticed Henry was still face down and David was just offering him a closing press on his shoulders and gracious thanks as well.

“I’m just gonna go get dressed,” you whispered to Alexa, who nodded and began packing her supplies. When you returned, Henry was gone and Alexa and David were just zipping the bags around their folding tables, giggling and chatting quietly. David noticed you and cleared his throat.

“I just have to ask. I know this wasn’t the name of the person originally booked for this appointment. I would have remembered that. How is Henry Cavill in your home right now?”

You gave a gentle laugh as you handed the now folded sheet to Alexa. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, you are one lucky lady. This may be the best thing that has ever happened to me in my dull, short life,” he beamed.

“But you’re keeping it quiet, right? I would hate for something to get out about this and ruin anything for him,” you asked with a subtle hint of concern.

“Who’s ruining what for whom?” Henry’s voice reverberated through your chest as he reentered the room, now clothed in sweatpants and a comfy looking sweater.

“Mum’s the word,” David replied, motioning as if to lock his mouth and throw away the key.

“Well, may I help you out with your equipment?” Henry asked.

“Oh, lord, no. And have you ruin any progress we made easing those back muscles? Absolutely not.”

“Well, then, here.” Henry held out his hand and small stack of folded bills. “For all your trouble.”

“Thank you very much.” David took a sheepish peek at the amount before he let out a small gasp. “This is really too…”

“Exactly what we agreed to and you two deserve,” Henry interrupted. “I sincerely appreciate it.”

Alexa and David loaded their equipment and left with the rather large sum of money Henry just randomly had available on his person. You were amazed.

“Alright then, what say you let me make you a sandwich tonight,” Henry offered. “I’m sure not the anniversary dinner you had planned, but there is no reason for you to slave over a stove for me again tonight, and I think something light sounds perfect. Okay?”

You didn’t argue. You were so relaxed, and besides, you’d already used the sauce meant for tonight on dinner the night before. So there was no longer a planned anniversary meal available anyway.

If Henry’s mind was already back on the connection made in the hot spring, he didn’t show it. He was friendly and cheery as he crafted two tremendous looking sandwiches and grabbed some cut veggies for a side. He popped the cork on a nice bottle of white he found chilling in the fridge and poured two glasses before dishing a bowl of kibble for Kal.

You took your plates and drinks to the great room and Henry stoked the fire again before sitting down to eat. You made more pleasant conversation, completely avoiding the elephant in the room: that Henry Cavill had made serious passes at you earlier in the day and that he was likely going to continue his efforts once dinner was done and dishes were put away.

You were not wrong. As you closed the cabinet where you stashed the newly dried plates, you felt his presence as Henry stepped behind you. You turned to face him and leaned back against the counter with a smile.

“May I kiss you again? Now?” he asked and you just nodded, still at a loss for the words to explain how this was happening to you at the moment.

Henry took a step closer, caging you in his arms as he placed his hands on the counter to either side of your waist and bent to place his lips against yours. This kiss was more insistent than that at the hot spring, as if he had been holding back and now decidedly wasn’t. Neither were you.

You closed your eyes and let him taste you, relishing the feel of his tongue along yours. The soft moan only spurred him on and it wasn’t long before you felt him place his hands on your hips and lift you to sit on the counter. You opened your eyes to watch him step inside your thighs, spreading your legs so he could ease his way closer to your core, where you now felt the length and firmness of his obviously hard cock.

Henry pulled away, leaving your lips longing for him. The way he tilted his head left and bent ever closer to lick and nibble at your neck made up for the loss. When he found the spot he was looking for, you felt him smile against your skin as you let out another moan, louder and filled with want.

“The things I’d like to do to you,” Henry whispered into your ear with a low growl.

“I'm pretty sure I’ll let you,” you responded, then gasped as he moved your legs around his hips and stepped back from the counter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders, hanging on while he made his way out of the kitchen and into the bedroom hallway, where he paused for a brief moment.

“Yours,” you suggested, with a chuckle. “I’m not sure the twin in mine will sustain you.”

“You’ve slept in a twin bed because of me?” he asked, with a hint of mortification.

“It’s fine, please do not start apologizing again. Could we just…?” you nodded your head toward his room and pleaded with your eyes for him to keep moving you in the direction of assured bliss.

Henry laughed, then dipped his head to kiss you again, pressing you back into the wall behind you. He finally made his way into his room, stepping to the bed and depositing you at the edge before reaching for the hem of his sweater and lifting it over his head. You reached for him as he dropped it to the floor, almost touching his chest before drawing your hand back. Henry grabbed your wrist and flattened your palm to his torso.

“If I didn’t want your touch, I don’t think we’d be here.”

“It felt a little like I was treating you like an animal at a petting zoo. I thought I ought to ask first,” you admitted.

“Appreciated. You don’t need to ask anymore. I think we’re a little past that now, don’t you?”

“Maybe. I’ll still probably ask a few things,” you smirked, dragging your hand down his impossibly firm chest and over his belly. “Like, can I take these down?” You gripped the waistband of his sweats, fingers tucked against his skin and thumb pressing on the fabric. At his nod, you began to pull, using your other hand to nudge the pants down his thighs while you tried to avoid catching them on his engorged member. 

You did this all by feel, your eyes still locked onto his, watching as they darkened with lust. When you could finally tear your gaze away, it fell to his waist where you couldn’t suppress an audible gasp. You had an inkling, seeing him in those tight swim trunks and feeling him against you, but you were not prepared for the specimen before you. 

Henry settled a hand under your jaw and tilted your head back toward his.

“We’ll take it slow. Don’t worry.” 

Hidden behind those words was the obvious fact that Henry was larger than any man you’d ever been with and he knew it. Also unspoken was the truth that he had likely been with many women who were unaccustomed to a man of his size and therefore he’d developed a skill for easing into it.

He started by making a motion to lift off your sweater. You hesitated to lift your arms, suddenly realizing that as much as you would never forgive yourself if you let this opportunity pass you by, you were maybe not as prepared as you thought you were.

“Still okay?”

You furrowed your brow and sought the words to help him understand you were absolutely not rejecting his advances in any way at the moment.

“It’s just…”

“Intimidating?” he asked, with no judgment in his tone.

“I mean, yes, but not in the way you might be thinking. I’m aware of my initial reaction, but, no…it’s…” How could you say this without falling back into a pit of despair about your recent relationship?

“Would it help if I pulled these up for now?” Henry asked, bending as if to grab his pants.

“No!” You cleared your throat and laughed a little. “I mean, no, please. I realize things are a little lopsided at the moment, but…”

“Why don’t you scoot back up on the bed?” he interrupted you, stepping all the way out of his pants as he watched you shift and crawl backwards at his urging. You could feel your heart beat faster as he kneeled onto the bed and made his way to your side. You did not hide the way your eyes watched all of him. 

“You know, I did see you in that swimsuit. And I do have quite the imagination, especially with the right inspiration in front of me. But we have time. If you’d rather wait a bit…”

“That’s just it, Henry. I don’t want to wait. I haven’t wanted to wait from the moment you got into your car and followed me back here yesterday. It’s just, well, you’re you and I’m me and, well it’s been a while, okay? Not like ‘years' a while, but certainly months…” God, this was bordering on humiliating again. You remembered that even when Jeremy had made it home from work trips, he’d ignored that aspect of your relationship. But you didn’t want to say his name again or even mention it in the current situation. What a fucking mood killer.

“How about I first tell you that how hard I am for you right now is exactly how hard I was thinking about you naked on that table next to me? It’s why I convinced David that all I cared about was a shoulder and back massage. I think I disappointed him a little.”

Your eyes went wide at the admission and you smiled affectionately. “You most certainly did not disappoint him.”

“Still nervous?” he asked, and you gave a small nod in return. “Then how about I just kiss you again for a bit?” Henry offered, propped on one elbow and the other hand on your hip. You nodded again as he leaned in and proceeded to kiss you with a skill you’d only experienced once before in your life and that was a few hours ago in a natural hot spring. 

The man was adept, there was no denying it. He nibbled softly at each lip, eased his tongue inside to open your mouth wider, slid his hand up your side to caress your neck and hold you in place while he launched into the sweetest assault possible.

His touch lit you on fire and his kiss had you moaning for more. More of his kiss. More of his caress. More of him. Minutes passed with his mouth on yours and you almost forgot for the time that Henry Cavill was naked in your bed while you were decidedly not. When he pulled away, dragging your bottom lip with him for a brief moment, your whimper made him chuckle.

“Feeling better?”

“Not now that you've stopped kissing me again, no” you answered with a small pout.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to keep kissing you, but what do you say we even the field here a bit? Up for it?”

You nodded with a lingering shyness, but vowed to just breathe deep and let him undress you. He sat you up and pulled your sweater over your head, dropping it to the floor behind him. He pressed you gently to your back again, dragging his palm down from your shoulder to your chest. Braless after the massage, you relished the way his fingertips glided over the swell of your breast and onto the nipple, palm molding to the shape and squeezing gently. You expected his mouth to return to yours, longed even for the talent of his tongue. But instead he dipped his head to capture your other breast in his lips, tongue circling the pebble and teeth teasing a bite.

You had enough will to watch his eyes flick to yours when he heard the hiss, but once you were sure he was sure you didn’t mind, you closed your lids slowly and let him kiss you this way instead. So taken with the feeling of heaven you were floating toward, you barely noticed the way his body moved over yours as he settled himself between your legs, kisses moving along your sternum and across your belly from side to side.

No, it wasn’t until you felt his grip on the waistband of your leggings, fingers brushing against your hips, that you realized he wasn’t coming back to kiss you like before. He apparently had another kind of kiss in mind and your eyes flew open to beg him to … what? Stop? No, you didn’t want him to stop. Not one bit.

And he knew it, too. This smirk felt different, cockier, less cautious.

“Alright if I take these off too?”

“Yes. God yes, please.”

There was something about the way he knew what he was doing that made your apprehension disappear completely. He had no trouble removing your leggings and replacing them with his arms as he wrapped your legs around his neck and lowered himself between your wide open legs, stretched to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders.

When he put his mouth against you, it was an explosion of sensation. Warm, wet, strong, searching, specific. He held you open so he could drag the tip of his tongue slowly all the way across from one side to the other and halfway back again before dipping it low to tease its way just inside you. And you heard him groan, felt him take another taste before pulling himself away to focus as much attention as he could on your clit. But he groaned again and now this was all you could hear. 

His sound reverberated through your pussy and you clenched around nothing but the ache you felt for him. 

“Henry,” you moaned. “God…”

“You taste amazing,” he managed before returning all his attention to licking and sucking every millimeter of your nether lips. When he finished, he went back to running his tongue along your slit seeking any juice that managed to escape before finally wrapping his lips tightly around your clit, sucking lightly then flicking his tongue against it. 

He continued each and every one of these motions for what seemed like a million years, moaning against you every now and then. Every prickle from his beard and mustache against the tender flesh of your thighs only served to heighten the sensations. When you were done screaming his name he gently held your bucking hips in place with a large palm as he shifted and crawled his way up and along your side. The pleasant burn left between your legs didn’t bother you one bit.

You turned breathless to meet his gaze and leaned forward to capture his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and reigniting the moans you had just tamped down.

“That good, eh?” he teased and you tapped his chest in fake protest.

“Please. Like you don't know by now how good you are at that.” You gave him another kiss before pressing your palm against his shoulder, nudging him to lay back so you could climb a leg over his waist and haul yourself up to straddle him, careful to set yourself away from his rock hard cock.

“I suppose that’s true. No use in pretending, clearly,” he winked at you and you laughed at how ridiculous the whole thing really was. 

“Do you want to show me what else you’re good at?” you asked in a suddenly low and provocative voice. Henry took note of the change and you saw his eyes darken again just before he grabbed your waist and moved to flip you over to cover you once again.

“Yes. I absolutely do. Will you wait right here?” He began to edge off the bed. “Don’t go anywhere. I mean it now, leave those legs exactly where they are.”

You were mesmerized at his insistence and offered no resistance, leaving your legs spread wide for him. You saw him bend over to reach for something in his bag and set to admiring the naked backside of Henry Cavill, here to fuck you already.

When he turned back to crawl onto the bed again, a handful of condoms spilling over next to you, you noticed the way he also smirked again, pleased to find you exactly where he’d asked you to stay. As if you could say not to this man.

Somehow he also produced a small tube of lube, which he also dropped next to the condoms as he moved to slide up next to you again, his chest pressed up against your side. He kissed you once hard as his fingers inched over your thigh and onto your awaiting pussy. He pulled away from your mouth so he could watch your face as he began to press a finger into your already soaking core.

Since he could see how good that felt for you, he went ahead and slipped a second finger inside so he could tease and twist and stretch you open, making way for him. He knew you were wet enough. There wasn’t any question about how much he’d made you come and how much wetter he was making you as he moved his fingers in some sort of magical dance inside you.

When you felt the third finger enter you cried out in a pleasure you hadn’t ever known before.

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s really good. See how well you're taking that?” Henry growled in your ear. “You’ll feel that and a whole lot more in just a few more moments. You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes, please. Yes. I’m ready, Henry.”

“What is it you are ready for? Will you tell me?”

“I’m ready for you to fuck me,” you told him.

“Yeah you are.”

Chapter 4

Tags: Please let me know if you want on or off or moved.

@littlegreenplasticsoldier- you opened this floodgate. Sorry.

Anything: @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @aireraume @kebabgirl67 @marantha @sweetdreamsofgelato @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @dedicated-to-mr-cavill @alexakeyloveloki @feelmyroarrrr @raccoon-eyed-rebel @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @kingliam2019 @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka

Hall Pass: (askers and likers, though if you liked the teaser post and you aren’t here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you)  @crymeariversworld @tess-lecter-blog @codykosuckmytoe @casadutti @fefa-la-printcessa @kaylamontaniz @kemillyfreitas​ @urmom3sposts​ @alicasalime​ @florxdexcerezo​ @lothbrokcore​ @straightforwardly @fuzzyugly-blog @livesinfantasyland @thereisa8ella @coldmooninthedark @12dilucswife @ms-angiealsina @7eamfan7asy @band-of-brothers-memes @ms-betsy-fangirl @cavillsslut @ryuuhana91 @henryownsme @hawklin @yoongskook

[swampstew]

KillerCook Chapter 11

Welcome to Raven’s Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight’s story. Rated Mature for language. Minors DNI

*Phone app notification goes ping*

TikTok – KillerCook has uploaded a new video. Check it out!

Title: HACKED Description: This ain’t your regularly scheduled programming punks!5 minute video. The thumbnail is a shadowed figure with a menacing looking ‘X’ mark over the body.

*Press Play?*

The video began with what appeared to be a hostage situation.

KillerCook was tied to a chair with rope and chains, a blindfold over his helmet and duct tape adhered to most of his face holes.

“Uhh, this isn’t what it looks like,” Killer was able to voice out from behind the bondage.

“No, it’s exactly what it looks like,” barked Kid as he stepped into the frame. “This effin idiot was gonna make content on HIS birthday. Not in my house. Today is technically Killer’s birthday but we’re kidnapping – shut the hell up – him so he can actually let his hair down for once in his life.”

Heat stepped into the frame on Killer’s opposite side, “Originally, we were gonna take over the channel and cook for him. BUT, Kid had a light-bulb moment and we developed a scheme to treat the birthday man. You all will be seeing this next week, but rest assured, we’ve got it covered. Wish Killer a happy birthday in the comments and he’ll read them all when we come back!”

Wire came from behind the camera shaking a can of whipped cream, stepping menacingly towards Killer. Aiming the nozzle into one of the helmet holes, he pressed down on the can until Killer began thrashing, white whipped cream oozed from behind the taped holes. “THIS IS FOR THROWING FOOD AT ME ALL YEAR!”

The video transitioned to a blue and white screen with a traditional birthday melody laid over it.

A slideshow of videos and still-shot frames from Killer’s birthday kidnapping started playing.

Killer’s hostage-wear stayed on as the crew drove to the marina, where a punk-looking yacht was moored. The bow of the ship was adorned with a skeletal body, and there were blue and red flames painted to the sides of the hull. Black cursive spelled out the beauty’s name – Victoria Punk.

“The bag over the helmet is really pointless, I know where we are,” Killer’s muffled complaint went ignored as he was marched up the boarding plank.

About 30 pictures went by with various crew members and friends posing with hostage Killer; one photo had him wearing a beer helmet over the bag over his helmet, the straws tucked underneath all the materials to give Killer some libation.

Finally liberated, Killer – dressed down into swim trunks and his helmet – took a running leap off the yacht to cannonball into the sea. As he resurfaced, the rest of the crew cannonballed after him, created a wave of water to shower down on him and the camera, which promptly died.

_______________________

Kid’s pissed-off scowl came into focus as he adjusted the new camera perspective, “{Redacted} idiots killed my phone instead of using the {redacted} GoPro.”

The next clip showed Killer relaxing with a beer bottle in hand, laying against a giant pizza slice pool float as people drifted by him, playing in the water. All was calm until Quincy, Bubblegum, and Heat swam underneath the float and flipped it over. When Killer broke the surface, the laughter tripled as his hair was plastered all over his helmet and chest, but his beer-bottle was still in one of the face holes.

“There’s sea water in my beer,” he said flatly.

A new clip had a heavy metal anthem roaring in the background as the yacht was sailing at high speed on the open ocean. Killer was standing on the bow, holding a Scottish flag, and thrashing his hair to the music.

More photos of the crew and Killer celebrating his birthday with drinking games, strength competitions, and gorging on fresh seafood flooded the TikTok video. Amongst the main crew and personal friends, there were also members of the Straw Hat crew, and even some ‘frenemy’ rivals that had been spoken of but not ever invited on to the KillerCook channel before. By the time the lighting in the photos grew darker, Killer’s helmet had been exchanged for a face mask and his cerulean eyes were noticeably glossy.

“Hap-hic-happy birthday, Kill, -hic- the best-{redacted}-friend a punk could-hic ask for,” slurred Kid as he gripped Killer’s shoulder. Both men swayed as a cake was brought out to the main deck. Sunset had long passed, the yacht was brightly lit up with swarms of bulbs on strings that hung tastefully along the walls and railings.

Everyone began to sing the birthday song and Killer might have shed a tear, shoving a palm roughly to his face.

“{Redacted}-A, I don’t even know what to say,” Killer drawled out. “All I was going to do was make a small cake and smoke my pipe. You {redacted} are so good to me. Well, not all of you, but I like most of yah. Some I don’t know how you got invited, seriously. But I’m glad you’re here celebrating anyways. I don’t have a wish to make, truly. I’ve got everything, everyone. So thanks. Alright I’m not going to get mushy on all you freeloaders!” Killer ripped off his face mask.

With deep-purple stained lips, Killer’s gorgeous smile shined brightly as he took a gulp of air and blew out the sparkler-flame candles. The party participants roared in celebration at the same time an airhorn started blowing off-screen.

The camera quickly panned to the culprit of the sound. A modest sized cruise ship with a flag waving proudly on the masts pulled up portside. On the side of the hull it’s name was proudly presented: The Baratie. The camera’s change in perspective did not allow for viewers to see who let out the strangled, high-pitched scream of excitement.

Sanji was clutching Killer’s soldiers and babbling incoherently before jumping into the water, swimming towards the restaurant ship.

Hands covering his face, Killer sobbed out, “I’m so fucking happy!! LET’S EAT!!!!”

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

[sevens-evan]

okay, so, 30 (tourist/knowledgeable local au) go go go

this turned into tourist/park ranger au and is heavily/entirely based on a hike i went on in arches national park years and years ago. slot canyons my beloved. please reblog if ya like it!

“Alright?”

“Great,” Ava says, trying not to look down into the canyon between her feet and the rest of the hiking trail. It’s maybe two feet wide and a long way down. Beatrice holds her hand out over the gap, and Ava takes it. She doesn’t even try not to enjoy the warmth of Beatrice’s hand or the callouses on her palm. Thirsting after her park ranger guide on a group hike definitely isn’t the highest point of Ava’s life, but it’s not the lowest, either, and she’s refusing to feel shame about it. It’s not her fault that Beatrice somehow makes a park ranger uniform look good. It should be impossible, between the pleated trousers and the baggy grey shirt and the stupid, stupid, stupid hat, but Ranger Beatrice is doing it. Ava has been at the front of the pack through the whole hike, throwing in an occasional glance at the shape of Beatrice’s arms beneath the short sleeves of her shirt amongst the views of slot canyons and rocky vistas.

“Ma’am?”

Ava blinks. She’s still holding onto Beatrice’s hand, and has yet to take the step over the canyon before her.

“Ava,” Ava says. “Ma’am was my mother.” She makes a face. What did she just say?

“Ava,” Beatrice says. Oh, Ava likes that. She really likes that, the way Beatrice’s accent turns over the second a in her name. “Just one step. The more you look down the worse it seems.”

“For sure.” Ava decides to let Beatrice think she’s afraid of heights. At least for now. She’s getting, like, major gay vibes, so maybe she can correct that misunderstanding at a later date.

Ava takes the step.

“One small step for Ava, right?” Ava says, looking up from her hiking boots to grin at Beatrice. Beatrice smiles back at her, which is just—devastating. Ava will never be the same.

“One giant leap for Ava-kind,” Beatrice agrees. She squeezes Ava’s hand before she lets it go, and Ava has to clench her jaw shut to keep from doing something embarrassing like asking her to do it again. Or moaning.

They follow the trail as a group as it narrows between two rock walls, then widens again, letting them out into a sort of split in the side of the solid rock hill, rock faces soaring a dozen feet high on either side of them. It affords them an incredible view of the desert out beneath them, sand and rocks and hills. Beatrice stops near the far end of the open space, turning and waiting as the hiking tour group files in behind her.

“Everyone doing alright?” Beatrice says. Ava watches as she does a quick headcount, following along with the numbers Beatrice mouths. If that involves staring at her lips, well, Beatrice probably can’t tell. Beatrice nods a moment later, apparently satisfied with the number of hikers gathered before her.

“This is my favorite spot in the entire park,” Beatrice says. “If you’ll all entertain it a moment, I’d like to tell you why.”

“Go for it,” Ava says. She’s the only person in the group to speak aloud. Beatrice glances at her, and Ava refuses to be embarrassed, offering an encouraging grin.

“Well, if Ava approves,” Beatrice says with a smile. She reaches up and takes off her hat. Several strands of brown hair have escaped their neat bun, and she brushes them back with one hand while the other holds her hat against her side. “My first summer in the park, I was cleaning cabins. I graduated college and lost contact with my entire family not long afterwards. It was a very difficult and confusing time in my life. I thought that I had made a mistake in coming to the US. I thought that I had made a mistake by coming here. I thought that I was in the wrong, that it was my fault somehow that my parents weren’t accepting of me. That it was my fault I was different.”

Gay, gay, super gay, totally gay. Ava agrees with the voice in her head and then tells it to shut up. There’s a rehearsed quality to Beatrice’s voice—Ava suspects she gives this speech on every one of these hikes—but there’s something genuine in it, too, and Ava wants to listen.

“One day towards the end of July—the hottest day I’d ever experienced up til then, being from England,” Beatrice says, “a friend I’d made, a ranger, took me up here. She sat me down and told me to talk to the desert, and ask it if I’d made a mistake. And then she went back up the canyon to give me some privacy. I sat here for ten minutes before I finally did it. The desert did not answer.” A ripple of quiet laughter goes around the group. Ava doesn’t join in. She’s transfixed by the look on Beatrice’s face, a little half-smile that Ava wants to stare at forever. “But on the hike back out I found a tarantula on my backpack.”

“And that made you want to stay?” Ava says. Beatrice glances at her.

“The tarantulas are a very important part of the ecosystem, Ava,” Beatrice says. Ava shuts her mouth and busies herself with the lid of her water bottle. “But yes, it did. It felt like…the desert was calling me stupid for even asking. What does a bunch of sand and rock care if I’m here or not? Have a spider for your troubles, you idiot.” More laughter, and Beatrice laughs quietly at herself this time. “But the people do care. My friend cared to take me here and show me all that sand and rock. And I care to show it to all of you. It’s my job, yes, but it’s only my job because it matters to me. And I hope that it matters to all of you.” She takes a deep breath and puts her hat back on.

“So,” she says. “On the way down the hill, if you want to, I hope that you’ll all ask the desert a question. Doesn’t have to be out loud, don’t worry. The sand won’t hear you either way. And I can’t promise you a tarantula, although some of you may be grateful for that”—no fucking kidding—“but I can promise that the desert won’t answer. And I can promise that that will be more comforting than it sounds.” Beatrice pauses for a moment. Ava might be in love with her. “Are we all ready to start?” There’s a general murmur of assent, and Beatrice turns away from the group, leading them towards the trail out of the split in the rock and down the hill. Ava hurries to catch up to her.

“So,” she says as she draws up shoulder-to-shoulder to Beatrice. Beatrice looks over at her. “Quite the story.”

“I suppose.”

“All true?”

“Of course.” Beatrice shakes her head slightly, amused and scandalized by the idea of lying.

“Got any more stories you’d like to share?” Ava says. “Maybe over a beer or something?” Beatrice is silent for long enough that Ava’s rapid, anticipatory heartbeat turns worried and even faster. “That can be my question for the desert,” Ava says. “If you want. Don’t want. Whatever.”

“Asking the desert to have a drink with you,” Beatrice says. “How unconventional.” Ava shrugs.

“I’m not really the conventional type.”

“No?” Ava shakes her head. Beatrice looks down the trail. “I’m done for the day after this tour,” she says. “There’s not many bars worth visiting around here, but if you’d like to come by my cabin, I make an acceptable gin and tonic.”

“High praise,” Ava says. “There’s literally two things in that drink.”

“Three,” Beatrice says. “There’s lime.” She pauses. “Four. And ice.”

“Sold on the ice,” Ava says. “How the fuck do you do this hike in July?” Beatrice laughs, a sharp, abrupt noise, like it’s been startled out of her. Ava’s hands clench into fists at her sides, trying to catch it in her fingertips.

“You get used to it,” Beatrice says. “Now watch where you’re going. You’ve been missing all the views staring at me.” Ava flushes pink at being caught, but she obeys, turning her head and watching the desert stretch out before her.

[cerberusthenking3]

A Meal Fit for a King

Warning:This story contains soft,safe vore,accidental fearplay,mawplay,child prey,G/T,aftercare

I also(obviously)don't own Hazbin Hotel or any characters associated with it.Also, the borrowers in this AU aren't sinners but instead are hellborn who are commonly captured as snacks by sinners and bigger hellborn

Also, Lucifer has a crop because of shape-shifting abilities

I hope leviathanverse enjoys

May POV.

I sneakily slip by the guards at the door to the kitchen and between through the small slit under the door.I pop my head out of under the door and look around,taking a deep breath and giving a relieved sigh,no one's here.Its strange for the kitchen to be empty but I'm not one to miss an opportunity when it's offered to me so I slip in and run over towards one of the cupboards.My hand flicks into my belt and I pull my small hook and wire off the can top fashioned into a loop to hold my hook.My hand slides up the wire and I begin spinning it and take a second to calculate the angle and then I flick it up and silently celebrate as it perfectly wraps around the drawer handle and hooks to itself.My feet brace against the solid door and I quickly pull myself up the wooden pane and arrive at the handle before cautiously unfurling the wire off its anchor and pull myself up onto the counter.I dash across the pretty marble and arrive at a large platter of food and dig through it,choosing a few nice fruits like chunks of apple and pieces of grapes before smelling something more delicious than anything I've ever smelled before.I turn to were the smell is coming from and see a giant brown object covered in some sort of sweet smelling white liquid and cherries.I take a step towards is before stopping,this is definitely a trap so I need to leave,right now.I turn and begin back down the counter when another smell hits my nose.Okay,maybe one piece and then I'm gone,before anyone notices.

May POV.

I quickly scarf down a chunk of the delicious.....thing?Doesn't matter what it is,I tasted it, and now I have to leave.I turn to run off when a smell hits my nose,wait how did he get here?I should have smelled him long before"Why hello there,little borrower"I freeze as I slowly turn and see the king of hell,Lucifer,pulling himself out of a cabinet and he detransforms from a mouse into his real form,and I notice him licking the same sweet white liquid off his hand and his smell fully assaults my nose.He used the delicious snack as cover for his scent and covered his mouse dorm in it for extra measure.My heart begins banging against my chest as he steps towards me and says"You're not gonna leave withou-"I cut him off and sprint off as quickly as I can,leaping off the counter and throwing the hook out,watching it hook to the fridge handle before sliding down the wire and wrenching the hook away as I hear Lucifer finally chasing after me as I slide under the door and through the guards legs as one of them look down at me when the door is thrown open and lucifer runs out yelling"WAIT,I DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YOU,COME BACK"I run into a small carved mousehole,which I use as a tunnel system to get around the mansion and collapse against the wall taking deep,gasping breaths before looking out the mousehole and seeing Lucifer on his knees looking in.He quickly says"I w got off on the wrong foot,I'm Lucifer,you are?"I step back and mutter."Not stupid enough to fall for this,bye"and sprint down the tunnel and back to my home.When I get back, I sigh and place my haul on the little table fashioned from a couple bottle caps and some toothpicks.Raising my hand up to my face I tightly squeeze the bridge of my nose and slam the bottom of my palm into my forehead,two years,I've gone two years here without being seen and I ruin it because of some random sweet food.I'm an idiot but I'm not stupid enough to stay here,this place was basically luxury but after tonight I'll have to find another place to stay.

May POV

My eyes snap open as I feel someone watching me, and I shoot up before feeling something, taking up most of the room.I look up, and my heart stops as I see a giant white snake wearing a tophat with a striped pink and red stomach is filling up most of my room.I scramble back and press my back against the wall as the snake.....talks?He anxiously says"Wait don't freak out,please,this probably isn't the best form for this,I now realize,but it's the first form I though of"My jaw drops and I pull the blanket closer to my mouth and softly say"P-please,don't e-eat m-m-me Me.L-Lucifer,i-im sorry for s-stealing from you,I'm g-gonna leave t-t-tommorow,I s-swear"He looks down at me and seems to start panicking before saying"Wait,I'm not mad at you,I've been trying to catc-meet you for a couple of months,that cake was actually made for you,which is why the kitchen was empty"I shiver as his head gets closer and use my free hand to push him away before saying"So,y-your not gonna e-e-eat me?"He avoids eye contact with me before saying certainly,"I swear I won't hurt or kill you in any way,"He let's me stand up as I act like I'm going towards my table before saying softly"Thats not what I asked,sir"He freezes which is enough of a hint to what he was planning for me to act.I leap over his coils as I sprint out of the room and dash down the hall but don't get very far as his tail wraps around my stomach and I just collapse as I'm pulled back into my room.I just sit there as I feel tears well up in my eyes and I hear him nervously ask"He-hey a-are you o-o-okay,oh wait,shit,you're crying,um,I swear I'm not gonna hurt you"He lifts me off the ground and I squeeze my eyes shut before I feel him begin moving.I slowly open my eyes and see that he's holding me while slithering through the tight corridor.I'm gonna die when he exits the wall,I give a dry sob before my body as close together as I can and try to imagine myself in my happy place.

May POV.

The ride gets bumpy after a couple of minutes, and then the tail dissapears off me.Instantly I try to run off before I feel a warm hand wrap around me and pull me up.My eyes flick around as I see that I'm being held at least three feet in the air,if I fall from here I'll break every bone in my body.I look around and see that I'm in a room I've never been in before with large shelves covered in..........rubber ducks?He laughs anxiously and says"sorry,I didn't have time to clean up but,Now presenting the magic-tasticle backflipping rubber duck!"He holds up a rubber duck, which promptly leaps up from his hand a flips over midair, and I just stare at him as he turns the duck before adding,"That also breaths fire!"And sure enough, the duck releases a burst of flame, and he sets it down before saying,"I know,it's kinda stupid. "I shake my head and say,"N-not really,I think it's pretty i-impressive."He smiles, and I grimace at the sharp teeth showing in his mouth. If I'm not careful, he's gonna be picking me out of them by tonight.He gently places me on the workshop table, and I notice a piece or what he called"cake."Sitting there when he pulls it over and leaves it in front of me.I sit there silently for a moment before he says."Dont worry,it's for you,"I quietly mutter. "T-thank you."It takes me thirty minutes to finish the piece of cake, but afterward, I notice that Lucifer is working on something.Slightly bored, I try to walk over to one of the ducks when he reaches out and picks me up.I whimper a little as he pulls me up and holds up a small toy,some kind of stuffed duck toy which feels very soft and huggable.I gently cuddle it to my chest and say"Thanks"He smiles and says"No problem......um,sorry I don't think you ever told me you're name?"I look him over looking for any reason not to tell him, but I guess that there's no point in not telling him,maybe it'll make him keep me as a pet over killing me"May,I'm May"He raises a finger to me and I put my hand out to shake it.

May POV.

I lay on Lucifers palm as he works on his newest invention before I hear his stomach growl,I notice his hand curling around me a bit and I give a smirk as I hear him say"Hey May-May......"I fake huff and say,"No, Luci,you can't. "He gives a groan and huffs at me before saying,"Pleeeeeeeeeeeease,May-May,I'll have another chocolate cake made for you. "I cross my arms and say,"A batch of brownies and you don't ask tomorrow. "He nods happily, and I sigh before grabbing Deuce,the stuffed duck that Luci gave me when we first met and walk up to him.He holds his hand out, and I step onto his palm of his hand where he pull me up to his mouth and opens his sharp teeth before laying his tongue over the bottom layer and I crawl into his mouth before he begins licking all over my body and gently gnawing on my arm.He gently suckles on me before pinning me to the roof of his mouth and swallowing excess saliva.He opens his mouth again before placing a small custom made pillow and blanket into his mouth with me and swallowing.It takes a minute or two to arrive in his crop where I cuddle to the wall as I hear him talking about his"Magic-tastical backflipping rubber duck"Before hearing his phone ring and he yells"DAUGHTER,DAUGHTER CALLING!"Oh, Satan,this'll go well.

[sirenologyyy]

SWEET TO ME !

ao'nung x fem!sully reader

✷ premise : as tensions rise and your family is forced out of the only home you've ever known, fish boy meets forest girl and the rest is history (tragedy)

✷ warnings : kidnapping, swearing, injury, blood, violence, and death

✷ author's note : this ones gunna be a rollercoaster of emotions so... sorry about that

part 3 of the SOLD OUT OF LOVE series

He's brought you to a cave, the ocean seemingly only a gateway to a hidden world, for there lay an island surrounded by water, home to a plethora of lush fauna, full of bright flowers of different colours, leaves spread open like fans double the size of a Na'vi, the sand like crushed up gemstones glittering and shimmering underneath the sunlight, a throng of giant trees towering over you, almost brushing the ceiling, the ceiling in which had a hole big enough to allow sunlight in, giving justice to the island's glory.

You couldn't contain your awe and so you simply stood there, admiring the whole cave as your heart practically swelled at its beauty. "Oh my fucking Eywa" was all you could say, and everything you wanted to say.

"No one knows this place but me" says Ao'nung, stepping closer to you. "Here you will be able to feel simple again"

At that you turn around, looking at him in disbelief. "Ao'nung-"

"No" He stops you. "I won't hear any of it, this place is yours now... as much as mine"

So you recalculate your approach. "Thank you" You say instead.

He bows his head. "You're welcome"

You walk towards the island, well, more like ran, you were eager to see every bit of it, Ao'nung simply stood and watched as you leaped around, pointing things out he himself hasn't seen before, your laughter the only thing he could hear.

"So why'd you bring me here? To your secret spot?" You insist after a while, taking a seat on the rock as your eyes followed him, taking a seat beside you.

"It is my way of making my peace"

"You already said sorry"

You see him shake his head. "It is not enough, even after I have apologised I found that not even that could chasten the guilt burning inside me"

It made you think.

"It's me... doing you a solid " He says, the unfamiliarity of the phrase to him making it known, despite all that it made you bite down on a grin. "I'm still not entirely convinced I was the first person you've brought here"

"You don't believe me?"

You shake your head. "Nah"

He scoffed.

"So you're telling me you didn't even bring Rotxo here?"

"No"

"Not even your other friends?"

He sneers at you. "Especially not them"

"Not even a few girls?" You grinned suggestively.

He shoves you away, both of you laughing. "Cut it out, of course not"

You stood in front of him now, showing him your hands. "Maybe I'm getting this all wrong, what about boys?"

He half-shrugged, staring up at you. "A few close calls but... no, they did not want to pursue the son of the Olo'eyktan"

You give him a small smile, a distant one. "Back home, neither did they, no one there took me seriously, it's the problem with keeping your options open, they get scared, run for the hills, leaving you with nothing"

His eyes snapped up. "Wait-"

"You're kidding me, you didn't take a guess?" You laughed. "Like calls to like"

His aquamarine eyes still on you, he lets out an amused scoff. "Huh"

This was where you hum, nodding in understanding. "So, i'm the only girl you've ever brought here?"

"The first and the last" He replied darkly.

"Am I just gunna turn into one of your Na'vi sacrifices?"

"Keep talking and you might find out"

You let out a lone cackle, pulling your head back and allowing your laughter to let loose, seemingly drunk off of nothing but the pure idea of having a good time with the same boy you wanted to kill just a few days ago, and he sees all of this, from your cheeky grin, to your flushed cheeks, to your narrowed amber eyes that glistened as your body shook with laughter.

"I feel like you'll tell me that you don't actually like leading people and that you want to become a Tsahík instead" You say, turning your back on him and walking towards a white flower that grew on stringy vines, you rub the petal, feeling the smooth, delicate surface in between the pads of your fingers before propping yourself up.

"I do"

"Wow, that was spot on" You say, mostly to yourself.

"But how do you know that Forest Girl?" He wonders, looking you straight in the eyes, the huskiness of his accent mixing with the silvery nature of his voice only inclining you to tell him why.

"Your face, your bruises healed quickly than your friends, and I expect they paid a visit to your mother after the fight" You explained, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "Your hands were dyed purple when you saw me by the rocks, and I recognised the smell, you used tam'bon on your face and your knuckles mixed with other poultices from the many mixtures your mother has in your Marui, you'd have to be paying really close attention to know which to use on your face"

"My mother is the Tsahík, I see her healing people everyday"

"No" you stop him. "Only someone this passionate about healing would be taking note of everything the Tsahík does, it isn't a coincidence, you were listening on purpose"

His eyes widened like saucers. "Wow"

"You used yalna bark too, I can tell"

He nods, standing to his feet. "Impressive"

"One of my many, many talents" You bragged, giving him a sly smirk. "You should try guessing me next"

"Fine uhhh" He sang, rubbing his knuckles together. "You don't like being told what to do"

"Yes, but very obvious, dig a little deeper"

"Fine" He says again. "You're the oldest daughter?"

"No, you forgot about Kiri, Lo'ak goes after her, I go after Lo'ak"

"Really?" He asks. "I always thought you were older than her"

"How?" You questioned him genuinely, until a light bulb buzzed to life above your head. "You know what? this could be a thing"

"What thing?"

You sit down in front of him. "There's this game we play back in the Omaticayan Village, it's called 20 questions, instead of us trying to guess we'd have to ask, and the other person has to answer no matter what"

"No matter what?" He asks.

"No. matter. what" You reiterate gravely.

"You go first then" He says nodding at you.

"How old are you?" You began, already grinning like a maniac.

"15" Ao'nung answers. "16 in 2 months, how old are you?"

"14, turning 15 in..." you stopped to count. "6- no, 7 months"

He nods. "Next question"

"How tall are you?"

"8 foot 5"

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Really? Some people say they're 8 feet tall but in reality they're only 7 foot 9"

"How can I be 7 foot 9?" He exclaimed, almost scandalised.

"I dunno, you ask yourself that" You frowned.

"Just ask the next question" He says boredly.

You bite your inner lip in thought, exhaling when you finally think of the next question. "Why do you hang around them?" You found yourself asking instantly. "Those boys, you don't even seem to like them all that well"

That seemed to have ceased the lightheartedness of the situation, silence settling in awkwardly, quickly, like a virus finding a host.

"I dont know why" He tells you quietly. "It's a comfortable choice, they never seem to care about anything except the present, they don't care that I am to be the next Olo'eyktan, that I am to lead our people for the many years to come, if I stick with them maybe I can forget what is to be my fate"

You stay quiet, so does he. It's almost a dizzying experience, to have Ao'nung pour himself out to you like that when 5 days ago all you wanted in life was to rip his head clean off his shoulders, half of you were expecting for him to stand up, laugh in your face for believing such a thing but as time progressed you found that flame dying rapidly.

But he exhaled, making you glance at him. "What about you Forest Girl?"

You snort, grinning. "What about me??"

"Do you have any secrets worth my time?"

"I got no secrets, I'm an open book"

"Surely there must be something you aren't telling me" He pressed. "What's your favorite food?"

"Pizza- well used to"

"What's that?"

"It's sort of like this triangular shaped snack with meat, and cheese, and sauce on it"

"Oh, well alright" He says, all while having no clue what that is. "What's your favorite food now then?"

"I'm torn between melon tree fruit and yovo fruit"

He grinned. "That, I can get behind by"

"Oh!" You exclaimed, snapping your fingers. "What's your favorite colour?"

"Yellow " He answered.

"Really?" You scoffed. "I thought you'd say blue or something"

He gives you a look. "Blue? Why Blue?"

You gesture to him, making him frown. "Why wouldn't you say blue?"

He gives you an insincere laugh. "Very funny Forest Girl" He drawled. "What about you then? What's your favorite colour?"

"Y/F/C" you state, pushing your hair back away from your face.

He half-shrugged, staring at his finger nails. "Yeah, I guessed as much"

You draw a line on your teeth with your tongue. "If you could leave right now, where would you go?"

"Anywhere but here" He replied, standing up as well. "As long as I can get far away from this place as possible"

You watch him as he starts picking up branches on the sand, realizing he just needed to do something with his hands. "This is my home yes, I've never known any place else but I just want to leave, my knowledge only goes as far as riding a skimwing, but I know the ocean will end eventually"

"Then ride an íkran"

"Well I don't know how to, do I?"

"I'll teach you" You offer, leaning against a tree. "If you taught me how to ride an ilu, surely I can teach you how to ride an íkran"

He gives you an incredulous look, tossing the branches into the water. "So you can throw me off 50 feet in the air? no thank you"

"No, I'm serious, do you really want to learn?"

He thinks, almost entertaining the idea. "I would not oppose once the opportunity presents itself"

"The opportunity is practically waving at you, Ao'nung"

"Maybe another day" He says instead, so you decide it was an answer enough.

Whatever stars have aligned, whatever curse was cast on you, the both of you spent about an hour talking about the most aimless things that made even you wonder what kind of sick stunt the universe was trying to pull.

"Stop it! You are throwing me off!" Ao'nung exclaimed trying to stop you from doubling over and laughing.

You wipe the tears collecting at the edge of your eyes, trying to catch your breath. "Just- just say it again-!"

Ao'nung clicks his tongue against his mouth. "I will not, all you'll do is laugh at me!" He protests.

You sit on the rock again, pulling, well, practically forcing him to sit down before he could run away again. "I promise I won't laugh just- just say it again"

He sits back down unceremoniously, no thanks to you. "What is a castrated smurf anyway? Why do I need to tell Neteyam he looks like a castrated smurf? "

"Because you can" You insist, trying to resist your laughter again. "It's a glowing compliment amongst Sky People, trust me"

"Fine" He says, rolling his eyes at you. "I trust you"

You giggled through your nose, a smile breaking on your face as you look at him.

amber meeting aquamarine.

Your eyes trail to the giant purple bruises that littered his face, then to his neck where you had cut him with your dagger, all the millions of white freckles on his face like Eywa had kissed stars onto the afternoon sky.

You blink, so does he, and suddenly you tear away from eachother, you turn away from him, Ao'nung starts rubbing at his nape as you feel silence encapsulate you once more.

"Where did your necklace go?" He asks, almost on cue a wave of coldness washes over your collarbone.

"It snapped off during the fight, I went back for it, tried finding the pieces but with all the sand flying around during it I barely found half" You replied.

Oh great. another thing Ao'nung felt responsible for. "I see" He replies.

So you stand up, looking at everything but him, the trees, the white petals fading into purple then yellow at the very middle, its orange stigmas standing tall, you walk up to it, leaning into it to take a whiff, light, musky, sweet, you found yourself sniffing it again, you hold it by its stem but a bug reveals itself and crawls onto your hand, you flinch and flick your hand away. Ao'nung laughs at you. "It is just a little insect, you cannot be that afraid of it"

"I can feel it's legs all over me, it's gross and weird" you explain before you shudder involuntarily.

He looks at the vines again and plucks a flower before handing it to you. You stare at it warily and he sighs when you did not take it instantly. "I promise there are no bugs on there"

"You might be lying"

"Why would I lie?"

"I don't know, but you could" You state, watching as he rolls his eyes. After a moment of contemplating you decide to take it before you stand up on your toes and you tuck the flower between his ear, landing back to your feet to see an unimpressed Ao'nung staring back at you.

"Oh Jesus do I wish I had a camera" You sighed longingly.

You see him cross his arms over his chest, a ball forming at his temple as he tightened his jaw. "I look like a joke"

"You look pretty"

"I'm not pretty" He said. "I'm hot"

You let out a laugh. "Whatever helps you sleep at night"

"take it off" He whined.

"Nuh-uh, I don't want to"

"You're a child" He declares sanctimoniously.

"Uh-huh" You nod absentmindedly.

"Come on, take this stupid flower out, I don't want it"

"Take it off yourself" You say.

He lets out a disparaging groan and pulls it out of his ear, you were about to prove your point but that was before he places the flower behind your ear instead. Your eyes widen a centimeter and your cheeks flush to a lilac as your hand instinctively reaches up to it, your fingertips barely brushing the tips of the petals.

"There" Ao'nung says, pulling you out of your trance. "Now you look like the joke"

You narrow your eyes at him and walk away towards the water, the bioluminescent creatures making your stomach drop.

"Fuck" you say, making Ao'nung turn around. "Ao'nung how long have we been down here?"

"I know as much as you do Forest Girl" He retaliates.

"We gotta go back"

The sound of the conch shell make your heads snap upwards, towards the hole of cave where the moon was only a ways off from casting it's silvery glow onto the island.

You turn to Ao'nung. "Oh you're so fucked" You laughed.

"Says you" He laughed back, pointing a finger at your face before you slap it away, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day before running back to the way you came with you tailing him. Once the two of you reach the water he dives in, barely even making a splash and resurfacing mere seconds later.

"Come on!"

"But my-"

"It'll stay on" He cuts you off mid-sentence, seeming to know what your next words were. So you jump in, paddling alongside him as you tried swimming out of there before he did, eventually you made it out of the structure, swimming upwards like your life depended on it, glancing at Ao'nung every now and then only for you to pick up your pace as he picked up his. You resurface at the same time, he beats you at calling his ilu first while you took a while catching your breath, he saddles his ilu the moment yours arrived, laughing at you as you struggled to get on.

You tell Hinewai to put the pedal to the metal and you finally managed to catch up to him, his eyes widening as he sees you pop up on his peripheral.

"Hurry up!" He tells you.

You let out a disparaging groan. "What do you think I've been doing smart ass??"

He only laughs, pulling his head back before he dives under the water, shooting out moments later, his ilu spinning on the air before landing back onto the water.

Show off.

The pair of you decided to round the island, turning to Ao'nung when you see all the village people crowding the docks, muttering your name, only for him to avoid your eyes.

You hop off your ilu as does he, trudging up the sand as you feel the eyes of every Metkayin trained on you. Parting the crowd was your mother, your father, Neteyam, and Lo'ak, followed by your sisters close behind.

"She's here!" Dad calls out to the people, you couldn't help but frown as he began checking your arms and your face. "She's alright! She's fine"

"My son" Tonowari starts.

"Father, I see you" Ao'nung addressed, placing his hand over his forehead and bringing it to his chest. You cringe subtly and do the same. "I see you, Olo'eyktan"

He geeets the both of you with the same gesture.

"Is it true what they say?" He began as you felt Ao'nung tense up beside you. "That you have brought Lo'ak beyond the reef? That you have risked his life?"

You snap your head towards Ao'nung, your face falling only to see him glancing up at his father with a pensive look.

"Yes" He replies without hesitation.

Ronal jumps down the platform only to pull his ear, making him wince. "What were you thinking?! Leading Toruk Makto's son to his death??" She hissed, Ao'nung avoiding her face. "This behavior is beneath you"

Jake takes your shoulder and makes you face him. "Where the hell have you been? I thought I taught you better than to not keep track of the time"

"I know but i-"

"No, no excuses" He snapped, hopping over the platform, you trying to follow him.

"Dad just please-" You insist.

He turns to you. "You'll get to talk when we get back to our pod, now drag your ass back home"

"Toruk Makto please-" says Ao'nung, almost stepping in between you and your father, he meets your father's gaze and he immediately regrets his decision, his eyes flicking towards you only to see pure hatred burning back into his retinas. "I am at fault here" He began again cautiously.

You try and ignore the whispers that reverberated around you, the looks of your brothers practically burning into your scalp. "I brought her with me to apologise for our altercation a couple of days ago, I did not mean to bring her home this late, we were caught up in eachother, we lost track of time, believe me, my intentions with your daughter are pure-"

Jake blinks, you could practically feel his anger radiate off of him. "-i'm sorry what?"

"-Dad, this is not what it looks like" You jump in front of Ao'nung, your eyes wide as the whispers around you only intensified.

Ao'nung nudges you away. "-Please, Toruk Makto do not blame your daughter, she has done nothing wrong"

Ronal walks up to Ao'nung grabbing his chin and tilting it upwards, giving everyone a perfect view of his scar. "She might as well explain what is this then"

Neytiri comes forward, feeling her behind you. "My daughter will not answer to you"

"We've discussed this alright? We've buried the hatchet, it's done and dealt with" Jake explained hurriedly, eyes switching from you, to the Tsahík, to you, to Ao'nung.

"While I commend you for trying to make peace on your own terms I cannot forget the fact that you have put Lo'ak in grave peril and returned Y/N home past eclipse"

"No," says Lo'ak. "Going past the reef was not Ao'nung's fault, it was my idea, he tried to talk me out of it, really "

"Lo'ak-" Neytiri started.

"I'm sorry" was all your twin could say before he too hopped up on the platform.

You begin your walk of shame, plodding through the woven pathways as Lo'ak appeared by your side, donning the same downcast expression as you did, your eyes meet, sending eachother whatever was the most microscopic amounts of optimism left in you before your father caught up to you.

"Dad, you told us to make friends with these kids that's all I was trying to-"

"-I don't wanna hear it"

"-Dad" You start, trying to back Lo'ak up, all while having no desire to lengthen this argument any further, but he dosen't even look at you.

"You have brought shame to this family" He tells Lo'ak, who simply stood beside you with an impassive expression.

"Can I go now?" He wonders impatiently.

"Anymore trouble I jerk a knot in your tail, you read me?"

"Yes sir, Lima Charlie" He replies before walking off, you pivot your heel and follow him, trying to put as much distance away from you and your parents as possible only to have Jake pull you back and face them.

"That's strike 2 for you young lady" He says, showing you two fingers to make himself clear. "Look, I dunno what went in your head when you decided to follow Ao'nung when your brother had been missing for hours-"

"-I didn't know he was missing"

He opens his mouth to say something but closes it quickly and sighs. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph" He exclaimed, raking his face with dread. "You're still a kid, I don't want you making decisions that'll make your life go up in smoke, you know that right?"

You nod, your jaw still tight.

"I gotta worry about Lo'ak, I gotta worry about Tuk, I gotta worry about Kiri, do I gotta worry about you too?" He ejaculated, throwing his hand in the air.

You shake your head. "No sir"

"Good" He tells you, his eyes darting up to the flower stuck to your ears and you couldn't help but notice it. "Then we're done here, am I understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir" You nod, your feet already itching to get away.

"Good, get out of here" He nods towards the docks and you didn't telling twice. Pushing past the villagers, you hop down the platform, knowing full well who you were going to find next.

And you do find him, walking alone on the beach, almost sulking.

You didn't exactly try and mask the sound of your footsteps and so he sees you about 5 feet away from him.

His eyes light up. "What are you-"

You slam your hands onto his chest, sending him staggering back several steps away from you.

"Are you fucking brain dead? " You seethe, narrowing your eyes at him, pushing at him again and watching him collect himself. "Are you crazy? "

"I don't think I am, no" He exclaimed, watching you go on a rampage.

"What the fuck is wrong with you??? Trying to embarrass me in front of your whole goddamn clan?? Is that what you wanted this whole time? Try- try and get me to lower my guard down? Make me laugh? Make me reveal my secrets? so that in the end I can make you look like a fucking hero???" You yell at him, bashing your fists against his chest.

"Stop it-!" He shouts, trying to grab your fists.

You push him away. "No! No! Let me go!"

"I will when you calm down-!"

You yanked your arms away from his grasp, pointing a slender finger at his face, looking at him with unbridled rage and fury. "Is that what you wanted? To make a fool out of me??"

He swallows, hesitating. "No-"

"Do you know what you did??" You ask him, your voice cracking. "Do you know-"

"-No!" Ao'nung shouts. "No! I don't know-!"

"You made me look weak! Like I needed to rely on some man for protection!" You screeched into the sea before whirling towards him.

"I stood up for you! I defended you and this is what I get?? Not even a thank you???" He yelled.

You slapped him across the face, he turns to you, clutching his cheek.

"I never asked you to defend me did i?" You tell him.

"I still did"

"Learn to take a hint next time"

"You should be grateful" He spat.

You hummed, staring at his face. "The next time you raise your tongue against me I won't hesitate to give you a matching set" You say, prodding his bruised cheekbone, hearing him hiss in pain before pulling the flower from behind your ear and throwing it to the sand, you gave him one last look and with that you turn around, marching back to the village.

"I hate you!" He shouts after you.

"Suck my dick!" You yelled back, plodding across the sand.

Ao'nung stood there with the salty sea air sweeping his curly locks. His eyes traverse from your figure growing smaller and smaller as it neared the village to the flower abandoned on the sand. He crouches and picks it up, twirling it between his fingers as his stomach churns with guilt, anger, sadness, but most of all an indescribable longing. How could you long for someone's presence but also want to stab them in the throat?

[satureja13]

The morning of the playtest! But who will be the first to enter the Therapy Game?

Jack: "Fear not my furless friends! For I - the Supersoldier - will boldly go where no creature had gone before!"

Saiwa, deliberately ignoring him: "So who will test this amazing technology first?" Jack: "Me! Me, me, ME!" Saiwa: "Hm... no volunteers? I would go myself but I'll have to supervise the devices and the AI... What about you Ji Ho?" Ji Ho: "Me? ö.Ö' Uhm..." Saiwa: "Right, this would not be a good idea. You are too precious for this." Jack: "Me! I will do it! What? Am I not precious or what? Ach! I don't care! C'mon Sai! Me, me, ME!"

Saiwa, still deliberately ignoring him: "Hmmm who else is eligible?..." Jack: "ME!!! Me, me, ME!" Saiwa: "What about you, Vlad?" Vlad: "Sure!" Jack: "What? And you claim to be my best friend! Tch!" Vlad: "But shouldn't we choose the one we can the easiest live without? In case something goes wrong?" Jack: "And that would be me! And thanks for your concerns: but Tiny Can will ensure I remain unscathed. Because he loves -> me!"

Nothing is as annoying as Puppy Jack ^^'

This is the mirror episode to this one :3

Saiwa: "Let's go!" Jack: "AWOOOOO!"

Saiwa and Vlad refunctioned the Therapy Room. Jack: "Wow! Will you be able to watch on the big screen?" Saiwa: "I hope so."

Tiny can is already connected and compiling.

Saiwa: "And these are your VR glasses and the Controller Arm." Jack: "This is so cool! Thank you, Sai!"

Saiwa: "Please be careful. As soon as you experience something off or weird, tell us and we stop it! We don't know what awaits us there and Arturo might have gotten that board from the Council and ..." Jack: "Omg Saiwa, it's just a game! What can possibly happen? You sound like my mom - if I had one..." And then he took a selfie, because it's so cool...

Jack: "That's a small step for a wolf - a giant leap for creaturekind!" Saiwa: "Omg! Go already!"

Jack: "Can't wait! ... Seems there is only one place I can go, so I'll just start there?" Saiwa: "Makes sense. This is your customized therapy session after all."

Jack: "Hm, I can see nothing - but I hear a crowd chanting. 'Wolfsbane! Wolfsbane!' " Saiwa: "Us neither. Wait, I'll make some adjustments. And to Tiny Can: "Tiny Can, check your graphics output, please." Tiny Can let out a streak of beeping sounds.

Jack: "Oh I can see! It's blurry and distorted - ah... now it's slowly getting better - but... ah" Jack gasped for air.

Saiwa still can't see anything: "Jack! What's wrong?" Jack tried to speak between gasping for air: "I... I'm... locked up! ...out!" And the he collapsed. (Due to his difficult past and after being locked up as a toddler and later with Saiwa in the lab and again when he and Ji Ho almost died in a fire, Jack can't stand being locked up.)

Jack also collapsed in the room in Tomarang and Saiwa is immediately stopping the game. Saiwa: "Tiny Can, stop the simulation!"

Vlad is helping Jack up and get's him to breathe again. Saiwa cries: "I'm so sorry, cub." (That's not the first time Saiwa is mean to Jack and something happens to him ö.Ö') And Ji Ho is petrified. Jack is like a brother to him and one of his best friends. This all started so promising and could have been of so much help for them... Tiny Can also looks abashed and beeps sadly...

'Terrified of the open road Yeah, where it leads ya never know But rest assured he'll be on you back Yeah, the holy ghost through his tounges in black As the band dog howls and the young girl cries The blessed virgin in her proud dad's eye The albatross hangin' round your neck Is the cross you bare for your sins he bleeds

Rebels are we, though heavy our hearts shall always be Ah, no ball or chain no prison shall keep We're the rebels of the sacred heart I said, no ball or chain, no prison shall keep We're the rebels of the Sacred Heart'

Flogging Molly - Rebels of the Sacred Heart This is one of my favourite songs of all time and I had it as my wake-up-song for many years. I just googled the meaning behind the lyrics and it's quite interesting to read. This song seems to tell about my own upbringing and now I love it even more.

This chapter's music is going to be very Irish/Scottish. Have I ever told you how much I love Ireland? I've never been there but whenever I see pics of Ireland, I cry. So I fear if I visit, I can't stop myself from crying all the time^^'

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28