ain't it funny how the honey wanted you all along... dilf! robb stark x chambermaid! f! reader
Chapter 3: "Please, lovie, need you to tell me. I can't stand the thought of hurting you."
masterlist ★ chapter 2 ★ chapter 4
★word count: 5.4k
★series summary: lord robb stark has long been mourning his long dead wife. everyone - and we mean everyone - around him has long since given up attempting to wed him off with another lady. and for the most part? robb's been happier that way.
until he sees you, his daughter's chambermaid.
suddenly - the lines between lord and chambermaid, and man and woman, blur over and under, in and out one another far too quickly. what will he do? what will you do?
roe speaks: i finished my dissertation so i have so much time to brainrot on this series (im literally writing ch4 rn) (this chapter made me cry) (if i dont write ch4 rn i will cry more augh)
Six weeks have passed, since you had begun to become friends with your Lord's daughter. You've learnt that just like her father, she refuses to let you call her 'Lady', insisting you use her proper name 'Alessa' when it is just the two of you alone (though, she's not got her hands all over you). And, just like her father, she too seems awfully lonely.
You're starting to think the Starks are cursed.
The Maester and you have resorted to calling it the Stark Loneliness Epidemic - laughing quietly before sighing and shaking your heads over shared cups of tea.
Speaking of - it appears you've made another friend! The Maester and you have been getting on amazingly (to Robb's increasing joy at first - and then very quick annoyance. It does help that the Maester enjoys your friendly presence. It doesn't help that some days, the Maester sees you more than Robb does. Ahh, the trials and tribulations our brave Lord faces, hmm? Mind you - he's fought wars. Wars.). He often invites you for tea, setting aside small treats for you as the two of you sit, dishing out silly gossip over tea.
Actually. Your job was much less chambermaid, and much more 'best friend to the Lord's daughter, accidental lover ish) of the Lord, and the Maester's good friend'.
A very confusing job title, of course.
Still - the house staff were none the wiser, seeing your time spent with Robb as extra chores they wouldn't have to do, which only benefitted the two of you, for the most part.
Why 'for the most part'? Well, it didn't help the late night doubts. Thoughts creeping in as you'd lay there, wondering what exactly you were doing with your life.
Were you happy, like this? Fooling around with the Lord as though the two of you were stupid teens, giggling and shushing each other as you hid from everyone and anyone. Only to leave awkwardly, and pretend as though Alessa's father didn't just drag his tongue along your folds like a man starved. Or that you didn't press unholy kisses along his thighs a few floors away, before returning to sit with her as she gossiped and rambled about the other young ladies.
Actually, it was all quite a lot for you. You'd lie awake at night exhausted from running between father and daughter, and back again.
Truth be told, it wasn't at all what you had asked for.
So you made a decision - one that was equally as stupid as it was smart.
You pulled back.
It all started the day before, when you took the usual breakfast tray up to Robb. Upon delivering the tray, instead of sitting with him as he pressed open mouthed kisses all along your neck as his wandering hands would roam over your thighs, you stepped back.
He frowned immediately, cocking his head as he reached for his food.
You made no move towards him, not even when he turned his body to face you,
"Erm.."
"Anything else, my Lord?"
"N-no.. that'll be all.."
He bites his tongue, holding back an, 'Are you okay, love?', watching you closely as you took back the tray without a single word. Not even a glance in his direction, to soothe his worries. Nothing, whatsoever.
He sat in his chair, puzzled - befuddled, even - for an hour.
In fact, he only gets up when the Maester visits him, encouraging him to leave his room (even if it is just for the study).
Meanwhile, after only two days of pulling away, you're finally feeling somewhat relaxed - the stress of attending to both Robb and Alessa easing slightly. A small part of you feels bad - it's not his fault, after all. But you remember the last six weeks of difficulty, with you running between father and daughter, and your heartstrings tug just a little less.
During the day, at least.
However at night it is immensely worse as the guilt creeps in once again. What if he thinks you hate him? You don't - you can't. He treats you so well, so sweetly. Each touch pressed with a kiss, locked into your skin as he whispers soft words across you. And everytime he comes remotely close to hurting you in any way shape or form, he pulls away - almost scared of breaking you.
Actually, now that you had thought about it…
Six weeks, and he hadn't actually fucked you.
At all.
Sure, his hands had felt you. Your hands had felt him. His tongue had learnt you, and yours had learnt him.
But he hadn't actually taken care of you. Was it.. wrong of you, to expect it? To want it, to need it, to crave it? Small pangs rushed through your heart as your brain raced three hundred miles faster than it ever needed to.
What if you were nothing more than a toy to him? The thought had occurred to you before too - but before you were able to delude yourself into thinking no. Now you lay on your bed, tears falling from your eyes quietly onto the pillow on which your head lay as you reckoned with the realisation that he was a Lord at the end of the day.
And it would be strange, even for him, to take such good care of you - wouldn't it?
You can't even raise a hand to wipe them away, small sniffles filling your quarters as you clutch your mother's blanket up to you - your only real source of comfort.
It occurred to you then, that perhaps the Stark Loneliness Epidemic was contagious.
On the other hand, Robb Stark was furious.
Well… not quite.
But he was stood yelling at silly knights in the snow, who had once again broken the rules. Realistically, he wouldn't even be here. Usually, the incident would be reported to him and he'd wave off the issue of handling the knights and delivering punishment to their leader as he concerned himself with more pressing matters instead.
However, two long days without you had proven difficult. He found himself longing for you, needing you as you stood far from him. He couldn't ignore the frustration that built within his soul, denied the one person that finally let him feel normal (in a sense) again.
So here he was, out in the snow. Yelling.
To be entirely honest - he couldn't really remember what they had done. Something about drinking too much, causing some kind of nuisance. Something stupid. But it really was enough for him to finally let out some frustration as the soldiers just… stood there. Silent. Unable to respond (because who would talk back to the Lord? I wouldn't!).
When he had finished berating the men, who weren't quite sure if they could leave or not, he stood quietly - turned away from them as he thought to himself.
Did he.. did he offend you? Do something to hurt you?
Had he caused you suffering?
Had you regretted it?
It was quite silly, actually. Especially because by the time he had finished contemplating, everyone who had been out with him had already left. Leaving him all alone, in the snow. He suddenly recalled the undershirt he wore with his breeches - why would he have collected all of his robes to wear, when he could just run out in these - and cursed himself quietly for doing so.
What would he do now? There was no real way back inside the household. Not like this. And Maester Luwin would probably be asleep by now…
An idea began forming in his mind.
You were still sniffling away, pillow long since coated in your tears. You want to get up and dry them, but at the same time, the soft dampness of the pillow comforts you. Offers you solace on this lonesome night, as you remain curled up on your small bed.
This comfort does not last long.
Three sharp knocks at your window have you jumping up from your bed, gathering your blanket around yourself - a makeshift robe concealing your modesty (to some extent) as you approach your window with caution. You pick up a knitting needle on the way - a makeshift weapon, of course - as you slowly open the curtains…
…and there stands your Lord. In the cold, shivering and shaking as he gestures to open the window.
You pull a face, confused, and he finds himself stuck in just how pretty you look all dazed and shocked - before suddenly remembering the cold that nips away at his skin, peeking through the tatters of his undershirt. Through the fogged up window, you see him mouth the words, 'Let me in!', and you briefly consider the consequences of not doing so.
It's not worth it, you think, as you toss away all cares, anxieties and boundaries you had felt and set over the last two days.
Well, there goes your peace and quiet.
The blanket drops from around you as you shimmy the window up, and you miss the way his eyes drog to you - immediately raking over your chemise before shaking his head and looking back up at you. You reach a warm, soft hand out to him, which he reciprocates with his cold, snow-kissed hand. For a moment, the two of you stare at each other.
He takes in just how pretty you look. The candles behind you illuminate you with a warm, intimate glow that he thinks only he should be privy to. Your hair, strewn around you, falls in the softest curls around your face. He notes the tear streaks on your face (and stores that image deep in his brain… for later use, of course. Part of him wonders how pretty you'd look crying for him). He finds himself thinking that.. yes, he'd love to be at your every beck and call.
You, on the other hand, allow yourself to take his own appearance in. Gone is the usually put together Lord of Winterfell, replaced with the vulnerable man you've quickly gotten to know. He looks… well. There are perhaps not enough words to quite explain just how he looks. But if you were to try…
He looks like an angel. A beautiful, frost covered angel, as pretty snowflakes rest gleefully across his eyelashes, batting back at you. His eyes, the very same deep blue reflected behind him in the snow, pull you in. You swear you can practically see pale blue wings behind him, fluttering as specks of snow fall hopelessly around him. His hair, tossed with the usual peppered streaks, only looks prettier under the moonlight - accented by small droplets of snow.
The two of you exchange no words, merely holding one another's hands as candles flicker behind you, and snow drops behind him. It's only when the two of you hear someone in the corridor outside your quarters, probably seeking the bathroom, that you finally pull him over the window and inside.
Once inside, his hands immediately find your waist and tug you into his embrace, rolling circles into the skin of your hips on pure instinct. His head finds your neck - a place that has become very familiar to him - and he groans as he inhales your scent again. Your heart pangs as realisation sets in.
He… missed you?
Genuinely, really missed you, by the looks of things. Of course the needy hands around your waist quickly changing to arms wrapped around you were the first signs - ones you expected too. What you didn't expect were tears, rolling off his eyelashes onto your skin. Quiet sniffles as he held you close, only pulling away to hold your face in his hands.
And when he does, he doesn't kiss you. He doesn't turn you around, backing you up against the bed as his mouth and tongue battle for dominance against you.
He looks at you.
Really looks at you.
Dear Gods! If this is what two days did to a man…
"I.. I missed you. I really, really missed you, dove. Thought I did something wrong.. hurt you… Did I? Do something wrong? Please, lovie, need you to tell me. I can't stand the thought of hurting you."
You can feel the strings of your heart tugging, in separate directions, all leading to him as his eyes find yours with that look. The one that has you up at three in the morning, thinking about whether he wants more or not. The one that haunts your every dream, every waking moment and shatters your soul until all that remains is… him.
He's staring back at you, and you're silent.
"Something? Anything?"
What do you even say to him? How do you go about explaining anything, at all? You want to say something to explain yourself, to at the very least explain what had been tormenting you over the last six weeks, but not a single sound found its way out of your throat,
"…Was I that bad, love?"
"No! No, Gods, no.."
"Yet here we stand."
He has you now. You're opening and closing your mouth, with words just on the tip of your tongue, but not quite fully formed enough to create coherent sentences. His hands find your hips again, pulling you back towards the bed, into his lap,
"Go on, love. I'm not going anywhere tonight.."
He lets you take your time, waiting patiently for you to find your words before you speak. When you do,
"I.. you didn't do anything wrong, Robb. I just.. needed a break?"
"A break?"
"Not a full break! Just a moment to breathe again."
"My hands have.. never been on your throat..? Is that something you want to try?"
"I- what? I mean.. I guess? At some point? No - wait - that's not what I'm saying!"
"Then what?"
"I am.. somewhat tired of running between you and Alessa. I love both of you dearly, and want the best for both of you, but it is exhausting going from sneaking around in your chambers and comforting and consoling you only to go comfort and console Alessa. And then ensure that she knows she's worth more than those horrible other young ladies, who are so mean! For no reason! And to do that without overstepping my boundaries? Oh, and you know, the other day when you left a mark on my neck? I had to lie about that to her! Because how am I supposed to say, 'Oh, yes! This mark? Oh, your father left it on me about fifteen minutes ago! I know, that's so funny-"
Two soft lips press against yours mid-ramble, muffling your words into a quiet, 'Mmph-!' as they move against you. He guides your body down onto the bed - hands, body and lips softer than ever as they move over and around you.
You let him.
Because despite everything. Despite the fact that you very much did want to hold your own, push him further away to give you time to think, you couldn't. Not when he was here, with you. Not when every fibre of your being needed him.
He feels you relaxing into his touch as he angles his face better against yours, hands finding your cheeks and holding them there. Your own hands find his hair and the back of his neck, almost pulling him closer. Not once do his lips leave your mouth. Not once.
Time moves strangely around the two of you - practically forgotten in the desperate kiss that has the two of you panting and heaving as you catch your breath again,
"Well, that was.."
"..Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"So.. everything you said-"
"I meant it."
"Even the 'I love you' part?"
"…"
"Oh, don't tell me you've forgotten your words already, dove. Am I that good?"
"I did not say that, did I?"
"You most definitely did."
"I most definitely did not."
"Did too."
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did no- You're a grown man. Why are we doing this?"
"Because somehow, my love, you have forgotten your own words! You said - and this was at the beginning of your little ramble - 'I love both of you dearly, and want the best for both of you…' yada, yada, yada-"
"I did not say that!"
"Yes, you did! I would know! I was listening, you know?"
"By the Gods.."
"By the Gods."
"Well.. this is wonderful. No, no - this is wonderful. First I try to pull away, thinking it'll give me some peace - it does not! It does anything but that! I spend-"
"Are we rambling again?"
"-the majority of my time suffocated by my own guilt, wondering if my choice was right or wrong! And then-"
"We're rambling again."
"-I spend the entire of this night lying in bed awake spiralling into my own fears and anxieties. Oh, and just after I am done spiralling, the very subject of my pains and affections all at once-"
"Is that me? I'm going to assume that's me."
"Of course it's you! Who else would it be? Oh you foolish man!"
"Calling your Lord a fool now, are we?"
"I- No! I just-! Gods, you're insufferable!"
"Go on.."
You miss the look of pure love and adoration in his eyes as he stares back at you. Actually, it's more than love and adoration - he's practically besotted with you, hearts shimmering in his eyes, lips pulled out in a lovesick smile as he watches you become more and more animated with another ramble,
"Anyway - you turn up! Outside my window, in tatters - oh my Gods, Robb, your clothes are a mess! Quick, take that shirt off, I'll fix it-"
"-my love. There are other ways to ask me to undress myself, you know~"
"Not like that! Not right now."
"Perhaps later?"
"Perhaps. Now hand it over."
He obliges (and you note just how well he follows your instruction), handing his shirt over as you find your small sewing kit. Thank the Gods you keep it so close, threading the needle as carefully as you can as you somehow still continue rambling,
"-and you must've been freezing out there! What were you doing in the cold?"
"If I said I was attempting to impress you, then what?"
"Robb."
"Yes dove?"
"Robb."
"…I couldn't get back inside."
"Lord of Winterfell, yes?"
"Now, now."
"What I'm saying is… Erm.. wait, wait.. Yes, what I was saying was that- Oh, I'm.. not actually sure what I'm saying anymore. I seem to have.. lost my thread of thought. Where was I going with this?"
"You were mad at me?"
"Yes, yes, I know that! But why?"
"…"
"I can't remember for the life of me.."
"Probably for good reason, hmm lovie?"
You sigh, shaking your head as he carefully inches closer to you until he's sat very comfortably behind you - his legs on either side of yours as his head finds your neck and shoulder again. In response, your lips involuntarily draw up into a smile when he sighs into your skin, lips pressed to your shoulder. The two of you sit quiet for a minute, as the realisation slowly creeps up on you:
You just confessed your love to him.
What an idiot! What an idiot you must be, mending your Lord's shirt as he sat with his arms wrapped around you, after you had just confessed to loving him! You could hear your next spiral coming along as you sat there, needle passing through the shirt. At the very same time, Robb found himself falling asleep - his arms wrapped tightly around your torso, his head slipping into a more comfortable position on your shoulder. In fact, you hadn't realised he had fallen asleep until he began snoring.
So now you sit stuck in his arms as he sleeps, with nothing but your own spiralling thoughts to keep you company. You attempt to whisper softly to him - you don't want to wake him up of course, but if he is awake… well,
"Robb..?"
You don't expect an answer, not with the way he's snoring on your shoulder, arms clasped around you as though you'd leave if he were to even slightly loosen his grip on you,
"Hmm? What is it, lovie?"
You'd be lying if you said the light rasp in his voice didn't turn you on, didn't send heat pooling between your thighs. Gods, was that all it took?
"I just.. wanted to… see if you were still awake..?"
Even he sees through your lie, shifting himself around and pulling you back down onto the bed. The two of you face one another - him with his eyebrows raised, and you with your eyebrows drawn together,
"You're a horrible liar, my love."
"I am not-! That! That right there is what confuses me!"
"What?"
"You can't just casually say, 'my love', and expect me to just act like everything's normal between us!"
"Are you not?"
"Am I not what?"
"My love?"
"I-? What-? What do you mean?"
"Oh, erm.. Well, this is awkward. I thought it was fairly obvious, didn't you?"
"What..?"
His hand raises to hold your cheek, two fingers tenderly stroking as he sighs, relaxing his face. Your own face remains very much unrelaxed, still contorted in confusion,
"You are my love. Do you think I would be here just to toy with you? Just to play with you? As though I were some fool? Is that what you take me for now, dove? You haunt my nights, and my days. I know, I know. It.. is not an ideal situation we find ourselves in. Not with our positions, and I fear that for now we must keep this more secret, under wraps, yes?"
"So, you love me, but you wish to keep this a secret?"
"Well, yes, essentially-"
You can't stop the frown on your face, nor the way anger immediately fills your face. Though this is not a small, petty anger like before. Nor is this the type you can easily dismiss. This is the type that courses through your veins, burning bright as you fume. You barely remember that other people sleep in this wing of the castle, as you seethe, breaking away from his touch and rising to sit up properly. How dare he!
And it's not that you don't understand - you do! You really do, but surely a man of his status, of his power shouldn't be so fearful?
"Am I an embarrassment to you, My Lord?"
You don't miss how he winces at the venom lacing your words, shaking his head. He sits up with you, hands reaching out to you - except instead of welcoming him, you swat them away. Hurt flashes across his eyes, but remains in yours,
"You aren't an embarrass-"
"And yet you wish to keep me hidden. Under wraps. That is embarrassment, is it not? I understand entirely, My Lord. It would not look good for the Lord of Winterfell to be caught falling in love with his daughter's chambermaid."
He relaxes. Of course you'd understand! And just like a fool, he ignores what he should actually be paying attention to,
"Thank the Gods you understan-"
"Leave."
"What???"
"Leave! Now! Take your tattered shirt, stupid eyes and leave. At this very instant, My Lord, before I say something that I surely will regret."
He sits up now, eyes searching your face again, before he huffs and shakes his head, standing up and taking his shirt back from you. You watch his every move closely, with an anger that continues to stew and seethe,
"You truly want me to leave?"
"Yes." (Do you?)
"Fine! I will. Do not expect favours from me-"
"I never did."
"Good. And you shouldn't, going forward either."
"I never will."
In the middle of it all, he pauses and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turns to you with a frown on his face,
"I… I was good to you. I have been kind, and caring and loving-"
"Loving, yet you feel shame! Shame, when you look at me. Do you not think I see it? When you rush to hide me, to push me aside when even the slightest hint that someone would come in presents itself? I should have known better than to trust some Lord-"
"And this is your opinion of me! You see me, as nothing more than a Lord! Thank you oh, so kindly for explaining this to me!"
"-If you would listen to me-"
"You have said quite enough - and I am in complete understanding of your feelings, and have nothing more than to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me, then, for having taken your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness. I shall not see you outside of who we truly are - I, Lord and you, my daughter's chambermaid!"
He does not give you chance to reply, hastily leaving through the very window he entered from.
Which leaves you, all alone. For a moment you are silent, allowing what had just happened to sink in.
And once that moment passes, your body lurches forwards, broken sobs muffled by your pillow as you lay there, tears once again streaming down your face as you drift off to sleep - not willingly, but out of need.
What had you done?
Meanwhile, Robb stormed through the grounds, blood boiling with an unjust anger. Who did you think you were? He must have seemed utterly insane, hurriedly blitzing through the snow as he muttered to himself.
It appeared the old Lord of Winterfell was back.
It was a good thing then, that Maester Luwin happened to be awake and noticed the Lord stood outside, opening the door for him,
"I take your.. walk outside has bee-"
"Not tonight, Maester."
The Maester furrowed his brows, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again as the Lord stormed through his quarters, finding the passage up to his own chambers. On his way up, he turned back to face the Maester, final words clearly signifying… something had happened,
"And if you could bring my food from tomorrow onwards, that would be appreciated."
"…Very well, My Lord. Good ni-"
He does not give him time to respond either, rushing up to his own chambers. Once inside, the Lord hastily strips himself of any reminder of you (for example - the undershirt you had fixed for him) and bundles himself under the many furs and blankets.
Once again, the night felt lonely. The moon outside taunted him, surrounded by the blissful company of the stars and skies. Spindly shadows dance in the dark of the night - rejoicing in his torment as crystalline drops fall from his eyes, strolling down his face with a leisure unmatched. Not even the warmth of the fire - roaring and raging in his grief - nor the bundles of furs and blankets could offer him solace.
He lets a choked sob tumble out of his throat, crying alone until he falls asleep from sheer exhaustion.
By the time morning had found you, you were freezing.
Not just the regular cold you had faced most mornings. Actually, genuinely freezing. The kind of cold that mixed in with your tears and created a horribly overwhelming freeze, infiltrating your chest and blooming across like a horrible plague.
You might as well have had the plague.
It sure would be better than being plagued and haunted by your own mental torments and anguishes.
Still, you gather yourself together and make your way down to the kitchen, ready to take up the Lord's breakfast. Despite everything, you will remain professional, and you will not allow this to ruin your work.
Until you find out that actually - the Lord has requested Maester Luwin take his meals instead. One of the other maids shakes her head before pitifully adding,
"Don't worry sweetheart - he does that. Maester Luwin is just… more of a comfortable figure, hmm? Now go on - the young Lady will be expecting you!"
You attempt to dispel your shock, nodding as you slowly move away towards Lady Alessa's chambers.
Had he really requested the Maester take over instead?
The anger from the previous night begins to bubble and boil again - but once you arrive at the Lady's chambers, hearing her weep from inside, all anger and hurt turns into pity and sorrow as you enter. The room is a mess, with blankets and sheets strewn around in some sort of breakdown. Two maids stand off to one side - clearly somewhat distressed by the young Lady's outburst, as she wails in a corner. You gesture to the maids to quietly clean, as you make your way over to her. In her hands, she clutches a paper, her knuckles practically white from just how tightly she holds on to the letter,
"He's… He's marrying me off! To some stupid Lord!"
Ah, there it was. You recall some conversation with the Lord about her betrothal to Lord Ned Umber's son, Randyll Umber. From that conversation (and subsequent conversations with the Maester, too), you had gathered that this was a good match for her - they were loyal, and kind. They were less likely to mistreat Lady Alessa.
Yet that did not make this fair. Nor did it make it kind to her.
"Where is my choice? Must I really be sent so far?"
"My Lady, you will not be far-"
"How can you say that! Of course I will be far!"
You bite your tongue as the other two maids depart from the room, finally leaving just the two of you as Alessa collapses into your arms. Your heart tugs for her, and you find your own tears resurfacing as you attempt to blink them away, hand softly patting her back in comfort,
"I do not even know him! What if he is a tyrant? Then what do I do?"
"Then we will handle it, My Lady."
"What-?"
"Where you go, I go, no?"
She pulls back, a question clearly on her mind as her eyebrows draw together in some pained expression. Clearly she has put together some thoughts, but she chooses not to reveal them to you. Though you wish to press - and you fear you know exactly what she has realised - you do not, choosing to focus on consoling her instead,
"My Lady - it will not be a bad thing to meet the young Lord. Perhaps he is not as bad as you think he could be! But, My Lady, will you regret it for the rest of your life if you do not meet him?"
She does not respond, continuing to cry into your shoulder. You take the opportunity to continue,
"Meet him once, My Lady. There is no harm done in meeting him at least once. If you do not like him, then you can refuse after, no?"
It is in that moment that she truly seems like a child. You recall hearing some of the maids chattering about as they worked in the kitchens, around a week ago - casually throwing around kitchen gossip as though it were normal. In their conversations, you had heard something about the Lord being all but an attentive parent - and you can only imagine the passing of their mother impacted the children.
"You… Gods, this sounds so silly-"
"Never, My Lady."
"I do not know what I would do without you. I sometimes wish you were more my mother, than just a chambermaid.."
The words hit you, like a sharp blade to the heart - twisted and ripping through each string as it bleeds out over the ground below you. It is a good thing she does not say anything else, for you would not be able to consider it. Not when you were busy stuck on the words she so casually dropped, as though it were nothing.
There the two of you sit - with the young Lady tormented by her struggles, and you tortured by your own anguish. Time passes strangely, but eventually the two of you pull away, drying both of your tears. You set tea for the two of you, and she excitedly tells you new gossip - as though the two of you hadn't just been crying,
"…I suppose then, the two of us should prepare? Father mentioned in this letter that we would be leaving for Last Hearth on the day after the morrow.."
You nod, and the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon preparing for the journey. It's only when you leave for the evening meal, clutching your chest as cold once again blooms across it, coughing and spluttering in the corridor as you wince that you realise perhaps something might be wrong.
You doubt it, though, remembering you had left your window unintentionally open the night before.
A meal of soup and then an early night should fix it, right?
this chapter's notes T_T:
and this one's from my own private personal server, from my "things im telling the eunuch about" channel:
i don’t cry easy as of late because of the antidepressants i’m on. the tears get stuck behind my eyes and thankfully, nothing has been too bad recently to make me need to cry (sad tears at least). anyways. chapter 34 was genuinely powerful enough to bring me to tears it was written so well and it was so beautiful and the characters even outside of your story mean so much to me already and augh ☹️
all this to say i love your fic so so much and im so grateful you’re writing it 😭
i’m also on antidepressants that make crying difficult and this is the greatest testament to that chapter oh my god. i definitely got a good cry out of writing it, normally i gotta cue up my ‘crying material’ playlist.
thank you for the incredible love, i’m really enjoying writing this and i’m so glad you guys enjoy reading it as well :))
Hey Echo, just wanted to say I love your writing, I fell in love with all the characters in LaD especially El and Eki, and I'm so looking forward to the next chapter and being able to read through the rewrite and re-experience the story!
The way you write grief and the process of healing is so real and hits so close to home, to say nothing of the visceral emotions I feel from the rest of the story- the anger on behalf of the MC over the shitty date, the absolute rage I feel for Juliet, the anticipation and need to see how the rest of the story plays out and finally reach some kind of happy ending for the poor tormented MC and El- it's all so good and heartwrenching and augh!
I've been getting so much love lately in my inbox—I feel bad for not answering all the lovely praises. But thank you so much! I usually keep this kind of ask to myself cuz, as most of you know, I love me some praises just to stroke that ego of mine. Just for me.
I will never tire of saying how much I appreciate and am grateful for the love LAD but also I am receiving. I'm no professional writer, so receiving compliments means a lot!!
you should uh erm.... write zoro with a panty gag too?! [gets down on my knees] PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE
Zoro!Oneshot🔞
Zoro x Reader!
A/N: OFC,OFC OMG PLS GET OFF THE GROUND LMAOOO
CW, this fic will contain NSFW but more specifically: Panty gag, Zoro being a tease, noticeable size kink mention. Zoro a top in this, BEARHUG POSITION (so a little bit of body weight squish… but its ok it’s cute :P)
A late light—the moonshine hitting the window of your room. It’s late—obviously.
But Zoro was awake. He couldn’t sleep. His body was hot, and his eyes couldn’t stop looking at you. He turned, wrapping an arm around your lower waist, causing you to wake from the sudden weight pressing against you.
“Zoro?” you murmured, still half asleep “Mhm…” he exhaled, the warm breath from his nose brushing against your neck. “Have you been up?” you asked, your body turning to face him. “Yeah, can’t really sleep.”
He avoided eye contact—but you noticed. Was he embarrassed or something?
You could see the blush, even with the blue tint from the moonlight pouring through the window. “Why? Is something wrong?” you asked innocently. His eyes flicked to yours for a split second, then looked away again.
“Could you look at me? Why are you acting so weird?” you pressed, your voice more awake now, more curious. He hesitated. His brows furrowed slightly, like he was annoyed with himself more than anything else.
“…It’s nothing,” he dismissively replies, then finally looked at you his eyes meeting yours. “You’re warm. And you smell good. And my brain won’t shut up.” There was a pause. Then he groaned softly before burring his face in your neck, muffling “It’s pissing me off…”
Hands combing through his green hair, your nails lightly scratched his scalp like a gentle little massage.
“Well… what’s your mind saying right now?” you asked. He pulled his head back and let it slowly fall onto the pillow. “It’s too late for me to say it,” he mumbled. “Too late?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t respond right away. His hand shifted slowly—from your waist down to your thigh. Then he looked at you. His eye lids are low.
“Oh— Oh!”
You realized exactly what he meant. “You’re stupid,” Zoro sighs.
Your pointer finger drags slowly along the line of his scar, starting at his chest and tracing it all the way up, right to where it ends.
His breath is uneven. He’s trying so hard to seem composed, but you can feel his body getting stiff.
“What’s wrong, swordsman…?” you tease, voice low “You started this.” adding on. Zoro’s fingers twitch a bit from the tension between you two. “Are you nervous?” You bring your hands to his jaw, slightly cupping his face. “Never..” He smirks lightly before both of your lips press against eachother, theres no hesitation either. Just a straight rough passionate kiss.
Your lips changing positions constantly, a string of drool connecting to eachothers lips only for your lips to collide again. Muffled moans coming from the both of you. Zoro moving on top of you. He presses his forehead against yours. His hand moves to feel your waist. The noticeable size difference embarrassed you.
He pulls off your underwear as he takes it off he lets it hang from his wrist. As he was about to take off his pants you took your pair from his hand. “How about this” catching him offguard as you wrap the cloth around his mouth. He doesnt do anything. just stared blankly at you. Is he broken….? “Ah…” you sweat a little. “It’s for you to shut up while were—“ he interrupts. “Y’think th’s gonna stop me fr’m talkin’?” he fully takes his pants off with his boxers. Zoro’s cock laying on your stomach over your bellybutton.
Your eyes didnt know where to land. Zoro gently moves his cock to your cunt, he looks at you for a moment before slowly pushing it inside of you. “Augh! Z-Zoro! too.. fast” Your hands press against his stomach. “R’lax, I got’chu…” His entire upperbody is pressing against yours now. He’s hugging you in his arms and finally starts moving. Everything was happening at once. Zoro’s weight ontop of you, while he thrusts his cock in and out of you was overwhelming.
Zoro’s gagged moans in your neck as loud quiet claps filled the room. “Mmmh” You lean your head on top of his. “So good Zoro please don’t stop..” He wants to savor this. at first, his thrusts were slow, he wants you to be comfortable with every inch of him. You give him soft kisses on his neck, your thumb glazing the side of his ear. Making his stomach knot. His body getting sweaty now, and his pace starts picking up. Your other hand scratching his back it’s definitely going to leave marks in the morning.
“Mmff.. feel tha’ good?” Even through your panties you can still hear that cockiness in his voice. “Y’r scratchin’ me, y’know” You dont respond. It feels like you can’t. Zoro’s pace was too much for you to do anything but moan. Your eyes rolling back to your head, you try to arch your back but Zoro is in the way, it feels like you’re squished, it’s comforting though— having Zoro ontop of you like this feels so sweet.
He noticeably gets faster. “gnna cmph..” he grunts as be bites your cloth. “Z-Zoro!” in your final moments, you both finish. He gives a few desperate thrusts for more of Zoros cum pump inside of you. He finally takes off your panties from over his head, he dangles them in your face. “You needed these more than I did” you slap him playfully. “Shut up!”
part 2 to 1x post-forsaken go!!! (i feel like i’m writing a fic summary-)
while 1x is taking in the loss of their childhood at face value, shedletsky also came into the realm to mourn the loss of his child. so basically 1x sees the guy who ripped away their innocence, while shed sees the being that became of his child.
one nearly strangling each other to death later, the two calm down and decide, “hey, we can talk about this instead, why not do that.”
1x: “By the way, you seem like you’re angry. I thought I was supposed to contain all of your anger.” (in a very unhateful way)
Shedletsky: “Pfft, what do you know? Are you less energized or something?” (in a very hateful way)
1x: “Yes, actually.”
Shedletsky:
Shedletsky: “Oh.”
yeah so basically 1x started losing hate as they traveled through robloxia, and shedletsky started to gain it back. until it’s basically 50/50 between the two. telamon’s hate is so strong that he has to have two people split it evenly for it to be a natural amount.
shedletsky then suggests the two go over to the hq, because he has something to show 1x. 1x goes because they have nothing better to do.
at the hq, shedletsky goes to his old office where he kept some of 1x’s stuff. including, the sweater they wore in their mental late teens (timeless). why the hell is this is shedletsky’s office-
anyways, 1x goes glow-up mode (/lhj) and freshens up in the bathroom. even cutting their hair to mid-length. (shed totally responded to that with “noo!!! your beautiful locks!!!!!!” like an absolute MOM)
all 1x wants at this point is to bury their crazy past and live a normal life. they don’t have to be “telamon’s special creation” anymore, so they don’t want to.
then, 1x decides to try and find a place to stay. they don’t want to be in the fourth dimension, because it reminds them too much of their past. they don’t want to stay in the hq, because it’s an office building. they especially don’t want to stay in sfoth, because people fight and scream there. and it smells like death. (rejuv rotten ptsd mayhaps,,,)
they decided to try the living spaces of people they knew. they thought about 007n7’s place, but 7n7 already has c00lkidd and probably pr3typriincess to worry about, plus he’s probably barely scraping by financially. 1x would probably just be another mouth to feed in their current state. they thought about jane doe’s home, but 1x couldn’t stand john doe back in the forsaken realm. they thought about doom, but upon further thought they thought it would be best to not associate with him any longer. 1x even thought about azure, but azure lives with a cult. so that left them with shedletsky.
reluctantly, 1x decides to go with shedletsky. they can’t believe they’re now going to live with their mortal enemy, creator, and pretty much their father. but they realize that he’s also trying to bury his past. creator and creation, man and his reflection, father and son, both striving for the same future. maybe it’ll be easier to achieve this goal by working together.
— ink anon (damn 1x you’re just like shed living rent-free /j [builderman also lives with them trust, i love grouping my favorites into families])
SGHJGDJHFGJHSDFG TJIS IS SO GOOD AUGH
they're both trying gng.... shakes them around... rotates them with mind... skrunklies... also the callback with the timeless skin being a shirt is so cool. love tiny little references like these ehe
the dadhogs r so soft and cute it makes me sick in the BEST way possible i love them so much
your writing is elite (AND scourge content in the year 2025? we’re being so fed thank you)
Daddy's Gardening - Special Thank You
Pairing: Sonic x Reader; Shadow x Reader; Silver x Reader; Scourge x Reader
Genre: Fluff, light comedy
Rating: T (Teen)
Warnings: Light swearing
A/N: I simply don't have the words to thank you enough for all the love everyone gives me for my stories. When I started writing, I never thought I'd reach this level. But I'm grateful for it. And what better way to say thank you? With a special story! I hope you enjoy it, and if you want, you can send requests for more Scourge! After all, I know he's been a bit forgotten lately, but I don't want to abandon him so soon, so feel free to request more Scourge as much as you want!
Sonic
The blue hedgehog was relaxed against the couch that late afternoon, the console controller in his hand while his green eyes focused on the television and the colorful pixels passing on the screen. He yawned, pausing the game and getting up, heading to the kitchen for a drink.
On the way, his ears twitched to the sides, catching the sound of the front door opening and the quick footsteps of his daughter crossing the hallway, it was about time she got home from school anyway.
Grabbing a soda can, the hedgehog popped it open, taking a long sip with a content sigh. Then, with the can in hand, he walked back toward the living room.
However, when he reached the room, he noticed the coffee table in front of the couch where he had been sitting, and something different caught his attention.
A cactus. The twisted, odd-looking plant with long spines was placed right in the center table, where just moments ago there had been nothing.
“Daughter... you’re the one who brought this mistake of nature here?” Sonic called to the little one. She quickly appeared at the end of the hallway, walking back into the living room.
“Dad... it’s not a mistake of nature... I got the cactus, a lady at school gave it to me and told me to take good care of it...” she said affectionately, approaching the cactus, looking at the horrid plant with tenderness.
“Looks more like she wanted to get rid of it than give it away... But anyway, at least it won’t die if you forget to water it.” Placing the can back on the coffee table, Sonic threw himself back into his spot, picking up the controller to resume his game.
“Be careful with it, Dad... its spines are painful,” the little one warned before leaving to return to her room.
Minutes passed, and Sonic promptly forgot about the cactus on the coffee table as he got distracted in an especially difficult level of the game. He stuck his tongue out, frowning in concentration.
Then, just as he finally managed to beat the boss of the level, his hand reached for the soda can.
But what he felt against his palm was not the cold metal of the can, but a piercing pain that made him jump up with a loud yelp.
“Ouch! Augh...” He hopped around, shaking his injured hand, seeing the long cactus spines stuck in his skin. “Damn, damn...” he muttered under his breath, running toward your bedroom.
Stopping at the doorframe, he gritted his teeth, hissing in pain. His desperate look met yours as you lay on the bed, reading a book.
“My love... can you help me out?” he said in a pained tone, showing the hand that now had more spines than his whole body usually did.
“Sonic, what happened?” you said in disbelief, tossing your book aside and quickly getting up to go to his side, seeing the situation he was in.
“A cactus defeated me...” he said, holding his hand out to you.
Frowning, you examined the spines, your fingers reaching for one to try and pull it, but it only made Sonic yelp again.
“Ow, ow... easy there, darling...”
“The spines are really stuck in here... I should have some tweezers somewhere...” Turning away, you went to look through the drawers.
The little blue hedgehog passed through the hallway at that moment, stopping to look at her father.
“You forgot the cactus was there, didn’t you?... I told you to be careful.” She shook her head in disbelief.
“That cactus shouldn’t have even entered this house...” Sonic shot back, narrowing his eyes at her.
“The cactus is part of the family now...” the little one said stubbornly, crossing her arms.
You returned to Sonic’s side with tweezers in hand.
“Darling... how about putting the cactus somewhere far from Daddy? That way he won’t hurt himself anymore,” you suggested, using the tweezers to pull out one of the spines.
The little one nodded at your proposal, skipping off toward the living room.
“I’ll give that cactus to Eggman when she’s not looking... Ow...” Sonic started to say, but immediately let out another yelp as you pulled another spine from his palm.
“Sonic... leave the cactus alone...” you said softly, holding another spine with the tweezers to pull from his hand. The hedgehog flinched a little, realizing it was going to be long, painful minutes to get them all out.
--*--
Sonic walked back to the kitchen, his hand now ungloved and bandaged. He sighed, scratching his neck, opening the cabinets to look for something to eat.
Finding nothing, the hedgehog sighed again, turning and heading toward the fruit bowl. He looked out the kitchen window, appreciating the late afternoon with a little smile on his face. Despite the pain of having cactus spines stuck in his hand, he admitted it had been a rather funny situation, one that probably would never happen again.
Then, he reached his hand to grab an apple, but instead of feeling the soft skin of the fruit against his good hand, he felt once again that same piercing, throbbing pain shoot through his body. Sonic jumped back again, shaking his hand and letting out another yelp.
“You son of a...” he said, tears forming in his eyes from the pain. Looking up, right next to the fruit bowl, almost hidden, was that deformed cactus.
You stepped into the kitchen, drawn by the sound of his yelp.
“What is it now? Don’t tell me you got pricked by the cactus again?” Crossing your arms, you observed Sonic, seeing the hand that had been fine just moments ago now also full of spines. “Yeah... you got pricked again...” you let out a muffled laugh at the situation.
Your daughter approached, peeking into the kitchen.
“This isn’t funny... And you, I thought your mother told you to put the cactus somewhere far from me...” Sonic said, stepping closer, still with his hand throbbing in pain.
“I did... you never touch the fruit bowl...” she said, crossing her arms.
“Darling... I think we already have enough spiky things in this house, don’t you agree? Better give the cactus to someone else, your dad just doesn’t mix well with dangerous plants...” you said softly to her, placing your hand on her shoulder.
“Fine... I wasn’t really going to keep it anyway, it would’ve died of thirst... I’d forget to water it...” she said with a shrug, walking to pick up the problematic plant.
Sonic walked up to you with the same puppy-dog face.
“What’s with that poor thing look?” you laughed. “Relax, my love... these wounds heal fast, you’ll be fine.” Placing your hand on his cheek, you turned, leading him back to the bedroom to once again go through the long process of pulling spines out of the hedgehog’s hand.
“I never want to see a cactus again in my life...” he said irritably, making you laugh once more at that unexpected situation.
Shadow
The black hedgehog was focused on the task at hand: sweeping the house. He carefully moved the broom, making sure to clear all the dust and dirt off the floor, leaving the house spotless.
The front door opened at that moment, making Shadow look curiously, spotting the little black hedgehog girl walking in, carrying a plant pot with a small shrub a bit bigger than she was.
“Hey, Dad...” she greeted, passing by him.
“Where did you find that?” he questioned, leaning the broom against the wall.
“I got it at school... It’s pretty, right?” she said proudly, showing off the plant.
“Looks like just weeds... But if you like it...” Shadow crossed his arms. “Put it on the table and we’ll water it later... And be careful not to spill dirt on the floor, I just swept...”
“Leave it to me...” she said, struggling a bit to place the pot on the table.
The shrub looked quite harmless from the outside — no spines, nothing scary, nothing that could hurt. It was really just a green bush.
Sighing, Shadow went back to cleaning the house diligently.
--*--
The next morning, Shadow slowly entered the kitchen, yawning, his quills messy, showing he had just woken up. His eyes landed on the plant at the center of the table, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Reaching for the cabinet, he opened it, grabbing the bag of coffee beans and a little container to use.
However, as he looked closer at the container, his eyes widened completely — something greenish and furry-looking was crawling inside the pot.
The hedgehog’s ears dropped to the sides, his nose scrunching in disgust as he placed the pot on the counter, examining the little creature more closely. He grabbed a folded paper and poked it, making the thing curl up into a spiral.
Shadow raised an eyebrow.
“What the—?” He leaned closer to observe, but suddenly flinched at the sound of a small thud on the counter nearby, jumping back as his red eyes scanned the area, spotting another one of those things, apparently fallen from the cabinet above.
Frowning, Shadow opened the cabinet, eyes widening as he saw at least five more of those crawling things all over the dishes.
You entered the kitchen slowly, yawning.
“Good morning, love...” You said, but froze in place when you saw the look of terror in his eyes as the hedgehog turned to you.
“Don’t take another step... This kitchen has an infestation.”
“What do you mean?” But before you could get an answer, the hedgehog dashed toward you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen, stopping at the doorway, staring inside. “Shadow... what’s in our kitchen?” You asked, starting to get worried.
Then, he pointed, showing you the several green and brown terrifying-looking things crawling inside the cabinet. You squinted, trying to figure out what they were.
“What are you two doing just standing here?” Both of you jumped at the sudden words of your daughter, who was now standing behind you.
“Our kitchen is infested with... grotesque larvae...” Shadow’s voice faltered a bit as he crossed his arms, staring impassively at the kitchen, probably remembering something he had seen before.
“Larvae?” The little one asked, looking inside the kitchen, stepping in.
“Wait...” Shadow tried to warn.
“It’s okay, dad, I know you’re just trying to protect us, but nothing will happen.” The little girl reassured, getting closer to the counter.
Her eyes scanned the creatures, meticulously analyzing the really grotesque appearance of those things, then she turned, stopping in front of you.
“Can I borrow your phone, mom...” You hesitated, then handed her the phone, curious to see what she would do.
The little one went back to the counter, aimed the camera, and snapped a photo, then began to research.
“Aha! I know what this is...” She said proudly, bouncing back to you. “Dad... it’s not a larva... This thing’s scientific name is Lonomia obliqua... or Brazilian Fire Caterpillar...”
“So it’s just a damn caterpillar? And here I thought it was harmful?” Shadow shook his head in disbelief, blushing slightly at how his protective instincts had gotten the better of him at that moment.
“Actually... it’s very venomous and has even killed people... It’s the most venomous caterpillar in the world, those tiny hairs inject the venom...” The little one noted naturally, making Shadow’s eyes widen.
He immediately grabbed both your wrists, pulling you even further away from the kitchen.
“How did they get in here?” He asked rhetorically.
“Probably came with my shrub... Funny, yesterday I hadn’t seen any, and now they’ve infested the kitchen...” The little girl scratched her chin, handing your phone back.
“We’re going to have to burn down the kitchen...” Shadow muttered with a dark look.
“Shadow! We’re not burning down the kitchen!” You argued.
“Those things are infesting everything... it’s dangerous!” He retorted.
“Let’s just sweep them into a bucket and then we’ll see what we do...”
“Set the bucket on fire... I won’t let venomous things stay near my family...”
“For Gaia’s sake, we’re not burning caterpillars!”
--*--
The black hedgehog still had a scowl as he quickly swept the floor, brushing the remaining dirt and the last caterpillars into a dustpan, dumping them inside a bucket.
Shadow sighed.
“That must’ve been the last one... Now what?” He turned to you.
“Well, caterpillars will eventually turn into moths... There must be a place that can take care of them until then...” You crossed your arms, looking at the bucket full of creatures.
“I’ll find such a place...” He said quietly, putting the lid on the bucket.
“Dad, are you taking the shrub too?” The little one ran up to him, holding the pot in her hands. Shadow’s gaze softened.
“No, dear... Just the larva... I mean, caterpillars...” He placed his hand on top of her head.
“But dad... I like the plant, but this is the caterpillars’ home... I’d feel bad leaving them without a house...” The little girl looked down at the floor.
Shadow gave a small smile, suddenly feeling a paternal pride swell inside him at his daughter’s attitude.
“Alright... I’ll take it along then... I bet Eggman would love a new plant at his doorstep.” Shadow flashed a rare amused smile, giving you a mischievous look.
“I don’t even recognize you...” You laughed.
“I’m just kidding... I wouldn’t want him to kill the caterpillars after all the work I had to sweep them up...” He said, picking up the pot.
“You’re worried about the caterpillars now? And not about him?” You laughed more.
Shadow only let out a ‘hmph’, turning to head out the door.
Silver
The white hedgehog walked slowly across the backyard lawn, carrying the watering can in his hands, humming softly to himself. Stopping near a faucet, he crouched down, filling the can until it reached what he considered a good amount.
Sighing, Silver walked back to the corner where he kept his little crops. But then, he spotted the white fur of a small hedgehog crouched among the plants. Smiling to himself, he approached his daughter.
“Hey, sweetheart... what are you doing there?” Getting closer, he stopped at her side, seeing what she was up to.
The little one was carefully planting a small seedling into the soil, it was already quite big, with some green fruits ready to ripen.
“I’m planting... I got it at school...” She said softly, focusing on the task.
“What a beautiful plant...” Setting the watering can aside, Silver knelt beside her. “What is it?” He asked curiously.
“Pepper...” Silver’s ears drooped slightly to the sides before returning to normal. He wasn’t a fan of peppers. In fact, he couldn’t understand how anyone could like something like that to eat. For him, just thinking about the spiciness was enough to make him shudder.
“P-pepper... ah, nice, honey... Do you know what kind of pepper?” He asked, hoping it was a milder type, like the Sweety Drop pepper.
“It’s a Carolina Reaper.” The white hedgehog’s eyes widened at his daughter’s words, his jaw dropping slightly as he stared at the seedling in disbelief.
“Carolina Reaper?” He repeated, trying to confirm if that’s what she really said.
“Yes, Carolina Reaper...”
“Sweetheart... do you know the reputation of that pepper?” He asked, a bit hesitant.
“Yeah, I know, it’s the strongest pepper in the world.” She said with a little grin. “Cool, right, dad? We can grow it and then sell it to people who like it.” Standing up, the little one crossed her arms, admiring the little plant.
“Yes, yes... I guess we can do that...” A bead of sweat ran down Silver’s forehead, he knew very well his own limits with peppers, but he was willing to let it slide this time, especially since it was his daughter who had chosen to plant that pepper.
--*--
Stretching, Silver yawned as he stepped out the back door of the house. As days went by, he had learned to live with and even grow fond of the new plant in his garden. After all, in the end, it hadn’t done him any harm, and his daughter liked taking care of it, watering it almost every day.
That morning, as part of his routine, he went outside to water his little vegetable patch and garden, wanting everything to bloom and stay green.
But suddenly, as soon as he got closer to the small crops, a strong, painful odor hit his nostrils, making Silver freeze right where he stood.
He knew that smell well, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Growling softly, his hand rubbed at his throat, feeling it burn and sting, his eyes starting to water from the odor.
The hedgehog turned around, running back inside the house, heading straight to the kitchen, opening the fridge, startling you as you looked at him.
Silver grabbed a carton of milk, opened it, poured it into a glass, and downed it all at once, letting out a relieved sigh.
“Silver? Is something wrong?” You asked, confused.
The hedgehog panted, his expression almost one of despair.
“The pepper...” He pointed outside, to the garden.
“Pepper?” You raised an eyebrow. “Did you eat a pepper?”
“N-no... I smelled it...” He looked at the milk carton, looking terrified. And for you, who knew him well, his reaction was actually understandable. The hedgehog really was more sensitive than normal to foods like that.
“But where did a pepper come from in your garden?” You asked, stepping closer to check if he was alright.
“I planted it, mom...” Your daughter said, standing at the kitchen door. “I got the seedling from school... Then I decided to put it with dad’s plants.” She said innocently.
“Sweetheart... Your dad has an aversion to peppers... He gets sick just from smelling them.” You said, moving closer to her and placing your hand on her head.
“Oh… I didn’t know… otherwise I wouldn’t have planted it…”
Her little eyes shifted into an almost regretful look as she turned her gaze to Silver.
“It’s okay, sweetheart… I didn’t want you to worry about me… It’s just that… today specifically the smell is worse than usual…” he said with his still-hoarse voice, pulling himself back together.
“It’s fine, Dad… I’ll take the pepper and put it in a pot, I think I can sell it to someone.” the little one said, running outside the house to look for a pot.
Silver sighed in relief, following her. You went after them, grabbing a cloth, handing it to Silver so he could press it against his nose to try to ease the strong odor.
Minutes passed until, finally, the little white hedgehog appeared from the middle of the plantation, carrying the plant in a pot in her arms, her shirt lifted over her nose while her eyes watered as well.
The little one stopped in front of Silver.
“T-the smell really is very strong…” she said in a nasal voice.
“Sweetheart, looks like you even took after your dad in that, huh?” Shaking your head in disbelief, you took the plant from her hands. “Take care of her, okay? I’ll try to keep the plant far from you two…” you said, walking away to place the plant somewhere safe from them.
Silver and his daughter stayed there, sniffling, watching as you left the backyard.
“I didn’t know peppers were that aggressive to my nose…” she said, sniffling and coughing softly from her burning throat.
“At least it’s good to know I’m not the only one…” Silver tried to laugh, but started coughing too. “Come on, daughter… Usually a glass of milk helps relieve it…” He held her hand, leading her back inside the house.
--*--
You were lying in bed, the blanket already pulled over you, holding a book in your hands, reading and slowly flipping through the pages, focused on the story.
Silver slid under the covers, a little tissue in his hands as he kept pressing it against his nose from the earlier exposure to the strongest pepper in the world.
Sighing tiredly, he practically collapsed onto the mattress, dragging himself closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he tried to snuggle against your arm.
But at that moment, that familiar burning odor once again infiltrated his nostrils, making Silver jolt back, pressing the tissue against his nose.
“Silver? What’s wrong?” you asked, worried, putting the book aside.
“Pepper…” he said nasally. Your eyes widened, lifting your arm, you sniffed, realizing the predominant smell of the powerful pepper, even making your own nose sting.
“Damn… I’m sorry… I’ll wash my arm…” you said with a guilty look, getting out of bed, leaving the hedgehog there with teary eyes.
When you returned, he had recovered a little, and you lay back down in your place.
“This sensitivity of yours to peppers is terrible, huh?” you laughed.
“You have no idea…” he said, sniffling, snuggling into you again to sleep. “I don’t want to see those terrible red things in front of me for a long time…” he muttered.
“Don’t worry… no peppers are coming into this house again…” you said with a smile, wrapping your arms around him to sleep.
Scourge
The green hedgehog was sitting on a little stool outside the house, facing the wooden fence, a few nails between his teeth while he frowned, focused on fixing the broken fence.
He hammered the nails quickly into the wood, securing them properly to keep everything in place. He stopped for a second, wiping the excess sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, then went back to concentrating.
But at that moment, his muzzle twisted as he caught a strange odor. He quickly turned, looking for the source of that unpleasant smell, but found nothing.
Still, his sensitive nostrils weren’t going to leave him in peace until he got rid of that source of agony.
Snorting, he walked inside, pinching his nose while struggling to breathe only through his mouth.
Scourge entered the house, the odor clearly growing stronger.
That’s when his eyes spotted his daughter, in one corner of the living room, placing a potted plant on the floor. Next to her, her younger sister approached, starting to observe as well.
“Ey… what the hell is that?” Scourge asked, narrowing his eyes at the huge red plant, with a hole in the middle and several white spots.
“Dad… it’s a flower, isn’t it pretty?” the older daughter asked proudly.
“It stinks…” he said irritably. “Really stinks… almost makin’ me toss up my lunch.”
“Don’t be dramatic… The way it beautifies the room is worth more than its smell…” the little one said, discreetly pretending she wasn’t also bothered by the plant’s odor.
“I don’t want my house smellin’ like sewage… ya better take this thing outta here, ‘fore I do it myself…” Clenching his fists, he waited for the little ones to take the pestilent plant away.
“I got this plant, Dad, I’m not taking it out…” the older one insisted. The younger, beside her, put her hand on her nose, trying to block the smell. The older one took her sister’s hand away, trying to make it look like it wasn’t as terrible as it was.
“Well then… I’ll leave you two locked up in this house, me an’ ya mom’ll head out… If ya can stand all day with this walkin’ sewer, then fine, keep it…”
“It’s not a walking sewer! Her name is rafflesia!”
“That ain’t the point here! And who even gave ya somethin’ like that? Couldn’t it have been, I dunno, a pot of lavender?” He crossed his arms, but quickly regretted taking his hand off his nose.
“What’s going on here? Why does the house smell like this?” Appearing at the doorway, hand over your nose as well, you saw the three hedgehogs standing in the living room, and next to your daughters, a huge red plant that was clearly releasing all that unpleasant odor.
“These brats dragged this disgustin’ thing into the house… and now they don’t wanna take it out!” Scourge said, nearly desperate.
“Okay… leave it to me…” you whispered to him, approaching the little ones. “Hey, darlings… I know you liked this flower… It really is pretty… But we also want the house to be livable too, right?” You placed your hand on their cheeks, the youngest nodding.
“Yeah… I guess that’s true…” the older one answered.
“Great… please let Daddy take care of the plant, and I promise I’ll get you a nicer-smelling flower… or even a fake rafflesia, so it won’t leave the house with this weird smell…”
The little ones nodded together.
“Okay… But Dad… you have to plant it somewhere it can grow, understood?” the little one pointed her finger at Scourge.
“Yeah yeah… I’ll do whatever I can…” He came closer, gathering the plant in his arms without hesitation, disappearing outside the house.
--*--
At night, you were finishing brushing your teeth in the bathroom. Scourge was leaning against the doorway, focused on his phone, waiting for you so you could go to bed together.
“You planted the rafflesia, right?” you asked, rinsing your mouth. He raised an eyebrow at you, a mischievous grin spreading on his face.
“Oh yeah… I planted it at the bottom of a rivar, ya know? That way it won’t be breathin’ out that rotten stink no more…” He chuckled.
“Scourge!” you scolded him.
“Ey, relax, I ain’t that bad… I dropped it off at a flowar shop, let ‘em deal with it… I ain’t wastin’ time plantin’ nasty flowers.” He stretched, walking with you to the bedroom.
“You really are hopeless.” Shaking your head in disbelief, you climbed into bed.
“Me?! And those brats who keep bringin’ this crap into the house?”
“They definitely take after you…” you laughed, making Scourge let out a low ‘tsk’, but settle beside you to sleep too, silently admitting that the girls had more in common with him than he could ever express.
younger musician!gf!reader x 2014!dilf!liam gallagher.
cw: age gap (25/42, about 17 years). younger!reader. invasive interviewer. some swearing from liam because of course! mentions of being naked but nothing crazy. pet names used. I think that's really it!
author's note: a little "lay it on me-verse" fic for you guys while I'm in the midst of writing a bit of semi-longer fic for the little verse. enjoy!
2014.
"now, if I'm getting my facts straight here, you seem to have caused a lot of buzz lately, not just with the fantastic music you've been putting out but there's been some murmurs of you being spotted with a certain someone." The interview host stated, his voice having some curiosity to it.
You furrowed your eyebrows, a confused state lingering, "oh, yeah? and who might that someone be?" You already knew the answer but you didn't want to cause any confirmation at the moment as things for you and this someone were going great, fantastic even!
you didn't want any privacy to be ruined for the time being.
"Oh, c'mon! Like you don't know, we know that you know." The interviewer was trying to get it all from you but you weren't going to budge.
"Know what, please tell me! I'd like to know what the buzz is all about surrounding me and this someone." You laughed, waiting patiently as to what the interviewer would say next.
"Augh, fine! It appears you've recently been spotted with musician: Liam Gallagher."
There it was, that name, that someone as the interviewer put it. Liam Gallagher. Liam was miles older than you, about 17 years older or so and yet? He was a good man, a decent one or at least a lot more progress had been made on himself since the wild oasis days.
When you began dating him, you mentioned that you wanted to keep things private for a while, at least until you were ready and he respected that completely because God knows if word got out then it would be complete chaos.
Even now, as you sat across from the interviewer, you knew that if you were to confirm anything between yourself and the older musician, people would talk and start a big fuss over the relationship between the two of you.
"Yes, and? We've been spotted, so?" You questioned.
"Well, people are having ideas over why you guys seem to appear together here and there, any elaboration on that?"
You shook your head, sighing out.
"There's really nothing to elaborate on, really. We've bumped into each other a few times and he's a pretty good man! I mean that. We've chatted a bit but it hasn't gone any further than what people are making it out to be. That's all."
"Really, nothing more to it then?" This interviewer still wouldn't stop trying to push your buttons but you weren't going to reveal anything to him.
"No, not much more. I will say though," You perked up from your chair just a bit, "If anything further were to happen, I'm sure it would be deemed 'too controversial' for the public to witness so, wouldn't want that would we?"
You were being cheeky, of course. You also weren't wrong, of course the public eye would begin speculation and call it a big controversy because what else would it be?
"Alright then, well! There you have it, guys, nothing more to it then. Thank you for being here with us and hopefully we'll be hearing more music from you soon." You and the man shook hands before you stood up, beginning to head out.
If only the public really knew the truth.
-
"And then he tried getting all these answers out of me regarding our relationship but, I wouldn't let him have it."
You were explaining to Liam what had gone down earlier today, what that interviewer was trying to get out of you all whilst you were both naked in bed, sheets wrapped around your bodies.
"Did ya confirm anything about us?" Liam questioned, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he waited for an answer.
"Of course note, Liam. You know I wouldn't." You told him softly.
"Good girl, they don't need to know fucking shite about our relationship."
As he said that, he moved his arm away from your shoulders as he went to grab a cigarette from the other side of him. You were already missing his touch even if he was just a bit of ways from you.
"I know, I know that! After all, I was the one who said we should have some privacy, at least for a little while."
Lifting your head away from the pillow behind, you looked his way, "I just want some good peace before chaos ensues. I know I'm in the public eye, I get that but, the calm before the storm would be nice."
Liam looked your way, a cigarette hanging from his mouth as he lit it. Soon after, he took a puff before speaking.
"And that's all it needs to be, sweetheart." He walked your way, going around the bed before standing in front of you, hand underneath your chin.
"That's all it needs to be, got it? Let them fucking wait, they should know better. For now, we can enjoy us." He leaned down, placing a kiss upon your forehead, "Take all the time you want us to have, alright?" You nodded, feeling his hand slip away before he went back on his usual side of the bed.
Just him and you, because like he said, that's all it needed to be. The world could wait just a tad longer.
end notes: and there you have it! another liom-verse fic down. this one was actually pretty nice to write and I enjoyed writing it. I hope you all enjoyed reading it andddd let me know your thoughts below! 💜
