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party-in-eldarya · 1 year

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I hope this is the last part of this episode (SPOILERS: not at all. Will try to do better next episode, because I think I lose interest, plot and lots of details playing this way.

OK, we are in the earth building, kitsunes attacked with (magical) archers, who managed to shoot arrows from ground to roof (90 floors, seems legit). Our group split, but we have found them. Koori is again in bad shape, Leiftan stays close to her because (sadly) Beemoov decided that she will be that one person who helps him heal. Oh well. Nevra's reaction to Erika, Edgar and Mathieu appearing:

Then... why didn't you send one of your team to let them know where you are? To check on them? Edgar didn't say anything, btw. Nevra intimidated him again. Erika takes hurt familiar (that dragon thing) to Koori because no, having your Gardienne in Absinth means nothing to Beemoov. She cannot do a thing with healing and potions. You know who can tho? Koori! Not only she is a healer adapt at potions and treating injuries, she also knows kitsune magic and illusions. You know Beemoov, I guess we could play ANE with Koori as our MC. Main quest would be claiming back our throne, and we would take what is ours. With fire and blood, we will take it. Ahem.

Lance shows how compasionate he is, by caring about familiar. It is not a bad trope, but when you know what will happen later, and knowing that neither Lance nor Nevra showed much care for Edgar, A LIVING THINKING PERSON is a bit... Miiko was also v sweet for familiars, but hostile towards Gardienne at the begining of TO. And yes, there are plp like them- but it is not a positive thing, and I would love ANE to address it, or stop wasting my maana on familiars. Edgar is much more interesting character than my familiar/dragon-thin will ever be. #teamcorcoforever

At least Koori is observant- she noticed that arrows are same as used in tenjin's army. Not that there was much options- at least I had not a feeling that many tribes live in Genkaku, but it's a nice touch. Anyway, Nevra managed to gather some infos with his vampiric powers:

Now, wouldn't it be better for you to gather on the roof and fly away on Lance's back? Perhaps later stay on a ship? Honestly, if I was a Tenjin, there would be no ship, I would burn it... Tenjin makes no sense here. Either wait 24 hours and no minute more- and THEN attack (because guards has broken their promise), or burn the bridges and the ship, murder guardsmen (or die trying to). The fact he is doing neither doesn't make sense. Anyway, Nevra decideds it's time to evacuate:

Blah blah, the rest is sleeping/resting. At least I learnt that Edgar has stayed here for one week (?). We are wasting maana on Erika playing with stapler (and why my autocorrect has written strap on I wonder), the writers of ANE are... something. This would be a perfect moment to add some ROMANCE- Erika fearing for Mathieu's and Nevra's safety, or wondering whether Leiftan is feeling ok now, or wondering that Lance has shown such care for a familiar. 2-4 sentences that could be a build up for an ending scene on ship. But no, waste it for nothing. Finally, after an hour Erika got bored and approach Lance, because I have no choice. There is not much choice in ANE, to be frank.

Because guardsmen arrows are different, they make the least possible damage to victim. FFS, it's again about familiar! You have a victim, a hurt, scared and confused HUMAN next to you! At least show him some care!

dammit. familiars again. so this will be a reccuring theme in ANE. Shortly: maripods, sersea and warrifangs are acting much more aggressively than usual.

"Am I joke to you?"

Now, that would be interesting. If the faeries would also act strangely. The pressure to find sollution or cure, before our friend turn rabid...

Lance has his Disney Princess moment, with that famliar suddenly trusting him and cuddling. I guess it's cute? Dunno, we are in rollercoaster between v childlish moments and people dying like flies so. It's hard for me to switch my mood so quickly. But look, we have a chance to make our LOM higher. I do not care for Lance, but you know. He seems ok here so:

Erika got another superpower to collection: she can now sense familiars emotions. Kinda. Pity, it didn't work on Mathieu... but I digress. A hint on how she is a part of Eldarya's spirit now? With all that "I have more connection to Eldarya than to Earth" and her being part of Crystal? A final sacrifice at the end of ANE in making?

Anyway, Erika admits to Lance:

He doesn't like this idea:

Shut the fuk up, Mr 5% on LoM. Leiftan is a good boy. A good, troubled, murderous boy. Also, Edgar should have lived. We could see him growing to love Eldarya.

again on familiars...

ahem. Anyway, once again, everybody: ELDARYA GOOD. EARTH BAD.

And why do plp keep cats, mices, dogs? For emotional support, Erika admits. So far she didn't make familiars very much different from our animals. She could just say that familiars are very inteligent, and that some of them have special, magical powers. Erika is v bad with any explanations, and this scene works only because Edgar is v sweet here, being interested in Eldarya, and even slowly accepting his fate. BTW, 100+ maana, and Leiftan, my LI is mentioned ONCE- that he is still in the same room.

Enough with familiars, Nevra and Mathieu are gone for 2 hours and the rest talk about it. We got this little info about Nevra (for anyone who didn't know him in TO it's a good information, and nicely written, you can get what kind of person he is now):

Wait, what, Edgar? It was too zen for me. Aaaah, in the hall it's too dark to notice the daylight dying. They decided to follow Mathieu and Nevra and try to get out from building: the deadline given by Tenjin is almost out. BTW, Beemoov again decided to give that draflayel 4 lines of dialogue.

We meet Nevra and Mathieu at the hall. They have fought earlier, but I have reached limits of screenshots for this post so this is the end.

Thoughts on this episode?

Too much time spent on familiar, while we left Edgar or even Koori forgotten. Too little time spent with our LI. So far the action parts are v chaotic. The mission/science is very vague, childlish. It's how a person who doesn't know a thing about diplomacy and military imagine war plans are made and prepared.

Erika's feelings for Eldarya seems superficial: she is excited when seeing or petting cute familiars, but she is not v eager to get to know kitsunes or their culture. Pretty clothes, "adventure", thinking about cool war cry, saving pretty princess? Yes, but wondering how they can solve their diplomatic crisis with whole kingdom of Genkaku is not crucial for her. I really have a feeling like I am reading a story about 13 years old girl, not an adult, responsible and wise woman who is capable of taking care of two worlds.

#playing ane what a joy #ANE spoilers

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bp-best-froggo · 2 years

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Arknights blorbos!

YES, alright, most of these are probably not going to be surprising, but anyway:

blorbo: Texas

This lupo has moved into my head and is living there rent free ever since. There's just so much about her that I find so intruiging. We have no real clue what had happened to the Texas' family. Siracusa is largely unexplored territory. How does she even relate to Lappland? If she's from Siracusa, why does her file state Columbia as her origin? I dunno man but I wanna know! I need to know!!!

There's this ominous phrase in her file: "When the past does catch up to her, she will face it was composure--unless it disrupts her present, then we'll witness the genuine rage inside her." And I could talk at length about this line alone, but I'm gonna stop myself short here, because this post won't end otherwise.

scrunkly: Blue Poison

The Frog. The Queen. The precious one. Her smile warms my heart. Her presence is comforting like the blankets she wraps around my shoulders. Her sweetness is joyous like the cakes she bakes. I would offer her all the hugs she could ever wish for. And I would hold her hand, until she found the confidence to move on her own.

Best froggo. 12/10, would poison again. Also best sniper in the game.

scrimblo bimblo: Absinthe

I have a habit of adopting traumatized children as daughters, and like, Absinthe has seen some shit - which is, to be fair, something you could say for every Ursus student. Absinthe is special to me, because I feel like there's much of a story to tell, aside from what we've seen in Children of Ursus (her chapter in the event felt more like an introduction to her character).

She has been forced to grow up in a span of only a few days, had to quite literally pick up her dead father's weapon and chose to also inherit his belief in justice, which she struggles with quite a lot. Justice is a concept that's pretty interesting to me and one that also fits Arknights themes very well.

Despite all that I feel like she gets barely discussed, despite all the potential this would have in relation to other operators (W, for example). Funnily enough she's also my most used Caster. I love the sound her weapon makes when being fired.

glup shitto: Leizi

She's just pure comedy. Like imagine a supreme court judge joining a para-military cancer relief foundation for shits and giggles. Imagine the entire HR staff completely stressed out and panicing, because they know that she could quite literally make Rhodes Island an enemy of Yen by the wave of a hand - and the Doctor just let her in, no questions asked. Meanwhile, said court judge gets into petty arguments with engineers and technicians because she throws off their radars and sensors just by being physically close to them. Magnets keep sticking to her.

Technically - not a side character, she's an operator and all. But I'm not even sure she got mentioned in any parts of the story up until this point. So I say that counts until I am proven wrong because I probably forgot about some scene in chapter 3 or something

poor little meow meow: Robin

Uhhh, not sure if that counts. I don't think she's really controversial or anything, she's just kind of messed up for the lengths she goes to earn money. I mean, she was kind-of a bad guy in Mansfield Break, even almost betraying Tony the Tiger for her own gains. She has reasons for doing so of course, but like you gotta be pretty desperate to take on five part-time jobs and also do contract murders on the side (I don't know if she has five part-time jobs, but she sure looks like she does).

If anything she looks tired as hell and desperately needs sleep. Poor little racoon.

horse plinko: Whislash

- is a horse - is a silly pony - belongs either into the plinko or into horny jail = horse plinko

eeby deeby: Surtr

She would be comfy there.

refuses to elaborate further

leaves

#thx for the ask!#arknights #texas #blue poison #best froggo #absinthe #leizi #robin #whislash #surtr #bugzapper #silly pony

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sequinsmile-x · 3 years

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His Girls

For my dear friend @sweetsecretskeptinside , who loves the idea of Aaron being a girl dad probably more than I do. Part of the Full House series Rating: Mature (for the tiniest bit of spice, but mostly because Emily has a potty mouth)

Trigger Warning: mentions of people throwing up/being sick Read over on a03, or below the cut

“I should cancel.” She says, nervously biting her lip as she readjusted their daughter on her hip. “I don’t think it’s a good idea if I go.”

Ivy was unwell, a cold making their usually happy baby very cranky. Emily was standing by their front door, dressed in a knee length red dress, her hair curled to perfection and her make up painstakingly applied. She looked beautiful, as she always did, but on edge. She had Ivy curled in her arms, the 9 month old practically trying to crawl under her skin as she clambered to get impossibly closer to her mother.

Aaron was usually the favourite, the one Ivy would seek out at any given moment, but as soon as she was sick she was all about Emily. Demanding her mother’s embrace and attention.

“Em, love, it’s your bachelorette party.” He says, trying to reason with her. “If you don’t go it’s kind of pointless.”

“But she’s sick.” Emily rocks Ivy, gently patting her back at the same time to try and soothe the rattle in her chest. Each cough that came from her daughter made Emily’s heart constrict. “She needs me.”

Aaron closes the gap between them then pulls his fiancee and daughter into his arms. “She does, but I’ll be here.” He soothes, pressing a kiss to Emily’s temple. “And you need to go out with your friends, when was the last time you did that?”

He knew the answer was long before Ivy was born, her reluctance to go to bars with Penelope and JJ whilst pregnant born out of being the designated driver, and having to ignore many questions about her sex life with Aaron. He still remembers her coming home one night when she was 5 months pregnant, frustrated to the point of tears over how different things were.

He also knew that some of her hesitance to go out now was that this was the first time she was willingly spending a night away from their daughter. Emily had gone back to work months ago, when Ivy was 4 months old, so had been away on several cases since then, but she’d turned down many requests from Penelope for girls' nights in the interim. Wanting to spend as much time with Ivy as she could when she didn’t need to be away.

Aaron loves her for it, how much she adores their daughter. She was exactly the mother he always knew she would be, the one he assured her she was when she struggled to believe she could do it during her pregnancy and the hard early days of motherhood. But he knew she needed some of her old self back, to remind herself of who she was outside of the BAU and their home. So despite how much he selfishly wanted her to stay home, how he knew Ivy would settle easier with her there, and how he struggled to sleep without Emily next to him, he was encouraging her to go out.

Emily sighs. “A long time ago.” She runs her hand up and down Ivy’s back again, who now had her face pressed into Emily’s neck.

“We’ll be fine here.” Aaron says, gently easing the baby into his own arms. “She’ll go to sleep soon anyway, and then Jack and I will watch a movie.”

Her hands twitch to reach out for Ivy when the little girl starts to cry again, but the doorbell rings before she can talk anymore about cancelling her night out. Emily sighs as she turns to open the door, a fake smile plastered on her face as Penelope enthusiastically greets her, pulling her into a hug.

Ivy cries, drawing the attention back to her. Emily is by Aaron’s side immediately, her hand on her daughter's back. She kisses her hair, soothing her with gentle words.

Aaron and Penelope exchange a quick look whilst Emily kisses the back of Ivy’s head, and an understanding passes between them before Emily can change her mind again about going out.

“Come on.” Penelope says as she links her arm through Emily’s. “The bride-to-be can’t be late to her own bachelorette party.” She tugs Emily towards the door, not really giving her any choice in the matter. “Your adorable mini-me will still be here when you get back.”

Emily throws Aaron a smile over her shoulder as she leaves, watches as he gently bounces a still cranky Ivy. “Call me if you need me to come home.”

“Have fun, sweetheart.” He says as the door closes behind them, unable to resist smiling when he could still hear Penelope’s enthusiastic voice as they walked away from the house. He looks down to Ivy in his arms, and rubs her back when she coughs again. “Why don’t we go see what your brother is up to?”

Ivy promptly throws up on him and he sighs.

It was going to be a long night. ______________________

Aaron is surprised when JJ brings Emily home only three hours later. When he opens the front door and sees her leaning against their friend, a giggle on her lips and a very hazy look in her eyes, he realises this might be the drunkest he’s ever seen her.

“Is she ok?” He asks, not quite covering the panic in his voice as he takes her from JJ, who made sure Emily was fully leaning against him before she let go.

“She got really drunk, really fast.” JJ explains, a sheepish look on her face. “The same thing happened to me my first night out after I had Henry.”

Realisation dawns on him, a memory of Haley getting absolutely wasted her first night out with her friends after she had Jack. Her tolerance changed, but her expectations of her ability to drink wine like it was going out of fashion remained the same.

Emily could drink like no one he had ever met. He attributed it to her growing up in Europe. Wine and hard liquor were her drinks of choice as a teenager, as opposed to the wine coolers and beer she was more likely to have drunk if she had been in the US. He could smell absinthe on her breath, and he wondered if they’d even bothered to eat anything before they went straight into the heavy drinking.

“Thanks for bringing her home, JJ.”

JJ nods at him, and mercifully ignores it when Emily clearly palms the front of his jeans. She always had been a handsy drunk. He thanks JJ again before closing the door, and he thinks logistically about how he was going to get Emily upstairs.

“You’re very handsome.” She slurs into his cheek, hand moving round to his back pocket, slipping in and grabbing a handful of his ass. “So pretty.”

Aaron stifles a laugh, knowing when he tells her about this in the morning she’ll be embarrassed. “Ok, sweetheart.”

She somehow stumbles on the spot and he knows he has no choice but to carry her. He wraps an arm around her back and places one under her thighs, lifting her into his arms. As soon as she is leaning against his chest she loops an arm around his neck, sleepiness taking her almost instantly.

He gets her into bed managing to change her into one of his t-shirts and get her shoes off, tucking her in. When he gets in next to her she rolls towards the edge of the bed. “Need to check on Ivy.”

“Not now, sweetheart.” He laughs pulling her back towards him. “She’s sleeping, just like need to.”

“I need you.”

He kisses the top of her head. “I’m right here.” ______________________

He suddenly wakes up at 1.30am and at first he’s not sure what’s woken him. Aaron sits up in bed and quickly realises it’s empty next to him. He hears retching coming from the ensuite and is out of bed quickly.

He finds her kneeling on the bathroom floor, just flushing the toilet as she sits back, groaning as she turns back to look at him. He sits on the floor behind her and rubs her back. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“I used to be able to drink more than this.” She laments, all but crawling the small distance from where she’d been laying on the bathroom floor into his lap, curling up into him like a cat. “I cannot remember the last time I got sick. I think I was a teenager.”

Aaron smiled to himself as he stroked her hair. She wasn’t wrong, she could usually drink the entire BAU under the table. Derek never learnt, always daring her to drinking challenges he would inevitably lose. The worst Emily ever got was a hangover, a headache that made her head feel like it was going to explode as she begged him to stay in bed with her. He’d never seen her get sick with it before.

“Sweetheart, you had a baby 9 months ago. And you only just stopped nursing her. Your tolerance has probably changed.”

She groans and presses her face into his thigh, curling tighter into his lap. “So what you’re saying is this is our sweet little girl's fault?”

He laughs at that. “No, what I’m saying is that you probably shouldn’t have gone straight for the absinthe.”

He feels her gag at the mention of alcohol and stops himself from laughing, knowing she would kill him for it even in her inebriated state. “Hindsight is a wonderful thing, Aaron.”

Aaron is about to ask her if she is fine to go back to bed when she wrenches herself from his lap, head bent over the toilet bowl again as she throws up again. He holds her hair with one hand and gently rubs her back between her shoulders. “You’re okay, Em.”

She groans, pulling back and leaning against him.

“You done?” He asks gently, hand still rubbing circles on her back. Her answer is a nod, and he flushes the toilet. He gets on his knees to reach for a washcloth off the counter, and he runs it under the tap before sitting back down next to her.

She apologises again as he washes her face gently with a washcloth, wiping away tears and vomit as she murmurs threats towards Penelope that he knows she would never carry out.

“You’re ok, love.” He soothes, pulling her hair back into a ponytail with a hair tie he had found on the floor.

“I’m a mess.” She laments, leaning against him. “I don’t know why you want to marry me.”

“Because I treasure you.” He replies, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Besides this isn’t that different from when you were pregnant with Ivy, except this time I can make it better.”

“You make everything better.” She mumbles into his neck, finally sounding sleepy. Aaron smiles and kisses the top of her head.

“Do you think you can make it to bed?”

She shakes her head against him. “No.” She swallows, grimacing at the taste in her mouth. “You can go though.”

He scoffs. “Like I’m going to leave you on the bathroom floor alone.” Aaron kisses her forehead. “I’ll be right back.” He leaves the bathroom and grabs a couple of pillows from their bed as well as the comforter.

He sits back down on the floor, and settles with his back to the bath, a pillow between him and the hard surface. He pulls her to his side so she can lay on him, a pillow on his thigh for her to rest her head on. When she’s settled against him he places the comforter over her.

“I’m sorry.” She apologies again, words slurring due to her sleepy state and the alcohol in her system.

“Stop apologising.” He replies, cupping the back of her head. “I love you, part of that is looking after you when you’re sick.”

“Even when it’s self-inflicted?”

“Especially then.” He soothes. “It’s just another way you and Ivy are similar.” He jokes. “I’ve had both of you throw up on me tonight.”

She lifts her head, too quickly if the groan that followed was any indication, and looks at him with concern laced through her features. “She was sick? You should have called.”

“Em.” He placates, lowering her head back down into his lap, scratching his blunt fingernails over her scalp. “She is fine, she just coughed a little too much that's all. It was only once.” He continues the way he’s scratching her head, knowing it never fails to lull her to sleep. “Now try and get some rest, baby. I’ll be here if you need me.”

She sleeps for two hours against him, and when it becomes clear she will sleep through what is left of the night he gently removes himself from under her. Despite a slight protest in his back he picks her up off the floor, gathering her into his arms so he can settle her into their bed. She doesn’t wake at all, a true sign of just how much she must have drunk. He places the comforter back over her and puts an empty trash can on the floor on her side of the bed.

Aaron slips into bed next to her and falls asleep as quickly, the warmth of her body providing comfort he could never find elsewhere. ______________________

Emily wakes up in the morning feeling awful. Aaron is not in bed next to her, but there is a glass of water on the nightstand along with some painkillers. She quickly takes them, carefully sipping the water as she does so, her stomach still unsettled.

She gets in the shower, washes away the lingering stench of liquor she swears she can smell on her skin. And she brushes her teeth to get rid of the awful taste in her mouth.

When she gets downstairs no one is in the house. She grabs her cell phone off of the kitchen counter, not even sure how it got there in the first place, and is about to call Aaron when the front door opens.

Aaron walks in, Ivy’s car seat in one hand and a McDonald’s bag in the other. Jack walks in right behind him, another McDonald's bag in his hands and a big smile on his face. As the smell of greasy food gets to her nose she doesn’t think she has ever loved her fiance more.

“You, Aaron Hotchner, are a GOD.” She kisses him before taking the baby carrier from his hand, leaving it to him to sort out whatever food he’d bought. Emily smiles at Ivy as she lifts her out. “Hi sweet girl. I missed you last night.” Ivy coughs against her and Emily frowns at the pitiful sound that comes out of her. “Oh, baby.”

“Em.”

She turns to look at Aaron and can’t help the laugh that escapes her when she sees the pile of hash browns he has bought.

“I love you so much.” She says as she reaches for one. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Me or the hashbrowns?” He quips, a wide smile on his face.

Emily bites into the food in question and groans. “It’s about 50/50 right now I’m not going to lie, honey.” ______________________

Ivy cries throughout their entire wedding ceremony. The little girl reaching for her father from Derek’s arms, clearly feeling as if she was missing out on something.

Aaron looks up at his bride, once again taken aback by how beautiful she looked. She gives him a quick nod before looking down to Jack who was standing by Aaron’s side, and she gives the young boy a wink.

Aaron walks over to the front row and takes Ivy from Derek, her tears clearing up almost instantly when she is in her fathers arms. He goes back to the front, apologising to the officiant before looking back at Emily.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Emily whispers to Ivy. “Didn’t want to miss out on the fun, huh?”

They smile widely at each other when they are told they are man and wife, and she leans forward and kisses him, laughing against his lips when Ivy grabs at her. Tiny fingers digging into the lace of her dress at her shoulder. Emily pulls back from her husband and beams at her daughter, taking her into her own arms. She rests Ivy on her hip and kisses Aaron again.

He places his hand on Emily’s cheek, holds her in place despite the good natured jeering from their guests. When he pulls back he keeps his hand on her face, thumb skimming over her cheek bone. He smiles as he looks at them both together, Ivy resting her head on Emily’s shoulder. He wraps his arm around Jack's shoulder and pulls him towards him, and with his whole family within reach he doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. ______________________

Once the festivities at Dave’s have ended they go back to their own house. Jack and Ivy fast asleep by the time they get home, the long day having taken it out of them. Aaron carries in Jack, and Emily takes Ivy, whispering to him that she’d meet him in their room once they’d settled the kids down.

Aaron pulls Jack’s bedroom door closed behind him and smiles when he sees light still filtering out from under the door to Ivy’s nursery. He walks in and his smile widens when he sees Emily pacing the room, still in her wedding dress, their daughter fast asleep in her arms as she speaks to her in both English and French.

“My girls.” He whispers, and it draws Emily’s attention to him, a beautiful smile on her face and a flush to her cheeks as she sees him.

“She started to wake up when I went to put her down.” Emily explains, tilting her head back to look at the baby against her chest. “Although she seems to be out now.”

“I’ll take her.” He says, reaching his arms out and gently taking Ivy, both relieved when she stays asleep. “You go to bed, love. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay.” She kisses Ivy’s head. “Goodnight, baby.” ______________________

He helps her unbutton her dress, the tiny buttons down her back almost too small for his hands to undo. She sighs as his hand traces up her spine, loosening the dress over her shoulders. Aaron doesn’t miss how she yawns as she steps out of it, the lingerie underneath the dress briefly distracting him.

She leans back into him, smiling as he wraps his arms around her. “Hi, husband.”

Aaron kisses her temple, his smile wide against her skin. “Hi, wife.” He’s about to trail his hand down her belly, run his fingers over the lace of what she is wearing, but she yawns again and his decision is made.

He shrugs off his jacket and then his shirt, settling the shirt over her shoulders. He turns her around and does up a couple of the buttons before kissing her. When he pulls back he rests his forehead against hers. “Let's get into bed.”

Emily climbs into bed and he follows after stripping off the rest of his clothes. Aaron pulls her towards him, settling her tightly against him.

“Shouldn’t we fuck or something?” She asks, pressing her face into his neck. “It is our wedding night.”

Aaron laughs and grabs her leg, resting it over his waist. He runs his fingers up and down her thigh. “You’re tired, Em. It’s been a long day and you need sleep. We have forever for everything else.”

She hums, sleep already overtaking her. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He kisses her forehead, and gives the only answer he has for her. “You’re you.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfiction #sickfic #domestic fluff #i just love them happy #so here is something where they are happy #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #likes its so fluffy

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bvccy · 3 years

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Nothing to Despair | Preview 1 / Work In Progress

PAIRING: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before are asked, because of their language skills, to go undercover as married on a two-week mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, and notices his partner feels similarly isolated. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily persuaded.

RATING: it's pretty naughty but there's no bad words so Idk

WARNINGS: None, just softness and kissings and the hint of unrequited love

WORD COUNT: 2K

A/N: I'm currently working on something new, and as it might be a W H I L E until it's ready to post, I thought I'd share a snippet to tide you over. Now, the rest of it is only partly done, but I’ll just say I made myself cry while writing it. You’re all going to suffer, it’s gonna be GREAT. It starts soft and angsty but it will get very dark and smutty. On that note, do let me know if you’d like to be tagged once the full thing is published. It’s gonna be also on AO3 anyway.

Enjoy! :D

While he waited in his room for her to finish getting dressed, he was actually grateful to see Steve had texted him. Bucky read the message in passing then called without thinking.

"Hey, bud." came Steve's voice, happy but surprised and sounding just a bit tired. "Was afraid I wouldn't catch you in time."

"Hi, no, we were just about to go out."

"You ok? Sound a bit—"

"Everything's fine, Stevie, don't worry. So what's this club you mentioned?"

"Wanted to let you know about a little place SHIELD found out about. A few of your favorite people been making appearances, thought you'd be interested."

"Is that right… Where is it?"

"Not far from the hotel, I'll give you the address."

They sat through the first portion of presentations in a shared silence that was common but heavier than usual. She was as effortlessly nice to him as before any of their little fights, but distant, always distant underneath the smooth pleasantries.

They went for the lunch break with everyone else, and with every opportunity, Bucky kept his eyes on Hamelin. He was talking with the lady from Spain again and sitting more closely than usual. He'd seen him have lunch with a few of the other attendees as well, but she seemed to be his most frequent companion.

As they were about to part, Hamelin passed her a note so surreptitiously as to seem a handshake, but Bucky noticed. They left together, and as they passed the great big doors of the restaurant, Hamelin went in the usual direction of the auditorium, while the woman went a different way. From Steve's call that morning, Bucky had an idea of where that might be, and knew better than to miss the opportunity.

The girl was just finishing her meal, sitting in silence across from him. He thought about tailing the lady on his own, but the idea of leaving his partner in the same room as Hamelin, even with all the other conference goers, didn't sit well with Bucky. He paid for lunch, and as they walked out together he led them toward the lobby.

"A little side-trip." he smiled at her confusion. She wasn't surprised by that anymore, and went along as always.

"What is this?" she asked as they approached a decrepit looking building, not a ten minute walk from the hotel. It looked utterly uninhabited, but a lit stairway leading down betrayed its use.

"Just checking something out." he said as he led them onward, one arm secured on the small of her back.

They went through a rusty looking door at the bottom of the stairway, a squeak announcing them to a few shadowy figures ahead. People looked at them then turned away in disinterest, minding their own business. The faint sound of jazz floated through the corridor, and red lights lit the way forward.

They arrived inside what was a sort of dance-club, mellow and warm and smoky. A few patrons gathered around old wooden tables, some sitting at a dirty wet bar; a pianist and singer performed slowly on the small stage up front.

Bucky scanned the place, not seeing anything suspicious yet, if you didn't count the clandestine nature of the whole thing. Heavy red curtains decorated the walls, and beyond some he could just about see doorways. He held the girl closer to himself, just in case, and heard her wince in disgust as she spotted some of the couples grinding against each other in the dark.

"What are we doing here?" she whispered into his shoulder.

"Just stick close to me, honey." he smiled down at her, pulling her more possessively to him.

He led them to one of the empty tables in a red-cushioned alcove, stained with alcohol sprinklings and cigarette ash, from where he could easily watch the entrance.

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks. Will you be ok here a minute?" he asked as she sat down and took her jacket off.

"Yes, yes." she sighed.

"Ok…" Bucky smiled, and right before he left remembered to ask "By the way, what would you like?"

She thought for a second, and decided "Absinthe, please."

"Bit strong for you, isn't it?"

"I'll need a good disinfectant for this place." she smirked.

Bucky grinned, then went to the bar.

He was back soon enough with drinks for the both of them, and sat beside her to scan the place. He held her close to him, one arm flung around her shoulder, the other resting on his glass of gin. Nobody bothered or approached them, or even looked their way much; discretion seemed to be the rule of the place.

The girl sipped her drink, melting slowly into his side as it soothed her nerves, though she still regretted it every time she looked up and saw something she didn't like.

They were there for a quarter of an hour before sharp footsteps echoed from somewhere to the left, almost unnoticeable underneath the music. Bucky followed the sound to one of the far walls, and sure enough a figure passed through the curtains, almost as if materialising from the dark. It was the Spanish lady, looking rather nervous and out of place as she walked with another man who was older and broader, with a professional look to him. He led her out, and several minutes later came back to disappear the way he'd come, through the curtains.

The girl noticed it too, and looked up at Bucky suspiciously. Catching her gaze, he shrugged with a smile and instantly she knew they had work to do.

He led them across the room, toward the walls, walking along inconspicuously as they made for the entrance they'd seen. The heavy material parted for them to reveal a hallway, dark and very cold and even more poorly lit than the bar. Trash littered the corners and broken old furniture was piled up in places, waiting to be thrown away.

Wordlessly, the couple walked through hand-in-hand. They reached far enough away that the sound of music faded, where bits of graffiti, partially covered or scraped off, decorated the walls under the flickering lights. Some drunk was passed out on the floor, his legs sprawled across the way. Bucky and the girl stepped over him and went on, and met another pair a bit further, cuddled together on the ground as they fiddled with a package between them.

Finally, they reached a corner the led on to a more well lit path. Bucky and the girl looked at each other and quietly agreed to go on together. They didn't make it a few feet until he stopped her, Bucky just barely making out some voices through the walls. Three men, by the sound of it, speaking in Russian. They talked about payment, one week or two, verification, doubts, and counter-offers.

When Bucky heard their voices draw further, then closer again, he started moving the girl back and going the way they came. The men were coming out, and were bound to find them.

She didn't seem too frightened, following his lead obediently, and that gave him a bit of courage to try and find out more. Stepping past the dizzy drunks and vagrants, Bucky stopped them both in the middle of the hallway.

"They're going to see us." she whispered with worry.

"I know, but we gotta get into their office." he said, looking at the far end of the hall. The men should come through any second.

"But if they catch us…"

"They're not gonna catch us, doll." Bucky pulled her closer as he stuck his back to the wall, his metal arm covering the length of her spine securely, black glove holding the back of her neck.

They both looked with concern at the shadows lengthening around the corner, and in a heartbeat Bucky made his decision.

"Kiss me." he whispered, turning his burning gaze down toward her.

"What?"

"Come on, kiss me."

"I can't." she choked, looking up pleadingly into his eyes. "I can't, I can't…"

Just as the far off voices announced the near arrival of the men, Bucky took her face gently in his hand and pulled it up to him, turning it just slightly enough that his lips caressed the corner of her mouth. From the side, it looked good enough to pass for the real thing. His other hand went to her leg and hooked it up around him, fingers curled around her thigh and caressing its inside from underneath, raising her skirt enough to flash the red lace trimming of her slip, the edge of her stocking, and those naughty black garters.

She gripped his lapels to hold on, fearful but tight enough to seem passionate, and she pressed herself against him. She closed her eyes tightly, and even in the shadow of all the other feelings — more erotic, more sensual, frantic — Bucky most of all relished the gentle tickle of her lashes against his cheek.

He held on to her and she to him, shocked under his kiss — that wasn't a full kiss, as much as he could make it, and she was grateful to him for at least that. She grounded herself on the hard planes of his body, broad and heavy as a wall but radiating with a furnace-like heat against her chest and stomach and all the way down between her legs. His mouth caressed the side of hers in tender waves, warm and damp and surprisingly soft, while the tips of his fingers stroked the inside of her leg.

Her hands let go of his lapel for the second it took to grip onto his shoulders, pulling herself even closer and hiding in his body as the men passed them by. Bucky held her tighter and tilted his head just enough to look through the corner of his eye at the back of them, while his fingers caressed her skin with a mind of their own. The men were far enough away and soon were out of sight, going through the curtain and out into the jazz club. He closed his eyes and swallowed a moan, in disbelief at just how hot and soft her thigh could be, and as his fingers crawled upward toward an even deeper warmth, Bucky felt her tense and tremble, and he let her go.

Her leg slinked its way back to the ground while he lifted his lips from her, and as they slowly let each other go they were hit again by the coolth of the corridor. Bucky steadied her, and himself, with a hand on her shoulder, and searched her blushing and avoidant face.

"You good, doll?" he rasped, feeling as winded as she looked.

"Yeah…" she gasped into his chest. Above and unseen by her, he licked the remnants of her taste from his lips and swallowed greedily, while the girl brushed a dry hand across her mouth to wipe him away. "Let's hurry, before they come back."

It was an easy enough job for Bucky to break into their office, though he took his time to pick the lock as quietly as possible and mindful of any alarm triggers.

He gave her one of the two small flashlights he carried in his pocket, and they started looking through the messy old place, sifting through files and folders and open drawers. None of it felt right, those didn't seem like the sort of guys to leave stuff just lying around. And sure enough, inside a stocky wooden dresser, nailed into the bottom of it, was a compact safe. Bucky called the girl over, and she held a light for him while he looked it over.

It had a number of dials and buttons, and the metal didn't seem so thick that he couldn't break it open, but he didn't want to be too obvious about their intrusion. Bucky felt around the edges of the box, and considered picking it open before he noticed an even safer entry point.

He looked at the girl with a cocky smile, and she raised a brow at him.

"Another shoe?"

"Hairpin this time, darlin'."

She sighed and pulled one from her hair. Carefully, Bucky stretched and twisted it into an L shape, then pushed it through a small hole in the corner of the box while he kept pressure on the dial that opened it. He didn't have to twist it around much until the lock was opened from inside. With no risk of picks scratching or breaking the keyway, there would be no hint it was ever opened.

"You know, if we decided on a career as burglars, we could live like kings." she whispered with amusement.

"Don't temp me." Bucky grinned.

He sifted through the safe's contents, pulling out folders and stacks of cash in various currencies. The papers were in multiple languages, including the local one, but they didn't have time to go through it all. They decided to risk it and take the folders with them, which Bucky hid at his back, beneath the jacket. It wasn't until they were back out into the club that the girl remembered she'd left hers behind.

They went back to their seats but couldn't find it anymore, and the bartender said he hadn't noticed anything. It didn't have pockets nor any identifiable mark, so they weren't too worried about its loss. They gave up on it quickly and went back to the hotel.

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biggaybunny · 3 years

Note

Hoshiguma, Che'en, Tomimi, Gavial, Kal'tsit, W, Carnelian, Absinthe, Asbestos, Exusiai, Siege, the Nearls, Eunectes, Saria, Mudrock

Alright here we goes *breaks fingers*

She's big and strong, gentle and well-spoken, loyal and introspective. She's an incredible character and an incredible woman and a woman in leather makes me weak.

She's edgy, but I love a woman who can kill me a thousand different ways. Points taken off for her having way too much of a hard-on for self-sacrifice and lone wolfing it, but she's still very pretty and rocks the office casual look (yknow, not counting the hotpants).

TAILSLUT HOT

She flew under my radar for the longest time but honestly she's gorgeous, she's unreasonably strong, she's got a hot tail and sharp teeth, and she looks fate in the eye and then punches it in the teeth. What more could you ask for in a woman?

You know what I love? A woman who absolutely hates me. I also love an ethically dubious milf. Points taken off for not understanding how amnesia works, and more points taken off for acting like she's got a moral high ground while she machinates and lies to us. Points added back on for probably being some kind of timeless abomination masquerading as a catmilf.

She's wicked, she's a genius, she understands how amnesia works, and she's basically a demon lady. I like her attitude and her smile. Points taken off for shopping at hot topic despite being like, thirty-three. How did she even find anything in her size?

GOD I love the sexy scientist look. The giant horns. That absurd thigh of straps. In terms of per physical looks she's a 10/10. I know nothing about her personality, but her gaze is smoldering. Given most characters are getting points off for their personalities, maybe that's the reason she gets top rating =:V.

Absinthe: Absinthe is my daughter what is she doing on this list all of you staring at her chest are going to get sent to your own personal Brazil Chernobog.

She practically deserves her own tier, I almost went back and moved everyone else down a tier once I reached her. She's so fucking sexy. She's a bastard. Like, people think "bastard" is a gendered term, but she isn't a bitch. She's a bastard, and I mean that affectionately. She's antisocial. She's fit. She's lanky. She modified a door into a shield instead of modifying a shield into a shield. She has oripathy and was too chad to be affected by this. She doesn't know how to talk to people. She's the most lesbian lizard on the planet. She's a stud and I want her to walk over me with her size 13 combat boots.

Moderately-unhinged tomboy angel is cute, I bet she gives good hugs. She's too high energy for me but I recognize a cutie when I see one.

She comes off kinda young for me. I dunno. I just also don't really go for the whole "princess in exile" thing. Like she's just giving off "look how regal I still am even now" vibes. Like, okay blueblood, we get it, you had a posture coach. The fact that specific individuals are capable of being good people and good leaders does not justify monarchy as a system of government.

I like that she's got a passion for mechanics and she is, genuinely, very pretty and a very good girlfriend for Platinum, but her naivety and need to follow in her sis's footsteps don't really endear her to me.

She's clever and ambitious and takes care of her family, and I really appreciate her owning her sexuality like she does (read: slutting it up good) but at the end of the day, she's still a horse.

Margaret Nearl's dick is bigger than yours. Think of the biggest dick you've ever seen. Margaret Nearl's dick is bigger than that. One time the sun decided to shine so Nearl went "hey sun how big is your dick again?" and the sun cut that shit OUT. The only reason Reunion still exists is because Margaret Nearl has to spend at least sixteen hours a day fucking her two wives, and a knight like her knows the importance of getting eight hours of sleep. Points taken off for still being a horse, but added back on for being Margaret "Fucks Your Wife" Nearl.

GOD that tail. That tail drives me to poetry. AND she's an engineer. Her passion for knowledge and for her work is so sexy. And she prefers to be mostly-naked for no good reason. Short, brown hair on nerdy girls is my weakness too, and she counts as a nerd even if she CAN kick my ass by thinking about it >///>

Insanely powerful women are hot. Insanely powerful women who choose to be protectors even if they have to keep their destructive potential under control to do so are even hotter. Plus there's just something about the sternness in her gaze that makes me want to say "yes ma'am". Her horns are hot too.

Have you noticed a trend with me yet? Have you figured it out yet? WOMAN BIG. WOMAN PROTEC. Most importantly, WOMAN HAVE HORN. She's also gentle and creative and (in every good fan interpretation anyway) built like a brick factory.

#arknights #lotsa text #ask meme #kaia if you weren't a beloved friend #this was SO MANY

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theredconversegirl · 4 years

Note

Hello! Can you recommend any angsty sasusaku one shots or fics that end in fluff or smut? :)

Hi nonny :) Thanks for stopping by!

First of all, sorry for the wait. It took me awhile to go through my ffnet and ao3 fave lists and confirm if the fic did have a happy ending at least. Some here will end with fluff, some with smut, and some will be more subtle but still soft and happy.

So, I’m calling this list:

Angst with a Happy Ending 🍅🌸

My go to story when I’m in this mood is Heartbeat by letmeannoyyoutoday, which I have recommended here before. It’s long and detailed, and it will make you cry before it will make you smile ;)

Now, let’s get started:

A Blue Bathed Litany By: Elegies for Shiva  / @elegiesforshiva

Bad dreams are nothing new for any shinobi. But being comforted is, especially in a fashion as sensual as this. Angst. Fluff. Lots of lemons. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

A Highly Contested Topic By: Annie Sparklecakes

SasuSaku. He's not lonely, he says, Because he has her. In which Sakura desperately tries to form a bond, and Sasuke grows more and more attached by the day. He won't admit it, but the truth doesn't lie. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Ambrosia By: refracted

Dark/AU. In the morning, when all the pretense has dissolved and they have finished the deeds that will become the death of them, he pretends he is asleep when he hears her sob. She breaks too beautifully, he believes. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Being with you By: La coccinelle bleue

At that moment, he could recall comparing her, and her presence, to the smell of fresh paint. [Rated K+, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Blood for Blood By: SouthSideStory  / @southsidestory

It's vengeance that drove Sasuke away from Konoha, and vengeance that brings him back. Staying, though, is a different matter entirely, and it's only Sakura that could give him a home. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

breaking the habit By: the blanket

I'm scared as hell to want you, but here I am, wanting you anyway. Sakura, Sasuke, and breaking habits. And maybe, just maybe, learning new ones. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Cruel Cycle By: EmilyEphebiphobia

She really does hate this sick cycle, but at the same time, she can't help but love it. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Decennial By: fayevalentines

The ten years and ten separate times that Uchiha Sasuke catches himself staring at Haruno Sakura's back chronicled his descent into a maddening, consuming and achingly prosaic lunacy he fearfully acknowledges as love. [Canon-verse and Postcanon-verse.] [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Distant Ruins By: soulaire / @soulairee

AU. One-shot. She is lucky, she thinks, to have Sasuke as her first client. He's handsome, rich, and everything else she's not, and that is exactly why she's here, in his room, giving all of herself over to this stranger she just barely met. She only hopes Naruto never finds out. It would kill him if he knew she was selling her body to keep them alive... [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

don't let go By: theeflowerchild

He made love to her in between the hospital sheets, released her name like a prayer between cracked lips. "I thought I lost you." [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Elevation By: refracted

On day three hundred, he realizes he's probably loved her all along. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Enlightenment By: ClaraDraconis / @claradraconis For Sasuke, clarity comes after the final battle. Sometimes reflecting on the pain you've caused is the only way to realise what you've been missing all along. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Even After Everything By: Rise of the Blossom  / @riseoftheblossom-ff

Once more, her eyes searched through the large crowds of people, searching for that certain face she knew would be lurking around somewhere. At that moment in time, to her, he was all that mattered. He would always be the only one who mattered. [Rated K+, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Everywhere By: flowerslut  / @flowerslut

"Did you—" she hesitated, looking away, "did you miss me?" He did not hesitate, although he did pause and think for a quick moment. "No." [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

finding the inbetween By: glossier 

Whether it's love or hate or something in the middle, his pupils dilate when he sees her. [Rated T, complete] ❣

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

For the Love of the Amaryllis Flower By: theClosetPoet7  / @theclosetpoet7

With them, it has always been like this, him doing whatever he wants and her patiently waiting for his return. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Ghost By: twilightdazzle 

Sakura is officially declared missing on a Wednesday morning. Wednesday, what a stupid day to go missing. Of course, Sakura is the only person he knows that is annoying enough to interrupt the middle of the week like this. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

he said By: the blanket

Sasuke, Sakura, and all that lies between. “I have never expected anything from you. That would have been the height of all foolishness, and say what you want about me, but I was never that. With you, Sasuke-kun, I only ever hoped.” [Rated K+, complete] ❣

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Her Patience Was Rewarding By: DeepPoeticGirl / @xxlovendreamsxx

"I don't care if I throw my life away. If that's what it takes to make your life a little happier, and that this is exactly what you need to fulfill your dreams... then I don't care. Anything and everything for you, Sasuke-kun." [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

how scattered is the shattered glass By: silence.like.sleeping 

Sasuke knows that glass is easy to break and very hard to put back together. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

I think By: Lady Starburst 

She thinks it's impossible to get over something that never was. He thinks there's nothing left. A few years later, Sasuke and Sakura pick up where they left off. Sort of. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Intoxicated By: cherryblossomthundercrash / @uchiharvno

Sasuke always catches Sakura. (TW: alcoholism and drug use) [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Kaleidoscopes By: twilightdazzle 

Because Sakura loves Sasuke in kaleidoscope colors, and not all of them were so pretty. AU. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Magnetism By: twilightdazzle

No," she snarled. "If you're going to leave again, then I want you to be man enough to say goodbye to my face." In which Sakura is stubborn and Sasuke is conflicted. [Rated M, complete] ❣

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

more than enough By: proserandom 

But of course. She never did have a place in his heart. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

One Touch By: Clearheart 

They're always close, but they never touch, and it's killing them both. One touch is all Sakura craves to set things right. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Once More, With Feeling By: JinnySkeans

Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

parting the clouds By: in cages

he points his finger & she bares her teeth; they are in love, or so they're told. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

raindrops falling up By: rawrchelle

“It can’t be anyone but Sakura.” “Why?” “Because she’s the only one stupid enough to love me despite everything.” [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

say anything By: the blanket

Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder. But sometimes radios help, too. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Sickness of love By: GrimmjowKurosaki19 / @grimmjowkurosakidrake

Sasuke falls sick in love and there's no cure. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Tangible By: twilightdazzle 

Sometimes, she feels like she's invisible and they can't see her. Like she wasn't real. And they finally realize she's there just when they're about to lose her. [Rated M, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

The Long Way Home By: the general girl

Sakura finds Sasuke again in Wind Country five years after the war, when he is supposed to be dead and she is supposed to be beyond caring. Neither have been very good at meeting expectations. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

this is how you lose her By: wistfulwhispers 

and that's when you know it's over. as soon as you start thinking about the beginning, it's the end. for most people, at least. [Rated K+, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

Three Months Overdue By: silence.like.sleeping 

There is nothing worse than waiting. Unless you fear that you're waiting in vain. [Rated T, complete]

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

time spent By: sincerelyLen / @sincerelylen

Uchiha Sasuke is not oblivious to how popular Haruno Sakura has become over the years. Once in their lives, she tried to spend most of her free time solely with him. However, years later, Sasuke begins to feel a frustrating displeasure rise when he realizes how happily she splits her time with others, especially those who are not a part of the immediate Team Kakashi. [Rated K+, complete] ❣

🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸

yours, forevermore  By: DeepPoeticGirl  / @xxlovendreamsxx He never meant to hurt her, but he did. He never meant for things to fall apart so bad, but they did. And now, even five years later, as he holds the Hokage seat and finds himself juggling more responsibilities than he can bear, Sasuke still tries to find a way to make things right. Hokage!Sasuke AU. [Rated M, complete]

——————————————————————————

Well, I hope you find what you are looking for in this list!

And if you enjoyed these stories, make sure to leave some love & feedback. 💕

P.S.: I’m slowly going through other asks and prompts as I have free time after work and when my computer allows it - I’m still having some issues :(

~ Happy Reading & Stay Safe!

xoxo

#SasuSaku #theredconversegirl answers things #nonny #ss fics #Sakura Haruno #Sasuke Uchiha #fic rec list #angst #with happy ending #sasusaku fics #theredconversegirl recommends

532 notes · View notes

literary-spirit · 3 years

Text

Bonnie Bennett believed she'd finally discovered her good enough ending. Yet, like most things in her life good enough goes left and leaves her with another ending. Or, perhaps a fire beginning...Journey with everyone's favorite Bennett Witch to the Viking Era for much needed lessons in devotion, courtesy the Lothbrok brothers.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!

AN: Alright Bennett Fandom this one here is a bit different from what you're used to. Okay this one here is a bit different than I'm used to. Francesca has recently rediscovered Vikings and with it the sons of Ragnar. And don't you know she wouldn't rest until she brought our favorite Bennett Witch into their mess! As if our girl didn't already have her own problems. SMFH! So thanks to my lovely muse, here we are with a whole lot of trifling savagery that I'm just not so sure about. But as always I'll let you be the judge if this WIP lives to see another update. Flame it or acclaim it in comments.

“You know as much as I’ve savored the joy of tormenting you over the years-,” Klaus began.

“No,” Bonnie shook her head. She’d tried to go along with his final request. Really she did, but how could she? When in the end all he’d be was gone. “I’m sorry, bae. We’re not doing this.”

Rebekah’s eyes rolled. She released a drawn out exhale that hadn’t been necessary for her since wood ash and pointed stick tattoos were a thing. “Bonnie, don’t ruin this for him! Permit him whatever comfort he demands. He shoulders a burden you’d never be able to fathom. Can you not allow him to experience but one moment of grace? A moment Hope will undoubtedly cling to after he’s gone.”

“No, Rebekah! I’m not about to listen as the man I love gives us all a corny goodbye and pretend to be okay with it. And why the hell should Hope have a moment to cling to when she could have her father?” She gave her head another firm shake. “No, this is not okay with me,” her voice rose as she drilled visual holes through each of them. Klaus tried to shut her down with an arm around the shoulders but she curved him with a shrug, all while committing ocular homicide on him in the process. “So why the hell is it okay with you, Hybrid?” Her scorn riddled gaze darted from him back to his so called family. “Or any of you?”

“You must’ve been down on Bourbon sipping on that Absinthe again if you believe any of this shit is okay with us,” Marcel waved her off barely sparing her a glance. “We all just know Klaus is gonna do whatever Klaus wants no matter how any of us feels about it. The most dangerous place you can be when his mind’s made up is in his way. So I suggest you step out of it.”

Her neck snapped back as if she’d taken a two piece to the chin. “You think I’m afraid of the big bad wolf? I wasn’t at seventeen and if I thought for a second it would save him, I’d put his ass back in the dirt again. I take care of my own, Marcel. No matter the dangers or consequences,” she jabbed a thumb at her hybrid, “And make no mistake, that Original pain in the ass over there is mine.”

“Cute.” Marcel laughed as he rubbed at the corners of his mouth. “Bonnie, we’re his family. Each of us have known, feared, hated, respected, and loved him long before even your parents’ parents became an idea. Hell, even after everything he’s dragged me through, there’s not a drop of blood I wouldn’t bleed for him.”

“Then stand behind those words and do something, Marcel,” she pleaded, because at this point she wasn’t above begging for the only bright spot remaining in the dim bleakness that had become her life seven years before.

“What would you have us do, Bonnie?” Elijah questioned in a barely engaged tone.

Bonnie turned to consider him. A perpetual moroseness now cloaked the one she’d once believed to be noble. His arrogance hadn’t been quite the same since the restoration of his memories. More and more he’d begun to remind her of Finn. She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. Since discovering what Klaus planned to do, she’d toyed with an idea she’d vowed never to indulge. Yet, under the weight of impossible desperation such vows could not stand.

“The eternal witch spell should be evoked,” she said.

“By whom?” Kol questioned. His chocolate browns moved from Freya to Hope. When both appeared to know less than him his disbelieving gawk returned to her. “You?!” Laughter burst from his mouth. “Oh Darling, I’ve witnessed that spell make a supernatural mess of the most talented witches to ever recite a chant. There’s only one destined to master the eternal witch incantation and her sorcery is said to be unmatched.” His knowing gaze drifted to Hope, and then back to her. “There’s no way you’re powerful enough to undertake the task. You’re not even the strongest witch on this block.”

Bonnie flinched. Damn it, if Kol hadn’t DOA’ed her pride. When the hell did he jump on the Bennett hate train? To hear how far his opinion of her plummeted sort of burned.

She nodded. “Okay, if not me why not Davina. You tend to enjoy blowing her horn. If she’s all you claim her to be, get her here. I’ll happily bow down if her being greater than me will save him.” She jerked her head in Klaus’ direction.

“No!” Marcel barked.

“Leave my wife out of this.” Kol zipped across the distance separating them to tower over her. His original face no longer concealed by his human deception.

Klaus rocketed forward to place himself between she and Kol. “Step away from my fiancé, baby brother. For if you harm her then you’ll be joining me in the afterlife. To hell with your bloody dagger and box.”

Ignoring Kol’s and Klaus’ dagger and the box bit, her distressed stare collided with Freya’s. “What about you? Will you help me save your brother?”

“Bonnie, that spell is much too dangerous. Even for me.” The blondes eyes offered her a thousand apologies but not one solution. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it…not now.”

Her desperation bottomed out to despair as her gaze took a hail Mary launch to the supposedly most powerful witch in the room. “Hope?”

The room erupted. You’d think she’d offered the girl a crack pipe. When she was Hope’s age she was taking down well…her dad.

“Bonnie!” Elijah yelled.

“This is madness,” Rebekah growled, taking a step in their direction. “Nik tell her!”

“We’ve already talked about this, Bekah.” Marcel shook his head and tugged Rebekah back to his side. “That doesn’t concern us.” Bonnie heard Marcel mutter.

Klaus spun away from Kol to regard her. He grabbed her face and cradled her cheeks in his palms. “Everything’s going to be alright, Love.” He whispered, before brushing his lips against hers. Liquid pain disturbed the stillness of his crystal blue stare and contradicted the hell out of his reassurance.

“How?” She tugged herself free of his grasp. “How’s everything going to be alright? You’ll be dead and then what? Life goes on? Fuck that! I’m not about to stand here and mourn a defeat I haven’t loss yet!” She whirled away and marched from the gathering. Her decision made.

Once out of sight, she hurried towards their bedroom. Inside, she closed the door and locked it. The barrier wouldn’t hold her hybrid, but the fraction of time it would provide may be all she needed to complete the spell. She fell to her knees next to the mattress. Carefully, she tugged the blanket from underneath the bed. The already prepared altar and ingredients slid out. She stared down at the athamae and exhaled. Second thoughts plagued her mental, but she shook them away. She’d come this far already. The time to bitch up and forget about it had come and gone. Now was the time to do and die, literally.

She picked up the dagger and called forth every ounce of mystical energy which bled through her veins. A swell of Bennett sorcery overwhelmed the room. Pictures rattled on the walls. The balcony doors blew open and the glass shattered. Furniture not nailed down whipped about the room like she’d caught a ride in a tornado. Steeling her nerves, she continued. She called forth her psychic energy, her huntress energy. Any and everything supernatural about her she offered to the Goddess of all in exchange for an eternity of knowledge and the fated eternal mate destined to help her defeat the Hollow.

After relinquishing her all to the Creator she sliced open her palm. Blood gushed from the wound and saturated the ingredients. A searing light illuminated the room. The bargain was struck and accepted. Now the sacrifice. She swallowed and raised the blade. Aiming it at the center of her chest, she closed her eyes.

“Bonnie, no!” Klaus’ voice penetrated the white noise blaring throughout the room. “Love, don’t do this. You won’t survive.”

She opened her eyes. He stood just beyond the enchantment circle, attempting to force his way into the barrier. “Neither will you if I don’t. Besides, if it doesn’t work I’d rather be in the ground anyway than breathe without you, Klaus.”

“Bonnie, please,” he pled as he dropped to his knees. He slammed his fist against the barrier. “Please, don’t do this. We’ll find another way. You have my word, Love!”

A sad smile flirted with her lips. “You’re lying, Klaus. If there was another way then it would already be the plan.” She plunged the blade into the cradle of her breasts. A piercing burn penetrated her chest.

“No!” Klaus’ bellow seared layers from her punctured heart. The storm of mystical energy whipping about ceased.

Her knees buckled. Klaus caught her before the ground could and cuddled her close. She attempted to talk, but a wheeze whistled pass her lips instead.

“No, Love, don’t speak.” He bit into his wrist and placed the bleeding extremity to her mouth. His blood might as well had been battery acid because she’d bet dollars to air it burned the same. Hacking coughs damn near shook her frame apart by the joints. “Why the sodding hell isn’t this working?”

“I-It’s the s-spell,” she managed to utter. “M-my death is the p-price of a-admission.”

Tears trickled from his eyes onto her face. “Why did I have to go and love you, Little Witch?” He demanded, looking beyond confused.

“B-Because its what we b-both needed at the time and no m-matter how this turns out I’ll always be indebted to you for giving me a reason. L-Love you, Hybrid…always and f-forever.” His face faded until nothing but darkness surrounded her.

Chapter 1

The abyss gave way to blinding lights. Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut. A cacophony of sounds battered her auditory senses. The eardrum rupturing racket nearly distracted her from the violent rocking motion. A violent rocking motion which would no doubt wrought absolute fuckery on her cyclic vomiting syndrome. Right along with the tang of salt-water, unwashed bodies, and rotten fish. The potpourri of funk came close to singeing the lining of her nostrils.

A familiar acrid burn tickled the back of her throat. On cue her belly spun a series of gold medal winning somersaults. Oh this was going to happen. Her lack of sight heightened her senses and made her that much more sensitive to all the upchuck factors swirling about her. Unable to continue to live in the darkest part of her denial and remain vomit free, she opened her eyes. The brightest day she'd ever had to tolerate greeted her light discriminating gaze. She closed her eyes once more. What in the extreme fuck? Was this some kind of hell dimension? Is that why she was only a five minute drive away from the damn sun? Oh Goddess no!

"Cade?!" She growled.

The acrid burn that flirted with the back of her throat developed a sour chunky consistency. Once again she forced her eyes open...and blinked. She was on a vessel that appeared to have hailed straight out of Vikings. Damning the unnecessary brightness and her afterlife in general, she turned and tossed up the entire contents of her stomach over the boats edge. The seafood gumbo from Rousseau's she loved nearly as much as Klaus shot from her mouth and floated one way while the wind and Hades' cruiser sailed her in another.

As gravity took her down exhaustion fucked her over. She rested her cheek on the boat's wooden ledge. Drops of putrid salt water splashed her face. Yet, her fucks to give was at a negative zero low. Not only was she dead, but more than likely so was Klaus. She'd failed him...she'd failed them. Not even eternity would be long enough to make that shit okay.

Bonnie's vision blurred. Her chest throbbed. She clawed at the pounding ache between her breasts. Goddess, it's a wonder her chest didn't have a gaping hole in it after everything her heart had lost. Shaking her latest failure from her thoughts, she turned to slouch back to the boat's floor. She then lifted her gaze to assess her surroundings. Various shades of irises gawked back at her. She froze. Oh damn! Just her luck the water was sacred. She opened her mouth to offer an apology, but snapped it closed. Wait...why the hell did everyone look like extras from the Last Kingdom?

Slowly, her gaze dropped from the filthy hairy men towering over her to what she wore. The burlap sack dress she donned stopped her ever ticking clock. And based on the breeze cooling her cakes, her La Perla's had opted to skip the journey to the other side. Her back teeth clenched. In what kind of after life had she been dropped? Was this some kind of Viking hell? Had she somehow been granted eternity with Klaus in his hereafter?

The shifting of bodies snaked her attention from Kanye's spring wear to the now parting beefy men. A sight which had her questioning her sanity emerged. Bjorn Lothbrok or at any rate the actor who portrayed him in Vikings. Was he dead and stuck on the Otherside also? Wait, was Alexander Ludwig even supernatural?

"You're not one of the slaves who was captured during the raid. One of your hue, I would've remembered." The head Viking in charge edge that resonated in Bjorn's or Alexander's voice snatched her from her contemplations. "How've you come to be upon this ship?" When she opened her mouth to speak the cold sharpened point of a sword pierced the hollow of her throat. "Speak to me of canards or sagas and I shall open your gullet."

She hesitated for a moment. What could she say? The truth would definitely get her neck split wide. "I-I'm not sure. Before...when I closed my eyes, I was somewhere else and now that I've opened them, I'm..." she glanced from the horror frozen faces of the crewmen to the beyond frightened slaves. The poor shackled souls huddled away from her in the ship crevices and corners on either side of her. She swallowed and allowed her gaze to return to Bjorn. "I'm here."

"Oh my god," she heard one of the slaves mutter in a tone that, to her surprise, sounded annoyed?

His scoff sliced the disbelief inspired silence in half. He withdrew the biting tip of his sword from her throat and sheathed it in the scabbard at his side. "Bind her hands to her feet and toss her over."

The ship erupted in a flurry of movement. Two overfed red-haired and even redder faced Viking men moved to grab her. She nearly projectile vomited her heart from her mouth.

"I know what I'm saying sounds apeshit, but I swear on everything I love, Alexander," she said slowly uttering the name and searching his face for a flare of recognition. When nothing sparked in his expression she stammered on, "I-I'm telling the truth. Please, you have to believe me, Bjorn!" A flicker of curiosity narrowed his glare. Bingo! "You can't let them kill me! Please, I don't wanna die again!"

"Halt!" He bellowed, raising a hand to stop the men from advancing, "How've you come to know of my name?"

Shit! She pressed her lips together as her mind flipped through a too short list of plausible explanations that wouldn't get her burned at a stake for witchcraft. "I-I've dreamt of you a-and of this moment." There, that didn't sound too bad. One thing she'd learned from Klaus, watching Vikings, and Google, is ancient Northman actually revered oracles and seers.

"You've dreamt of me?" He knelt before her, arresting her stare with a penetratingly incandescent blue gaze. At a deliberate methodical pace, his eyes crept over her face. Her lungs threatened to collapse under the thorough scrutiny. "Of this moment?" Unable to look anywhere other than in the irises that burned brighter than the now blazing sun, her head bobbed. A smile enticed the corners of his mouth. "Then why fear what you know will follow? Have you not prepared well to meet your fate?"

"Not if my fate resides at the bottom of the ocean," she said with a firm shake of the head, "That's an introduction I'd like to cur—avoid indefinitely."

His head tilted just so as he continued to regard her. "Name yourself."

"Bonnie Bennett," she answered.

A golden brow lifted. "Bonnie Bennett of where?"

"New-M-Mystic Falls...Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

"I have never heard of a land with such a name," he huddled a bit closer to her, "in which direction does your homeland lie?"

Before she could answer, thick gun metal gray clouds rolled across the azure sky and swallowed the glaring sun. A sonic boom exploded somewhere in the distance, while blue streaks of lightening zigzagged its way through the stodgy swirls of gloom. And if the situation wasn't already atom splitting serious, fat drops of rain and hail the size of golf balls began to pelt them.

"This storm is unnatural!" A seaman yelled.

"What in the name of Odin will become of us? None of us shall discover the gates of Valhalla at the bottom of the sea!" A ruddy face old man with a scraggly beard roared at anyone who appeared to be listening.

Another much younger seaman, maybe a little older than herself, turned an anxious stare on Bjorn. "Do you believe the All Father has forsaken us, Ironside?"

Bjorn opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a blonde slave girl who pointed a finger in her direction, "It's her! Her very presence displeases the gods. You should heave her over and pray the sacrifice appeases them."

"You sound dumb as hell! It's no wonder you're in chains," Bonnie snapped, regretting her words as soon as they left her lips. Stupidity had nothing to do with forced captivity. Yet, that bitch had some damn nerve.

"No one will be heaving anyone over," Bjorn said, while standing from his crouch, "Raise the sails and provide the slaves with pails so they may began dumping water from the ship's floor."

A surge of magic thickened the air. The foreign sorcery incited something within her. Something unfamiliar. A bucket was pushed in her face. She took the wooden pail without looking away from the sea. The very stench of alien witchery agitated her own strange mystical energy. The fiery heat of her somehow altered super charged power practically scorched the inner lining of her veins as it raced through her vessels. Who would dare interrupt the supernatural and natural balance on this scale without justification? It was like using a heat seeking missile to take out a mosquito. Un-fucking-called for!

Instead of allowing the now aggressive powers within her the retribution it sought, she settled just to keep the occupants on the ship safe. So, while she dumped water from the boat's floor, she chanted under her breath. Soon, a protective shield formed around them in an elusive form of the previous sunny day. The Vikings and slaves alike erupted in praises to Odin.

"Yep," Bonnie forced a smile. "Praise Odin!"

"Come, Mystical One," Bjorn stood over her, his shadow casting her much needed shade.

Distrust and her impromptu guest starring role on a show which highlighted the fact that Vikings had no problems raping captives, raised her guards. Though realms out of her element, she was far from ignorant.

Her gaze moved over him in an attempt to size him up. "Where?"

"To the prow," He gestured towards the front of the ship before snatching the pail from her hands, and then tossing it aside. "I wish to learn more about you and this numinous land named Mystic Falls." When she took too long to follow he locked his hands behind his back and considered her. "If I wanted to lie with you then all I need do is have you. Do you believe anyone here would be minded to protect you?"

She lifted her chin as she glanced about the ship to see not one person watching them for concern purposes. Every eye she caught on them looked to be pre-historic Shade Room and TMZ reporters. If they had tea kettles back then they'd no doubt be ready to spill the damn things. No, Bjorn spoke the truth. No one on that confoundingly long boat would lift a calloused palm to help her.

"Alright." Exhaling, she stood and leveled him with a glare even a PMS'ing demon would be incapable of exacting. "But fair warning, no one on this ship can protect me better than me. And make no mistake, I'm not above defending my own honor."

He reached out and took her hand in his. "That is a certainty about you of which I'll never be mistaken, Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

#bonniebennett #vampirediaries #the originals #crossover #alternate universe #fanfiction #ivar the boneless #bjorn ironside #hvitserk #sigurd #ubbe lothbrok #vikings #time travel

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baepsaesbae · 4 years

Text

Before (Heal Me, Kill Me Prequel)

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x OC named Maggie (thanks @kimtaehyunq)

Genre— SMUT, Angst, Vampire!Tae au, Victorian era au

Warnings— Explicit unprotected sex (but like pretty vanilla and loving), some violence and death

Word Count— 4.8k

Summary— Taehyung was a vampire with nothing but time and boredom on his hands. He’s going on his monthly feeding adventures when he comes across a rather peculiar prey.

A/N— This was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away and made a full prequel oops. The Heal Me, Kill Me series will be posting starting in October! The pairing will be Kim Taehyung x reader so it’ll be the usual y/n stuff. Thanks for reading, feedback is always welcome~

It was a dark and stormy night. Ok, well it wasn’t stormy, but at least it was nighttime. The year was 1863. Taehyung made his way down to the sketchy part of town, eager for a meal. Opium was all the rage nowadays, but Taehyung despised it. It tainted people, making them even more unbearable than he thought was possible. He drew the line past alcoholics, though he still wasn’t fond of them. However, people were even easier to persuade with absinthe coursing through their veins.

“Hey handsome, looking for some fun?” a woman approached him from the shadows, her knockers practically spilling out of her corset. She reeked of all sorts of carcinogenic substances.

“Away with ye, painted Jezebel,” Taehyung shooed her away, and she instantly stood up straight and walked in the opposite direction with a clouded look in her eyes.

It was hard to come by a decent meal these days. Unfortunately, sticking to the slums was his best option. No one cared if a poor commoner went missing. At least he only had to partake in such grizzly actions about once a month. Any longer than that and he’d be in big trouble (or more accurately, random people who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time would be in big trouble).

Something caught Taehyung’s attention. He lifted his chin and took a deep inhale of a sweet aroma that wafted through the air. It was the scent of something he’d never dream of finding in the slums; an untainted individual. Untainted in the sense of a perfectly pure body, not once given into sinful indulgences.

Taehyung quickly followed the smell, growing more excited with each step. Through the narrowly winding alleyways and past some rather alarming scenes, Taehyung did not stop. He could barely keep himself from salivating once he arrived at the source.

There she was. A beacon of light in the dreary depths of a neglected corner of the world. Taehyung curiously observed her as she fluttered from body to body, carefully checking pulses and offering aid. He couldn’t help but scoff at her earnesty. There was no use in saving these people. They were beyond salvation. Yet, he silently watched her work as she hauled around her makeshift med kit. That was a mistake. The more he watched her, the more personal interest he took.

After devising a plan, Taehyung was ready to make his move. He started at the opposite end of the street, intending to meet up with her somewhere in the middle. He crouched beside each body with an extended hand; random passerbys would see a well dressed man committing charity work out of the goodness of his heart. That was his intention, though he was merely hypnotizing each person into a deep slumber if they weren’t already passed out.

“Are you looking for someone, sir?” the young woman piped up behind him.

“Not in particular,” Taehyung coolly answered as he stood up to face her.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but may I ask what someone like you is doing in a place like this if you’re not looking for someone in particular?” she crossed her arms with distrust.

“Is it a crime to want to help out the less fortunate? What we’re doing doesn’t seem to be much different. May I ask what a young girl like you is doing out here all alone in the middle of the night? It can be very dangerous,” his deep voice resonated in the air.

“Oh. You’re helping them too? I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean any harm. People like you just don’t really come down here unless it’s for certain unspeakable acts,” she bowed her head apologetically.

“Unspeakable? You help the people who partake in such acts,” Taehyung observed keenly, “Why bring them aid?”

“If I don’t, no one else will,” the girl answered solemnly.

“That simple hm? You seek nothing in return? Or is your vice that of self appointed importance?” Taehyung slowly approached the girl.

“I help them because they need it. Because they’d die without someone like me,” the girl held her ground.

“How admirable. I’m impressed, young miss. Please don’t think I was insulting you, I’m genuinely fascinated by you. Would you care to accompany me for dinner?” he extended his arm to her ever so slightly.

“It’s a bit late for dinner isn’t it?” she responded timidly.

“I suppose calling it a midnight snack would be more fitting. Your answer?” Taehyung asked calmly, concealing his impatience.

“Forgive my apprehension. I’m sure you’re a fine gentleman, it’s just that this isn’t a place one would normally find fine gentlemen. I’ll gladly join you for breakfast in the morning,” she countered.

Taehyung’s eye twitched with frustration, but luckily it was too dark for the girl to see it. He needed to feed. That night.

“I’m not keen on breakfast meals. How about tomorrow evening, during normal dinner time hours? Unless you can’t skip a day of helping the helpless,” he suggested.

“That would be fine,” the girl finally agreed, “Oh, and I never caught your name, sir.”

“Taehyung. Pleasure to meet you,” he bowed elegantly.

“I’m Maggie, the pleasure is all mine,” she curtsied awkwardly.

After hashing out the details. Taehyung reluctantly left her alone. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into her jugular, but something held him back. His curiosity got the better of him, but after living for all these years it was hard for him to find something interesting. He figured it couldn’t hurt.

Taehyung cursed himself as he tore into an unsuspecting victim who had passed out drunk on the street. He retched at the foul taste, but this is what he has had to resort to. He couldn’t afford to be run out of another country yet again. His more refined taste would have to be put on hold for the time being (oh how he missed the good old days when people feared him enough to bring pristine victims monthly).

Rain lightly tapped against the window that Taehyung gazed out of as he scanned the crowd for Maggie. There were so many things he wanted to ask her, though a single drop of her blood would tell him everything he needed to know. Of course, that wasn’t as entertaining as an old fashioned conversation.

Maggie finally arrived, and the restaurant host escorted her to the table. Taehyung could tell that she made an effort to look presentable. He reasoned that she was wearing her finest dress, though it had a plain and rather boring look to it. Plus, she wasn’t even wearing a fancy hat, much less a bonnet.

“Good evening, Mr. Taehyung,” she curtsied before she sat down.

“Good evening, Miss Maggie. Have you been well?” Taehyung asked politely.

“As well as I can be, I suppose. Yourself?” Maggie extended the same courtesy.

“I’m splendid, now that you’re here. Tell me about yourself,” he dove right in.

“I’m just an average girl. Nothing really special about me,” she shrugged while tugging at a strand of hair, “I never thought I’d be able to eat in a place like this in a million years. You must be embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“I disagree. I think you’re the most interesting thing here, apart from me of course,” Taehyung let out a low chuckle, “I gather you come from a poor family? What do they think about your late night escapades?”

“They’re...gone. Sickness took them. Cholera,” Maggie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “I don’t wanna see anyone else die so I…”

“Ah. That’s your noble cause huh? Admirable,” Taehyung took a long sip from his wine glass.

“And what of you, Mr. Taehyung? You seem rather peculiar yourself. What’s your reason for visiting that ward so late at night?” Maggie deflected the subject away from her.

“You could say I’m a humanitarian of sorts. I visit at least once a month, it’s a necessity for me,” he smiled slyly, “What else do you want to know? I haven’t had a decent conversation in ages.”

“You struck me as rather peculiar. A handsome gentleman like yourself lurking around giving aid to the weak. And then you only gave me one name when we introduced ourselves. I assumed it was your first name, so I gave you my first name in return. Forgive me if I was mistaken,” Maggie took a sip of water.

“One name is all you need to know, dear. I’m happy we’re on a first name basis. However, I can address you otherwise if you deem it improper,” Taehyung offered.

The rest of the evening went on pleasantly. The meal was delicious, probably the best meal Maggie had ever had. She noticed that Taehyung’s meat was barely cooked, it was practically still raw. She decided not to mention it when she saw him happily gobble it down. Maggie also noticed that his red wine was thicker than what she was accustomed to seeing, but she figured it was a fancy alcohol that rich people drank. She didn’t want to embarrass herself by asking.

Taehyung’s leg bounced quickly under the table. Maggie’s aroma grew more intense the longer he was with her. Her scent was intoxicating, and it took everything in his power not to take her then and there. He was in a conundrum. He took a liking to this spunky girl. He was torn. He didn’t know when to devour her, if to devour her at all.

By the end of the night, he had decided. He’d keep her around for as long as he wanted, it wouldn’t be a big deal. He could easily end her life whenever he pleased anyway. The only thing he’d have to worry about was his self control.

Taehyung and Maggie began to meet regularly. Taehyung would share the finer things in life with her. He’d take her to botanical gardens and fancy museums. In return, Maggie taught him everything she knew about medicine. She detested the use of cocaine as a common remedy, and preferred to make her own medicine. Taehyung accompanied her on her nightly rounds, he enjoyed every second he spent with her.

It took about a year for Taehyung to officially court Maggie. She accepted, of course, and was now visiting Taehyung’s home for the first time. Home was an understatement. His mansion resided on a massive estate.

A grand feast awaited Maggie. Her favorite dishes and desserts lined the dinner table, with Taehyung sitting at the opposite end. As Maggie dug into the food, she struggled to hold her tongue. A question had been lingering on her mind for quite some time now.

“Is everything alright, Miss Maggie? Is the food inadequate?” Taehyung asked from across the room.

“The food is delicious, probably the best I’ve ever had. Your kitchen staff must be very talented,” Maggie shook her head.

“Ah, I have no staff here. I’m glad you enjoy the food, it was all made by me,” Taehyung said proudly.

“You take care of this entire property by yourself?” Maggie’s jaw dropped in shock.

“It’s tough sometimes, and lonely. I suppose I could hire one person to help out,” Taehyung lifted his eyebrows at Maggie.

“M-me? I’m not really a good cook but--”

“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. As you can see, I have more rooms than I know what to do with. You’re welcome to stay here with me for as long as you like,” Taehyung offered.

“Can you answer one question for me first, Mr. Taehyung?” Maggie asked tentatively.

“Ask me anything,” Taehyung smiled.

“Are...are you ill?” Maggie looked at him with concern, “Please don’t take any offense. I noticed that we only meet in the evenings or when it’s a cloudy day. And I know that you have a predilection for barely cooked meats, and I’m sure eating raw things isn’t good for you. Also when we first met I thought rich people just had fancy alcohol but I can never see anyone drinking the same concoction as you whenever we eat at restaurants,” she rambled.

“My my, aren’t you observant,” Taehyung’s lips twisted into an amused smile, “Are you afraid of monsters?”

“Monsters aren’t real,” Maggied quickly answered, annoyed that he deflected her questions.

“Are you sure about that? Think carefully. I only go out at night or under cloud cover. I prefer my meat raw. I drink a rather strange red liquid that you should be very familiar with since you tend to the drunkards who are bound to get into fights down in the slums,” Taehyung toyed with her.

“What? Do you expect me to believe that you’re some sort of vile creature that drinks blood?” Maggie laughed nervously.

In an instant, Taehyung’s chair was vacant as he menacingly stood over Maggie, “That is precisely the truth. Have you heard of vampyres?” he licked his lips.

Maggie was too frightened to move. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her? Her eyes narrowed in on the fangs Taehyung bared as he smiled eerily down at her.

“I’ve heard of them. The people in the slums are terrified of being sucked dry, claiming that people wandering alone at night have a death wish. I thought they were just delusional,” panic gripped Maggie, “Were you going to eat me the first night we met?”

“I desperately wanted to. You know the irresistible and mouth watering smell of a bakery in the morning? That’s what you smell like to me, only ten times more alluring and potent,” Taehyung nodded.

“Then why haven’t you yet?” Maggie questioned.

“Because, my dear Miss Maggie, I am a fool. I have taken a liking to you. As you can imagine, being an immortal being gets lonely. You’ve provided me with more joy and entertainment than I’ve had in a while. At this point, I’d rather have you stay alive,” he sighed.

“So if I stayed here with you, you’d promise you’d never harm me?” Maggie attempted to calm her breathing.

“Of course, I would not touch a hair on your head. Unless you want me to,” he winked.

“You would make me into a vampyre?” Maggie’s eyes widened.

“I was hinting at a more carnal interaction, but I could do that as well. Do you want an immortal life?” Taehyung’s eyes wandered to her exposed neck.

“No. Not if it costs others their lives. I must be crazy Mr. Taehyung. You’ve admitted that you’re a monster and yet I still feel safe with you. I would love to move in and keep you company, if you’ll have me,” Maggie smiled fondly.

“You’re very strange, Miss Maggie. That’s not at all the reaction I thought you’d have, but I’m happy for it. Very well, you may stay here. I can help you bring your belongings tomorrow night,” Taehyung grinned.

“I’m curious; were you born a vampyre?” Maggie piped up. Taehyung let out a hearty laugh.

“No, I was a human once like you. I got into a scuffle with a nasty bloke in the 16th century. Rather than killing me, he gave me a far worse end. He turned me. I haven’t seen him to this day, but I’m sure the slimy bastard is still undead somewhere in the world,” Taehyung’s cheery face fell into a scowl.

“16th century? You’re an old man!” Maggie exclaimed teasingly.

“But I have the physical body of a young man, that must count for something, Taehyung chuckled, “Come, I can escort you to your room.”

“Am I staying the night?” Maggie tilted her head.

“That was my assumption. You’re free to leave at any time,” Taehyung shrugged.

“It’s just that...I’ve never left my family home. I’ve been pretty lonely since everyone died. I can’t imagine how you must feel…” she trailed off.

“You’ve helped me with that tremendously. I guess we’ve cured each other’s loneliness, yes?” Taehyung cupped his hands over Maggie’s.

It was the first time he had ever touched her. His fingers were ice cold, resembling the kind of cold only a corpse could possess. Instinctively, she took his hands in hers and attempted to blow warm air onto them. Taehyung knew it would never work, but he appreciated the gesture. He pulled her into a warm embrace.

“Forgive me if this is inappropriate. You make me feel at ease,” Taehyung whispered. To his surprise, Maggie hugged him back tightly. She didn’t say anything, but her actions were clear enough.

Taehyung sat in an armchair in his room reading a novel a couple hours after he bid Maggie goodnight. He was pleased with the outcome of the night’s events. He was honestly dreading the thought of having to kill Maggie if she were to run away screaming. He was glad things didn’t come to that.

There was a knock on the door. With a wave of his hand the door swung open, revealing a sleepy Maggie on the other side.

“I heard a strange noise and couldn’t fall back to sleep,” Maggie yawned.

“Don’t lie,” Taehyung chided without looking up from his book.

“I’ve never slept away from home before and being alone in that big room scares me,” Maggie admitted, her eyes cast down to the floor.

“That’s what I thought. You’re welcome to use my bed. I’ll stay here while you sleep,” Taehyung finally looked up and kindly gestured to the large bed.

“Where’s your coffin?” Maggie asked as she wiggled into the sheets.

“That’s a stereotype. Do I look like the type of guy who sleeps in a stuffy wooden coffin? Nonsense. However, there is soil from my hometown beneath the bed,” Taehyung tsked.

“Really?” Maggie’s eyes grew wide.

“Nope. Go to bed, Miss Maggie,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Care to join me?” Maggie asked as she stretched.

“I’m not going to sleep--”

“Then neither am I! I’m practically wide awake now,” Maggie interrupted him.

Taehyung put his book down and walked to the bed, opting to sit on the end, a respectable distance away from Maggie. They talked the night away. Now that Maggie had some time to process everything, she had a plethora of questions ranging from vampyres to fashion throughout the years.

“So have you ever been married? Or in love?” Maggie probed.

“Never been married. Have been in love a few times. As you can imagine they all ended in heartache. Truthfully, I’ve been questioning why I let myself get so attached to you,” Taehyung confessed.

“I’m glad you did. Because I love you, Mr. Taehyung. I fell in love with your grace and intellect, and of course you’re extremely handsome. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way about me, I just wanted to be candid with you before living together,” Maggie tugged at her hair.

“Miss Maggie, I foolishly fell in love with you. You’d be one with the dirt by now if I hadn’t been so enthralled by you. Hm, that didn’t come out very romantic,” Taehyung shook his head before continuing, “The feeling is mutual. I know I can’t give you a normal marriage, but I promise to love you until the end.”

Maggie crawled towards Taehyung and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Taehyung deepened the kiss as he pushed her flat onto the bed. Hands wandered. Giggles filled the air. Clothing fell to the ground. Soon, both beings were stark naked as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Are you sure you want to go any further?” Taehyung asked.

“I want all of you inside me,” Maggie replied as she brought him in for another kiss.

Taehyung guided his dick to her entrance, patiently teasing it as he coated himself in her juices. Once he was drenched, he slowly slid into her, giving her time to adjust to his size. She let out soft moans as he went deeper.

They laced their fingers together once he began to thrust. He started slowly, making sure she was enjoying herself. He wanted to enjoy all of her delicately, taking careful care not to break her. His prior flings with the whores in the brothels was different. He didn’t care about them, he used them solely for his own pleasure. But this time, he wanted to please Maggie. He was happy to see her eyes shut with pleasure as he picked up the pace.

Taehyung placed his thumb on a certain little sensitive nub, making Maggie jump. Her eyes were blown out with lust as she arched her back. Taehyung worked her body perfectly, timing his thrusts with the clitoral stimulation. It didn’t take long for Maggie’s entire body to shake.

“Tae-Taehyung I--”

“Go ahead. Just let it all out, Maggie,” Taehyung demanded. He accidentally let his power of persuasion slip into that statement. Maggie came on the spot, cumming all over his cock as she moaned. It wasn’t long after until Taehyung released his seed inside of her.

Maggie’s chest heaved as she lay motionless on the bed. That was the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. Taehyung cleaned her up before tucking her back into the bed. Once he cleaned himself up, he joined her side.

“Don’t worry about getting pregnant. I’m technically dead anyway,” he kissed her forehead before they both dozed off.

Taehyung woke up the following evening to an empty bed. He searched the house, unable to find Maggie. He began to worry. Did she leave him to get help? Did she abandon him?

“Good morning! Sleep well?” Maggie called out to him as she walked through the front doors.

“Why were you outside?” Taehyung questioned quickly.

“Lemme show you,” Maggie took Taehyung’s hand and led him outside. She proudly showed off a patch of crudely repotted plants. She explained to him that she went into town to get a few. Since she’d save a couple lives here and there, some people felt indebted to her. She called on her favors and managed to wrangle up a couple flowers and herbs.

“I love the botanical garden you always take me to. I figured we can try and make our own here since you have so much space,” Maggie smiled.

“Do you garden often?” Taehyung asked while looking at the half wilted plants.

“Never have, but it can’t be that hard right? Just give them water and love. Just watch, this place will rival that fancy botanical garden,” a flicker of determination lit up in her eyes.

Several happy years later, Maggie had kept her word. It had been ten wonderful years filled with merriment. Taehyung was not the man he was before. Maggie had softened his heart, and he was thankful for it. He accompanied her when she tended to the people in the slums, learning the art of medicine by her side. She even helped curb his bloodlust. Taehyung only fed on the people who were beyond help, or those who actively sought death. Maggie still didn’t like it, but of course that was out of her control.

Taehyung’s arms were wrapped around Maggie as they admired their personal garden. It was a struggle at first, but they discovered that Taehyung had a godlike green thumb, and basically resurrected the plants back from the dead. With his guidance, Maggie was able to see her vision come true.

One night, Taehyung had to leave the mansion for a few hours to meet with his business colleagues (he was a rather savvy businessman, being around for a couple hundred years does that to a person). Taehyung itched to return to Maggie’s side and barely paid attention to the meeting. She always claimed that she would be fine, it was only a couple hours after all. Even so, Taehyung worried about her.

Finally the meeting was adjourned, and he was free to rush home. He found the front door unlocked upon his arrival. He gave the handle a quizzical look, he was sure that he had locked it.

“Maggie? Where are you?” he called out.

“Taehyung! Run away--” Maggie’s muffled scream came from the dining room.

Two big men stood at either side of a tied up Maggie, who now had a black eye. One of the men held a knife to her throat, close enough to draw out an inkling of blood.

“‘ello, Mr. Taehyung. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” a third stout man with a thick cockney accent emerged from a corner of the room, “I’ll cut to the chase. You let us kill you, and the little missy gets to live. If you resist, she dies. Simple as that.”

“Who are you people? You’re making a huge mistake. I have connections all over the country that--”

“Spare us the horseshit. We know what you are, filthy vampyre,” the word rolled off the stout man’s tongue like a slur, “The VEC sent us. You know ‘em? Stands for ‘Vampyre Extermination Company’ it does. We’re the best they ‘av, so you might as well surrender now.”

“Oh you already know? Lovely, that saves me time,” Taehyung growled as he seemingly phased from where he stood over to Maggie (but vampyres can’t teleport, they just have super speed and can fly sometimes).

In the blink of an eye, he broke the neck of the man who held the knife and threw the other guy across the room. He quickly released Maggie, and hugged her tightly before returning to attack the intruders. He lifted the stout man by his neck and held him against the wall.

“You sure you’re the best? The VEC must be a pretty unsuccessful organization,” Taehyung taunted.

“I told yous we should’ve just killed her in the first place and then ambushed him!” the stout man yelled to no one in particular.

Taehyung sank his fangs into the man’s neck, before ripping out a piece. He was going to enjoy torturing him. It was what he deserved for harming his beloved Maggie. A gunshot went off, stopping Taehyung in the middle of his raging frenzy.

Taehyung looked back in horror. Maggie held her bleeding stomach, sinking to the floor. The man he had thrown at the wall earlier was wielding a gun with a smirk on his face. Taehyung lost it. He ripped the assailant’s beating heart out from his chest.

He scrambled over to Maggie, cradling her in his arms.

“That hurt,” she joked weakly.

“Shh, don’t speak. I have to get you to a doctor. I can carry you--”

“It’s too late. This wound is worse than most of what we’ve seen in the slums. I’m just sorry I have to leave you so soon,” a tear rolled down her cheek.

“No! No please don’t leave me. There’s still time! I can turn you and we can be together forever,” Taehyung wept.

“You know I never wanted that. I’m sorry I’m being so selfish,” Maggie coughed up blood, “I love you, Mr. Taehyung. Don’t ever forget that,” she said with her final breath.

Taehyung held her until he saw the light leave her eyes. Anguish and sorrow filled his soul. He held her close and sobbed over her lifeless body.

“You tricked her into lovin’ ya, eh? There’s no end to the wickedness of you bastards,” the stout man struggled to say as he drowned in his own blood.

Taehyung gently laid Maggie’s body on the floor and walked over to the stout man. He stepped on the man’s throat, crushing his windpipe and adding pressure to his gaping wound. The man’s eyes screamed in pain as Taehyung looked down at him blankly.

“The VEC huh? I’ll remember that. I’ll see you in hell someday,” Taehyung spat as he trampled the man beneath him.

Taehyung didn’t leave Maggie’s side for a week straight. He couldn’t bear to do anything; he didn’t want to admit that she was gone. His heart broke every time he saw her, but he couldn’t bring himself to move her. It wasn’t until her corpse was a bloated smelly mess that finally motivated Taehyung to move.

“I’m sorry I let you become this way, Miss Maggie,” Taehyung whispered as he carried the body out to the botanical garden. He buried her there, among her cherished plants.

Taehyung fled his estate. The crime scene wasn’t discovered until a year later when his business associates came to check on him after he missed several meetings.

Taehyung swore that he would never love again. Never open up again. And never ever, under any circumstances, interact with the VEC. As much as he wanted to tear the establishment apart, he knew Maggie would be against it. He couldn’t bear disappointing her, even in death.

He settled down in a small unsuspecting town in a different country. He bought an abandoned property where he swore he’d live out the rest of his days quietly and peacefully.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #vampire bts #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bts fanfic #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #bayanihanboost #bts angst #taehyung angst

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simonrriley · 3 years

Text

GREATEST HITS.

note: i got bored after the test, so i wrote this idea that’s been on my mind for a while, it’s short because i want it to be cryptic, also, listen to the song greatest hits while reading because you’ll SEE why i put it in warnings: demons, repetition, blood tags: @and-shes-calling-a-cab, @love-pyramus, @tommyinnitt, @thatsmycigarbutyoucanborrowit, @panicky-pancakes, @babymushroomboy, @trans-witch-cauldron, @the-phoenix-or-the-flame

Last night I had the strangest dream of all

Smoke slipped from Eric’s parted lips as his arms dangled off the balcony, the tail of his suit flapping gently in the breeze. He looked over the illuminated city, storm clouds brewing over it, obscuring the light from the shore.

They only seemed to grow closer and he sighed, taking another drag on his cigarette. He had time. He adjusted his necklace, the key hitting his chest as he let go. His dark eyes turned, gazing at his watch. 3:33 AM. ‘Devil’s hour,’ he thought, a smirk tugging at his lips. ‘Seems fitting.’ A siren blared over the city.

Last night I had the strangest dream of all Somewhere, three decades ago, a young woman sat alone in an office. Back against the wall as she stared, terrified, at the person in front of them. Her hands cradled her side, black blood seeping between her fingers and staining the floor. “Why?” she rasped, tears slipping down her cheeks as black spots swirled her vision. “Because, my dear Absinthe,” That wasn’t her name. Not yet anyway. A hand cupped her face gently. “You have a new assignment.”

Last night I had the strangest dream of all “You’re doing great, Angellica, I promise, almost there,” a voice cooed. “Just get the damn thing out of me!” “She’s your daughter, not a thing.” “Not to me.” A baby began screaming.

Last night I had the strangest dream of all

Eric stared up at the forest, sparks and ash flickering down around him. “Erica!’ a harsh voice called from miles away. How could he go home? To them? He jolted, fear coursing through him. And then flames roared, branches and wood creaking and hissing as dark fire shot through them. Smoke rose high above the forest. Last night I had the strangest dream of all “Where’s Jason?” His father called, his angry voice would normally cause panic to flood through Eric. However, as he stood in the backyard, trying to subtly pack down dirt with his feet, he wasn’t scared. Not at all. “I’m not sure. I thought he went to the skate park.” They’d never find the bloody knife in the woods.

(Nothing will ever be the same) A shadowy figure surged forward, pulling itself off of the wall, moving the other shadows with it until it formed a body. An inky black figure, with white eyes and a vague shape of a mouth. It was like it was made of the dark. The deepest shade of it. “Who are you?” “My name is Absinthe.”

Last night I had the strangest dream of all “You ready for this?” Absinthe asked, grinning at Eric, who nervously stared at the swirling black portal in front of them. “As I’ll ever be,” he answered, shrugging. Absinthe took his hand in hers and jumped forward, sucking him down into the portal with him. Eric kept his eyes shut tight, while he felt the world shifting around him. Nothing would ever be the same.

(The world is yours if you want it) “Come on, that's all you got?” Absinthe called, surging forward and pressing Eric against the stone, sword at his neck. “Well you,” he said, kicking out and pushing her off him. “Won’t let me use my powers.” “Parasite,” Absinthe corrected, staggering back, adjusting her grip on the sword. “Same thing.” “Not quite.” “Both enhance my fighting ability.” “Just - come at me again. If you want to be able to take Ambrose, you gotta do better than that.”

Last night I had the strangest dream of all Eric peered down at the water, looking for the signature ripples he’d come to love. From deep below, a light blue glow appeared and grew closer, fading as it got closer to the surface. A dark haired head poked above the surface and bright yellow eyes blinked up at him. Eric grinned widely, offering a hand to Milo and pulling him up onto the rock. “Hey fish-face.”

(Take this time you have) A storm rumbled overhead, lightning flashing in the distance. Thunder roared and shook the ground, stones falling out from the castle walls. Eric didn’t care. He still stalked forward, backing Ambrose up to the very edge, his heels teetering off the edge. Rain soaked the two, Eric’s suit clinging to his chest, the white shirt becoming see-through, showing off the far too many scars etched into the ash gray skin. Yellow eyes glared at Ambrose, who for once, looked panicked with a sword pointed directly at his throat. “You remember yet?” Last night I had the strangest dream of all The world was dark red, fire roaring all around the two. The throne looked giant compared to Eric, and it was. Intricately decorated and surrounded by the finest things. He didn’t kneel however when the red eyed man in front of him glared down at him. He’d never kneel. He wasn’t born to kneel. And somewhere, two decades ago, a castle roared up in flames. Everything burned except a cradle, where an infant cried, and rocked. The baby’s eyes opened, a bright yellow, contrasting against the dark room, the dark world. It was 3:33 AM. It was only fitting. The devil’s hour.

“A nephilim has come into being.” These, are your greatest hits.

#sunsets on the evil eye #sotee #sotee eric #sotee absinthe #sotee ambrose #demons tw #blood tw #murder tw #repetition tw

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onwesterlywinds · 3 years

Text

Raised Glasses

Content warning for brief allusions to physical and emotional abuse.

Early one evening, well before the sun had set over the city above, Ashe was struck with an urge to go deep into the limestone quarry. She entered from a hidden archway along the city's outermost walls and walked down for nearly a bell until she found the place she sought: past Aster's open sigil-gate, past a thin tunnel where the underground wind blew like whispers, into a winding crevasse along which someone had posted standing torches. That otherwise featureless path led her on and on, until at last the walls widened outward and the ceiling rose up for yalms above her and she stood in a vast subterranean chamber: an abandoned workers’ station.

Dozens of others had already gathered, bringing with their work a flurry of motion and purpose, and others still entered in behind her. Little by little they assembled an entire market - the market, the Undercity's traveling venue for wares of all kinds. Ashe watched the procession of vendors and buyers from a distance as the hall slowly filled with color and noise and activity to rival the city above. As more of the Undercity began to trickle in, merchants and musicians and ruffians and a great many others, she contented herself with wandering about, intent on nothing except sating the fateful urge that had driven all of them there to begin with. Soon each booth and stall sat attended, except for one: a chest-high bar carved directly out of the limestone wall, with a fully stocked shelf behind it but no one present to make or serve drinks.

Ashe made her way around the market three times before taking up a shift.

The only woman seated at the bar raised an eyebrow at her coming but hailed her all the same. "Grand Steward."

"You can call me Ashelia," she said. "What's your name?"

"Jas." She was a warrior of some sort, with a full bandolier of weapons draped across each shoulder. "I'll take whatever's in the barrel at your right."

Ashe lowered a glass to the tap, and it filled with a dark, heady beer. She passed it back to Jas and Jas accepted the drink with a nod, and though the woman offered no coin in exchange, Ashe somehow knew their transaction to be fulfilled.

Other orders came in, one by one, as varied as the people asking for them. Rarely did she recognize the drinks: most visitors called for a specific liquor or else a name scrawled on a bottle's label. Before long, she fell into a rhythm of shaking and tapping and pouring and serving, until the line that had stretched out from the bar slowly settled into a small and comfortable crowd, a lethargic gathering to contrast with the market's stream of people.

"Where'd you learn to tend bar, Grand Steward?" asked a broad-shouldered man with a salt-and-pepper beard.

"At the Sandsea," she said, then added, "The Riskbreakers' headquarters in Thanalan." Even now, she had little idea if her company's deeds were widely known throughout the Undercity. "Back when the XIVth Legion were setting up their castra all over Eorzea, we advertised ourselves as a tavern. It brought in a stream of adventurers, and it let us keep an ear to the ground for any imperial movements."

"Did it work?" piped up a gruff voice.

"It did." She handed off a whiskey drink to the speaker - a woman with one eye, a woman who had passed her in the Ala Mhigan Quarter only a day or so before. The woman saluted her but held on a moment for her to continue the rest of her story. "Precious few knew of us as anything more than a bar for clan hunters until we stormed the Praetorium and took down van Baelsar." Her mention of the erstwhile viceroy's defeat was met with a brief but hearty chorus of victory cries. "Even then, our reputation was so well-hidden that many Eorzeans didn't make the connection that the Riskbreakers of the Sandsea and the Riskbreakers harrying the Garleans were one and the same until much later."

Someone in a hooded robe shook their head, gesturing languidly with a hand already gripping a flask. "Explains how you practiced. Not where you learned."

Ashe rolled her eyes in what she hoped was a good-natured expression but took the correction in stride, tapping another pint of Jas's choice for a Roegadyn soldier who'd appeared at the opposite end of the bar. "Where else but Limsa Lominsa? I started by watching the barkeeps' hands, to make sure they weren't about to snatch up my purse. By the time I became a proper adventurer, getting dragged around to every backwater alehouse in Vylbrand, it was simply a force of habit."

"Who was Ludo?"

The voice was Stella's, tucked away somewhere in the crowd. Sure enough, Ashe espied a flash of white hair, though the girl crouched as if to avoid further detection.

All other chatter slowly died, and her chest went tight, even as she reached to pour out a glass of absinthe without being prompted. Something had shifted with the speaking of his name, as if he came to life so very briefly - as if she could make out his thin, pale face among the crowd and the whole of the Undercity knew him as well as she did for everything he had done. She did not dare halt the movements of her hands; as the glass stopper clinked against its decanter, the sound resonated amid the lull in conversation that had settled over their shadowy corner of the market.

"Ludo was my former partner," she replied at last. She could not find Stella again, and so she spoke to the person in the hooded cloak. "He and I created the Riskbreakers together."

"Did he die?" asked another of the children. They spoke the word without fear or sadness, as had many of the other young ones she'd known in the desert.

"Yes," she said, her voice a little firmer. "Ludo died. His ashes are buried far away on the other side of these mountains, in a place called Coerthas."

Somehow, the persisting silence that fell in response was worse than the question that had preceded it. And so she took up another pair of wine glasses, poured a hearty serving of red into each, and found her voice again, with a crowd of watching eyes upon her.

"He was... special, and charming, easy to admire and confide in - though he so rarely shared his emotions, or even his goals." It was such a facile thing to say in the Undercity, a place where hardly anyone spoke their intentions aloud. "But once we opened up to each other, I couldn't imagine being without him. Even when he lied, or kept things from me, or gambled with our safety."

Someone standing at the market's grocery lobbed an object that was brightly colored and vaguely grenade-shaped; her onlookers ducked their heads and she caught the lime effortlessly, unthinkingly, in her palm. She took up a knife at the counter, rolled the flat of its blade across the surface, and dug in deep to squeeze as much juice as she could into a shallow glass before carving up its rind.

"Twenty years," she said, watching the last bits of pulp fall over the ice. "The first person in twenty years whom I'd learned to trust, implicitly. But he coveted power over our life together. Over me. I suppose I'd always known it, deep down - I just hadn't wanted to believe it until the truth was staring me in the face."

She topped off the glass of lime juice with a rum that so perfectly matched the gold his eyes had been, and her chest went tight at the memory of those eyes meeting hers for the last time: her jaw trapped under his crushing grip, as he promised her power enough to fell the Empire.

When she slammed the drink down upon the bar, not a soul moved to claim it.

"Promise me," said Ashe, meeting the gaze of the closest of the children - a little girl in a patchwork dress. "Promise me you won't stay with someone if they hurt you, no matter who they are or how much you love them. Find a friend, go somewhere new, and don't let them get near you again."

The girl nodded, and her crowd of compatriots swiftly followed suit. Only Stella's face scrunched up in a childish display of pensiveness.

Jas cleared her throat, and Ashe gladly took the cue to refill her beer. "Anyway, the lot of you should meet my husband." The relatively offhanded quip earned her more laughs from the crowd than she'd expected. "I mean it. He remembers far more of this place than I do, on account of his being six moons older than me, and the stories he tells aren't half as morose as mine. But don't tell him I told you so; it'll go straight to his head."

The conversation shifted like a welcome breeze, and still the glass of rum remained on the limestone bar while its ice slowly thawed. Only when the crowd dispersed hours later along with the rest of the market did the last remaining patron, a stocky woman with her light hair tied up in a high bun, down it in a single gulp before hastening off.

Once relieved of that final burden, it was enough for Ashe to bask in the afterglow of good conversation and a job well done. She doubted she had any obligation to clean up the bar behind her - and many of the bar's guests had simply taken their glasses with them - but she nonetheless lingered for long enough to stack the used dishes into a single empty washbin and wipe a damp rag across the countertop, just as she would have done were she at home in the Sandsea. Stella hopped up onto the crate where Jas had been sitting and watched Ashe's movements on occasion, though mostly she carried out her own private listening. When Ashe ended her shift, Stella followed her closely out of the limestone quarry.

"I'd appreciate it if you were to warn me the next time you do that in public, you know," said Ashe. "It's rather impolite to air someone's innermost thoughts when they least expect it."

Stella gasped. "S-S-Sorry."

When the girl looked up at her, Ashe cast what she hoped was a reassuring, if teasing, smile; she gave no words of affirmation but tousled Stella's white curls, earning her a little giggle in response. Together they traipsed their way back upward and eastward to the areas under the Noble District, until Ashe came to a fork in the path and found that Stella had already vanished from her side.

#Ashelia Riot #Stella #Understory

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robinrunsfiction · 4 years

Note

hi! just wanted to say i really love your writing and i had an idea that isn't enough for a fic but could inspire you? like, what if gerard is dating y/n and she really likes to dance so he can kinda guess what music she's listening to on her earphones depending on the moves? anyway, thank you for sharing your art!

Just Like My Favorite Scenes

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anon Word Count: ~700 Author’s Note: A note about the songs in this fic. The first one I picked was I Knew You When by Marianas Trench because it’s next to impossible not to dance to this song, even when you’re out running (trust me). IDKHow was the first song that came up when I put my phone on shuffle, same with Midsummer, which is a Wisconsin band you all should check out. And Early Sunsets is a reference to a post I made a while back about wanting to slow dance with Gerard to that song.

From the moment you opened your eyes that morning, you felt motivated. It was a rare feeling, especially on a weekend morning, but when you noticed Gerard was still sound asleep next to you, you decided to spring into action.

Slipping out of the bed and into your slippers, you shut the door behind you as you headed into the living room of your small apartment. Grabbing your earbuds out of her bag, you turned on some music and got to work. As the opening notes of Absinthe by iDKHow started, you picked up the blanket you and Gerard had been cuddled under while watching a movie the night before. You had fallen asleep and he tried to pick you up to carry you to bed, but the blanket fell and tangled around his feet and he almost tripped, waking you up. You laughed softly remembering the look on his face, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance that his romantic gesture had been foiled.

You picked up the bowls the ice cream had been in and made your way to the kitchen. Just like the bowls, all the other dirty dishes that had accumulated from the day before were waiting in the sink.

As you started washing dishes, Wonder by Midsummer came on next. You tried not to hum along, as you didn't want to wake up Gerard. You had made them dinner the night before, but had neglected to clean up as you cooked, and amassed a large pile of pots and pans that you had to deal with now. You rolled your eyes, remembering how you thought to yourself 'this is future-(YN)'s problem.'

The song changed again, now playing I Knew You When by Marianas Trench as you started drying the dishes so you could put them away. You couldn't help shake your hips and as the song started to build into the chorus, you were fully dancing, arms raised above your head, dish towel in hand, flying around. Then the song dropped into the quiet of the bridge and you slowed your moves.

"I Knew You When?" You heard Gerard say from behind you and you jumped.

"Oh my god, you startled me! Did I wake you up?"

He smiled and shook his head, although he still looked half asleep. "Nah, I just rolled over and you were gone. Was I right?"

The song was almost over at that point but you nodded and grinned. "Yea, how'd you know?"

"It's the only song you dance to like that."

"Oh," you laughed. "Wait, how often are you watching me dance?"

"You do it more than you think. It's one of the reasons I love you."

"Well why don't you join in sometime?" You said tossing the towel on the counter and walking over to him.

He shrugged. “Because I’m a bad dancer, it’s better to just watch you.”

“I’ll find a song we can dance to,” you said scrolling through your phone for a while. “Oh! I got it!” You smiled as you took out one of your earbuds and passed it to him before pressing play.

Gerard laughed as he heard the opening notes. “This is what you want to dance to? Early Sunsets Over Monroeville?”

“It’s romantic… in a zombie apocalypse way,” you shrugged as you draped your arms over his shoulders, and his hands found your waist. You began to sway together to the music and Gerard smiled down at you.

“You’re so cute,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead and you hummed contentedly.

“What do you want me to make for breakfast?” You asked when the song was over, but he was still holding you tight.

“You made me dinner last night, let’s go out for brunch,” Gerard suggested.

“Mmm, works for me. Let’s go get dressed, I’m ready to go get some iced coffee,” you grinned.

“Hang on,” Gerard said without letting go of your waist. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours and you leaned your body in against his. “Ok, now we can go get ready,” he said with his lopsided smile.

#Anon #gerard way x reader #gerard way fan fic #gerard way fan fiction #gerard way imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction

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mnthpprt · 4 years

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Chapter 24: Blame It On The Juice

We finally arrive at the tavern and take a seat at a small table near the bar. Arthur is the only one to remain standing up, and he leans closer so I can hear him over the chatter.

“First round’s on me, darling. What would you like?” he asks. I ponder for a moment before answering.

“I’ve always wanted to try absinthe.” He nods, and looks over at Theo.

“Whiskey for me, half water.”

A few minutes later he returns, balancing three glasses between his hands, and proceeds to set them down on the table, careful not to spill any of them. Outside, it has begun to pour like there’s no tomorrow.

“Pernod Fils for the lady,” he says, imitating a waiter, “and whiskey for the ratbag.” Theo punches his arm, scowling, and sips his drink, making me laugh. Judging by the amount of teasing and insults between these two, they could either be good friends or truly hate each other. I know it is the former, because they seem to spend a lot of time together. They even walk their dogs at the same time every morning, and they do so willingly.

I take a small sip of the pearly green liquid, and am surprised by the sweet taste of anise and fennel in the drink.

“Yo, this is good,” I point out, satisfied. I lift my glass when I notice Arthur doing the same, and Theo begrudgingly joins in.

“To the green fairy, may she bless our dear Anaïs for the first time!” toasts the writer, holding back a laugh. I follow in with my own comedic announcement.

“To the Salon des Refusés du Salon des Refusés!” I say, jokingly, referring to Theo’s exhibition. The groundbreaking art I saw there would have been criticized even by the rejects of this time. “And to your and Vincent’s success, of course!”

“That, I can get behind,” Theo chuckles. “To you idiots.” He punctuates his covertly affectionate statement by taking a gulp of whisky, and Arthur and I follow suit. “So, hondje, you know about art. What is it like in your time?”

I am taken aback by the question. I don’t really know where to begin.

“Well... For starters, it’s incredibly different. To understand it one needs to know the history behind it, you know? Like, what happened between now and then for it to get to that point,” I explain, pausing to take another sip of absinthe. Theo leans forward on his chair, his blue eyes piercing me with interest. “I guess the main movement that started everything would be Dadaism. Do you know about World War One?” Theo shakes his head.

“One? By Jove, there are more?!” Arthur exclaims. I nod, my brows knitted together. If he lived through the first one, the Great War, I am concerned about how he might react if I continue. He seems to want to know more, so I keep talking.

“Arthur, if I remember correctly you died a few years before the second one. What was it, 1920 something?”

“1930,” he corrects me.

“Well, the Second World War started in 1939. It lasted for about six years, and it was brutal. But that’s not the point of this conversation.” I turn to Theo. “So, as you can tell by the name, the First World War was, well... massive. Pretty much all of Europe was involved and severely affected, both by the unprecedented death toll and the poverty that came after. People suffered while the rich clung to what they had, and the art world became increasingly inaccessible. You’ve seen yourself how conservative the elite can be when it comes to their precious culture.” He agrees with a nod. “So a movement emerged in response to this traditionalism, which some artists deemed unacceptable in a world where all of the rules had seemingly been broken already, and devastatingly so. I don’t know where the name came from, but Dadaism represents all the nonsense, everything that is irrational and ugly and primal. What these people were making was basically anti-art. Instead of it being aesthetically pleasing, their work strived to create a reaction in the viewer, to make them think.” I pause to drink again, and glance at Arthur. He knows what I’m talking about, he lived through it.

“And what does it look like?” Theo asks. I laugh.

“Oof, good question. It can look like anything, from sculptures made of random objects piled together to drawings and prints... More than anything, Dadaism was a concept, an ideology. It established that art should be reactionary, and not necessarily for the pleasure of the viewer. This became the basis for what in my time we call ‘conceptual art’, which is basically anything that makes a statement without it being explicit in the piece.”

“Like a riddle?” Arthur asks. He has already finished his glass of whisky.

“Something like that,” I chuckle. “But not always. One of the most outrageous ones I can remember is this man, Piero Manzoni. In the 60s... the 1960s, that is, he produced a series of cans labeled as ‘Artist’s Shit’, supposedly filled with... well, his own shit. It was meant as a critique of the art world at the time.” Theo’s eyes widen, and I hear Arthur let out a boisterous laugh. “Apparently one of his friends said that they were actually filled with plaster, but no one really knows for sure, because they’re too valuable to be opened. I think one of them was auctioned for like 300.000 euros.”

“Euros?” Theo asks after sipping his whisky, trying to recover from the surprise.

“Oh, right, that’s a new thing,” I remember. “So after that Second World War I mentioned before, a bunch of countries in Europe created a coalition, to protect the peace, and all that. And then, around the time I was born, it became a proper union and they changed the money, so we all use euros now. Well, then. Then?” I take a big sip of absinthe and savor it for a moment, frustrated with my own tangled words. “Ugh, time travel is so confusing. Anyway, one of those cans is worth, like, 100 million francs in ‘right now’ money, I think.”

Theo chokes on his drink. Arthur is just staring at me with his mouth hanging open, completely incredulous at my nonchalant statement.

“That is absolutely preposterous,” he finally says. I shrug.

“I guess that proves Manzoni’s point, doesn’t it?” I down what’s left of the absinthe and set the glass in the middle of the table. Arthur scoffs.

“No, no, she’s right.” I am surprised to hear Theo agree with me. He looks rather impressed. “Collectors will buy anything with the right name attached to it. Artist’s shit,” he laughs. “That’s brilliant.”

Maybe it’s his adorable dimples, or maybe it’s the alcohol running through my veins, but I have the sudden urge to mock him.

“Wow, who knew you had a sense of humor, knabbeltje!” I put emphasis on the word, causing him to blush, which subsequently makes me giggle. Arthur puts his fist up, laughing, and I bump it. “Ayyy, you learnt it!”

Theo gets up abruptly, and for a moment I fear I have offended him, but I relax when I see him walk towards the bar. He soon comes back with only two glasses, and leaves again to get his own. I sip my new drink, also containing the green liquor from before, and let out a little moan.

“This drink slaps,” I declare, and Arthur tilts his head in confusion.

“Slaps? Gods, Anaïs, it’s like you’re speaking an entirely different language.” I laugh and proceed to tell him about the ‘snack’ thing, how Theo called me a ‘knabbeltje’ and I took it as a compliment, so now he can’t use it on me anymore. Arthur laughs too when I finish the story. “Oh my, is that why he was blushing? Here I was thinking you two might have- Ow!”

I elbow him before he can finish the sentence, in part because I don’t need to hear it, and in part because I see Theo approaching. When he sits down, Arthur’s face lights up with an idea. I wonder what he’s plotting.

“Let’s play a game,” he says. “Bet I can deduce something about each of you. If I’m right, you drink, and if I’m wrong, I drink. Anaïs,” he turns to me. “There is something between you and Leonardo. You two have been in an awfully good mood lately.” I blush and sip my drink. “Ha! I knew it! Our sweet darling and our dear friend have been basket making in secret,” he exclaims. Judging by his face, I assume that’s an euphemism for sex.

“We have not!” I smack his arm. Although that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to. “Okay, my turn. Theo!” I choose loudly, pointing my finger at the art dealer. “You act so tough because you’re protective of Vincent and want to be taken seriously so nobody messes with him.”

Theo drinks before clearing his throat, and then turns to his friend.

“The reason you’re being so annoying lately is because you’re jealous of Leonardo,” he states. Arthur simply leans back on his chair with a smirk.

“Drink,” he commands. Theo obliges. “You have already scoured this bar for my next potential conquest, and you disapprove of all the options.” Theo drinks again.

“Is that what you do when you’re not pestering Sebastian for more coffee?” I laugh. Then a thought occurs to me. “How do they not find out about...? You know,” I ask, tapping my canine with a fingernail. I can’t risk saying it out loud in a place so crowded.

“They simply look like love bites, dear,” Arthur winks. “And they are, in a sense.”

“Huh.” I tilt my head, trying to imagine what that would be like, but I fail and move on to the game. “You sleep around so much to try to forget your guilt.”

Finally, he drinks. I don’t know what he feels guilty about, but I could recognize that emotion on anyone. However, I don’t ask any further. I do not want to pry.

He changes the topic by pulling a deck of cards from his pocket. I guess he does not like losing at his own game.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikemen vampire theo #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp arthur

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dramioneasks · 4 years

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HP FESTS: DramioneFanfictionWriters (Part 3)

Never Apologising For Our Wild 2019:

Fractured by MrsRen - M, 3 chapters - She's writhing on the floor, spitting in a Bellatrix Lestrange's face, when it happens. Hermione Granger's mind fractures amidst the torture, and when she wakes, friends and family find that she is not who she used to be. In the middle of a war, Hermione thinks she's exactly who she needs to be.

Ninety-Three Percent Stardust by otterlyardent - G, one-shot - Often, when a person falls for someone, they can’t remember the exact moment it all changed. But that wasn’t the case for Draco Malfoy. The moment had forever been emblazoned in his memory.

Dear Shakespeare by msmerlin - M, 3 chapters - When the fates bring together two opposites, will the love they have be able to overcome the years of obstacles that follow? Seventeen years of relationships ups and downs told through a series of vignettes.

Coiled, Falling by bionically - not rated, one-shot - She's locked in a tower when he finds her, bewitched and imprisoned.

Absinthe by TheMourningMadam - E, one-shot - Hermione becomes ensnared by Draco Malfoy, despite the fact that he is a taken man.

Magical To You by fandomfairytales - T, one-shot - based on the Nikita Gill poem/prompt: she would rather be magical to you, than belong to you.Follows Draco coming to understand such a concept and how it applies to one Hermione Granger."Hermione was in his kitchen, her cheeks rosy, the heat of the ovens toasting the air, humming along with the house elves as they worked; Completely out of her element and making herself at home at the breakfast bar, she was an utter paradox, all Draco could do was stare. It would have been less surprising to find a unicorn or some other rare magical creature there… Later, he would wonder if perhaps she was one, in a class all her own."

My Poetry by mcal - T, one-shot - Draco has been looking forward to this quiet moment with Hermione all week. A short stand alone written for the DFW Nikita Poem Challenge. Dramione. EWE

The Way They Leave by tofadeawayagain - T, one-shot - After leaving an emotionally abusive long-term relationship with Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger struggles to remember how to be herself once again. An experiment/sketch of the state of mind caused by emotional abuse and the healing process.

Show Me Your Soul by Disenchantedglow - T, one-shot - Show me The most damaged Parts of your soul, And I will show you How it still shines like gold -Nikita Gill

Demons by sweetmusings - T, one-shot - Hermione is far from okay. Can she be saved before she slips under? Furthermore, does she want to be? Inspired by Nikita Gill's 'Monsters'.

Fixing Damaged Souls by LissaDream - G, one-shot - Response to the Never Apologizing For Our Wild challenge held by Dramione Fanfiction Writer's FB group.

Wildfire by In_Dreams - M, one-shot - They said she was fire incarnate. And the smallest sliver of hope was kept alive by the spark of a borrowed ember she had implanted in his soul. A Dramione one-shot inspired by "Wild Embers" by Nikita Gill.

Tough Love by BiscuitsForPotter - M, 4 chapters - Three bad relationships. Two times her heart is broken. One time it grows stronger. Hermione Granger always seems to choose the wrong men to date.

The Devourer by ravenslight - M, one-shot - Darkness breeds darkness. In the aftermath of the war and amidst Voldemort’s reign, two depraved souls find solace in the dance of their demons.

Burning Skies by PartyLines - T, one-shot - Sometimes a change of heart comes just a little too late. Or: Hermione's late night letters to someone.

When You Are Ashes Remember This by perilous_circumstance - M, one-shot - The Ministry has decreed therapy for the returning 8th years & it’s going just about as well as one would expect.

Under and of the Stars by Lilian_Silver - T, one-shot - Hermione is in her 8th Year, attending a party in the Ravenclaw common room. It would be a lovely night of letting loose for once in her life, if not for the presence of a certain Slytherin for whom she has been harboring some very confused feelings.

Majestic Lionesses, Vibrant Birds, and Eight Billion Human Beings by Felgia_Starr - M, one-shot - Draco tries to prove to Hermione that soulmates are real but ends up showing her the world instead.

Broken by CourtingInsanity - M, one-shot - She is a broken thing under the psychopathic torture of his crazy aunt. As he watches, Draco reflects on the things he has fixed in his young life, and wonders at the possibility of mending Granger.

Spark Hearts by Abroma - E, one-shot - He doesn't ask her to stay; he never does. She wouldn't, anyway.

Scars by LadyKenz347 - not rated, one-shot - For DFW'S: Never Apologizing For Our Wild ChallengeInspired by Nikita Gills "Scars

Pretty in White by MrsMast - G, one-shot - Today is Hermione and Draco’s wedding day. Will love bloom?

DFW Birthday GOGO Fest 2020:

A House in the Country by BoredRavenvlaw620 - T, WIP -“That’s it, just no. I’ve done my duty to the Wizarding world. I gave up my childhood, I gave up my dreams, and for what… a tiny cubicle in which I put the Ministry stamp on endless permits. No more. I quit. Effective immediately. I think you’ll find I have ample vacation saved up. I’ll owl human resources on where they can send my check.”She spent her childhood fighting a war she didn't start. Now life is passing her by. What will she find when she makes choices not based off expectation?

Love of My Life by MykEsprit - T, one-shot - A surprising revelation at their anniversary party sends Hermione reeling.

Opposites Attract by HollyBrianne - G, one-shot - Draco and Hermione share a hotel room and take turns having issues with the other's sleepwear.

Caught Red-Handed by ruthy4vrsmoaked - E, one-shot - During a special kind of school reunion, Draco Malfoy catches Hermione Granger while she's reading an erotic romance novel.

Between the Trees by NuclearNik - M, WIP - When the tides of war change quickly, Draco makes a split-second decision and steals the freedom of the only person he still cares about, desperate to protect them.Hermione Granger becomes prisoner to a reluctant captor, locked away in the ruins of the one place she'd ever truly felt at home.Trust does not come easy for either of them.

Better Late Than Never by niffizzle - M, one-shot - As if the anxiety leading up to his mother's trial wasn't already bad enough, it deepens once the Wizengamot denies Draco's request to temporarily leave Hogwarts to attend. His life only gets more frustrating when the aftermath of a Quidditch accident forces him to interact with the one witch he's been ignoring all year — stirring the question of why she was present at the match in the first place.

Simple Words by dreamsofdramione (Bugggghead) - M, one-shot - It was easy to figure him out all over again.

oh god, i think i'm falling in love with you again by Felgia_Starr - E, one-shot - Hermione and Draco are forced to share a bed when there's miscommunication within the hotel staff and the hotel is fully-booked. This is a terrible idea because they both blame each other for their breakup and have been throwing passive aggressive remarks towards the other ever since they arrived in the hotel. Not to mention, they're still kind of madly in love with each other.

To Return by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - Returning to Hogwarts was the hardest thing that Hermione had ever done, but the only person it was harder for is Draco. Friendship or more can bloom in the darkest of hours. Forgiveness is not one action, but many.

Future Imperfect by LightofEvolution - T, one-shot - Weird things can happen in the Department of Mysteries. And Hermione and her partner are about to find out how weird exactly. Or maybe not weird - but foreshadowing?

Ten Months by grace_lou_freebush - T, one-shot - While Dumbledore may have appeared completely busy managing the Order of the Phoenix and hunting down Horcruxes with Harry, he managed to keep a sharp, concerned eye on Draco. When Draco was on the verge of fixing the Vanishing Cabinet before Dumbledore was prepared, the headmaster assigned Hermione a task. She was to go back in time and stall Draco, any means necessary."She was seriously considering doing something categorically insane. She wanted to reveal herself to him.Christmas break was upcoming, and she'd been essentially alone for three months. Knowing the holiday was near made her yearn for companionship. She felt like she knew a side of Draco that he kept hidden away while outside the Room. He was clever and noble and steadfast and scared and handsome and – and she wanted to reveal herself to him."

Fowl Games by Pureblood_Muggle - T, one-shot - Hermione never believed in Divination - and she wasn't going to start now, just because Luna *saw* something.

Journal Entries by TriDogMom - E, one-shot - Draco is in a meeting and gets a naughty message from Hermione.

Ocean Views by MrsMast - G, one-shot - Hermione had some time off work, and Draco so happened to be at the same beach. When they run into each other, will things go how they expect?

Research, Destruction, and Love by highlyintelligentblonde - G, one-shot - How Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger finally got together after knowing each other for 10 years, being friends for five, and being coworkers for 3. Told from an insider perspective ;)

The Orphan by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - A couple torn apart. A soldier at war. A lost child.

Revelations by LuxLouise - not rated, one-shot - Hermione makes a startling discovery.

20 Questions by savedprincess85 - T, one-shot - Hermione rescues Draco from a bad date. What happens during a game of 20 questions?

A Walk in the Park by IRisEaGLeS - G, one-shot - Hermione Granger is stressed, but then she meets a cute little cherub at her favorite park. And like every cherub in history, this little one decides to play matchmaker.

Stake Me Out Tonight, I Don't Want To Let You Go 'Til We Catch This Guy by fandomfairytales - E, WIP - Written for the DFW Birthday GOGO Fest 2020Based on the following prompt tags from HighlyIntelligentBlonde: Co-Workers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Fluff, HEATitle courtesy of Charles Boyle (NINE-NINE!!) because I accidentally gave this a slight B99 vibeoOoPartners for more than a few years, Draco and Hermione have captured more than just their fair share of criminals on behalf of the Auror Department, they've captured each other's hearts: taking each other down is another matter entirely...However, Hermione Granger never met a problem she couldn't solve; armed with a plan and a three-day stakeout, what's the best that could happen? Strap yourself in, I'm back for more; with plenty of fluff, soft smut, silliness, Dramione being idiots in love and giving the DMLE betting pool a constant source of fresh romance gossip and entertainment... Oh and a case/perp that has literally no bearing on the plot

Starling by floorcoaster - T, one-shot - Someone's been helping Hermione with her work and she's not sure what to think.

DFW Tropes Fest: Double Trouble 2020:

Felix Mal Felicis by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger came back to Hogwarts as Head Girl. Unfortunately, her counterpart - Head Boy - was Draco Malfoy. To make the year even more difficult, they've been partnered together to brew a rather difficult potion. Felix Mal Felicis - Bad Luck Potion. It's difficulty lies in the brewing process - bad lucks seems to always happens while it's being brewed. Hence why it's not often made. Hermione discovers just how much bad luck she can handle.

Finishing Lessons by Seakays - T, WIP - When Hermione Granger finds out she is the illegitimate pureblood daughter of two members of the Sacred Twenty Eight, she needs a tutor to help her navigate the old customs and expectations thrust upon her.Enter Draco Malfoy.

Somebody I used to Know by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - Hermione didn’t know why she was even here. Why did Ginny always suggested things like this? But it was worth a shot, if the worst happened she could simply forget about and move on. She had a fairly happy life, but her love life left a lot to be desired.If Pansy could find someone for Harry why couldn’t she do the same for her?

Worth It by crochetaway - M, one-shot - Hermione is sent up to Hogwarts to investigate instances of Dark Magic. But digging to the bottom of this mystery isn't the only thing she finds up there.

riddle me this by megamegaturtle - G, one-shot - Their fingers touch when Draco hands her the paper and Hermione's heart almost jumps out of her chest.The note reads: How do you spell ‘cute boy’ with only two letters? -Riddle Me ThisHermione finds herself grinning. “Cutie. Q-T. That’s the answer to the riddle. You’re a cutie, Malfoy.”[the one where someone leaves Draco Malfoy riddles to solve from the local coffee shop's community board and he enlists Hermione Granger for help.](Written for 2020 DFW Trope Fest: Double Trouble)

The Holly and The Ivy by dirtymudblood - M, 3 chapters - “Actually,” Hermione interrupted, “I’m so glad because… because I’ve been seeing someone too and I was going to ask how you’d feel about me bringing them to the Burrow.” Ron’s jaw dropped and Hermione’s fingers tingled. Take that, Ron. “Who?” He shouted, bewildered. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

The Soulmate Test by ThebeMoon - M, one-shot - Draco Malfoy’s life after the War has lapsed into a steamy round of indulgence between the Manor and Knockturn Alley. A highly eligible bachelor despite his dark past, Draco is used to scheming witches glamouring “DLM” on their arms and claiming to be his soulmate in accordance with ancient magic. But he never expected Hermione Granger to be one of them.

The Muggle's Wise Daughter by Mariana_Monteverde - G, 2 chapters - A Dramione Fairytale AU.Draco is a young King, one of his ministers has betrayed him, and the man's only salvation is the ability of his daughter solving the King's Riddle...

Reverse by kifiyathewriter - T, one-shot - When a number of his patients begin to die from a mysterious ailment, Draco Malfoy goes on a mission to seek out the source and unwittingly uncovers a dark truth.

You, Me, and all my other Figments by Shamione - T, one-shot - Hermione sighed dejectedly, glancing over a stone facade that had once plagued her nightmares: Malfoy Manor. A home that, at one point, had been her sole source of anguish. It was now a place that bore a new level of melancholy, though. A place that reminded Hermione Granger that Draco Malfoy was gone.He'd vanished and left no clues toward his whereabouts. Nothing, that is, until the Manor's wards were dropped. A rusty amulet is the single shred of evidence that could shed light on Hermione's once boyfriend.A new scar, an awful date, and an image of the man she'd desperately missed are the only clues to help her find her missing love.

How the Omega Was Won by Amebb42 - M, one-shot - When Hermione presents as an Omega, she is appalled to discover that the Alphas usually fight amongst themselves and whoever is strongest takes the Omega. The Weasley twins help her come up with a way to "try out" the local Alphas and choose for herself. They might have left out a few details of where she will find herself within this new product of theirs.

RX by Starryar - M, one-shot - STOP! Did you know this one shot was expanded into a multi-chap? Check out 'RX - The Full Story' for additional content! ------ Written for the Double Trouble Fest. Thank you Dramione Fanfiction Writers for hosting this! Assigned Tropes: Meet Ugly & Prison AU. Please mind the tags. ------ Draco Lucius Malfoy was stuck in-between enjoy life and rebuilding it. Should he throw his life away on the drugs, or should he create an honorable legacy for the Malfoy name? Perhaps he already knew the answer, but was putting off responsibility as long as he could. Hermione Jean Granger had been hit hard after the war. She didn't qualify for the order of Merlin and she had no family due to her memory charms being too great. The war veteran decided that Healer School was her best bet at undoing her own charms, but the price for education was never cheap. Two days in one cell and the two once enemies may find unexpected help in each other - if they don't get charged with murder first.

This fest is ongoing.

#dramionefanfictionwriters #Fests/Exchanges/Challenges

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fics-not-tragedies · 4 years

Text

In a Week: Chapter 18 🌲

I think this is the most funny chapter I’ve ever written in my entire life and I think it’s the only one fully funny and sweet in this piece of fanfiction.

Words: 2122; Warnings: none; Summary: Chilling in a hot tub with Flo Andrew decides to make a little fun of them both.

Hozier tag list:

@letoursilencebreaktonight; @angelpeachamber; @sgt-morgan; @julessbrown;

Tuesday, 5:25pm

“You reminded me that I should send my Mum some flowers” he declared.

Flo smiled.

“Do you get on with her?”

“My Mum? Yes, we’re quite close…” he considered his next words, approached them with caution then decided to say them anyway, despite the potential damage they could cause, “And she’d like you, Flo. She’d really like you…”

He tried to picture it, allowed himself the daydream as she smiled back at him softly. In a different world, back home. Bringing Flo to meet his parents knowing he was so sure of her. She’d be worrying about what dress she was wearing, would worry she overdone it with the flowers and the dessert she spent all week practicing, but his Mum would love it, bring her in for one of her killer hugs straight away. Dad would give her the same, would want to know all about her instantly, would love her stories about their adventures. Andrew was sure she’d tell it all better than he could anyway.

“Is your Mum a control freak like me then?” Flo sighed, frustrated by the lack of reality in the conversation now. As incredible as it was to imagine it all, being the girl he decided he wanted to bring home, she didn’t allow herself to wallow in it, for too long it was too cruel.

“Hmm… maybe a little…” he nodded, still beaming from the vision he’d created for himself, “And you were right about the flowers… I just finished another tour, em, that’s why I’m here for the week.”

Flo thought about asking what he was planning to do next, but part of her didn’t want to know, didn’t want to be subconsciously tracking his every move. What if she’d turn up to one of his gigs in the future, if there still was one for her, bustle her way to front row, get pushed against the barriers by the huge crowd, nod her head to the tracks she knew, hope he’d make his way down to the front and spot her. But what if he didn’t look at her in the same soft way he did now? What if there was someone else waiting for him at the side of the stage? Or worse yet, what if he’d ignored her or didn’t even recognize her?

No, she decided. It’d be better not to know, to avoid it as much as she could.

“Do you like performing?” She asked instead.

“Well, yes. I feel like I’m only myself on stage, but, em, it’s really exciting when I see all those faces screaming my words back at me. Is fantastic. Sometimes they know them better than I do.”

“Must be overwhelming in front of all those people” she shuddered and added: “I’d hate it.”

Andrew chuckled in delight at her wittiness, preparing himself for the next question he could already see twitching in her smile.

“Got a pre-show ritual? Couple of prostitutes? A bottle of absinthe?”

“Not quite” he mumbled, “We’d fancy a goat slaughter, but no venue can pull that off. We only do a small chant…”

“Slaughtering a goat sounds quite eccentric…” she teased and he screwed his nose up at her.

Tuesday, 5:30pm

There was a sudden, loud click at the door and both Andrew and Flo turned their heads towards the sound, so accustomed to being alone with each other. Another couple entered the small room in their bathing suits, both smiling until they realized it was partly occupied. She was tall and thin, had a pointy nose and dark eyes and he was shorter, a little rounder in the middle, had a face that looked permanently unamused. From the way they were clinging onto each other, they were clearly on some kind of romantic getaway. Though Flo couldn’t draw much from them straight away, the disappointment on their faces was stark. They were clearly unhappy to find another ‘couple’ in the tub, but were far too British to simply walk back out.

“Sorry, mind if we…” the woman began, “… join you…”

Flo turned her gaze to Andrew and watched him smile up at the couple just as a bright, brilliant idea, so clear on his face, occurred to him.

“It’s alright” he drawled then turned back to Flo, “We can get cozier with Hozier, can’t we, love?”

After a moment of speechlessness, her body rigid, questioning what the correct response was, Flo shot Andrew a glare like she hadn’t before.

Bastard.

She couldn’t deny that the opportunity excited her a little. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be near to him or ‘get cozier with Hozier’, rather that she knew she would have trouble resisting the temptation again with him that close to her. He looked so good and she caught onto his distinctive scent as he shifted around to make room for her. She clearly had no choice.

With an awkward shuffle she moved through the middle of the jacuzzi and sat down next to Andrew, instantly aware of him pressed close to her and how much she hated the outfit she was wearing. Not waiting for long, the couple sunk into the tub opposite them and there was an awkward stare off for a while, the four of them nodding awkwardly back and forth.

“Nice hotel, right?” Andrew said at last, cutting through the looming silence. He couldn’t resist chatting with them a little.

“Oh, yes, it’s lovely” the woman replied, her partner doing his best to relax and ignore them, his eyes closed.

Then, without warning, Andrew’s arm snaked around Flo’s body and he cupped her waist tightly with his hand. His fingertips pressed into the skin there and she almost squealed. Even under the water, his touch overwhelmed her and she felt drawn into him again, like she hadn’t learned a single thing from the last time. Despite it all, despite his face inches from hers, his neck adjacent to her lips, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Her face was deeply flushed with embarrassment, though if anyone would have asked, she’d have blamed it on the heat. It took everything she had not to react and to play along with his game as best she could.

“We’re celebrating our fifteen year anniversary this week aren’t we, honeybee?…”

Flo stared blankly ahead, couldn’t believe he was really doing this, but then again of course she could. Honeybee? When she didn’t respond he gave her waist a quick squeeze and she moaned quietly to herself before muttering a quick “mhmmmm” out loud.

The couple were clearly uninterested, didn’t care about her response, probably hadn’t even noticed the strange body language of the couple in front of them but Andrew was persistent. “We were childhood sweethearts” he proclaimed. He was showing no signs of stopping, only just able to hide how badly he wanted to laugh. His face twitched as he fought the urge, “Stole my heart right after the first round of ‘spin the bottle’, haven’t you, honeybee?”

“Awh, that’s lovely” the woman cooed, though she was mostly engrossed on the massive glittering rock on her finger, “We just got engaged” she announced, just to better Andrew’s tale, as if the wafting and waving of her hand in the last minute or so hadn’t made that clear.

“Oh, congratulations!” Flo chimed, though she could barely focus. Andrew’s fingers began to draw lazy circles into her skin. It could have soothed her in the right time and place, but right now, with so much of her exposed, with the ridiculous game he was playing, with the stupid look on his face she could catch from the corner of her eye all because he was winning, it was too much.

“Thank you!” The woman chimed, settling against her partner.

A few minutes passed, and though he wouldn’t have admitted it, Andrew was struggling too. He cursed himself for being so stupid. He couldn’t focus properly either, especially when Flo pressed herself into his side, rolled her knee up against his, moved her thigh against his just to make things more difficult for him.

“You staying here for long?” The man asked, clearly agitated by how competitive Andrew was with their fake relationship. Flo questioned whether he was asking about how long they’d be staying at the hotel or merely in the tub, desperate for peace and quiet.

“No, no. Got the kids waiting for us at home…” when neither of them responded, it just fueled him further: “Yes, little Jackie and Wilson. And he’s only three, bet he’s missing his Mummy, eh?” Another squeeze of her waist.

“Ahh, that’s lovely” the woman replied, though her responses were becoming more and more repetitive.

When the next silence came, Flo shook her head at him in constant disbelief, too dumbstruck to even come back at him with something as a challenge. Her hand suddenly on his knee made him jump, but he was still holding the happy couple facade together. With little fight from her, his own hand wandered down to her thigh. Aware of her heart beat and the wideness of his eyes, she was shaking, holding on to her control with everything she had and she turned to him in exasperation.

The quick movement of her head knocked a strand of hair into her eyes and without even questioning it, not part of his plan at all, Andrew moved it from her face with his free hand and tucked it neatly behind her ear. His touch was so delicate that she stared at him for longer than she should have and he stared right back at her. She watched him inhale deeply, his lips parting again as the breath left him.

“My little cinnamon bun…” he mumbled almost incoherently, barely blinking, “…we should go. I’m wrinkling like a prune in here…”

Flo could tell Andrew was struggling too, knew that they had to break apart now before it all came crashing down again and she took the opportunity to shimmy out of his touch and stand, forgetting the need to cover her body like she had before.

“Nice to meet you…” she mumbled to the couple, before darting out of the door, her legs like jelly, barely able to hold herself up. Behind her, Andrew said a goodbye Flo couldn’t hear then he quickly caught up to her.

Tuesday, 5:45pm

Surrounded by the noise of the pool water splashing and the cheerful chatter of the guests around them, they walked a couple of steps together in silence, strolling past the still water. Flo tried to gather her thoughts, tried to think of something to say. She was frustrated in more ways than one and needed him to know that. Her heart still pounding in her chest she suddenly turned to him, a clear intention in her eyes. Andrew was already laughing.

“Are you fucking for real?” Flo said, raising her voice as much as she was comfortable with, her teeth gritted.

“You bet I am, babe” he giggled, mocking his innocence.

“Don’t ‘babe’’ me, Andrew…” she warned, her finger jabbing him in the chest and he pouted back at her. “Oh god I could fucking…” she stopped moving, stomped her foot on the ground in frustration.

“Don’t swear, love” Andrew giggled, tears forming in his eyes at the hilarity. “It’s a fucking bad habit. What if the kids heard you?”

“Jackie and Wilson?” Flo grunted. “You have some nerve, Andrew…”

“It was funny, love…”

There it was again, love, each letter dragged out mercilessly.

Flo couldn’t take it anymore. She felt something snap inside of her and without processing it fully, she pushed Andrew backwards with all her strength towards the pool. Her hand met his chest and though he was excited at first, that wild flash of promise so clear, he soon lost his control. She wasn’t stronger than him but the element of surprise aided her and she watched as he shuffled over the edge and fell backwards, flailing pathetically until he hit the water.

Flo panicked for a split second, but Andrew resurfaced with some coughing and spluttering, his eyes trying to find Flo again. His hair was in his face, mouth agape, his eyes wide with shock.

And at that sight, Flo was satisfied, smiling and bending down slightly as she spoke to him.

“I’ll be in reception” she stated, then turned on her heel walking away from him. She made sure to wiggle her hips so that he had the perfect view of her overexposed ass as she left him and even though he couldn’t see her face, he knew the exact powerful smirk she was wearing.

Okay, Andrew decided, he deserved it.

13 notes · View notes

keanuvibe · 4 years

Text

Bodyguard (John Wick x Reader) Pt. 4

A/N: Hi! sorry im awful at uploading lol. my personal life rn is on fire and i haven’t had all the time in the world to write, but managed to pull this chapter together so :) thats coolio.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: swears, violence, a lil fluff

“So, tell me everything.” June smirked, leaning over the table towards you. You had managed to meet the girls on time, only a few minutes past twelve- thirty. The three of you got seated shortly after, and ordered your cocktails; beginning the rounds of catching up you had to do. The restaurant is diner themed, set in the 1950’s. One wall of the building was a bar, fit with barstools, an ice cream machine, as well as a soda machine. There was even a section where you could order homemade candy. Little booths scattered the wall across from the bar, and tables separated the two. The floor was checkered design donning many muddy footprints and the walls were covered in old-timey photos of local streets. You and the girls sat at a booth, June and Dottie sitting across from you.

“Okay, get this,” You began, leaning in towards your friends, “Santino, you know, mio cugino pazzo. He’s mad at my father and is trying to kill me for it.” ‘[My crazy cousin.]’ You finished and took another long sip of your cocktail. June and Dottie stared with their mouths agape. You calmly set down your drink and smiled shyly, eyes bouncing between the girls. You loved your friends, honestly. The three of you have been close since you were young teens. June and Dot also had connections to the Italian mafia, their fathers having run a section of both New York and New Jersey; although they aren't as intertwined as you. June is the oldest, one year older than yourself. She’s an old soul, that you know for sure. She wears dated clothes and uses dated household items; in fact, you can't recall June ever purchasing something new from the stores you and Dot go to. Hell, even her car is a 1978 AMC Pacer. Dottie is only a few months older than you, on the other hand. She is the spitting image of a pinup girl. She wears her hair in elegant waves and has bangs, she even wears button up dresses and has big hair bows for when shes feeling fancy. You can’t recall a time when she didn’t wear red lipstick nearly everyday.

“Should you even be outside?” Dottie whispered, leaning closer to your figure. Her New York accent was a little amplified by the drinks she’s had already. You shrugged as your answer, and June scoffed.

“You, (Y/N), are unbelievable.” The waiter to walked up to your table, halting your conversation. The three of you blinked at the other, little grins holding back giggles ready to erupt. The waiter asked for your orders, then as soon as the young man had left, you jumped right back into it.

“You guys should see my bodyguard.” You spoke, a smirk donning your face. Your mind wondered as to what he was up to right now. Maybe he's still sitting waiting for you to exit the bathroom, or, maybe he's already begun the witch hunt.

“Ah, yes. John? As you've mentioned. Show us! the way you've described him- He sounds gorgeous.” Dottie eagerly bounced in her seat, urging you to show them a picture. You pulled out your phone, stomach dropping at the several messages that donned the lock screen; John’s contact name on each one. Witch hunt is it.

12:47: Very funny. Where are you?

12:59: Where are you.

1:13: (Y/N). This isn’t a game.

1:21: I’m coming to find you.

At least it took him almost an hour and a half to notice. You bit your cheek, looking up at June and Dottie. The two girls were engaged in conversation, talking about something or another. You cleared the notifications and unlocked your phone, hoping to god you got to finish your lunch before John caught up. You opened the camera roll and scrolled through until you found a picture of you and the bodyguard. Somehow, you'd gotten him to agree to a photo. He was bent over so his head was level with your own. Due to the lighting, the man was squinting, however the dark gaze caused a chill to form down your back. You cleared your throat and flipped your phone around to show the girls. Dottie stopped talking and immediately looked at the screen

“Oh my god.” She murmured, sitting back and putting her hand over her chest. “He’s so handsome.” June grabbed the phone from you to get a better look.

“You have to fuck him.” The eldest commented with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. You let out a short laugh, snatching your phone back from the girls grasp. The two girls giggled at your embarrassment, Dot even took a coy sip from her drink.

“Was that gray in his beard? How old is he?” Dottie asked, looking you in the eye and sipping on her own cocktail.

“Don’t laugh, okay? He’s mid fifties.” A blush crawled across your cheeks as your words escaped your lips. June and Dottie blinked a couple times before Dot finally let out a snort.

“Going geriatric, now? hm?” June spoke, raising her brow and taking a gulp of her drink. While Dottie laughed at June’s question, you glanced over their shoulders, witnessing two burly men sit down at a table across from yours. One of them made eye contact with you, glare evident in their gaze, before looking back to their buddy. You felt your skin crawl and cleared your throat, pushing the feeling away. June’s laughter brought you back, now looking between the two girls again.

“Well, He- He really doesn't feel old. Not when we're together.” You shrugged, playing with the condensation on your drink.

“I mean, you’re only twenty-six,” Dot spoke, her eyes glancing between you and June. “You’re young and hot. I don't see an issue.” Your eyes shot up to meet Dottie’s. She smiled at you, her dark brown eyes warming your core.

“Who are we to judge,” June began, a laugh escaping her throat. “I slept with that old guy, remember? He was, like, almost sixty and I was drunk as hell.” You and Dottie laughed, remembering that night. It was June’s twenty-third birthday. You three went to the club to celebrate and the eldest of your group ended up getting too wasted on absinthe. Which resulted in her sleeping with Mitch Johnson, an old friend of your fathers. Small world.

“And you,” June pointed to Dottie, “Are a homewrecker.”

“He never said he was married.” Dottie responded, sticking her tongue out at the woman. The three of you chuckled amongst yourselves before a silence took over. Your eyes once again scanned the room, not being able to shake the eerie feeling those two men implanted. They still sat across the diner and occasionally their eyes would make contact with your own, causing a chill to run up your spine. You quietly flipped your phone over, checking for any more messages from John. The screen remained blank, setting panic to freely course through your veins. His previous message was sent fifteen minutes ago, which meant the man was probably on his way right now. Plus, your parents didn’t live far from Coopers.

The men both stood up now, locking eyes with you. They then looked at the other, as though confirmation was in order, before beginning to walk in the direction that you and the girls sat. Anxiety courses firmly through your veins now, and you could feel your palms gather sweat.

“Girls,” You murmured, gathering their attention. “There are two men walking in our direction now, and I’m pretty sure they are after me.” You kept your voice low, trying to pretend as though you are oblivious. June and Dottie became physically uncomfortable, now shifting in their seats and looking over their shoulders. You felt guilt cross your person, now realizing how serious the situation is. You put your two best friends in harm's way. I mean, It’s not like they’re completely useless; they have parents in the Mafia, they’re trained in combat and weaponry. However, the guilt still bothered you that it was your fault.

“How do we go about this?” Dot asked, reaching for her purse. Your eyes watched as the woman dug into her bag. The pop of a gun chamber sounded as she began to fill it with bullets. June tied her hair back and began to stretch her arms. You sometimes forget that June is trained extensively in Jiu Jitsu. You also looked back to the men who were still making their way to you, passing through the crowded dining room floor.

“Should we leave the public space?” You murmured, “I don’t want civilian casualties.”

“Yes.” June agreed, standing up. “Gather your things, quickly.” She added. The oldest tossed a fifty dollar bill onto the table to pay for the drinks and the food you didn’t get to eat. You led the way, pushing through the crowded dining room to the exit. You glanced back, seeing the men become more frustrated. You are aware of the other, knowing what little cat and mouse game was occurring.

Your palms shoved the door open, the three of you stumbling over onto the sidewalk. You looked both ways before leading right. You didn’t know what to do, whether you should try to outrun them, or stick up and fight. Maybe if you kill them it’ll send a message to Santino. Though, he may not even care. As he’s got twenty more men to fill the space those two would leave. You made sure June and Dottie still followed, checking over your shoulder occasionally. The three of you pushed through the crowds of New York, your main destination being Dottie’s vehicle. Your eyes also kept a lookout for John. He probably tracked your phone, you knew he had the ability anyways. You’re just glad the little ploy worked for as long as it did. You turned right down an alleyway, taking a shortcut towards the parking garage that Dot’s car was in. June looked over her shoulder, alarm blaring through her veins as she spotted the men.

“They’re still behind us.” She spoke, looking between you and Dottie. You took a deep breath, placing your hands on your hips.

“Va al diavolo!” ‘[Go to hell!]’ You cursed, throwing your hands up. Dot quickly grabbed you by the arm, pulling you as she began to run to the end. June grunted as the three of you approached a dead end, meeting a chain link fence.

“Fanculo. Okay, you two climb over.” ‘[Fuck.]’ You spoke, gesturing to the fence that stood in front of you. Your eyes met those of your friends, all breathing heavily from the sprint. Echoed footsteps could be heard at the entrance of the alley. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing the silhouettes of the men headed in your direction.

“Go!” You spoke with a harshness towards your friends.

“Not without you!” Dottie raised her tone, hands on hips. You turned your head again, seeing them get closer.

“Dot, just go!” You finally yelled. The girls hesitated, however respected your wishes and quickly climbed the fence, hopping to the other side. They stood now, staring as the men approached, getting ready to jump back over if need be.

“Santino it ha Inviato?” ‘[Did Santino send you?]’ You asked the men, slowly walking towards them.

“Si.” ‘[Yes.]’ One responded, their faces finally becoming clear from the backlight. You looked at them, noting how they both looked like average Italian men. Dark hair, olive eyes, and warm skin. Their faces were covered in a few scars, and you noted how they both wore suits with visible holsters resting on their hips

“It ha mandato per uccidermi?” ‘[Did he send you to kill me?]’ You asked, the men now only ten feet away from you. The darkness of the alley sent a chill down your spine, and you glanced back at the girls to make sure they were alright. Dot had her hand in her purse, most likely gearing up for when shit turned sideways. June held a stoic look, almost a resting bitch face, staring down the two men.

“Si.” The same one answered again. They now stood only five feet away, stopping in front of you. You felt the sweat drip down your forehead, the buggy summer heat beginning to take claim of your body. You took a deep breath, wondering where John was, and how now would be a good time for him to suddenly appear. The men cracked their knuckles, rolling their shoulders and looking at you with sinister smiles.

“Di ‘a Santino: E un peccato che sia troppo codardo per uccidermi.” ‘[Tell Santino: It’s a shame he’s too much of a coward to kill me himself.]’ You spoke, remembering the moves that your bodyguard had taught you. You leapt forward, first knocking one of the men down by pushing in his kneecaps. You took the moment to quickly hit the next guy, however, he blocked your blow, sending you back a few feet. The second man took advantage of your hesitation and grabbed you, throwing you into one of the walls. You let out a yelp, feeling the brick scrape bare skin harshly. The first guy stood up, and threw a fist at you, however, you quickly dodged and used his own momentum to toss his body into the wall.

You felt as the second lackey quickly punched your gut, causing you to double over in pain. June and Dottie stood yelling which you could hear through ringing ears. You recovered quickly, countering the second man with a swift kick to his shin. He groaned, but recovered and swung a fist at you. You managed to dodge the blow and delivered a hearty boot to his groin. He quickly dropped to the ground in pain and you grabbed the pistol from his holster, pulling the trigger and placing one bullet into his skull. The second man used this moment to grab your loose shirt, and throw you into the brick, scraping your skin once again. He lifted his foot and conveyed a kick to your gut, sending you to double over. He used his fist to hit the sides of your face, throwing your head back and forth. You could feel blood begin to drip down your face, the pain that each snap of your neck caused, you could hear June and Dot yelling but it was faint. Time felt slowed, your heartbeat was like a drum in your ear. Then, a gunshot.

All movements stopped, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground near your own. You slowly slid down, ignoring the burning chafe the brick left. Hot tears stung your eyes as you covered them with your hands, a harsh sob leaving your throat. Your body ached, your face burned, and blood was the only taste that donned your mouth. You heard the chain link rattle as somebody climbed over it, as well as a huff when they landed. A gentle hand placed itself on your shoulder, and you saw as they knelt down, due to the shadow.

“(Y/N).” John. A hoarse cry escaped your throat upon hearing your bodyguards gentle voice. He wasn’t angry, like you expected. Instead, his tone seemed more worried than anything. You managed to look up at the man from your hands, your eyes greeting the sight of his own.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)!” You heard Dottie yell as she approached your side. The two girls quickly examined your body, nearly shoving John out of the way.

“I fucked up.” You didn’t even recognize your voice as you spoke— your throat burned. June dotted your bloody forehead with a napkin from Dot’s purse.

“We should get her back home.” Dottie murmured, looking up at John. The dark haired man nodded, agreeing with the woman. June moved out of the way so he could scoop you into his arms. You lay your head onto his chest, faintly hearing the sound of his heartbeat and breathing. The man carried you out of the alley with June and Dottie close behind. You felt the summer sun warm your face as you exited the cool shade of the alleyway. The fresh breeze brought your attention to the cuts on your face, feeling the coolness from the semi-dried blood. Dottie opened the vehicles door and John placed you in the passenger seat, buckling your body firmly in. The two girls hopped into the back, John promising they’d be returned to their car later this evening. You heard the rumble of the engine, and closed your eyes, feeling tiredness numb the pain that ravaged your figure.

——————

“How long have you been employed by the (Y/L/N)’s?” Dottie’s gentle voice quietly echoed throughout your bedroom. Mellow sun rays shone in through the window, casting a warm haze throughout the space. After the incident in the alleyway, John brought you, Dottie, and June back to your parents estate. However, after you all got back, John discovered they'd left on business to Rome for a few days. He carried your figure all the way from the car to your bed, carefully depositing you. Dot and June then got to work, bandaging your wounds, though after you seemed stable and well asleep, they backed off and let you get some rest. Now, John watched as Dottie cared for your sleeping figure. His heart couldn’t help but ache to see you so helpless laying there. Your face had been drained of some of its color, leaving it more pale and sickly. Your hair stuck to your skin, and a thin layer of sweat covered your body. Your bodyguard wanted so badly to climb into the bed with you, stroke your hair from your face, tend to your bandages, hold you, kiss you.

“Month and a half.” John answered, looking over to the woman. She nodded at his answer, dotting your forehead with a wet washcloth. The woman sat next to your bed with a rag in hand, occasionally cleaning your skin of sweat and dried blood specs. June was asleep on the small couch you had in your bedroom next to one of the windows. John stood on the opposite side of the bed from Dottie, watching her every movement when it came to caring for you. Occasionally your body would stir, but you still hadn’t woken up since the car— four hours ago.

“Are you liking it?” The vintage dressed woman asked, a smirk crossing her red lips. She cast her eyes between John and your sleeping figure, hinting as to what she was meaning.

“I am.” He responded. Dottie noticed his softened gaze when he looked towards you. She glanced back down at your face, wiping your skin with the washcloth gently. Your brow bone contained a nasty laceration and your cheekbone held a nice bruise with a cut as well. There was also a gash on your bottom lip, and your left eye held a hefty black bruise. That man really got ahold of you.

“They're a good family. I know Francesco means well,” Dot murmured, “Speaking of, have you let them know?” John watched as the woman stood up and walked to the bathroom retrieving a fresh bowl of water for your face.

“I called Francesco shortly after we arrived here.” The dark haired man spoke. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning towards your figure. He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen in your face. His thumb caressed your cheek afterwords, carefully avoiding the wounds that donned your skin. He felt your body stir, and a quiet groan escape your lips as you started to wake up. Dot walked back into the room, noting Johns figure looming over your own. A little smirk crossed her lips as she set the bowl down on the nightstand. You peeked your eyes open for a second, wincing at the brightness of the room.

“Good afternoon, sleepy.” Dottie smiled, sitting beside your figure again. “Careful.” She murmured, watching as you shifted to sit up a little better. You knew Dottie was next to you, but could feel the weight of somebody on your other side. A large hand quietly placed itself on the side of your arm and you looked to see who it belonged to.

“How do you feel?” John’s words were gently spoken. His fingers squeezed your arm slightly before he released.

“M-my throat hurts.” Your voice came out scratchy and withered sounding. Dottie quickly placed a cool glass of water into your palms, hers then wrapping around yours before releasing entirely. You gave her the best smile you could manage, due to your cuts, before sipping the drink. John stood up from the bed and made a comment about going to grab pain medicine before he exited your bedroom.

“I'm going to wake up June.” Dottie spoke, walking over to her sleeping position by the window. You blinked your eyes, feeling the pain from the cuts, and groaned silently. It was stupid of you to think you could take on both of them. Your training with John was going fine, you figured if you at least got one down… No matter, at least you were still alive. The footsteps of your two friends caught your attention as the girls returned to your side. June immediately began to gush over how happy she was you were awake and okay, hugging you tightly.

“We thought you were a goner.” The girl whispered, worry still evident in her tone. You raised your brows but winced as the sting from the cut became overwhelming.

“I'm glad John showed up when he did. Like a superhero. He stood there with his gun and you should've seen the animalistic look in his eye.” Dottie sighed dreamily, “You are one lucky girl.”

“I know about your ‘no dating’ rule, however, I don't think you should let this one get away.” June commented quietly, brushing some hair from your face. Dot agreed, shaking her head vigorously. The three of you cut the conversation short as John's footsteps echoed closer. He entered the room quietly and padded over to the bed, handing you a bottle of painkillers. Your fingers brushed as the container was passed and you felt a longing for the touch to remain; however just as the warmth arrived, it left.

——————

June and Dottie stayed over for another hour before leaving. They helped you change your clothes and settle in for the night before they left you in the capable hands of John. The two of you remained in your bedroom the rest of the evening. You went in and out of sleep a few times. One time, you woke to the man humming quietly while sitting in bed next to your figure. Another, he was checking your bandages and cleaning the sheen of sweat from your skin. Maybe what June said is right, you can’t let John get away. Nobody has cared for you like he has. But that begged the question, would he even want to be with you? You’re half his age and apart of a mafia family. Plus, you still don't know much about him; his past, his home life, etc. He is a mysterious being, quiet too. It only made you want to know more.

“John?” You murmured, gathering the strength to sit up. It was late evening now, just past eight. The summer sun had just set, leaving a gray tone to cover the space.

“Yes?” He answered, turning to face you. He had been sitting at your desk, cleaning his gun.

“Parlami di te.” ‘[Tell me about yourself.]’ The man responded to your request by putting down the parts in his hand. He then quietly cleaned his fingers of grime before standing up and padding over to you, but not sitting.

“What would you like to know?” He murmured. You studied his face for a moment, taking in the features he donned. His normally combed hair was disheveled now and he had bags under his eyes. He wore a suit and shoes too, obviously still dressed for work.

“Everything.” You replied, ignoring the throb of pain that coursed through your body. John nodded, then loosened the tie from his around neck. He shed off his suit jacket next, leaving him in a black button up and vest on top. You admired his figure in the darkening room. He stood tall, confident, maybe a little tired, but didn't let it show much. The man settled on the edge of your bed, by your feet. The room remained silent for a few moments; you not daring to speak, and John taking the time to gather his thoughts.

“I was married.” John’s voice was so soft, you had to lean towards him to hear better. The man kept his gaze towards his hands, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Was?” You asked, pushing aside the slight feeling of jealousy that rose.

“She- she passed due to an illness years back.” The bodyguard paused.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” You let out quietly, as to not bother John’s story process.

“I was retired and wanted to live my days as a widower, however I was dragged back into the business by an old friends’ idiot son.” The man sighed, pushing some fallen hair behind his ear. You caught a glimpse at how sad he appeared, and felt an urge to comfort him. Pain shot through your body as you scooted down the bed until you were close enough to John. You grabbed his hand and his fingers instinctively intertwined with your own, making you realize just how large his palms actually were. It felt right, his hand being wrapped with your own.

“Ever since then, I haven't left the business again. I see no point. I can't seem to leave anyways, I keep getting dragged back in.” He sighed heavily and you began to rub your thumb along his hand, as your way of comforting him. He fell silent, but you didn't push anymore questions just yet. He was being open and raw, which was probably difficult for the man to do. If he wanted to tell his story, he would. You wanted to know more, obviously, about the kind of work he's done; his jobs, the people he’s met, and if he knew anyone in your family. You wanted to know why the man was so troubled, and why it seemed everybody is against him.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Your voice escaped softly, barely above a whisper. John's hand squeezed your own, before he finally made eye contact with you. His dark gaze caused a chill to slither down your spine.

“Yes.” He spoke softly, “I need to go change.” He gave your hand one last squeeze before removing it and standing up. You watched as his figure walked across your room and disappeared behind the door. It only took him about five minutes before he returned, ready for bed. Sure, it was barely nine, but you figured you could put on a movie. You drank in the sight of him, admiring his pajamas. Blue with plaid stripes, and a plain white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him in anything but a suit, nevermind the sweatsuit outfit from when you train. This is different than that, this is a side of John that doesn't say ‘Hey, i'm a killer!’ This side is domestic; make you coffee and toast in the morning domestic.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” You then asked, watching him tidy up his mess from cleaning his gun, which he didn't finish.

“Sure.” He responded, walking over and climbing onto the bed next to your figure. You turned on your TV, and picked a movie from a streaming service, before fully settling in. You scoot your body close enough to John’s that you were able to lay your head on his chest. The man wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer, but gently as to not cause you more pain. You listened to his heartbeat as it slowed to a resting rhythm, and then closed your eyes letting sleep overcome your senses.

Masterlist

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu x you #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #fic: bodyguardAU

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