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angelstate · 4 months

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“Unprioritized Love”

Husband!Price x Wife!Reader

Price is a loyal person, he thinks about everyone else before himself and doesn’t hesitate to do something he normally would be against if it means saving the people he cares for, it truly is a blessing at times, the way his priorities don’t falter…until they do.

because he is a loyal person but does not know or pretends not to know in which situations he should stand by one person instead of the other, it’s conflicting for him to choose someone when another person is also expecting his support.

it hurts a lot when you’re caught in that sort of situation with him, you’re his lover, his companion in life, and the person he returns home to, but you’re also the person he leaves behind for his team, you’re the one who waits around for him while the team gets him almost all the time.

and you know jealousy isn’t healthy, that you shouldn’t resent anyone because it's his job, he has to leave to provide for you, you cannot bite the hand that feeds you, it would be wrong, it wouldn’t be pretty, it wouldn’t be fair for him.

so you bite your tongue and nod like a child when he tells you about his job, about him going away once more, for longer this time. and the tears in your eyes are hard to be held back, because God, it hurts a lot to be left behind, all by yourself. away from your family and your lover, only an empty home to satisfy your basic needs.

He doesn’t mean to be an absent presence, the lack of a lover in your life. He truly doesn’t mean to give so little to you, to not hold you every night. but between his job and you…he knows which one he isn’t choosing even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

“I'll be back when I can, alright?” he speaks, voice gruff as he looks around the room, his hands on his hips, you stay seated on the couch, knees close to your chest and your eyes glued to the TV for a distraction, is better to pretend you don’t care than to show him how much you are beginning to hate the dynamic he created in your life.

“mhm” you hum in agreement, taking a big breath and holding it in before exhaling through your nose, not trusting that if you open your mouth, a sob wouldn’t escape, Price notices the lack of words from your part, you always have something to say, a small joke to make about him better bringing you a souvenir or something from his “trip” but when this time you don’t speak or even dare to look at him makes him anxious.

“Want me to bring you something?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you, looking towards the TV, a baking program playing, and your focus on the show makes him raise an eyebrow, you aren’t one to enjoy cooking so he doesn't understand why you’re watching it.

“no thanks” you respond, and the answer makes him feel like he’s done something wrong that made you upset, the last 4 days he’s been home replaying in his mind, trying to remember what could’ve made you get angry with him, nothing comes to mind sadly, and he feels clueless about everything surrounding you.

“I thought you don’t like cooking” He decides to comment, shifting the conversation to something more banal and easy to speak about. “I started baking almost 8 months ago” you answer him back, voice flat and your eyes strained on the TV, the recipe to make pavlova having your main focus, it makes Price frustrated, how you won’t look at him, won’t give him the time of day when he’s leaving tomorrow.

you don’t expect him to know how your life develops and the things that change when he's away most of the time, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to pay you attention when he already has a tough and complicated job to do, his salary pays for the kitchen supplies and food after all. it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to know you... god, how stupid is that?

“You didn’t tell me” Price states, his voice carrying a heaviness that reveals he is irritated about not being told something he should’ve known if he paid attention to the new things in the kitchen like the stand mixer next to the electric oven.

“I thought I mentioned it when I gave you to try the brownies I made yesterday” you retort, your eyes landing on him for a second before returning to the TV, your gaze isn’t welcoming or warm and it creates a pit on his stomach to see you so detached and unresponsive to something he knew should make you upset.

It brings a sort of heaviness to his chest as he notices he doesn’t have the right to feel offended about not being told something when you should be upset about him not noticing in the first place something that occurred in his own home. It is hypocritical and he knows it.

Price stays silent for a long time, the sound of the TV filling in the silence that was created between the two of you, he feels out of place, not knowing how to answer you, what to do, what is the problem he feels he should be fixing right now.

“you should start packing” you comment after almost five minutes, and that phrase is said with a monotone tone, not one of sadness or a little bit of frustration that he’s leaving again, it's a tone that just states the obvious, you declare that he should pack his bag once more because otherwise he would leave with nothing for his mission and that wouldn’t be optimal.

“Can you help me pack?” He asks for a favor you often offer without him mentioning wanting your help. tonight you don’t offer assistance, almost like you aren’t faced by his departure, used to his absence, used to his side of the bed being empty.

“I’m watching TV” you speak and his heart breaks a little bit, you don’t sound apologetic as you often do when you’re not able to help him, and he’s leaving but he feels you left instead, that the girl he married is no longer in the house even though he has you in front of him, too focused on looking at the tv to help him.

he nods at your answer and doesn’t try to persuade you into doing something you don’t want to, it wouldn’t be fair to force you to help him just because he wants you to, it isn’t fair for you to give a hand and for him to take your arm. Loving someone isn’t really fair.

Only when he leaves the living room to go pack do your tears make their way out of your eyes, running down your cheeks as you cry silently, vision too blurry to even distinguish the images on the TV, it feels almost pathetic to be crying alone, your lover packing to leave and not be able to bring yourself to help him abandon you once again.

If you were his pet it would be abuse for him to just leave, but you're a woman and therefore being alone and left behind isn’t unexpected, being the one to stay home is almost an obligation when your lover leaves to provide for you even if you wish they stayed.

you’re not sure how it begins to be fair to be put in this situation, when the missions of 4 weeks turned into 4 months. When knowing everything about each other turned into barely remembering anniversaries and birthdays.

You don’t want to say the relationship fell apart because you doubt there’s anything at all to be destroyed anymore, you love him though, the pain in your chest and the tears falling from your eyes are proof of that, but you are not sure John loves you.

It’s uncertain how he views you after not spending time together for almost two years, you doubt there is nothing more than just an acknowledgment of your existence in his life, a statement that he knows you're his partner but not enough love to call you his lover.

“Why are you crying darling?” the sudden voice of Price pulls you out of your thoughts, the place next to you on the couch sinking as he takes a sit beside you, resting his elbows on his knees while his eyes examine your expression, you look utterly distraught about something, your breathing uneven and shaky as you begin to sob loudly, unable to talk as all your emotions came crashing down.

and the sight of you crying, digging your nails into your thighs, and being desperate for a peace that will not come, makes a heavy feeling of guilt and worry sit on his shoulders, wrapping an arm around your waist and another under your knees, bringing you into his lap and putting your face on the crook of his neck while you cried, sobs muffled against his skin, your tears wetting his shirt.

“take a deep breath love” Price says in your ear, your breathing so erratic that it makes him worried you will suffocate at some point because of the lack of oxygen in your body, he feels your chest against him as you do as he told you, taking deep breaths the best you can, trying to calm down for your and his sake.

you’ve never been one to cry with so much despair, to need his comfort in times of need because you managed well on your own, he was never around to solve your sorrow either so why bother? But today, he is the reason you're crying and it seems fair that he is the one to comfort you, that your only chore is to cry and keep your breathing somewhat stable while he does everything else to fix what he broke.

He doesn't know where to begin though, unaware of where he stands or what he should do to bring peace into your mind, what words will fix his mistake, and what words will tear you apart even more, he doesn’t want to cause you harm, not consciously, not right now. it wouldn’t be fair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to your heart, it would be cruel. and he doesn’t want to be cruel to you, not anymore.

“I’m sorry love…I should’ve been good to you” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth on his lap, soothing you like he would to a child, his voice low and soft, his hand caressing your thighs in a comforting manner.

“I don’t know why I didn’t notice that you started baking, it was wrong, I didn’t notice you when I should’ve noticed every change you’ve had over the last two years” he continuous, speaking out the guilt he carried in his chest the moment he saw you and heard you break down into tears, your sobs engraved in his mind.

“I’m really sorry for missing out on all of this when I was gone, I shouldn’t have been such a bad husband, you don’t deserve that” he sighs, his eyes stinting a little bit from the tears beginning to form, and your calmer now, sniffling and whimpering, the tears slowly stopping, but it seems that your distraught was transferred to him because he doesn’t feel at ease, he feels the guilt eat him alive while he soothes you.

“I don't want you to leave…” you mumble, adjusting on his lap, your head resting against his chest, you have never wanted him to leave home, to go on missions for months on end with little to no contact with your lover, it feels like you're mourning him every time he goes away and doesn’t give you a small message to let you know he wasn’t killed.

“I know sweet girl” he replies, he doesn’t want to leave either, he never wants to, even though he continues to do so. It's a complicated situation, one he doesn’t dare to think about too much because he’ll end up ripping his heart out, his loyalty not being able to distribute equally for you and his team, always the latter winning even if he doesn’t dare to admit it.

he wants to promise you he’ll return quickly this time and will take a leave just to spend time with you, to dedicate more time to what's left of your relationship, he doesn’t want your marriage to fail, you’re the only woman he wants, the only one he had ever seen himself grow old together, he doesn’t want to let that go because of his own stupid and selfish mistakes.

He has to leave tomorrow, but when he’s back he’ll fix everything.

“I'll be back soon” he mumbles against your hair, face buried in it as breathes in your smell, trying to engrave it in his mind, to not forget this time details about you he has always loved.

Thankfully, his promise becomes reality, and after two weeks of loneliness that have never felt heavier on your chest, he returns, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a smile on his lips, happy to see you, to see the warmth and loving gaze you always give him back in your eyes after all this time.

He steps through the door, your face pressed against his chest, refusing to let go of him, fearing he would leave even if it wasn’t unreasonable, he had returned early for you, he had seen his mistakes and was fixing what never should’ve been broken

Peace is restored in your home, love is flourishing once again in your marriage, and whatever plans you had made to start over get discarded, you’re already having a fresh start, one that doesn’t involve leaving your lover. this time is a start with a more conscious man who is ready to do everything right by you, to never let his job affect the way he loves you. He's learning that his wife comes first, that his life outside of the military also has the same and more importance than his job.

(little reminder: I'm taking requests if you want me to write something specific xx)

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 2 months

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Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon x Teen!Female!Reader)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!

Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!

I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!

P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!

Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

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A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

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thewulf · 4 months

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For That Long? || Aragorn

Summary: Request -Hello! 👋 Your work is absolutely amazing! Especially your Aragorn fics (My King! 🗡️👑❤️) In fact, whenever works best for you, here’s an idea: During the victory celebration at Helm’s Deep, the reader (also a Dunedain Ranger) offers a quick dance lesson for Aragorn to a) enjoy the celebration with him and.... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you for the sweetest little request anon! I had too much fun writing this one. I love trying to get into his head. Keep sending amazing requests my way! And thank you for you kind comments!

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k +

TW: fluff?

“Not like that, Strider.” You giggled something fierce as he tripped over his own feet for the umpteenth time that night. Somehow you had convinced him to dance with you after quite literally decades of trying to get him as your partner.

“Have I not already told you how hopeless this is, Callia?” He asked you by your chosen Ranger name. You had to abandon Y/N when you left home all those years ago. If you were captured you must never give up your true name for your family could bear danger to your chosen work.

“You just need to relax yourself. Your mind.” You poked his forehead while grinning from ear to ear.

He sighed, “I cannot keep making a fool of myself in front of…”

You stopped him by placing his hand on your hip catching him most off guard, “My King overthinks.” You whispered as you took a soft step towards him. He smelled good. Like of the woody scent he naturally had but even better.

“I am no King.”

You smiled more to yourself than him, “Not yet. But the people have decided. It be but a mere month and you shall be.”

“It does not feel right hearing you call me that, my lady.” He countered while raising his eyebrows right up waiting for your retaliation.

Trying your best, but failing, you made a face in reaction, “You know I am hardly a lady.”

He hummed. Not even realizing you had begun to lead him you kept talking trying to rid his mind of the thoughts that plagued him. For if there was anybody who knew Strider better than himself it was you. Time had a way of making your heart the softest for him and truly only him. Countless sleepless nights of diving into your worst nightmares and trauma would find a way to bond the two seemingly hopeless souls.

“The opposite is true.” He smiled down at you with a look you had rarely seen from the hardened leader. You had been away from him longer than you wished. He had told you to go to Minas Tirith after getting orders from Gandalf to help the Hobbits of the Shire. You had heard the story of the great Bilbo Baggins and now apparently Strider had to accompany his nephew, Frodo. He had told you to go to Minas Tirith and wait for his word.

That had been six months ago. You had gotten used to life without him how odd it may seem. You had made a few friends that you probably never would have had Strider joined you. It was terribly uncomfortable. Your simple life changed when you had gotten word from him asking you to join him in Rohan. He knew something was coming and needed all the help he could get.

“A lady does not count her kills.” You spoke breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. A shift occurred as he had taken control of the dancing now. Your easy banter all but freeing his mind from his thoughts. Dancing wasn’t so bad. Especially if he got to hold you like this.

“By your definition.” He smirked down but dared not look into your eyes for he knew he would cave to any of your demands, “Not by mine. And did you not say I was to be King?”

You fought every urge in you not to pinch his side, “You are impossible.”

“Do you not refute, my lady?” His smirk only grew as he noticed your face fighting the urge to react. It was amusing watching you try and stay neutral. For he had missed this. Sure, it was not only the two of you dancing but it had felt like it. You had a way of taking his mind off of whatever he needed. You had always seemed to have known what he may have needed.

“It is no use in arguing with you, Aragorn.” You gave him the eye letting him know you were not over the little secret he had kept from you for so long. You had only found out of the name when Legolas shouted it on the battlefield almost costing you your life. It had left you stunned. Who was Aragorn and why had Strider reacted as if it was his name.

Because it was. He had apologized profusely before you finally gave in. Leading you to this moment with him. You had finally convinced him he needed to learn how to properly dance since he was to be the king. And lucky for him you so happened to know many dances as your mother had insisted a girl your age to learn them all those years ago in Dúnedain.

An amused smile crossed his features as he led you across the dance floor. Maybe he was not so pathetic after all, “It is not like you, Callia, to bite your tongue.”

“Hush you.” A laugh escaped you. It was no use trying to hide your own amusement. Yes, he pushed you, but it had also shown you how much he too cared for you.

He slowly stopped the two of you from your dance before replying, “You are most fortunate the music has ended."

A quick nod left you head as it spun out of control by his soft touch and daring words, “Most fortunate indeed.” Begrudgingly you took a step back knowing the moment between the two of you had ended.

But his words had stopped you from turning all the way around, “I will stop teasing you if you lead me in another dance. For I must learn. I do not wish to embarrass you.”

You only grinned before stepping back into his hands, “You could never embarrass me Strider.”

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you took in the breathtaking room before you. Stifling a laugh, you couldn’t truly believe you had made it here with him, alive and in one piece. Your truest and oldest friend crowned the King of Gondor. How you would never have believed this only three years prior. You watched as royalty and common people alike danced with joy and glee for their newfound leader. Aragorn. It felt the most surreal as you watched him mingle with people that mattered. A King. Who would’ve thought. Glancing down at your nearly empty glass you sighed knowing you had to make the walk back to get another drink.

But you never made it as you were intercepted by nonother the man you were watching far too often that night, “Strider!” You smiled trying to play it off as nothing as his broad hands covered the length of your forearm with ease, “You best get dancing. You have many eyes on you, my King.” You grinned with ease knowing calling him such made him uncomfortable. You truly had known him as Strider for as long as you could remember. You’d met as teenagers in your youth, kids from Dúnedain.

Your fathers were friends keeping you close together often until he went off on his own. When it came time to leave you had heard Strider was a Ranger. Having a feeling you’d run into him again you weren’t surprised you were assigned to his company not long after you left home to find a purpose. Just like him. In a lot of ways, you were the same. But in so many different.

For the last sixty or so years the two of you became something of a menace in the North. Something to be feared. Always working as a team, the two of you always seemed to come out of battles unscathed.

He grumbled in response to the title name you had used on him, “I have told you not to call me that. It does not feel right hearing those words from you. Strider will do.”

You smiled seeing how you managed to get under his skin with such ease, “Strider is too informal. May I call you Aragorn at least?”

“I think Strider is perfectly formal. But you may call me as you see fit. So long as it is not, my King.” He smiled right back at you. Even he had to admit how nice it was seeing you so at ease. He had roamed the North for nearly sixty years with you. He had never seen you so relaxed. He was sure he had seen you smiling more tonight than he had in the past sixty combined. You smiled like that bright eyed teenager who had an obvious crush on the older teen. It was times like these that made him wish he had told you how he had felt the same. He had longed for you for so long in silence. He had a duty to uphold. But now? Time was different. He needed somebody on his side. He had always known that somebody was you.

You bowed just knowing it would push his nerves further, “As my King wishes, I shall only refer to him as Aragorn.”

His mouth dropped at your brazenness, but he should have known better. He was convinced you were placed with him was to keep hm grounded. You had a certain way about you that had him acting his very best, “Y/N.” He let out an audible sigh letting you know he was annoyed.

“Strider.” You raised an eyebrow as if to challenge him knowing that name was now obsolete in your vocabulary. He was Aragorn now. You could get used to it.

He looked to the dance floor before turning back to you, “Would you join me in a dance?” He held his hand out for you to take giving you your favorite impatient face. It was your favorite thing to do after all, push his buttons.

Your smirk turned up into a genuine smile, “This is a pleasant change. I would be honored to join you in a dance, Aragorn.”

“Are you going to choose a name Callia?” He grumbled as you placed your hand in his. His smile never faltered even though he pretended to be most annoyed by you. It wasn’t lost on your how gently he wrapped his hand around yours before nodding his head to the nearly empty ballroom floor.

You giggled more to yourself knowing how annoyed he was with you. Maybe you should stop winding him up. It was almost too much fun to stop though, “Am I not allowed to interchange two of your many names?” You followed along his lead down to the center of the empty floor.

He stopped once he had found a place good enough. Placed one hand over your hip and one behind your back, “Hands on my shoulders.” His voice dropped nearly an octave as he gave you a simple order. A shiver ran down your side at his touch. This was new for you as well. Sure, you had found him ever so attractive, but he hadn’t the slightest interest in you. Everything was platonic as could be between the two of you. So, you had backed off and kept it cool knowing nothing was ever going to happen.

You did as he wished and wrapped your hands around his neck, far more intimate than you had intended but you were committed now. It would be almost more embarrassing to unwrap yourself from him, “You did not answer my question.” You spoke trying to rid your mind of overthinking this situation you had seemed to find yourself in.

He gave you a grin as his eyes trailed all over your face, “I was only playing with you. You may call me as you please.”

Before you could answer the music started forcing your concentration of following his lead. It was impressive how quickly he had picked up on the steps of the dances you had only taught him only a few times a month ago. It had been a little over a month after the Celebration of Helm’s Deep after the hell that was the battle.

You were almost upset when the music had stopped knowing his hands would soon leave you. It was not right to have these feelings for such a longtime friend. Let alone the King of Gondor. But how could you not? He was Strider the great Ranger of the North. He was Aragorn the leader of the Fellowship. He was the King of Gondor. He was everything.

Fortunate for you he hadn’t move his hands from your waist even as the music stopped, “I do think I should call you Aragorn. It suits your stature. You have outgrown Strider.”

He bowed his head before slowly bringing his eyes up to yours, “Then Aragorn I shall be, my lady.” He was smirking now knowing how much you too loathed the high title he had seemed to start calling you.

With a frustrated breath your eyes narrowed at his, “If you shall call me my lady, then I will call you my King.” You too didn’t enjoy how the high title rolled off his lips. You were anything but a lady even in the dress you protested but had been convinced of.

He let out a breathy chuckle as he finally came back to his senses and let his hands go of your waist. You feared to admit how much you had enjoyed his touch and closeness, “I suppose that is fair, Callia.”

Stepping forward to straighten his collar you could only smile up at him in adoration, “You look very handsome tonight. Who knew you cleaned up so well?”

He took your hand in his once more, “It took a fair bit of work. But I must say, it is you who shines the brightest tonight.”

He had never complimented you so forthright before it drew a small gasp out of your very own mouth, “You are most kind to me. Thank you Aragorn.” You were suddenly thankful you had put some makeup on. You were praying it was covering up the sure-fire pink tint that was bound to be covering your cheeks.

He watched as you turned away from him, “You must get back to your advisor. He looks very weary over in the corner.” You tried a good excuse to walk away from him. He was suddenly becoming too much even for you.

“Wait,” You stopped and turned back to him with that subtle blush coating your face. When you stopped he continued, “Come take a walk with me. I wish to talk with just you.” His darting eyes let you know people were listening, always listening in now that he had such a high title.

“As you wish.” You followed him as he left the hall as discretely as he could.

The two of you had made it all the way to the gardens before he had spoken once more, “I want to thank you, Y/N.” By speaking your true born name, you knew this was serious. There was no playfulness of my lady or the knowing name of Callie. Y/N.

You had no clue where this was coming from. Truly, you rattled your mind for further thoughts before you gave in, “Whatever for?”

He smiled as he led you down the path of roses he had grown fond of in his short time here, “For always being there for me. You have shown up for me time and time yet again.” He paused taking your hand in his before placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. Had he no idea what he was doing to you?

“You are my truest friend.” You answered honestly after a few long moments of trying your hardest not to cave into whatever was taking over your mind. He was your friend! Only a friend. That is all he had ever wanted. He was simply thanking you for the journey. That was all. One chapter of your lives had closed and the next was to begin. You had to wonder where you would end up. In the capital being a guard? Roaming the woodland realms for danger? Head home and care for your aging parents? The choices were endless for your new life.

He let out a short laugh, “For that you are. May I tell you something?”

“Anything.” The response was so automatic it almost took you by surprise.

“If not for you, I would not be here.” He spoke quickly.

It took you much longer to process those words, “What do you mean?”

“If I had not known you would always be there I would not be king.” He smiled as his eyes traced your nervous face. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever known. How had he gotten so lucky with you? And by any other stroke of luck, you would accept his next question that had been weighing heavily on his mind.

“I am not sure what you mean Aragorn.” Your heart rate sped up just a tad as he stepped back from you. He fished something out of his robe pocked. Your eyes went wide as he held an old relic. A beautiful ring covered in gemstones.

“You have always been there for me Y/N. I fear nobody could ever take that place. I wish nobody to take that place. For I am the happiest when I am with you. Those last six months have not been good for me. But now that I am back with you I feel whole once again. There is no lady that could take your place Y/N. For your place is next to me.” The last words to come out of his mouth almost came out as a whisper for even he was nervous. The mighty King of Gondor afraid of some feelings he had almost his entire life. Oh, how his father would be laughing now.

Your heart rate kicked it up another notch. It felt like you had been training it was racing so fast, “Forgive me, I fear I am not enough…”

He stopped you this time though by placing a gentle finger on your lips, “I wish to not hear you speak poorly of yourself. For I do not respect those words. I will never believe them. I do know your entirely Y/N. Please, do me the honor of letting me court you.”

Your breath had been taken from you now, “You like me?” You had managed to get out feeling oddly faint.

“I love you.” He said so effortlessly you weren’t sure you had him quite right.

Your eyes turned up to his as he stepped closer to you, “You love me?”

A quick nod came from his head as his eyes bore right into yours, “I do.”

“I love you, too.” You spoke back before you could let your thoughts get the better of you.

His hands moved to your cheeks as he held you in his own, “For nearly seventy years I have yearned to hear those words from your lips.”

“For that long?” You asked in bewilderment to his statement. How had he kept it from you with such ease? It amazed you he had managed to be so stoic when you had been so obvious. Why had he fought it for so long?

He did what you least expected and bowed down to you, slowly. He had made sure you knew his intention, “I may not have always been wise to it but indeed. I have always loved you.”

You nodded quickly, your smile beaming brighter than ever before. He was sure that was his new favorite look on you, “Yea.”

“Yea?” He asked you as confirmation.

“I accept. I would be honored to stand by your side Aragorn.” Before you could bow to him he caught your chin in his hand shaking his hand to let you know that would be most unnecessary.

“You are doing me the honor.” He fastened the necklace with the ring on your neck tucking it underneath the top of your dress. His hands trailed down your sides resting on your hip for longer than he should have. He needed to take a step back or he would kiss you. Not that you wouldn’t let him, no. He was sure you would be more than happy about it. He simply wanted to charm you before he kissed you. He would not rush into this with you. For he had taken nearly seventy years to admit how he had felt. What was a little longer?

“You made it, Strider. You did it.” You brushed his wavy hair away from his face knowing that would be the last time you referred to him as such. From here forth he would be Aragorn. And you would wed him. How a life you dreamed of had come to fruition was beyond you.

He shook his head grabbing at your hands once more, “We made it. We did it.” He spoke of all the wishes the two of you spoke about in your many long nights. The dreams had seemed to come truer than either of you could have imagined. It almost didn’t feel real.

You nodded with nothing but love in your eyes, “Indeed, we did it.”

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aonungyoufuck · 1 year

Note

can i request something where a sully!reader overhears lo’ak complaining/talking shit abt her to tsireya and she becomes distant and upset. thr aonung also overhears and picks on her abt it? then lo’ak “comes to the resvur” but the reader bursts in front of him

Enough

Fem Sully!Reader

Warnings: Just angst. Maybe some self loathe here and there

Thank you Anon for submitting your request. I hope i did you justice and that you enjoy it! I kinda made up the ending since i didnt know if you wanted to be like a fluff end or still angst? So perhaps angst

You had been having a normal day. It was more of the usual Training and trying to form your ways into the life at the sea.

And you hadn't meant for yourself to eavesdrop. It just happened. You had the best relationship with Lo'ak and you thought it was also returned. Two trouble makers trying to make sense in the hierarchy that was your family.

"I just dont get it Tsireya. Its just i do care about Y/n i do. But i would like some time for myself. Its just annoying having to constantly have her loom over me."

"Lo'ak.."

"I just wish sometimes that i could tell her to leave me alone. But she'll stick to me like an unwanted curse"

You could feel the lump on your throat form. Breathing felt painful and you hadn't known why. Was it the hurt or the betrayal? You couldn't really tell.

"But you dont mean that"

"i do! I do Care about my family as i am sure everyone else does! But its annoying to have a constant shadow behind me. Sometimes i wish that she ..she wasn't my sister"

"Lo'ak!"

You didnt even bother to hear the rest. Couldn't even dare. You were hurt. Possibly more to know that this is how Lo'ak felt. And how long exactly? How long had he been coward enough not to tell you face to face. You just couldn't do it. You wouldn't do it. And you were unaware of the pair of eyes that watched you go.

____________________

If Lo'ak had noticed your absence. He hadn't voiced it. You had done your best to avoid being around him as much as possible. And it had been noticeable to the others.

To anyone that had eyes and ears. Your once upbeat but brash personality had dimmed. You avoided Lo'ak as much as possibly taking the time to hang with Neteyam or even Kiri. It had been nice to, really. You didnt know them as much as you knew Lo'ak but even they knew that something was up. The two of you were trouble one and two.

So The lack of the two being in 'good' speaking terms was the biggest thing to have happened since Jake called himself Toruk Makto

"What is wrong?" you would constantly hear Neteyam ask you and yet you brushed him off.

Everything was perfectly fine. It had to be. So you wouldn't be too much of an annoyance.

"How the mighty have fallen"

You dreaded that voice. You hadn't exactly known that Ao'nung had heard Lo'ak's complaints but he did. And he was like a plague repeating the same stuff over and over again.

"Ao'nung. What ever do you mean?" Neteyam would unfortunately ask before you can divert attention from him.

"Talking about Y/n here. Once not long ago would have bitten my head off and now look at her"

He was right. Without Lo'ak to bounce off of. You no longer had any bite to your threats.

"This little nuisance Has really fallen"

"Do not call her that"

"oh but it wasn't me who did. Now was it Y/n?"

You wanted to gag. Wanted to have Eywa take you now and never let you see the light of day.

"no...it wasn't"

Neteyam just watched your face drop. Finally piecing it together. "oh ill go talk to him"

"no! i dont want that Neteyam. I dont want anything to do with him as he doesn't want anything to do with me"

"makes him sick. Like an unwanted curse" Ao'nung had commented back.

You could only bite back your tears.

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

From that point on. You had endured the negative feeling any time you saw Lo'ak make an attempt at talking with you. You had endured Ao'nung torture.

And it was a peaceful night before you heard Ao'nungs laugh behind you. You didnt even process him. Not that you cared enough.

Not anymore.

So long in thought and watching the waves go by that you hadn't realized Lo'ak Was here. Standing up for you.

No. You didnt need him.

" I dont need you to fight my battles you know?"

"I cant sit here and watch him berate you like this!"

"Thats rich coming from you!"

You couldnt hold it in anymore. Nothing in your body wanted more than to make him hear you. Make him see you for what you were.

"as i recall i was always "like an unwanted curse"

you could see him mentally slap himself. Throw in a shit as he finally understood why you've been so...standoffish around him.

"i dont need you in this moment to fight for me"

"Listen Y/n, i was-"

"I dont care! I dont care okay? What ever it was that made you hate me. Whatever it was that made you despise me i dont care!" You finally broke. You didnt care who stood and watched. You certainly couldn't bat an eye at Ao'nung who was watching this entire thing.

" I have spend my entire life doing and saying the things you want me to say to please The people around us. To please Dad and mom. To make Neteyam get off our back to cover for the mess you always make"

You couldn't care to voice your words nicely. You had enough.

"i've had about Enough of Always following in your shadow! Ive had it with always having to Take the fall with you when i only wanted to spend time with you without nearly dying or getting someone injured. there are not enough words to voice the pain i felt when you said you had enough of me. When i never been enough for our Father."

You choke on a sob wiping your eyes

"and I'm not going to sit by and not be enough for you!"

And you wouldn't be enough. But you were enough for yourself. And that would be okay. And Lo'ak had all the time in the world to make it up to you.

you didn't know how or when or what he would do. But That was enough for today

#avatar the way of water #atwow angst #atwow headcanons #lo'ak angst #Lo'ak #lo'ak x reader #but like siblings?#Ao'nung #neteyam #lo'ak sully #avatar loak #atwow imagines #atwow x reader

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mitsukiwa · 1 year

Text

Made for vice

A/N: You may have read this same one before but this one was edited; my other story was roughly draft also criticism is welcomed. If there are any mistakes pls let me know. Hope you enjoy. !MDNI!

word count:0.3k

You were forced, against your own will to be his. He took what soldier’s had fought for all mankind to have Freedom. Never had you ever thought it’d be something taken from your grasp. Simply because of a rejection, we all had that choice to make. But him he took it from you, whatever liberation you had before seized away from you.

The two of you encountered back in October. There was a coffee shop a few blocks down from your work building. The doors of the cafe dinged as a new customer entered, glancing up from your computer. There was a man of average height with a slim and narrow build, Captivating crimson wings.

You couldn't help but stare, knowing it may come out as crude despite having such fierce wings.

It's an astonishing sight to see something so surreal, golden irises staring back at you.

You quickly looked away, cheeks beginning to warm up at the reality that you were caught goggling.

It's not strange to have specialties like this in this world.

They're known as quirks. Quirks superhuman capabilities, that can be possessed. Along with being unique to each user. Quirks are sorted into different categories. Though then there's the quirkless to sum it up people who are are are born as ordinary normal whichever you want to call it. I'm one of those people born without a quirk. Those who are expected to rely on those with quirks, Those called heroes.

Yet not all heroes are flawless, there is always a flaw within them.

And I comprehend that by experience.

How it all began

You resumed typing away into your computer, Entirely ignoring the humiliation you'd just put yourself in a moment ago.

From your peripheral, you notice someone walking over to your table.

They cleared their throat to grab your attention.

you gaze up

it was the man you had just been staring at with a cup of coffee in hand.

Not sure if he came over to scold you about how rude it is to stare at a person.

wait...

you know this man he's a

hero

Known as the hero hawks, you've noticed him on the news.

Pro Hero Hawks

Number two hero

And he's standing in front of you right now?

''hello,'' he said with a grin.

You greeted him back.

'' would you care if I sit here?" he asked as he indicated the chair in front of you.

You couldn't help but look around the cafe. There were plenty of stools and tables unoccupied.

Yet you hummed a yes.

There was one word to describe what you deemed at the moment awkward.

''what's your career'' He suddenly asked.

You were surprised he even continued to try a conversation out of you. Nonetheless, you responded

''I'm an Author,''

he hummed

''interesting''

''And you?''

Sure, you already knew but still, you wanted to continue the conversation a little longer. Out of boredom really.

He gave a breathy laugh

'' you don't know?''

You shook your head

''no, sorry''

''well, that's a first,''

''what's your name?'' He asked

''what's yours,''

You were well aware, you probably sounded like a child right now.

He chuckled

''Takami''

''nice to meet you Takami,''

He had a shit-eating grin you wanted to punch off his face.

Why was he smirking?

''what's your name?''

You told him your last name, not really on first-name bases since you didn't know this man at all.

He repeated it himself. You felt a weird sensation at him pronouncing your name.

And you heard him say your name along with his ''Takami''

You widened your eyes at his boldness. How dare he say that you don't even know-

''I gotta head off duty calls,'' he said as he got up from the seat and stretched.

''wanna maybe give me your number? So I can call you later on?''

he had that shit-eating smirk again

''no, thank you''

Hawks was surprised. He's never been rejected before by anyone. Every girl he'd wink at would fall to his feet at a chance with him. He was popular with the ladies. However, you were different.

''I'm just glad at least I got your name.''

He waved you bye and exited through the glass doors of the cafe, you saw him flap his wings, as they slowly levitate him up into the sky, but before he was out of view, he winked at you flashing you his smile.

I hate him

But you don't know why, do you?

Is it because he made you feel something?

Or is it because you want to hate him, but you don't have a reason yet

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

''you met THE hawks!''

''yea,'' you said coolly

'' He was willing to ask for your number, and you refused!''

You knew exactly where this was going. Hori was your close friend from work. Knowing each other for three years is enough time to promote the title.

She was a ''big'' fan of the winged hero. It only made sense, She'd be mad I rejected her idol.

''Shimoda!''

''what is it ?''

''she rejected Hawks,''

''wait what you spoke to the Hawks ?''

you nodded. Honestly, it wasn't something to be proud of.

''He even asked for her number,''

And the discussion persisted. They got infuriated at you for being so hard-born.

Serendipity

fuck serendipity

Why?

Hmm, you may be asking at this very moment, Well simple serendipity fucked up your life.

It didn't leave things as they were no, instead it wanted to ''help'' out.

Your company had gotten a call around noontime. The caller had asked for you.

And, you were shocked to find out who it was. They claimed it was urgent to speak to you.

Which was weird for you, your parents never called you.

That right there could've been your red flag instead curiosity gets the best out of a person always.

''hello?''

''hey little nugget''

your brow furrowed.

what the actual hell was this

''Who is this?''

''aww, don't tell me you forgot about me already,''

The voice sounded familiar, it could be no other than

''Hawks?'' voice sounding high pitched though it wasn't intended to be.

''the one and only, ''

''how'd you get my works phone number?''

''I got my ways,'' he cleared his throat '' I was thinking... I could maybe take you out to dinner?''

cliche'

you thought as you rubbed your chin

''I'm busy,''

''C'mon, just let me take you out.'' he persisted

"I'll pick you up by the time you clock out,''

''I said no-''

Beep

fucken prick

You dreaded leaving work, and having to deal with a huge ego pro-hero exhausted you.

You never wanted more from him. He was the one who approached you, after all.

He went to extreme measures to find out your work location, which did startle you.

Of course, you didn't tell your work friend, knowing if you did, she'd make you go, so you kept this one to yourself.

You looked over to your mini clock located on the right corner of your work desk.

It read 8:30, and your eyes widened.

You groaned running your hand down your face.

god no

You thought to yourself.

Just great, so fucken great

You start thinking of ways to avoid him, but the thought that he is there blocks you from even thinking straight.

Grabbing your purse as you stood up from your chair.

Your phone chimed.

Without a second thought, you opened up the notification.

Hori<3:you wanna go to the bar with me and Shimoda

A wide smile made itself in your features.

And here I thought my luck wasn't any.

With newly made confidence, you grabbed your belongings and made your way to the front door of your work building.

Walking out of the building, the first thing you saw was a sports car, colors red and black.

The windows of the car rolled down and revealed hawks.

He gave you a boyish grin.

As he indicated you come over.

Reluctantly you did, Hawks then got off the car and walked over to the passenger's side, and opened the door for you.

"hawks something came up'' you begin your excuse.

''get in'' He demanded with an apathetic expression.

Whatever gentleness or outgoing aura he had before dissipated completely.

His voice raised, and you felt intimidated.

So you silently stepped into the car. The door slamming was heard, along with him mumbling something you couldn't quite hear from the inside of the vehicle.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, as he walked around the car.

The driver's door opened, and he stepped in slamming the door shut, and locking the doors.

He turned his head in your direction and gave you a tight-lipped smile.

''wasn't so hard was it?''

You opted to nod, not trusting your voice, knowing that at any given moment you'll break down into tears.

'' We need to get you something to wear, work clothes aren't very appropriate for this occasion''

Now realizing that he indeed has a nice dress shirt with black dress pants and a Rolex.

And you looked nothing superior to his level. If anything, you seemed like you were nothing.

The drive was about 20 minutes, and it being quiet was very uncomfortable, but you are glad you've finally made it.

The store he'd token you were an indeed expensive and a very well-known store.

Hawks then got off the car and walked over to your side to open the door for you.

You wanted nothing more than to puke.

He reached his hand out for you to take, which you hesitantly took.

The street lamps illuminated his gold irises perfectly. His red crimson wings seemed more contrasted.

He helped you out, closing the door behind you.

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you both walked to the entrance.

You both walked into the store.

Immediately you felt like you didn't belong.

Soon a worker came to assist the two.

She was stunning.

She had lengthy light brown hair with greenish-brown eyes. You were starting to feel envious.

'' How may I help the two of you'' she wore a bright smile.

''I need the finest dress in this shop''

Hawks sounded arrogant, it bugged you. You bite your bottom lip to avoid the commotion.

''all right, come this way, sir''

The women's heels clacked along the white floor as she walked over to a dressing room.

''wait here while I check for it''

He simply nodded as the woman took her to leave.

Hawks called out your name.

You turned your head in his direction.

''yes, hawks''

He then rolled his eyes, glaring at you.

'' Don't call me hawks call me Keigo.''

He wants you to call him by his name? And again, you did comply.

''sorry, I meant to say Keigo'' you corrected yourself.

The widest smile made itself on his features

you could've sworn his eyes were sparkling.

Soon she came back with a dress along with a manager.

''Hawks my man, how you doing'' the man conveyed in a cheerful voice.

''Great, I just need this one to look gorgeous for tonight''

He indicated to you.

Your face started heating as all eyes were on you. You hated too much attention.

''Don't worry we'll get that handled''

The man assured hawks, flashing you a smile.

Soon they left the fitting room to get ''the best dress'' they certainly have in stock.

''I would have gotten a dress tailored for you if I had planned '' Hawks voiced.

''you don't have to''

You stated, waving your hand dismissively.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You stared at yourself through the mirror, the dress fit perfectly, showing every curve on your body with enhancement.

You wore a black cami cowl neck midi dress, it looked stunning.

Through the mirror of the fitting view, you saw hawks on the bench, licking his lips at the sight of you.

You shyly look away

''I think that's the one, don't you think love?''

You nodded your head, not giving a verbal response.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The restaurant was beyond what you have imagined. The valet opened the doors to the car as you then stepped out.

Hawks walk alongside you with his arm snaked around your waist.

You fiddled with the expensive jewelry on your neck he had brought you before arriving at the restaurant. The pendant had a k with diamonds engraved on the insides of the k. The necklace felt heavy on your neck.

Suddenly you feel something tickle your cleavage. You glance down and notice a crimson feather in between your breast. You stare at it, confused, as you walk side by side with hawks up to the desk.

The waiter seated you shortly after, and you both sat at a secluded table.

''Isn't it perfect Babe'' hawks mussed.

You nodded.

You pulled the feather out of from in between your breast.

holding it in between your fingers

''Keigo why'd you do that?'' you said sternly.

''It's marking my territory, my little nugget.''

''territory? so now I'm owned'' You scoffed.

''Yea'' he said with a wide smile.

You couldn't believe this. What are you some object he can take a liking to, write his name on you?

''unbelievable''

''so, what are you ordering baby?''

The feather in between your finger then began to wiggle out of your hold as it flew its way back to your cleavage.

Looking down at the menu before you. Officially deciding that there was no way you'd make up your mind. All the dishes looked delicious your mouth was watering.

You ended up ordering a salad and water while hawks ordered chicken wings. Which for you was funny you were just about too close to comment on him and his wings but ended up biting your tongue once more.

For some reason was spent how any other couple would.

But you two weren't a couple.

''We should go to this nice hotel I saw-''

''it's getting a little late, and I have work tomorrow,'' you spoke.

Once again, hawk's face dropped, staring at you.

''But we can on my day off'' you tried

In an instant, his face lit up. It was rapid, you thought you were assuming things.

''so this means we'll see each other again?''

''sure''

As you were opening the door of the car to let yourself out, he quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you close.

His lips meet your own in a tender kiss. You felt pubes on his chin against your own. The kiss was short-lived as he then pulled away. Still in shock, you stepped out of the vehicle.

''ill text you later on,'' he said

'' you don't have my number'' you stated

''I do, and ill send you a selfie of myself to prove it''

''wait how'd you even get my phone number,''

''I have my ways, anyways.''

With that being said he wished you goodnight and drove away.

You walked over to the front door of your home.

All you wanted to do at this very moment was to take a warm shower and sleep in your comfy bed.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Your phone chimed repeatedly as you typed away on your laptop. You were just about to turn off the notifications when you read it.

You've seen the media little bird

You furrowed your brows at the nickname.

And wait what did he mean about the media?

The first thing you saw when you opened up the media was some gossip article about hawks. The title grabbed your attention in an instant.

Hawks' latest hookup?

Hawks secretly has a relationship.

Hawks spotted in the spatula restaurant!

What the actual fuck was this?

Your face was all over the media.

You heard whispers around you in your workspace as you scrolled through your phone.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

These past few days have been nothing but gossip about the number two hero and his secret relationship.

Even going as far as having to hide your appearance, you'd have paparazzi tailing you at any given moment to take a shot of you.

A buzz interrupted your train of thought pulling you back into reality.

Flicking your eyes over to the phone. The screen lit up a notification on the lock screen.

Skimming the notification

Annoying bird

New message

In all honesty, you didn't feel like responding. Knowing Keigo, he would probably come over to your house and confront you for not answering in at least 6 minutes.

Opening the message

Let's go out again.

You typed onto the phone's keyboard. Pressing the send button after you've typed your sentence.

I'm busy, maybe next time?

That was a lie, you were currently comfortable on your bed you had decided to call off work not in any mood to be confronted by your coworkers about your ''relationship'' with the hero.

Darting your eyes over to your nightstand you grab the red feather. That was placed on top of it.

Holding it in your hand, you stared into the crimson feather.

At any given moment, this soft delicate feather could turn into a razor-sharp knife, if he wanted it to.

You hummed as you placed it back on the nightstand.

The phone buzzed again

I'm picking you up from your house be there in 5 min

Wait, how´d he know?

You looked over to the feather beside you, brows furrowing in realization.

You heard your balconies sliding doors open, your head snapped to the direction of the noise.

You stepped quietly out of your room looking down the hallway. Eyes squinting to adjust to the darkness.

Now in your living room, you glance over to your balcony door.

It was closed switch locked

But you could´ve sworn you heard the door open

Dragging your feet over to turn on the living room lamp you heard a cabinet shut close.

Making your way over to the kitchen, you felt a strong arm grab you against him, slapping a hand over your mouth and muffling your whimpers.

''little bird, the second you hear someone come into your home you dial 911''

Your eyes widened.

He then let go of you.

Turning over to look him in the face, he wore a smirk.

''you scared me'' you barked.

''This just shows you wouldn't know what to do in that situation. Now I'm worried you can't protect yourself.''

you scoffed.

''no one really barges into my house without telling me first.''

'' I did tell you.''

''no, I told you I was busy'' you remarked.

''busy? you called off work today.''

He spits back.

Crossing your arms, you then said something you´d later come to regret.

''I'm not your girlfriend, stop acting as if I were.''

He stared at you intently, his slit pupils narrowing. His wings spread a bit as he walked over to you. This image of him looked intimidating, placing both his hands on your shoulders.

''you're going to be soon.''

______________⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆____________ /*yandere ml*/ ______________⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆____________

''Your home is small.''

''it's fine'' you retorted.

''you say that now but you´ll soon come to realize this place would be small for our kids to roam around.''

You stared at him with pure disbelief. Why would he imply such a thing, especially after you´d just told him you two were nothing, not even friends?

''Don't worry frills, I got enough money to find us a good enough house.''

He took one more step further close to you.

''no need to look so troubled'' He reached his hand out to cradle your cheek, and you pushed him back away from you.

But it seemed no matter how hard you tried to get away he was always one step ahead.

'' Of course, we´ll do everything the right way we´ll get engaged and have a wedding honeymoon. All that package.''

Suddenly the words caught in our throat, and your heartbeat was banging against your ears.

''it won't be the same as my parents did, I'll protect you and our soon-to-come family. And provide you with your needs. You'll be a queen.''

All of a sudden breathing was now hard to do.

You didn't dare move an inch.

As the feather was now against your neck, no longer soft but in its sharp form.

Those gold eyes stared directly into your awaiting an answer.

You swallowed hard, breathing in sharply.

slowly nodding your head.

At this, he beamed with excitement, the corners of his eyes crinkled along with his pearl-white canines in view.

He then embraced you in a not-too-tight but not-too-loose embrace.

Wings enclosing around you.

Your face was flushed against his chest.

''You really were meant for me, baby bird. ''

Too scared to even bite back you nodded against his chest.

The aroma of his cologne enveloped your senses.

''can't wait to be a Takami huh?''

you bite hard on your tongue to prevent yourself from saying something you'd regret.

''You no longer have to worry about financial shit'' He assured you in that sick sweet voice he's fooled many with.

''Your main concerns will only consist of worrying about the kids and the house being neat and cleaned'' His voice became soft in a soothing voice, almost too good to be true.

____________

''How'd you get my ring size?'' You questioned.

You don't remember ever giving it to him.

''remember that feather?'' he questioned.

As you recalled that feather that had curled around your finger as he told you it would be your temporary ring. A way to let many know you belonged to him. And every individual who saw it had an idea of who.

You nod your head.

Staring down at your hand

no doubt this ring must have cost more than what you earn a salary a year.

Although the ring fit perfectly, it felt, as if it were cutting off your finger's circulation.

''beautiful huh?''

''yes''

This ring should not be on you, but on someone who really was in a happy engagement, and you were certainly not.

''I tried to find one that was good enough for you, but if this is not what you want, I'll find you another.''

''no, it's okay, this one’s alright.''

''alright?'' he questioned eyes sharp.

You cleared your throat ''I meant divine it's beautiful.''

''not as much as you are frills.''

#hawks x you #yandere hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #bnha hawks #hawks x reader #bird boy #keigo x reader #keigo tamaki #my fic writing #all criticism appreciated #hawks x female reader

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notozthewizard · 1 year

Text

I'm no writer but listen. I've just realized how perfectly my old fantasy race fits in BBC Merlin's universe. Creatures literally made of tiny specks of stardust and enough energy condensed in one place and Merlin being the product of so much magic accumulated in the land for years after the ban, going "unharvested" and being contained until the land couldn't take that much anymore.

Hunith finds him one day in the woods. A little babe. Not even crying, just looking curiously at the world around him. And who is she to just leave him there to be found by who knows what? Yeah, he might have really sharp teeth, unnatural skin color and she definitely can't deny this little being's connection to magic but she has already helped a grown ass dragon lord. She's not going to leave an unarmed baby to fend for itself, thank you very much. So she takes him against her better judgment.

Merlin grows and learns everything pretty quickly. She notices the older he gets the more similarities he starts sharing with her. His hair turns darker and a little curly. His complexion soon mimics hers. And in what feels like mere moments he almost doesn't look like a magical creature at all. One day he leaves the house when she isn't looking. Someone in the village sees him but they don't notice anything abnormal about him. They're just surprised Hunith's sickly baby they've only heard about has grown so much. Hunith sighs in relief.

She started researching what kind of creature he may have been years ago but after the purge it was hard to find any kind of books and sources that might mention magical creatures, even those more common. And Merlin? Well, Merlin is something she has never even heard of. Whether in legends or stories told to her when she was just a kid. Where did he even come from? What happened to his parents?

At some point she contacts Gaius. He doesn't know much. He's heard of ancient and powerful creatures but there's so little to go off here. Maybe some legends? But no actual proven sources. So he turns to his books. And more of them. And another secret stash after that. And a hidden room with more illegal knowledge. Until he finally finds something that just might be a clue. Old sightings. Stories of ancient gods that blessed people's lands and healed the sick. Or mentions of evil devils hiding in caves and scaring everyone who dared to come by. Every single one of them has something that fits Merlin's story but none of them match entirely. And then it hits him. What if he's all of those creatures? Because they're one and the same, just interpreted very differently by different people. Some scared of magic, some not being able to imagine their life without it. Creatures changing their appearance to fit. Just like Merlin did.

Will definitely do some designs for this. Maybe quick illustration concepts. Also I can ramble so much longer about the details of this specific race so might also add another post with some more context to how I imagine these guys, what their role in the world is etc.

#me looking at this au: this bad boy can fit so much angst in it #you don't even know #you will soon though #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #merlin #hunith #bbc gaius #merlin au

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avatarl0v3r · 7 months

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Pink + White | Part Four

warnings/notes: strong language, italics with "quotes" = your video log of your time studying the fauna and flora of pandora/narration

bold = song lyrics

side notes: each phase will be associated with a song, phase ones song is Pink + White by frank ocean, these last two chapter's of this phase might be shorter by A LOT

pink + white master list.

part three

part five

taglist: @itscheybaby @brookesbizzareadvendture @jakesully-sbabygirl @myheartfollower @inlovewithpandora

Thats the same way you showed me, showed me

that night you went to the sully's home for dinner with your family's recipe of fried chicken. upon entering the home you were bombarded with hugs from the kids. “i missed you too” you said laughing at their reactions, finding the nearest table you sat the food down before hugging them back. after the interaction jake watched you have with his children he watched as you picked up the food and sat it down at the table.

the kids hurriedly ran to the table as if they’d been starved and grabbed away at the chicken you had brought “slow down so you don’t choke, i don’t need any of you dying over food” jake said in a joking yet serious tone causing you to laugh. finally, after eating your food, the kids wanted you to stay longer which you agreed to even though you didn’t have time-jake watched as you played with the kids with a sad smile on his face.

he wished neytiri was here to see how big the kids had gotten in such a short amount of time, watching you bringing life into them again made him feel happy. he had found his new source of happiness.

You showed me love

a month or so later your time spent with the sully’s mainly jake became a daily habit, even amanté noticed and brought it up himself. “y/n/n, so whats goin on with you and jake?” you looked up at him from your chair confused “what about me and jake?” you said sarcastically. amanté rolled his eyes “first you're a shitty liar and you dare to attempt to lie to me! of all people your twin brother,” he put a fist over his heart like it was in pain “i’m hurt, but no real shit you two are always seen together whether it be alone or with the kids.”

you sighed and stood up putting your sample back into its container “i don’t know, maybe i’m looking too deep into it, you know?” he stared at you like you were the dumbest person on earth-well pandora-“are you crazy, of course, your not looking to deep into it have you seen the way he looks at you.” you looked at him hopefully.

“i’ve been here since tuks birth and neytiris death, trust me y/n…you given him his spark back.”

Glory from above

Regard my dear

—

meanwhile jake was talking to norm about his newfound feelings “norm, i don’t know what to do” jake said into his hands while talking to norm. “you have feelings correct?” he said looking at his friend, he was met with silence.

jake was fighting a battle in his mind, if he was to try again with you it would feel like throwing away his love for neytiri, he was scared because he knew the long-gone na'vi still watched over their families and loved ones. he also knew the feelings he has for you weren't an illusion as he tried to make it out to seem. everyone knew it was clear as day that he wanted to be more with you than just "friends."

he sighed before looking at norm "i have to go," he said rapidly standing up-norm following suit-"thanks for the advice" norm stood there as jake jogged away. he yelled back to him "wha- what advice!" but once again jake didn't seem to hear him.

jake jogged back to camp and grabbed his ikran and took off. since the tree of voices was destroyed years ago, there was only one place jake could talk to neytiri the tree of souls.

when jake arrived at the tree of souls he looked around. the feeling of sorrow crashed into him like a tsunami, all the memories here in one spot with neytiri. he stopped walking when he was met with a vine, he inhaled shakily before connecting his kuru and closing his eyes. he knew who he wanted to talk to.

"ma jake" jake opened his eyes to see neytiri standing there with her arms open, look just as heavenly as she did the day he met her. "neytiri," he said staring at her his voice barely above a whisper. his eyes wide and his heart beating erratically as he ran towards her engulfing her in a hug. "why have you come here?" she said pulling away he only looked away not wanting to meet her eyes, but she patiently waited for him to respond "I've met someone..." he waited for her to give him a angry response over him finding someone else, but it never came.

he was met with a soft smile instead "is she good with the children?" he smiled at the thought of you taking the responsibility to help raise the children even without him asking "yes" she kept asking him more questions, and with every answer her smile grew "your eyes glow when you talk about her this makes me happy to see you in such a state, do you love her?" he searched her eyes to find anything in them, but failed to find anything.

"i do" neytiri's smile grew even wider to see her jake in love and happy again since her passing, she cupped his face "just because you now love another doesn't mean you've replaced me, nor does it replace my love for you," she backed away "you know what you must do ma jake."

he opened his eyes and was back at the tree of souls a large smile had found its way upon his face as he ran to his ikran and headed back to high camp.

It's all downhill from here

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bluewhale52 · 1 year

Text

Little Black Book: The Endgame

Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these six hold a special place in your heart. Until Kim Namjoon entered your life, and you realised the endgame was near.

Pairing: Namjoon x female OC, a cameo by Seokjin, and Yoongi, some indirect cameo ofJungkook, Hoseok, Joon’s sister, Joon’s mom, OC mom… it’s a lot okay I know

Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!

Genre: non idol au, strangers to lovers, established relationship

WC: 8.2k

Warning: swearing, explicit sex acts, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (protected and unprotected), mirror sex, multiple orgasms, Joon's big dick and BDE, Joon's sexy body, talk of threesome, some jealousy, Joon is a little possessive, daddy Joon, some angst A/N: FINALLY THE END IS HERE! Thank you to sexy YTC Run BTS Namjoon for giving me the inspiration and the drive to complete this chapter. Everything here is unbetaed, as I was just too eager to get it done and published, so sincere apologies in advance. Also, segments of the story are not chronological, so... sorry also if you get confused. But I like being ambiguous even if that confuses my readers. Sorry. Lastly, ENJOY! Series Masterlist: Little Black Book

You walked back into the large hall, where your firm’s annual office party was being held. You felt a bit weird, you had never done anything this daring in public before. Well, not since Hoseok fucked you against a tree in a backyard during a house party years ago. But you could not deny your boyfriend’s request, not when the glint in his dragon eyes and the little smirk in his mouth (enough to produce that damned dimple on his cheek) promised you a delicious reward.

So here you were, coming back from a quick trip to the restroom, with your thong bunched up tightly in your fist.

And there he was in all his glory- black turtleneck that showed off his chest, slim-fit black pants that made his legs look even longer, and those fucking glasses that made him look so innocent but you knew, oh you knew, how naughty he could be.

Namjoon noticed you approaching so he opened his arm, and you slithered right to his side, sliding your thong into his pants back pocket. His dimples deepened at your movement, and anyone watching would think he was just smitten with you, but you were well aware of what lay beneath- the urge to give you the kind of pounding that would put you on cloud nine for days and days. You clenched yourself hard, hoping with all hopes that nothing was leaking out to betray your secret state of undress. God, you were such a horny mess.

“You both are so in love it’s making me sick.”

You turned to your boss, raising an eyebrow at his snide remark. “Jealous much?”

Seokjin snorted at your retort, but to your surprise, did not say anything back. Keeping his eyes on you, he downed his champagne, and you saw his ears getting redder, from alcohol perhaps, or really, jealousy? Namjoon chuckled into your hair, while his hand glided down from your waist to the small of your back, then lower still to the top of your ass. He let out a hum, no doubt pleased he no longer felt the outline of your thong under your skirt. His touch was intoxicating, but you still watched Seokjin like a hawk.

Min Yoongi, who was standing next to your boss, cleared his throat. “You know you don’t have to keep playing my album, right? I think it’s been looped three times now.”

Seokjin slapped his back playfully. “Ah, you are one of our biggest clients! We have to support you!” You saw Yoongi hiding a small smile behind his drink. How typical, he always liked fishing for compliments despite his nonchalant demeanor.

“We’re basically using your music to brag.” You snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Why do you think our shareholders AND their kids are here?”

Seokjin clicked a finger gun at you. “She’s smart, this one, that’s why she’s my protege.” Seokjin motioned for another drink. You counted five from the start of the night, this would be his sixth. He was drinking too fast and too much; it was quite unlike him. “Do you know she’s the one who brought Yoongi in?” The question was directed at Namjoon and your boyfriend dully nodded. “Told me her friend was looking for a law firm to represent him. The whole office nearly lost it when agustd himself walked in. Some couldn’t believe they were looking at agustd in the flesh, some couldn’t believe YOU were actually friends with him!”

Seokjin’s signature laughter boomed in the hall, causing some people to turn to look at your little group. Namjoon and Yoongi laughed along politely, but you continued to feel uneasy over Seokjin’s behavior. “You know, you never told us how you two became friends,” he eyed you and Yoongi.

“Ah,” you paused, looking at the rapper. His face remained expressionless, yet you knew he was giving you the rein to control the story, especially with your boyfriend present.

“We actually met at a bar, and he thought I was… a prostitute.”

Seokjin nearly spat out his drink. Namjoon squeezed your waist a little too tightly. Yoongi suddenly found a very interesting spot on the floor.

“You know my old boss,” you reminded Seokjin, “he liked to take his clients to those kinds of places, and I always had to tag along to pay their bills and get taxis for everyone, all that shit.”

Seokjin scoffed. “Yeah, he was a creep. The best thing I did after moving here from New York was transfer you to my team.”

Namjoon squeezed your waist again, his fingers dug deeper into your flesh.

“So, yeah, that’s how I first met Yoongi. Told him I wasn’t what he thought I was, gave him my card instead.” Then he made you cum with his tongue in the bar’s restroom. Twice.

“After that night, we met up a few times when he needed help with some legal issues about plagiarism, libel, and stuff like that. ” And you sucked his dick in his studio. Sometimes he bent you over his recording equipment to eat you out too.

“I’m just glad he trusts me- us,” you corrected yourself quickly, “enough to represent him now.” You trusted him enough to make a sex tape with him. You still had a copy of it. As he did.

Yoongi nodded. “Wouldn’t have anyone else.”

Your boss stared at you pointedly. What was wrong with him? You felt like he knew something and was trying to pry it out of you here of all places. He knew you had a few fuck buddies, apart from himself, before Namjoon came into the picture, but you never shared names. Did Seokjin suspect you had been sleeping with Yoongi? Was he trying to get it out in the open to make Namjoon jealous? But why? There was nothing in it for him, unless he was just being petty, unless… could it be possible? That he was jealous over you going steady with Namjoon and thus depriving him off his weekly fuck session with you? He could not possibly be that childish… but then again, Seokjin could be unpredictable. Especially with six glasses of champagne in his system.

“All right,” your boss sighed and put his arms around Yoongi, “I think it’s time to show you off to our shareholders. Those lovebirds look like they have better things to do anyway. Right?” He winked then directed the music producer to another part of the hall.

Your brows furrowed, you were still nowhere near clarity over his odd behavior. You had no time to analyze that further however, for Namjoon’s hand started traveling down to cup your ass.

“Joon! People can see!” You smacked his chest.

“Let them see. I want everyone to know I own this ass.” He pulled you around till you were flushed to his front. You shivered when you felt he was already hard. “You wear this skirt to work everyday, baby?”

You hugged him back, arms tight around his waist. He smelled so good, so manly, you just could not get enough of him, especially with his erection poking at your abdomen. “Not everyday, just when I need to feel good and powerful.”

“Hmm, is that so? I think you just like it when your boss and clients ogle you.”

You stepped back to look at him, your cheeks burning uncontrollably. You definitely felt called out. “Who? Them?”

His face still looked friendly and amiable, but you sensed his energy had taken a more intense turn. “I’ve seen how they look at you, especially at this ass.” He squeezed again, much harder this time, making no effort to hide what he was doing. His touch burned through your skirt onto your skin, and you wish you could stop the flow of arousal leaking onto your inner thighs.

“Fuck, Joon,” you whimpered. “They’re not… I… shit, let’s just go home now.”

He chuckled. “Okay, baby. I’ll wipe you down in the taxi if you get too wet.” He patted his back pocket, where your thong was.

He wiped you down that night, all right. He made you cum over and over with his fingers so he could wipe your creamy cum off of his fingers with your thong, and once he was satisfied, he sucked on the soaked material till you begged him to fuck you. And like a good boyfriend he was, he gave you what you asked, and more, until you lay spent, unable to move, your body oversensitized but somehow your mind still ended up wondering what was going on with Seokjin.

~~~

Your chopsticks clattered noisily on the table, interrupting the conversation between Namjoon and his little sister in the busy restaurant.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, recovering quickly and gripping the chopsticks a little tighter. “Did you say you’re going on a date with Jungkook this Friday?”

Namjoon’s sister nodded. “Yeah, he asked me to go to the arcade with him. Which is a bit unusual,” she smiled shyly, her dimples prominent on her cheeks, “but I like that idea. It’ll be more fun and casual, right?” Your boyfriend nodded, humming in pleasure, from both food and his sister’s excitement.

“I didn’t know you know Jungkook.”

“Friday will be their first meeting, I set them up. She’s been complaining about all the shitty boys in her uni. Thought Jungkook would make a good match with her.”

Namjoon slurped his noodles. Namjoon’s sister was sweet and kind, and as smart as her big brother. But with Jungkook? You simply could not see it.

“Ah, I see,” you forced a smile. “I didn’t know you were setting them up.”

Namjoon glanced at you. “Oh, was I supposed to?”

“Well, it’d be nice to know before you planned all that. He’s my friend.”

“He’s my friend too.”

You poked at your dumpling a little too aggressively. “Well Namjoon, I’ve been friends with him longer than you have, so yes, you should’ve told me!”

“I didn’t think that mattered. I spend as much time with him as you do, if not more.”

“I introduced you to him, it mattered.” You muttered, fully aware how childish you were sounding.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re overreacting.”

Your boyfriend’s off-handed comment set you off, enough to push your food away before standing up. “I’m going to the restroom.” You grabbed your bag and coat, and instead of the toilet, you headed to the exit. You heard Namjoon curse, and his sister worriedly asking him if everything was all right.

Once you stepped out, cold air immediately assaulted your senses, giving you a sudden clarity, and with it, came guilt. You could not understand why you reacted the way you did. No, you had to stop lying to yourself- you knew exactly why. Jungkook asked you out to an arcade a long time ago, and why you turned him down. You simply hated the fact that someone else actually said yes, even when that someone was your own boyfriend’s sweet little sister.

You sighed when you felt a rush of warm air from the restaurant’s door behind you, signaling that Namjoon had come out to see you. He was right, you overreacted, but damned if you were going to apologize. You stood by your opinion, however rashed and illogical, that you should have been involved in the plan from the beginning.

“What the hell was that?” Namjoon finally asked when the silence stretched a little too long.

You took a deep breath; you were a little calmer, but you still tried to answer him carefully. “Jungkook is my friend. One of my closest friends. I’m just upset you set him up with your sister without talking about it with me first.”

Your boyfriend tilted his head, observing you. “I honestly didn’t think it would upset you this much. Actually, I thought you’d be happy for both of them.”

“I’m protective of him, okay?” You snapped. “He’s been through so much shit with people he thought he could trust, so I just wanted to make-”

“And you think my sister isn’t trustworthy enough?” Namjoon cut you off, the ice in his voice biting.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But it’s implied, very clearly.”

You refused to give him any response, not when you could not even comprehend the jumbled emotions you were feeling. You folded your arms defiantly and faced away from your boyfriend.

“What’s Jungkook to you, really?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You kept your back to Namjoon. “A friend.”

“Just a friend?”

“A client, who became a really good friend. Okay?”

Namjoon’s eyes were boring through your back. “I told you, I don’t like being lied to.” Despite his level and calm voice, you still felt the anger brimming underneath.

“And I told you, Jungkook was a client, who became a really good friend.” You finally turned to look at your boyfriend, your eyes set on his, staring back at him sternly. However his lack of response continued to feed the uneasiness in you. Your heart beat faster, every logical instinct in you screamed for you to look away, but you could not. You had to stare him down for him to believe your words.

“Okay,” he reached out to cup your cheek. Despite the gentle gesture, you still held your breath. “Let’s go back inside, she’s worried.”

Embarrassment filled you, and your flight instinct kicked in. “You go,Joon. Finish your dinner with your sister. I’ll call her later to apologize.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” You turned away, avoiding your boyfriend’s questioning look. You flagged down a taxi “Are you coming back to my place?”

His jaws clenched, he was clearly unhappy but he still opened the taxi door for you, ever the gentleman. “I’m not going to yours tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

The finality in his tone was followed by a slam of the door. You watched him go back into the restaurant, long strides leading him away from you without even a glance back. You exhaled shakily, angry and disappointed at yourself. You decided you did not want to be alone, you did not want to go home if he was not going to be there later. So you gave the taxi driver Hoseok’s address, instead of yours.

~~~

You came home to Namjoon’s place earlier than planned, to the sound of the shower running. Namjoon must have just gotten home too, you thought, and you plopped down on his bed, debating whether to join him or wait for him to finish.

Before you could make a decision, you noticed his notebook- the one where he wrote down all his musings and short poems- open on his side of the bed. You never looked through the book, only reading what he wanted to show you. Curiosity got the better of you, though, so you took a peek.

If I could be under your skin

Closer than we’ve ever been

Wanna lock you up in my sight

But you run away like fish

You stared at his scribbles. Were these lines about you? Was that how he felt about you? Your chest thumped, your mind reeled back to the conversation you had with Hoseok earlier that night.

“Marriage and kids, Hoseok, that’s what he wants.”

“Then tell him that’s not what you want.”

“What if I lose him?”

“Then you lose him. Isn’t it better than living in a lie? Pretending to want something you actually don’t?”

Your heart constricted. Did Namjoon know, was that the reason he wrote these down?

“I know it’s hard, babe. I can see how Namjoon makes you happy, but his golden dick aside, you’re not built for the long run. You and I are the same, we’re too selfish, we’re better off on our own.”

Was that true what Hoseok said? You had been free, yes, before Namjoon, doing things on your own terms and satisfying your urges on your own schedule. But being with Namjoon was good too. He was kind, he challenged you intellectually, he gave you attention the way none of your previous fuck buddies ever did once sex was over. That was not a bad thing, was it? And you knew you gave a lot to Namjoon too. The museums, the parks, the poetry reading and discussion- you gave him your time for all that. Were you supposed to give more?

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the bathroom door opened. You immediately move to stand up, away from the notebook, pretending you just got home then instead of a few minutes earlier.

“You’re home,” your boyfriend greeted you in surprise. “Thought you’d party longer with Hoseok tonight.”

You stared wide eyed at Namjoon- bare chest, towel slung low on his hips. He ruffled his wet hair with his hands, biceps flexing naturally.

“Can’t keep up with his energy anymore, besides why would I waste my time there when this is waiting for me at home?” You made your way to the bathroom, brushing your hand across his abs as you walked past him. You surprised yourself at how calm you sounded.

He followed you, chuckling at your teasing. He leaned on the bathroom door as you started removing your makeup at the sink. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you going to put any clothes on?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Am I distracting you?”

“You’re going to catch a cold.” You scolded, but he just folded his arms across his broad chest. “How was your night with Yoongi?”

“It was good, he’s turning me into a whiskey drinker.” He moved to stand behind you, you could see from his reflection how his eyes were roaming up and down your body. The reaction in you was instantaneous. You pressed your legs together to dam the growing arousal. “He invited me to write some lyrics with him.”

“Really? Joon! That’s amazing!” You straightened up and attempted to turn to hug him, but his arms stopped you, keeping your back to him. You watched his reflection intently; the way a rumble escaped his throat when he pulled the zipper of your dress down, the way he bit his lower lip as he pushed the garment off your shoulders, the way he purred as the material fell around your ankles, leaving you in your lacy bra and thong, and your trusted thigh high stockings.

“Kim Namjoon, poet and lyricist,” you shuddered as his large hands ghosted over your bare skin. “Fuck, that’s so hot, Joon.”

He smirked. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that. Was planning to celebrate with you tomorrow,” he paused to trail kisses from your shoulder to your neck. “didn’t want to tire you out tonight, but it looks like you’re ready for our own private party, aren’t you baby?” His hand slithered under your thong, and your eyes fluttered shut as he ran a single digit between your folds, enticing more wetness to seep out.

“Open your eyes, baby. Watch yourself while I finger you open.”

His thick, long finger pushed its way into your hole, his palm flushed against your throbbing sex, keeping you in place. You exhaled shakily, as you forced your eyes open, and your mind immediately short circuited at what you saw. His large hand bulged underneath your little thong, stretching the material as he finger fucked you.

“That’s it, baby,” another digit joined in, “keep watching, look at how much you enjoy my fingers.”

Eyes transfixed on your own reflection, you clenched harder around his pumping fingers. Your face was bare of makeup and pasty, eyes red from the party and the alcohol, but all your senses were lit up on fire and he continued to stroke it to burn hotter and brighter. You mewled when a third finger joined into your hole, and you gripped his wrist, half in protest, half in encouragement. You felt stretched, but not yet full.

Namjoon wrapped his free hand around your waist and pulled you up, his hard chest plastered against your back. “Breathe, baby, relax,” he soothed you, “you know I gotta stretch you out, your little pussy’s too tight for my cock.”

You whimpered at his words. For a poet, he had such a dirty mouth. And he knew how much you liked it.

“Can you take one more, hmm?” The hand on your middle traveled up to latch on your breast. “Or do you think you’re ready for me?”

You grinded on his crotch as a response, both mouth and cunt salivating at the hardness nestled on your back.

“You want it now, don’t you?” He pulled his fingers out and you panted, eyes still locked with his, although a lot more glazed with lust and unbridled desires. He tugged his towel loose, letting it fall to the floor. He moved his hand from your breast to the space between your shoulder blades, pushing your body down and forward. With your ass sticking out, he spanked the flesh a few times before pulling your thong roughly off you.

“Why do you even wear this pathetic thing,” he tutted, tossing your underwear to the floor. He then cupped your asscheeks to open you up, to have your pulsating center opened and exposed to his eyes. “New house rule, baby. You’re only allowed to wear these stockings here, nothing else. Gotta keep you ready for my cock at all times.”

He slapped his length on your sopping pussy a few times, eliciting cries out of your mouth. He truly could turn you into a sopping mess with such little effort. Desperate, you pushed yourself back at him, your eyes and body begging for him as your mind melted in horniness, unable to form any sentences to tell him what you wanted.

Namjoon understood immediately- he was tuned in to you like that, having learned how your body responded to his stimuli. He lined himself to your dripping entrance and started pushing in deeper and deeper.

You gave up trying to keep your eyes open. “Ah, daddy…”

“That’s right, baby,” he bottomed out. “Who’s your daddy?”

“You… you…”

He pulled out slowly then pushed himself back in even more excruciatingly slow. “What’s your daddy’s name?”

If I could be under your skin…

“Namjoon,” you breathed out, “Kim Namjoon. Oh!”

He slammed in, spearing you into delirium in one movement. “Fuck, baby,” he puffed, “wish you could see how hot you are right now. Shit. You got your phone in here?”

You tightened at what he was hinting at.

“You want that, baby? We should record ourselves, huh? You’d love this, your puffy lips around my cock, fuck!” His pace quickened. The slapping sounds of your skin and his grew deafening. “And these thigh highs? Fucking hell!”

He faltered once, and you knew he was losing the iron grip control he normally displayed during sex. You raised yourself up, grasping the back of his neck, anchoring yourself. In return, he wrapped you tighter to his chest, his large hands clutching your breasts, as if they were a lifeline for his sanity.

Closer than we’ve ever been…

Your eyes locked onto the bodies in the mirror, watching the pornographic scene. Molded to his body, he continued pounding you from behind, bouncing you on his cock. You slid a hand down to your clit, thrumming the bud frantically to chase your orgasm.

“Keep your eyes open, baby, watch us, watch us cum together.” His shaky voice was desperate, needy.

Wanna lock you up in my sight…

You kept on attacking your clit, feeling the heat rising and rising till it finally exploded, your eyes instinctively closing as your body froze in ecstasy, cunt clamping down on his cock. A growl penetrated your haze, he released his seed deep into you as his muscly arms nearly crushed your body.

But you ran away like fish…

Tears running down your face, you breathlessly clung to him, not willing to let him go just yet.

~~~

The kitchen was quiet except for the sounds of dishes clattering and your hissing at Namjoon to be careful.

“God knows where Seokjin bought all these from. Our combined salary isn't enough to cover any damages.” You passed another plate to your boyfriend, glaring at him as a warning to be more careful.

“It’s just a plate.” He took the plate and dried it with a dishtowel, before putting it ever so slowly on the counter. You rolled your eyes at his exaggeration.

“Yes, and again, that plate probably costs more than your precious art books. Why the hell does Seokjin not have a dishwasher in here?”

Namjoon scoffed, and continued taking the washed dishes from you to dry them. It was utterly domestic, you thought, especially since you and your boyfriend used the kitchen only to make coffee and the occasional ramyeon. Sharing living space with him was surprisingly easy, for you had your own corners of organized chaos- his tower of books by the sofa, your piles of documents by your side of the bed, his shoes taking half of the space by the entryway, your own thrown into a rack nearby. He had his own mess, you had yours; he left yours alone and you did not touch his. It was a perfect co-existence.

So doing something as simple as washing dishes- even in your boss’ kitchen- felt somewhat special. Namjoon seemed to feel the same; he was humming and throwing you little smiles, but it turned out he had something else in mind.

“Remember what you asked me a few days ago?”

“You have to be more specific. I asked a lot of things from you.”

He lowered his voice. “I’m referring to the threesome.”

You dropped the metal ladle you were rinsing into the sink, the clanging noise echoed loudly through the kitchen, and beyond. “Don’t break anything!” Seokjin shouted from the living room. You glared at your boyfriend. Namjoon held back a giggle, and you both stayed quiet until Seokjin and Jungkook’s laughter filled the apartment again.

“They’re busy gaming, they won’t hear us.” Namjoon took the ladle and dried it dutifully. You moved on to wash the chopsticks.

“If I remember correctly, you dismissed my question that night,” you shot him an accusatory look. “Why are you suddenly asking now?”

He took the rinsed chopsticks from you and wiped them down before half-throwing them onto the drying rack. You winced; your gentle giant had already forgotten the warning you gave him earlier.

“I’ve kind of been thinking about it.”

“Oh?” You reached for the silver spoons in the sink, scrubbing it to the rhythm of your increasing heartbeat.

“I’ve thought,” his voice went lower into a whisper, like the kind he used to whisper his dirty talk into your ear, “if we were to do it, it’d have to be with someone we’re both comfortable with, right?”

With your eyes still glued on the spoons, you nodded.

“So, I kind of went through the list of our mutual friends, for someone we might invite to our bed.”

You rinsed the spoons, the warm water from the tap only made you feel more feverish. Was this what domesticity was about? Talking about sexual fantasies and kinks while doing the most mundane household chore?

“And?” You stole a glance at your boyfriend.

“What do you think of Seokjin?”

Upon hearing the name, you paused and turned slowly to face your boyfriend. Was he serious? Was he really considering having your very handsome, very hot boss involved in a sexual act with the two of you?

“He’s handsome, and I think he’d be fun. But yeah, that’d put you in an awkward situation, right?” Namjoon murmured, taking your silence as a sign of disapproval. “I thought of Jungkook too, but he probably would get too competitive, and I’m not going to go head to head with someone who hates losing.”

You were flabbergasted. You did not expect your boyfriend to have this deep of an analysis to a question you had asked when drunk.

“Hoseok, maybe?” Your boyfriend continued, scratching his chin. You were losing your mind. Namjoon’s expression was serious, deep in thought, and he kept talking, getting the thoughts out of his brilliant brain to weigh all the pros and cons. It was so logical and systematic, the way he was picking out which of your friend’s cock he would allow you to have, as if he was deciding which bicycle to buy. “But it’s tricky because you used to date, right? What if during the threesome sparks flew again between you two and I got kicked out.”

“We did not date. We tried, and failed spectacularly.” You found your voice to protest. Hoseok would not be too bad of a choice. He was fun and adventurous, his physique was different from Namjoon’s, and you had to admit the two of them painted a very tantalizing picture in your mind. Moreover, your boyfriend and your best friend both had a very similar tendency to take charge. You liked the idea indeed.

“Nah, I’m not taking my chances. Are you done with those?” He pointed at the spoons in your hands. You had been rinsing them under the running water. He took them from you to wipe them down, before throwing them onto the drying rack. You winced again at the sound, and in your heightened state, a whiny gasp escaped.

The sound did not go unnoticed. A corner of his mouth went up as he wiped his hands dry. He then turned to you, taking your hands into his. He started wiping your fingers one by one. The air had shifted, tension coiling around you both.

“That leaves us with Yoongi,” you dared to say. Namjoon’s jaw clenched.

“Or the jazz singer,” dragon eyes bored into yours. “There must be a reason you introduced me to him.”

Heart pounding, you attempted to put on a coy smile, although inside you were panicking. It was hitting a little too close to a memory you did not want to resurrect. “He’s a good singer and I just thought you’d enjoy listening to his stuff.”

He bit his lower lip and your knees nearly buckled. It was not fair how easily your body reacted to him; you were like a Pavlovian bitch in heat. “He’s drop dead gorgeous too. You have a thing for musicians, don’t you?”

You knew he was baiting you so you had to judge if giving him a little more glimpse of your past would favor you or anger him. Instinctively, you wanted to provoke him a little; a jealous Namjoon was a dominant Namjoon, and you were addicted to that side of him.

“I have a thing,” you placed your hands on his chest, enjoying the hard muscles there, “for a poet who can make me swoon and drench my panties in a single stanza.”

The rumble in his chest signaled his contentment to your words. “And does this poet satisfy you?”

Your hands snaked around his neck. “In more ways than one,” you purred, stroking his ego further.

“Good,” he gripped your chin. He did not need to say more, you understood from the sharp gaze of his eyes and the pressure on your skin that the conversation was over. A mixture of disappointment and arousal brimmed over you in the form of a sigh, and he descended on your mouth. You resigned to his eager lips and tongue, and raised yourself on your toes to clutch onto him tighter, to show him- and yourself- that he was more than enough for you, that you needed no one else but him.

The kiss turned feverish quickly, and you fought the urge to climb and wrap your legs around him. He sensed your desperate need, his hands cupped your ass roughly but before he could lift you up, a voice interrupted your impromptu hot and heavy makeout session.

“Do not soil my kitchen, please.” Seokjin walked past you to get a new bottle of sikhye. Despite his warning words, his eyes ogled your ass covered in Namjoon’s large hands. “Go fuck like rabbits at your own place, not here.”

You bit back a squeal when Namjoon squeezed your ass cheek a little too harshly. You looked up at him and noticed his sharp jawline twitched once, then twice. A gush of arousal flooded your panties instantly, and you knew what lay ahead when you got back home.

~~~

“Um, I don’t think this is my table.”

You looked up from your book to find a towering figure of a man, dressed casually in a matching yellow sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking down at you with a confused expression on his face.

“This is the table Mrs. Shin has reserved, sir,” the restaurant hostess explained politely, though a little patronizing.

“Yet that is not my mother,” the man pointed at you.

“I was supposed to meet MY mother for lunch; this table is under her name, isn’t it?” You questioned the hostess, the same person who had led you to this very table just a few minutes earlier.

“Ah, yes, the table was reserved under two names,” she checked her slim tablet and read out the names, “for two people.”

You looked at the man, both of you sporting a bewildered yet determined look at the mix-up. You would not give up the table you were already at for this man and his mother, no matter how intimidating he looked in yellow. And tall. And big. And handsome.

The hostess interrupted your staredown. “My apologies, there is a recent note left on the reservation. Mrs Shin wrote that,” she looked at you, her customer service smile in full force, “her son and her friend’s daughter will be taking the table instead.”

“Huh?” The man looked even more lost. You fished out your phone to call and question your mother.

The hostess raised her eyebrows, her fake smile still intact. “This is your table, sir.”

“But, my mo-”

“She set you up. Your mothers set you up.”

Your thumb paused over the green call button. “What do you mean by that?”

“This is a blind date,” the woman sounded exasperated. “That man is your blind date. And she’s your blind date, sir.”

She pulled the chair across from you for the man, as if to emphasize her point, as well as a signal that her part in whatever plan your mother had cooked up was done. The man eyed you carefully; he still looked confused, you thought, but there was a splash of curiosity in his almond eyes.

You thanked the hostess, and shook your head as she bounded away, free at last.

“My mom did mention she met an old high school friend a couple of weeks ago,” the man sighed with a soft laugh. “I’m betting my life savings your mom mentioned something similar to you too?”

You nodded, your mother had indeed. “Yup. Now that she’s retired, she seems to be always up to no good.”

The man chuckled, and your eyes widened at the deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Well, so what now?”

Did his voice just go lower? “We can throw this back at them,” you leaned forward, and he mimicked your movement. You swallowed. He was very handsome indeed, but there was something else that made him very attractive… you couldn’t put a finger to it.

“What have you got in mind?”

Sex appeal. That was it. This man was oozing with sex appeal. “We could tell them we left the moment we found out their plan, but,” you licked your lips, “at least the sex was phenomenal.”

Cocking his head, he stared you down. You had done this before, with more formidable opponents, across a conference room or in a courtroom, but you had never felt this exposed; his eyes continued boring through yours, making your cheeks burn uncontrollably.

He shifted in his seat to lean in more, to get even closer to you, clasping his hands on the table. You glanced down- dear god, his hands were big, and you knew what they said about big hands.

“I like that plan, but you see, I have a little problem with that,” his voice was low and gravely, and you felt like you were running out of air to breathe. “I don’t lie to my mother. So the sex… it’d better be phenomenal.”

You bit your lower lip, preventing a moan from escaping. Fucking hell, where had this man been all your life?

“Deal.” You packed your things and stood up. He followed suit. The hostess looked at you quizzically as you left, and you did not hear what the man said to her to make her gasp audibly. The low rumble of laughter followed you out and into a taxi. After a quick discussion, it was surmised that his place was much closer, and you both stayed quiet during the short drive. You did not trust yourself to say anything, not even to ask for his name, for you were sure the only thing that would come out of your mouth was loud, appreciative hums over how long his legs were, how big his thighs looked under the sweatpants, how long his fingers were gripping his kneecap, and how HOT he felt sitting next to you. In short, you were a horny mess, and you did not need the taxi driver to witness the lack of impropriety you were willing to commit for the man next to you.

On arrival, he ushered you out and with his palm firm on the small of your back, he led you up to his door. He stepped in front of you to key in his code, it again hit you how BIG he was. You realized he was not much taller than Seokjin and Taehyung, but why was he so big?

The door opened with a beep and he stepped in, you hot on his heels. Right after you both removed your shoes, he turned to you, literally sandwiching you between the door and his wall of a chest.

“You sure about this?”

You looked up at him, at his dark dragon eyes, at his jaws clenching. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”

He leaned down towards you and you raised yourself on your toes to meet him halfway. The kiss started soft, safe, the bravado from the restaurant seemed to dissipate, taken over by the curiosity of new touch, new taste, new sensation. You tilted your head to let him in more, for his tongue to slither in, to lick into your mouth, and when you moaned against his mouth, he lifted you up so effortlessly, giving relief to your calves.

You wrapped your legs around his waist (god, what a tree to climb this man was), and his large hands cupped your ass, keeping you secure in his hold. You felt him moving, and you opened your eyes when he broke the kiss to explore your neck. He was walking to his bedroom, you presumed, andyou saw flashes of leafy green and wood undertones in his apartment. Combined with the bright yellow color he had on, your mind wondered briefly who he really was.

He lay you down on his bed, his hands left your ass to hastily undress you- impatience kicking in, clothes strewn about to the floor, until you were lying under him, skin rubbing against skin as your mouths met again to swallow each other’s moans. His hand roamed to graze against your hard nipple, then down between your legs, an appreciative hum vibrated in his chest at the wetness found there.

His face appeared in your vision as he raised himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. His eyes widened a little when your face scrunched a little, a reaction to his thick finger finding his way deep into your hole. He shuffled to spread your legs with his, all the while still pinning you down with his large body, leaving you little room to move.

You gripped his biceps when a second finger went in, moaning helplessly at the intrusion. His eyes never left you- they were watching you like a hawk for every pleasure and displeasure, observing you carefully to know when and how far he could go.

A hitched breath from you lifted a corner of his mouth up, and he moved his fingers faster. You held on to him more tightly, your manicured nails digging into his skin, determined to leave their marks. You could hear how wet you were, his fingers juicing more and more liquid out of you, and then you felt it. A brush against that promising spot inside you that made you gasp and tighten, and you knew from the look in his eyes that he got you. Hook, line and sinker.

He shifted again, to spread your legs wider and to grip your hair, to ensure that you were looking at him and him only, his fingers not losing an ounce of momentum. He coaxed you higher and higher, and you held your eyes open as much as you could, not daring to break his eye contact.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you,” his low voice loud amidst the squelching sounds from down below, “I can feel it.”

You could not find the words to answer him, so your hands left his biceps for his shoulders, holding on to them for dear life.

“Come on baby, cum on my fingers, gotta get you as wet as possible for daddy’s big cock.”

That did it. You immediately careened into your climax, pussy clamping down yet his fingers still moved, even faster. You nearly cried when he pulled out so suddenly, leaving you so agonizingly empty, but a wet swipe of tongue made your back arched precariously high, and you lost control of what was happening when his mouth worked you to… prolong your orgasm? Or was this a back to back orgasm? Fuck, you did not care, you just wanted more and more and more.

You whimpered, your body oversensitized in the best of ways, and he finally left your quivering pussy. You felt him leave the bed altogether, and you wanted to protest, but no words came out other than wordless sounds begging him to come back. The bed dipped so you lifted your head, only to find him rolling a condom down his cock, and fuck, what a cock! If you thought Taehyung was big, this was another definition altogether.

He lined himself up and looked at you for a green light. You nodded, bracing yourself for what to come. He entered slowly- so painfully slow- and you understood he did not want to hurt you, but your cunt was aching so much, you just wanted him to split you open with his big dick and make you see stars for days. And so you did what you never, ever did with anyone else.

“Daddy,” you breathed out the honorific, “just fuck me hard please.”

His whole body froze. “You sure?”

“Yes. I’m so fucking horny,” you held his gaze and repeated your request, “ just fuck me hard as hard as you can. Please.”

You heard a growl- he growled, dear god!- before you felt the full girth and length of his cock ramming into you. You cried as he fucked you like you had asked him to, hard and fast, making his bed creak, the sound competing against the slapping of your skins and the wails from your mouth. He lifted your legs, resting them on his sweaty chest as he pounded you, then he slowed down when he felt you closing in to your climax. You sobbed in pure neediness, but he pulled out and flipped you over, and in one smooth motion, he was back inside again, fucking you into the mattress. His large hand was on your neck to hold you down, the other kneading and smacking your ass.

“No marks, no marks,” you panted in a moment of clarity. You let go enough to call him daddy, but not enough for him to leave marks on you.

He complied immediately, leaning down to pin your body as he continued to pound you. His hands searched for yours, to link his fingers with yours as his hips started to stutter.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned to your neck. You clenched. “Come with me, baby, come- fuck!”

The final climax took you out, you blinked away the post-orgasm haze as he removed himself from you, freeing you from his body weight. You could not move, except to gingerly turn your head to look at him, lying next to you on his back, his chest rising up and down.

“That was amazing.”

“Amazing is not phenomenal,” you managed to say, voice hoarse. Your throat was so parched. “You’d still be lying to your mom.”

He chuckled. “Give me five minutes. Then we can try again.”

“Sounds good,” you agreed. “I’m _______, by the way.”

“I’m Namjoon.” His arm reached over to shake your lifeless one. “Nice to meet you. Do you like poetry?”

You called your mother later that night, annoyed at first at her attempt to set you up, but ended up telling her you would be meeting Namjoon again, maybe for a museum date in a week or so. No, not this coming week, you were swamped with work (and a threesome appointment but she definitely did not need to know that) and yes, he was very nice, and yes, she picked a winner, and no, let us not be too hasty, you would like to take it slow, though in your mind you already knew you wanted to see him again, and again, to have him fuck the living daylights out of you with his golden dick. But of course, you said nothing of the sort to your mother.

~~~

TONIGHT

You look at your phone again. 11:58pm.

Namjoon said he would be back soon, and that was an hour ago. You aren’t worried, you know he’s at Yoongi’s studio. The two of them have gotten along like houses on fire, musically and otherwise, and you should feel happy, right? Your investment banker turned published poet boyfriend is now writing song lyrics with and for the hottest music producer in the country. That’s hot, that’s fucking sexy.

But still, you feel annoyed. You love that your friends get along with Namjoon, but lately it seems Namjoon prefers spending time with them more than with you. Granted you nearly killed his bonsai after he entrusted you to look after it during his family vacation in Japan. And that you complained non stop during a 15-minute bicycle ride along the river. And that you nag him over the mess he left in the bathroom. And that he dislikes how you kick him awake when he starts snoring.

And when petty bickering makes its way into full-blown arguments.

And when you face away from each other when you go to bed.

And when you keep refusing his invitation to spend the big holidays with his family. Which now includes Jungkook.

And when you evade any question about the future.

‘Let’s just see how we go’ is banned from your vocabulary, unless for the moments when you feel especially petty to pick a fight with him.

You sigh. You might as well go to sleep now; even if he comes home in the next five seconds, what are you going to do? The sex is still good, but you’re far from in the mood for it. You sigh again while making yourself comfortable under the blanket, willing yourself to fall asleep.

Only sleep continues to evade you. Too many thoughts are running through your head, and one in particular is shouting louder than the rest. You block it out. Shut up. Sleep.

And still, you lie awake. Till the door beeps, signaling your boyfriend returning home. You keep your body unmoving, eyes vacant, staring at the window, away from your bedroom door. You hear him come in, and there is a hint of alcohol in the air now. Your heart sinks. He wasn’t just working with Yoongi, he was also drinking with Yoongi. The realization gives an ominous feeling.

You hold your breath when the bed dips. So he decides to get in bed even without changing. Great. Then you feel his breath on your neck.

“Baby? You awake?”

An instinct to stay quiet and continue lying like a dead fish crosses your mind, but your heart aches, and you know tonight might just be the night.

You rollover to find yourself face to face with him. His hair is longer now, messy, ruffled no doubt by the winter winds outside because he forgot to wear his beanie again. You reach out to tuck an errand strand behind his ear. He smiles gently.

You continue staring at each other, so many words to be said yet none is said at all. It feels like he knows as well as you do, the chapter is ending and another is starting. You both have avoided this conversation far too long, stringing each other along with the amazing sex and soul shaking orgasms. You take a deep breath, and he does too. It is time.

“I think we should break up.”

A/N: dont hate me for the ending please 😅 I just can't see any other way for the series to end, esp after the Jimin chapter. Come shout at me if you're upset. Or you can reblog so more readers can see how much I hate happy endings ☺️ Thank you for reading! Series Masterlist: Little Black Book

Published 06022023 Crossposted to my ao3

#btswritersclub #bangtanwritershq #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #namjoon x oc #namjoon x reader #little black book

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amunyan · 2 months

Text

Lets continue this little story :) I hope you like it.

The person she trusts most... (2/3)

Huddled together, you fall towards the lava, which seems to be the end of you. But when that doesn't happen, you slowly dare to open your eyes.

„Well, aren't you lucky...“ Mereoleona looks at you with a mixture of relief and reproach, „that the volcano's eruptions subside at this time of day, and with them the power of the wild mana. Otherwise you would be nothing more than a pile of ash. That, and that the lava can no longer harm me...“

You look around in confusion, trying to sort out your thoughts.

The flame mage, still wrapped in her flames, more mana than human, had actually managed to catch you in time.

„She didn't even begin to give it her all,“ you say, offended, as she lets you drop back to the safe ground, where your wobbly knees cause you to land on your butt. „She's still got that insane speed. Not to mention the fact that she can still use Manazone after the 'fight'. You let out a deep sigh and cross your arms. But you find it uncomfortable, and moments later you rest your chin on your left hand. „Had all my training been for nothing? Must I train harder? While...“ Your gaze wanders up to Mereoleona. She is more human than Mana now, tucking a short lock of her red hair behind her ear as she looks down at you with a telling smile that shows her fangs. Only now do you notice that she has cut her long mane short. When you meet her gaze, you swallow - suspecting trouble. But she just grins at you and puts her hands on her hips.

„You've really grown a lot in the last few months, (Y/N), “she praises you. „Your mana feels different. It seems like you have finally found your self-confidence“.

„Maybe... It was hard after you left me all alone.“ You are still a little grumpy when she offers you her hand. Tentatively, you take it and let her help you up. Surprisingly, she pulls you into an intimate embrace.

She is so close you can feel her heart beating. The warmth of her breath on your skin. It has been a long time since you felt her this close.

Hesitantly, you raise your arms, clinging precariously to the fabric of her dark blue jacket, your head resting on her shoulder with bated breath.

„Yes... It was really hard after you left me. And also finding the courage to come here to look for you. I really thought you had forgotten me...“ you whisper in a low, trembling voice.

„How can I forget the person I trust the most? “ Her fingertips claw deeper into your skin as she firmly disagrees. She pulls you closer as you notice she's trembling. „The person who saved me and saw me at my worst. How can I ever forget you? “

„Mereoleona? “

Yes, you were the one who really saw her at her worst...

-A few years ago-

Raindrops beat incessantly against the roof of your homely tent. Thanks to a few magic items and a protective magic circle, it is all snugly warm and dry inside.

„Another stormy night, “ you think to yourself as you sort through the herbs you gathered during the day. Typical autumn weather; nothing special.

You, (Y/N), were well known as a wandering apothecary in the towns close to the borders of the Clover Kingdom. The ability to heal wounds and diseases with magic was very rare in these forgotten corners of the realm. So there was a need for someone like you to help the people. For as long as you can remember, they have welcomed you and your knowledge of medicinal herbs with open arms.

Even though you were not capable of using healing magic, either.

But it is not only herbs that fascinate you, since they are the basis of all your magical powers. You have always been drawn to a darker side. Poison is what has intrigued you since childhood...

Just as you are about to call it a day and extinguish the light of the storm lantern, a disturbing scream echoes through the undergrowth. Startled, you look up. In the distance, you can hear another scream.

„That doesn't sound good. Is it some kind of a fight? “ Unsure, you consider going to investigate.

„There are dangerous creatures in this area... At worst I'll have to pitch my tent somewhere else.” You listen into the night for a moment. You can still hear the rumbling in the distance. „Damn... I don't want to deal with this...“

But you know it is the safer option, rather than just pretending everything is fine and going to bed. The terrifying creatures that roamed these areas, Chimeras, a mixture of a wildcat and a scorpion's tail, were not only strong and able to fly with their leathery wings, but also poisonous; Manticores.

You had already felt their power in your own body, because you wanted to use the poisonous sting of these creatures for your medicine... Once again, you can do without. But you must go and check anyway.

You reach for your moss-green cloak and throw it over your shoulders. With the large hood pulled low over your face and a queasy feeling in your stomach, you step out into the cold, wet night.

The strong wind whips the chill and rain into your face. But you stubbornly walk towards the sounds of battle through the muddy forest floor.

And indeed, you were not mistaken; it is a manticore that was making the noise. But not alone.

„Someone actually dares to fight that thing,“ you realise in horror. „Is she all right?“

From your position, half hidden behind a tree, you can make out a young woman with long, wild auburn hair. „Almost like a lion's mane...“ you murmur, instantly spellbound. The way she leaps around the winged beast, almost as if gravity does not affect her, and fights with flaming fists. And indeed, she seems to be able to match the Manticore's power. Disturbed but fascinated, you take cover behind the tree and watch the fight. „Even though her movements seem so sluggish, it's amazing that she can do that. But she doesn't seem to know that the thorns are poisonous...“

The young woman seems actually very carefree with her opponent and has no fear of contact. In the short time, you have been watching, you had noticed several times that she had at least grazed some of the poisonous spikes that the creature could fire from its tail like pistol shots, even pierced her a few times.

„And the ones that got stuck don't seem to bother her at all. She just left them stuck...That she is still standing upright? What is she? A superhuman?“ Still, you can clearly see that she has lost a lot of speed since the last attack. The question of whether or not you should help her is slowly but surely coming to your mind... „ At least I could tell her that the spikes are poisonous?“

But one look at her grim face tells you that you'd better not interfere - and she'd probably already realised that information about the poison by herself... This is her fight, accidental or not.

A cold shiver runs down your spine and you shake yourself. „Better not... But I could still stay. Maybe I can bum the poison spike if she really wins against that beast.“

But at the same moment, you hear a pitiful groan and watch wide-eyed as the unknown fighter falls to the ground, badly beaten. She remains motionless.

Almost as a stupid reflex, without thinking twice, you let your guard down. „Hey!“ you hear yourself shout.

Moments later, as the winged beast looks at you, your heart sinks. Startled by your sudden courage, you find yourself forced to act, now in the manticore’s sights.

„My fighting skills aren't really worth mentioning... Damn, what was I thinking?“

With an irrepressible thirst for battle, the Chimera lunges at you. You close your eyes and raise your arms in defence. „Flowery scent of oblivion,“ you mutter, and a foul-smelling potpourri of scents envelops the manticore, which is less than impressed.

Its large, sharp-clawed paws lash out at you. You try to dodge, but they catch you viciously by the hips. You fall to the ground with a muffled cry of pain. You feel the warm blood running down your body and at the same moment a hand grabs your shoulder.

„Get out of my way. How dare you?!“ With a rough motion, the woman pulls you behind her.

„Calidus… Brachium…”Her voice cracks as she reaches out and delivers the final blow to the manticore. The last one needed to finish it... Still completely perplexed by what has just happened, you sit there holding the bleeding wound in your hand.

„At least it's gone...“ you breathe a sigh of relief as you hear an angry noise. You swallow before slowly turning around to realise that you may have another problem - far worse than the chimera.

„Tell me, how dare you, you idiot! That was my fight. And if you're going to interfere, do it properly and don't back down,“ she scolds you as a violent coughing fit interrupts her. She had just been wobbly on her feet. Now her legs buckle and she falls forward towards you. She claws at your shoulders as you support her, startled.

„What a fucking mess,“ she mumbles helplessly.

„You had a bad cold, and on top of that you were poisoned. It's clear that your body didn't simply process it,“ you comment, sinking deeper into the embrace as the memories of your first meeting come flooding back.

You decide to take the still angry woman into your tent to care for her. However, the first challenge you must face before you can care for her is her strength; even though she has been beaten up by a Manticore, is poisoned and suffers from a glowing forehead, she is still stronger than you. She vehemently refuses to be aided by you and wants to walk alone. Preferably far away from you. But as the poison slowly but surely spreads and takes effect, she gives in and let you guide her to your tent, where you put her down in your bed. Almost too weak to resist anymore, she allows you to have a look at her injuries.

„Good girl,“ you praise her as she finally gives in, while you open her jacket to take a closer look at her body. She has multiple cuts on her arms and her white shirt is torn. Less serious injuries too. Nothing that wouldn't heal on its own. But you are concerned about the puncture wounds where the manticore had injected the toxin into her body. Several of the marks, mostly on her torso, had turned dark red and a rash was spreading around them. There was also a sting in her thigh...

All the symptoms of poison were familiar to you, the rash and the shallow breathing. Also the dizziness, which you can observe well... But her high fever alerts you...

You quickly return to your desk, where you were sorting herbs earlier. You reach for your mortar and pestle, your hands slide across the shelf where you have stored the herbs in brown glass jars. Your fingers know exactly where to reach and which ingredients would help the woman. Something for the swelling and rash on her skin, and something for the pain she was obviously hiding.

As you apply a poultice of different herbs to her bumps and bruises, you introduce yourself: „I am (Y/N) and you are?“

„You're not a healer, are you?“ She asks in a deep, trembling voice. Ignoring your question.

Her gaze passes you by. With tired eyes she looks at your herb collection and the brown apothecary bottles on the shelf.

You just nod silently. „I'm a kind of apothecary. An herbalist. Not a doctor or a healer... But I know how to treat wounds and stuff... And poisons.“

„Is this your magic?“ she asks, and you shake your head.

„Herbal magic,“ you answer calmly as you bandage her wounds under her meticulous gaze, carefully - you don't want to hurt her any more - pulling the stinger out of her thigh and finally treating that wound as well. You can sense that she does not really trust you. How much she resents that. At least that's how you interpret it...

„I'm sorry I can't help you with healing magic,“ you apologise, completely unsettled. „You're from near the capital, aren't you? At least judging by your clothes. It looks more noble than what the people wear here on the edge of the kingdom.“

„You have a good eye... My name is Mereoleona Vermillion.“

You could have heard a pin drop.

„Vermillion? She's one of the high nobility. Not only that... If she is that Mereoleona Vermillion, then she's the strongest woman in all of Clover...“ You swallow and fix the last bandage on her body with trembling hands. „I'm sorry, I just...“

You can't finish your sentence because she hits you in the forehead at the same moment.

„Don't act like there's nothing you can do. Here - you mixed the slurry all by yourself, didn't you?“

You nod with an applied look.

„See? Besides, I don't give a shit about provenance and all that. So can I go back when you're done here?“

„What? No!“ You vehemently try to push her back into bed. Explain that she's not going anywhere with her high temperature. „You're drenched in sweat. Besides, the ointment I just applied is only helping with the swelling and the rash. You're still poisoned. Believe me, your body can hardly deal with this on its own...“

„Oh, the little cold, the little poison. I've dealt with worse,“ she shrugs in a hoarse voice and tries to get up. But her body is too weak and shaky. Then she gets a coughing attack. But she stubbornly tries to get up as you push against her.

„It is not just a little cold and a little poison. Even if you're said to be the strongest woman in all of Clover, you'll catch your death out there in the rain in your condition. Don't be stupid.”

You build up more pressure and are about to immobilise her with your herbal magic when the tension in her body eases and you land on top of her, unprepared.

She is so close you can feel her thin breath on your skin. Her pale blue eyes, glassy yet penetrating, are studying you.

„ At least do you have an antidote?“ She pointed her head at the sting, still lying on the low shelf next to the bed. „Are you at least going to boil one?“

„No. Not yet...“ you denied. „And just synthesise one with the sting - forget it. It would take way too long. But you're not the only one here who has dealt with these chimeras...“ you say calmly and pull yourself up again. Walking over to your desk, you light a candle with matches. Then you take a knife and slowly and carefully heat the blade over the flame...

Yes, you had fought these beasts before. More than once. (And lost every time.) But all you wanted was their stings, which you got. But you never thought of synthesising an antidote.

„Because of my passion, my body has a natural barrier against poisons... Other wounds are more difficult for me to deal with. The bark of the thorn was more important to me than an actual antidote, aside from the milky sap of the poison, which in very small amounts helps with heart ailments...“

Mereoleona looks at you with wide eyes as you slowly bring the knife to your left palm and apply pressure...

Lost in thought, you clench your left hand into a fist, the scar still visible on the palm. „I really thought you were crazy back then,“ Mereoleona whispers.

„Huh?“ You make a questioning noise, but she continues. „That was the worst time of my life... It hit me harder than I ever thought it would. I have never been so sick. Even as a child I was always healthy... Or recovered in a few days. But this?! You really saw me at my worst. But you helped me without hesitation. You were even crazy enough to cut your own hand open for an antidote...“

„It is my passion to explode poisons and herbs. And I'm glad this attempt went well...“

„Attempt?“ She pushes away, still holding onto your shoulders, and looks at you doubtfully. „You mean I was your guinea pig?“

„In a way,“ you admit sheepishly, trying to smile. „It was the only chance I had... Your fever from the cold was so terribly high and your body so awfully weak. Even when the poisoning was over, the fever stayed and made me worry about you. But you fought a hard battle... You're so indescribably strong. That's what fascinated me about you.“

„So are you,“ she says. „I don't know why, but I knew I could trust you. The way you looked at my wounds. When you mixed the medicine, your hands knew their way by heart. Even though you always waved it off as no big deal, to me it was. I realised you were strong - in a different way to me.” You remember how Mereoleona freaked out when she learned you didn't have any combat skills. She thought you were a skilled fighter because you lived alone in the forest and travelled from town to town. So she wants you to learn the basics of fighting. It seemed important to her to know that you were safe and could defend yourself if necessary. So you tried hard to impress the fiery woman you were slowly falling in love with.

„ So it hurt even more to see you beating yourself up because you did not believe in your abilities. It seemed you wanted to be as good as me from the start... But with every mistake you made, you doubted yourself more and more. You didn't even see how great you really were. You still are. Worse, you pretended more and more and gave up on yourself completely. It made me so damn angry that the girl I trust with all my heart, the one I love so much, destroyed herself...“

You look down in shame as you realise what she's just said.

„The... The girl you love?“ You repeat, looking at her in surprise.

She looks back with a soft, almost unfamiliar smile on her lips. „I still owed you an answer.“

#black clover #creative wrting #x reader #mereoleona vermillion #x fem!reader

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airi-p4 · 6 months

Text

Pretend boyfriend - Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Ch2 | Ch3 ____________________

Summary:

Chat Noir tells Ladybug in a spaz that he has a boyfriend and asks Luka to pretend and fill in for the role for a double date with her and her boyfriend. The problem is he's trying to make Ladybug jealous… and Luka is caught in the middle of it when he's also the spotted hero's date.

AO3

________________________

Chapter 3: Chat Noir finds out

A knock on the window alerted Luka. He wasn't expecting a superhero visit that early afternoon. Especially not-

"Chat Noir?" He stood up to open his window and let the cat hero in. He looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Luka… I- yesterday evening… In the greenhouse of the Liberty… I've seen…" he nervously scratched his hair. Until he dared to ask. "A-are you dating Marinette…?"

"Oh-" it escaped Luka. He and Marinette had agreed to date in secret. For now. Just in case her secret identity could be compromised. But some days had passed since then and they became less careful lately. And if Chat had seen them yesterday evening, when they had been cuddling and kissing while they had some relaxing music on, then… there was no point in hiding it anymore. "Yes, I am."

"Oh… Congratulations." He struggled a little to say those words. He had feelings for him, after all. And now…

"Thank you. I'm sorry you found out like this. We wanted to tell you, but we didn't know when or how."

"No, it's okay. You made your feelings very clear the first time. It wasn't unexpected." Even if it still hurts… he mumbled to himself. "You two seem happy, so I'm happy for you."

"Thank you."

They shared a hug- one last hug, Chat Noir feared, so he lingered in for a bit longer than necessary. Luka understood that and allowed him to. After they separated, Chat Noir suddenly got stiff and nervous again.

"What's wrong?" Luka asked, noticing his unusual behavior.

"Actually… I wanted to ask you something…" His voice trembled a little. Why?

"Sure." Luka showed him full attention.

"Well…" Chat gulped nervously. He’d had that idea since he found out about Luka dating Marinette… That idea that had never actually left his mind since a long, long while ago… He took a deep breath and launched the question: "Do you think Ladybug will date me now that you're dating Marinette…?"

"NO."

"Eh?" Luka's answer was so direct and flat that it startled the cat hero. "B-but-! If I keep trying- then someday-! We're meant to be and-!"

"NO," Luka repeated, shushing him. "That's not how it works, Chat." He sighed and then patted his bed, inviting him to sit down. "Come here, I think you have a few things to learn about consent, boundaries, and love…"

Chat Noir nodded and took a seat as he listened attentively to Luka's eye-opening lecture.

_________

An hour later, Marinette crossed the gangplank of the Liberty and moved towards Luka's room with little excited skips.

"Luka!" She happily entered her boyfriend’s room and- "UAH! Chat Noir!?" She jumped backwards, and, for a moment, she forgot she was Marinette. "Why are you here!? I told you to leave Luka alone and-"

Chat Noir turned to her and Marinette was astonished at the sight; he was bawling, full of tears and snots. "Marinette…"

"Uah! What's wrong?" It took her aback.

"I'm so sorry- I will leave Luka alone- I will leave Ladybug alone, too- I didn't realize I was hurting them with my insistence and lack of tact…" He sobbed. "I realize now how selfish I was, thinking I was the only one hurt out of it- not thinking enough about others’ feelings or Parisians' safety! I’m so sorry- so sorry," he bawled.

"Chat…" Marinette gasped in surprise.

"I need to go! I have to apologize to Ladybug!" He wiped his tears and snots with a handkerchief Luka gave him and left through the window. "Thank you, Luka! Bye!"

The room stayed silent for a minute.

"What was that about…?" Marinette finally asked her boyfriend, still trying to process the situation.

"You heard him. He wants to apologize to Ladybug. I think you should go." He winked.

"I can't believe it. You put some common sense in his brain? Amazing." She kissed his lips, to his delight. "I'll be right back. You can eat some macarons meanwhile." He nodded. "I won't believe this until I see it… Tikki, Spots on!"

Ladybug jumped through the fisheye window of Luka’s room after Chat Noir. She wasn't back until one hour later.

"Luka! I can't believe it! He really did apologize!! He said he'll be professional and prioritize Paris now instead of flirting!" She detransformed, giving her boyfriend a big hug. "I mean- I'm probably not going to actually believe it until I see it with my own eyes but this is such a big step! Thank you so much, Luka!" she leaned in to give him an effusive kiss he gladly accepted.

"You're welcome." He kissed her back.

“I have the impression things are going to get so much better while fighting akumas now. I’m so relieved the message finally got through his thick head.” She giggled. She clearly felt a weight off her shoulders.

"Well, it's not like I wanted him to flirt with my girlfriend. There's that, too." He winked playfully. She giggled, pleased at that.

"So- how can I thank you? With kisses?" Marinette sat on his lap, one hand on his face while the other was on his shoulder for stability. His hands found comfort surrounding her waist.

"Kisses sound great." He leaned in, giving her a peck on her cheek.

“Okay then,” she started. “This one is for Ladybug.” She kissed him once. “This one, for Marinette.” She kissed him again. “This one is for you.” She made it last longer than the previous ones. Warm. Intense. Passionate, too. Filled with lots of love and gratitude. Love he absolutely reciprocated. She panted a little when they broke the kiss, feeling a swarm of butterflies in her belly.

“I’m loving these ‘thank yous.’ Best ‘thank you’ I’ve ever received,” Luka joked, pulling her closer, their noses touching with matching breathing.

“There’s more,” Marinette giggled, playfully. “This one is for ugh- for Chat.” That one was a quick peck on the cheek. He couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. Cute. “And this one is for Paris.”

Now- that was a KISS. A deep kiss that brought both of them on top of the Eiffel Tower- the world theirs, at their feet, but only them existed. They separated due to their lack of air.

“Wow… That was-” Luka panted. “Tell me there’s more.”

“There’s… more…” Marinette hummed between deep breathing. “I’m going to give you a kiss for each one of Paris' citizens,” she smiled playfully. “Every one except Hawk Moth.”

“Uah-” Luka blushed in anticipation, his smile going wide. “As I said- Best. Thank you. Ever.” She giggled when he pulled her to lie down on his bed, making Marinette fall on top of him. “Bring it on.”

Marinette giggled as she kissed him again and again, and he couldn’t help it but to kiss her back every time, despite her occasional protests: “I’m the one thanking you!” and he would chuckle and kiss her again. They kept going on until Juleka kicked them out for being too embarrassing. They laughed at that. Many kisses remained, she was sure, despite having lost count of them a long time ago. They parted ways with one last kiss. “See you tomorrow.”

Back at home, in her bed, Marinette couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come so she could keep showing him all her love and Paris’ gratefulness. Luka couldn’t wait either.

FIN

#my fic #airip4 #lukanette fic #endgame lukanette

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crackinglamb · 11 months

Text

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @fadedsweater (like two weeks ago, ack), @theluckywizard and @anneapocalypse, thank you all! 💕

Tagging @ir0n-angel, @effelants, @lilbittymonster, @the-desert-dancer, @chrideart, @fiadhaisteach, @mogwaei and @serial-chillr. No pressure.

Biggest WIP right now is getting my back where it's supposed to be. Preferably without torquing my leg muscles into pretzels. Which is why I haven't been writing as much as usual. HOWEVER, the muse returned after months away at the war and I've gotten back into a groove this week with WG. Have a bit of HLTA, Imogen style.

---

“Ahh, a visitor,” a bodiless voice said, reverberating through the space. “Welcome, Imogen McLean. I have long been expecting you.”

Imogen stood tall, her hand halfway to her bow over her shoulder. “I told you that someday I would come, and I would cut you down to size.”

“I remember,” the voice of the Nightmare replied. “You are brave to enter this realm, and I salute you for it. But do not think I cannot feel your fear, even now. The fear of failure, of exhaustion and despair.” The demon laughed. It was a rich, rolling sound that felt like it should shake the ground, and yet it remained stable beneath her feet. “Come then, take your gift if you dare. I know you have sought it.”

“What is it talking about, Genny?” Hawke asked, her staff already held in her hands, ready at a moment’s notice to cast or swing like a cudgel.

“I’m missing the memory of how I got to Thedas. I’ve always known the Nightmare took it.”

“I took more from you than that, little fly,” the Nightmare taunted.

All at once she remembered Geldauran calling her that. A little fly caught in the web of something larger. Why is it always the Maker damned spiders? One of three last lines of a sacrificed Champion. It gave her strength now, feeling Hawke’s presence at her shoulder, while Solas stood at the other. Her friends gathered around her, fighting willingly at her behest. She was not powerless here. She would not give in to fear.

“Hmm, the very definition of bravery,” the Nightmare said as if she’d spoken the thought aloud. “But I am remiss, for you have brought company with you on this visit. The one who feels my voice creep up his spine into his head, the one who fears to mirror his past, the one who fears the opposite of death, the one who could not save anyone and...ah, yes, the harellan. Greetings.”

She ran the list through her head, identifying each member of her squad as their fears were named. Bull, Dorian, Terisin, Elly and Solas. The only one she wasn’t familiar with was Ter’s, but she could guess at it. Kal-Sharok had changed him, and now he was no longer a mere mortal. He would likely outlive everyone he knew and loved. Immortality was not a blessing, but a curse.

“Just words,” she said softly to her companions. “It wants to throw us off, make us think of these things so it can feed off them. Focus.”

“We once spoke on the nature of killing an idea, did we not, Inquisitor?” the Nightmare said. “It was an entertaining exchange.”

“I’m sure it was,” she called out into the expanse of green fog and glittering black stone. “But you will get no fuel from me now. As you might recall, I believe that was also when I told you that repetition dulls the experience of you. You have no power over me that matters.”

“Perhaps not. But you are not the only one here.”

“And you have yet to show your ugly face. Which one of us is afraid?”

#tagged #wip whenever #what a wicked game to play #imogen mclean #the nightmare demon #here lies the abyss

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tenebraevesper · 6 months

Text

Five Nights at Freddy's: Salvaged, Night 20: Left Behind

''I was left behind! All this torture will unwind, I was never all that kind! If you were to rewind, then you would find I was left behind! Take your turn to run and hide, I will catch you all the time! This night no longer shines, your tears divine, you'll now be mine! We hope you enjoyed the show within your grave down below!''

– Left Behind by DAGames (Five Nights at Freddy's: Sister Location)

xXxXxXx

Connor knocked on the door of the manager's office, waiting for the lazy ''Come in!'', and entered it. The manager was an elderly man who looked like he'd rather be at home and drinking beer than at this establishment.

''Ah, Mr. Davis, is there anything you need?'' the manager asked. Connor took a deep breath.

''I wanted to voice my concerns about the recent events. A lazy security guard and a missing employee isn't very good for Ricky's. I was wondering whether I could, aside from doing my regular job, also apply for the night guard job,'' Connor said, with the manager frowning. He then added, ''I would just make sure no one is on the premises after closure in order to prevent more accidents like this.''

''I will have to think about this, but considering how you're a longtime employee, have a clean record, are usually the last one to leave and we still cannot find a replacement night guard, you might get the job. Of course, we will also have to discuss your hours and paycheck for that,'' the manager said.

''I believe we will find a solution that problem,'' Connor replied, with the manager rising an eyebrow. ''It doesn't have to even be official. I'll just be on the closing shift as usual, but leave a while later after making sure no one is here.''

He knew that it wouldn't take much to convince the manager. He knew that he wanted to cut costs while pretending that everything was running smoothly and by the book. Not to mention, putting an employee as reliable as Connor was on the night guard position would spare him the hassle of having to hire a new night guard, especially since the day shift guard refused to take the night shift.

''I guess you're getting a promotion then,'' the manager said.

''Thank you, sir,'' Connor replied, exiting the office and walking towards the main area, grinning.

xXx

Sam yawned, checking her phone. It was late evening, with her and Springtrap being in her room after having finished cleaning the kitchen. Emma was a little upset about the broken dishes, although she didn't mourn the vase, calling it ugly and noting how she wanted to replace it anyways. However, she was glad things didn't escalate and Sam didn't end up scarred or worse.

''You seem to be really satisfied about this,'' Springtrap told Sam.

''Of course I am. After all, I managed to help someone improve their life, or rather, afterlife,'' Sam replied.

''Honestly, I'm just glad that she's gone,'' Springtrap said, with Sam noticing the bitterness in his tone. Before she could question him, they heard shuffling in front of the door and Emma peeked into the room.

''You two are still awake?'' she said, with Springtrap giving her a questioning look. She narrowed her eyes. ''You know what I meant, Afton.''

''Mum, could we borrow the car for tomorrow?'' Sam asked.

''As long as you manage to wake up early to drive me to work,'' Emma replied. ''Where are you even going to?''

Sam and Springtrap briefly exchanged glances, only to see Emma giving them a Don't you dare to lie to me look.

''We planned to visit an abandoned building called Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental,'' Sam said. Emma didn't seem to recognize the name.

''So, what is that place? Are you completely sure that it is abandoned?'' Emma asked.

''It is,'' Springtrap replied, with Emma giving him a confused look. ''At least it was the last time I was there, more than a year ago.''

''Should I even ask why you were there?'' Emma said, crossing her arms.

''I used to own it, and rest assured, it is completely empty,'' Springtrap replied. ''There are no people and no animatronics, just robotic parts and empty rooms.''

''I see,'' Emma muttered, looking a little skeptical. ''Anyways, don't stay up too late, else someone is going to sleep outside. I'm not that picky about who this person will be.''

She added the last part when she noticed Sam grinning, looking satisfied when Sam's eyes widened and her smile instantly vanished. Emma left, with Sam and Springtrap exchanging glances.

''To be honest, I'm not sure whether she was messing with us again or was completely serious about this,'' Sam said.

''I don't think we should take any chances,'' Springtrap replied. ''In any case, we have a plan for tomorrow and we can discuss the details in the morning.''

He was about to get up and leave, only for Sam to grab his hand, forcing him to stay. He was a little confused when he saw the annoyed look on her expression.

''Remember how I told you that I'm getting better at picking up on whenever you feel upset about something? I'm quite sure that there's something you didn't want to tell me earlier,'' Sam said as Springtrap sat back, looking a little flustered and anxious.

''I don't think I need to explain whom that little girl reminded me of,'' Springtrap said.

''No, but the children are gone, aren't they?'' Sam said. ''That chapter of your life is supposed to be over, isn't it? Even though it does influence your current situation.''

''True, but the more I think about it, the more I feel that not all of them are gone,'' Springtrap replied.

''You mean that entity?'' Sam asked, with Springtrap nodding.

''If anything, I'm certain that this entity is completely different from the voice that told me that I'd be back, for whatever reason they had,'' he explained.

''Considering how things are, you've been brought back to be tortured. Apparently, the Hell you faced wasn't enough,'' Sam said, noticing that Springtrap looked quite crestfallen. ''There is something else, isn't it?''

''How would you feel if I just left?'' he asked. He noticed the reluctant look on her expression, as she understood what he meant. It was more than obvious that she refused to let him leave, which he actually felt relieved about.

''Well, if you wanted to leave, it is your decision…'' Sam muttered.

''Sam, be honest with your feelings,'' Springtrap said calmly, in the same tone Sam used to talk to him in such situations.

''No, I don't want to you to leave,'' Sam said, now in a more confident tone, only to feel Springtrap patting her on the head.

''I know. I am not going to leave you,'' Springtrap told her. ''At least not unless forced, and even then, I doubt I would just abandon you. Besides, I'm quite satisfied with being back, so that's an additional reason for staying here.''

Sam smiled, with Springtrap feeling a warm sensation in his chest.

Even if I have to leave, it'll be on my own terms.

xXx

''It should be here somewhere,'' Springtrap said as he looked through the window of the car. The two were searching for Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental location. Springtrap felt a little tense about visiting it again, as he wondered whether everything remained the same, or whether the location was still there.

''Is this it?'' Sam asked, parking in next to the building next to an empty lot. There was an old rusty sign on it, saying CIRCUS BABY'S ENTERTAINMENT AND RENTAL, with the image of Circus Baby holding a microphone on the top of the sign. However, the colors were faded and chipped. The lot also had a broken fence around it, but it didn't seem like it was necessary for keeping intruders out. The whole place was decrepit and gave off a creepy vibe. The two exited the car, walking over to the building, with Springtrap being stunned.

''I can't believe this place is still here,'' he said. ''I thought that Henry had torn it down and burned the remains.''

''Well, I have no complaints about this place still being here,'' Sam said, looking quite excited. ''Let's go inside.''

Springtrap nodded, although he still stood on the spot, staring at the building. He did feel a little reluctant about entering it, as he didn't know what he might find there. Everything could've been the same as he left it, but it was also possible that there was nothing there. He sighed.

It's time to see what is lurking underground.

xXx

''Is there a bunny plushie?''

''No…''

''But, I want one!''

Kathy looked at her younger brother, who was just as annoyed as she was that the only plushies were those of Ricky and the Misfits. The two hoped that they could find a plushie that looked similar to that green-golden bunny with the purple bowtie.

Speaking of the bunny, nobody had seen it. Sure, the two hadn't visited Ricky's in a while, but they were sure that the bunny would still be here. They asked a few older kids and even an employee about the strange bunny animatronic, but none of them had even noticed that he was there. The two felt disappointed, as they wanted to play with him.

They knew that the bunny was there, but everyone else acted like he didn't exist. What was going on?

''Maybe he doesn't work today,'' Kathy suggested. She then pouted. ''Or maybe he got fired?''

Kyle tilted his head. He didn't fully understand what ''being fired'' meant, although he knew that it was something about adults losing their job, as he overheard his aunt talking nastily about the people that worked in the grocery store. All he could imagine was the bunny animatronic being fired out of a cannon by Ricky, and got scared.

''I hope he wasn't,'' he said. ''That would hurt.''

The two then got approached by Virgil The Owl, who looked at them expectantly.

''Do you want a prize?'' Virgil asked them.

''We want a bunny plushie!'' Kyle exclaimed, holding his share of prize tickets.

''I am sorry, but there are no bunnies here,'' Virgil replied. ''But, did you know that rabbits are fragile animals and are most active in the morning and evening. They prefer to sleep during the day and through the night. Rabbits are very tame and not demanding. They can be trained to learn commands and play games. Rabbits make very little noise so bothering your neighbors will not be a concern. Rabbits love to be handled, like attention, and tend to be active when most people are home. Because of all these attributes they can make an excellent pet.''

''Really?'' Kyle seemed to be awed, turning to his sister. ''I want a pet bunny!''

''Me too,'' Kathy was just as excited about the idea as her brother was, but then quickly remembered why they were here, then turned to the animatronic. ''Did you see a bunny robot?''

''No, there is no rabbit animatronic here. We have Ricky Wolfrun-'' Before Virgil could continue listing the names of the animatronics, he got interrupted by Kathy.

''But, there was a bunny named Spring here!'' she insisted.

''No, there is no rabbit animatronic here. We have Ricky Wolf-''

Kathy groaned, with her brother copying her. Both of them were frustrated that nobody knew about Spring, not even the animatronics themselves.

''Hello, there!'' The twins turned around, only to see Ricky waving at them. ''Do you need any help?''

As much as the twins were aware of, there were two Rickys. One would sing on the stage and the other would walk around and interact with people. However, they would never be seen together. Of course, when they played with another kid their age and told him about it, he said that they were wrong and that they were stupid for believing that. The twins quickly left him, not taking kindly to the fact that they were insulted by someone who couldn't tell the difference between a robot and a person in a costume.

''Have you seen a bunny?'' Kyle asked hopefully. ''His name is Spring!''

''I'm sorry, but I don't know any bunny named Spring,'' Ricky replied. Kyle looked disappointed. ''However, you can play with me and my friends. Just come along.''

He reached out for Kyle, but Kathy grabbed his arm first.

''No, thanks,'' Kathy suddenly said, feeling uncomfortable in Ricky's presence. Even though he was friendly to them, she had a bad feeling about this and wanted to leave. ''Bye.''

Connor observed silently as the two left, feeling angry. He had realized that he basically got his confirmation that there was indeed a bunny animatronic roaming through this town. However, every time he appeared or was mentioned, he would take people he was interested in away from him.

Well, it's time to hunt this bunny down.

xXx

As Sam and Springtrap entered the building, they noticed a thick layer of dust on the floor and every surface. There were cobwebs, as well as a musty scent in the air. It was dark inside, with shutters covering the windows, although Sam brought along her flashlight, shining it on the surfaces. The hallway they entered led to another room covered in posters of Circus Baby, Funtime Foxy, Funtime Freddy and Bon-Bon, and Ballora. There was also a reception counter.

''We're not even at where the animatronics were and I'm already excited,'' Sam said, contemplating whether she could take the posters with her.

''We might have a little problem, though,'' Springtrap said, pointing at the elevator a bit away from the counter. ''There are other entrances, but the primary one, which is reserved for the technicians, is this elevator and I'm not sure whether this place is still powered-up since nobody is using it. Also, just to make it clear, the last time I came here I used a different entrance.''

''Well, we could try it out,'' Sam said, shrugging. Springtrap was worried about the possibility of them getting trapped inside a faulty elevator, but decided to give it a try. Surprisingly, when he pressed the button for the elevator, it actually worked. He and Sam exchanged glances, then nodded, entering the elevator. Sam felt her heart racing when the door behind her closed. It took a few seconds, but the elevator then went down.

As they waited, Springtrap figured that there was a possibility that Fazbear Entertainment was the one who kept Circus Baby's Rental and Entertainment from being torn down. After all, they had already decided to open another location.

Meanwhile, Sam examined the entirety of the elevator, noticing how it looked exactly like it did in the game. The posters were missing, but the panel on which HandUnit asks you to type was still there. Sam traced with her fingers over the torn sticker that said ''MIKE''. She was smiling widely, feeling as if she was dreaming. However, this was much better than a dream.

''Deep below ground, where memories sleep, anger is restless and secrets don't keep.''

''What do you mean?'' Springtrap asked her.

''That was the description for Five Nights at Freddy's: Sister Location,'' Sam explained. ''Speaking of which, something's missing. HandUnit is not active.''

''I guess that someone turned HandUnit off,'' Springtrap said.

''I kind of hoped that we would hear him,'' Sam said. ''He might've offered me some Exotic Butters.''

Springtrap snorted, figuring that he should ask her a little more about those Five Nights at Freddy's games. The elevator finally opened, with both of them exiting it, entering a smaller room with a vent they would have to crawl through. Sam glanced at Springtrap.

''I still don't get why people have to use the vents to get into another room,'' she said, noticing Springtrap grinning, his arms crossed on his back and his eyes glowing in a soft purple.

''It's just a precaution, to make sure that people stay where they're supposed to be. Do you really think that, unless directed, someone would use a vent to get into the next room?'' Springtrap asked.

''Well, you have a point,'' Sam replied.

''If you don't want to use the vents, I'll show you the way around,'' Springtrap added.

''Thanks, but I actually wanted to see what Mike had to go through,'' Sam said, pointing at the vent. Springtrap's ears drooped, with him looking a little anxious. He knew that Michael had been at this place, as he personally had sent him here, but the idea of her retracing his steps didn't occur to him. However, if she did attempt to retrace Michael's steps… Springtrap's eyes widened as he realized what kind of situation he put her in.

''Say, Sam, you'll be fine on your own for a few minutes?'' he asked.

''I guess…'' Sam gave him a confused look. ''Why are you asking?''

''There's something I need to do, but I'll be back soon,'' Springtrap replied.

''What is it?'' Sam asked.

''I'll explain you later. It's just something I forgot about,'' Springtrap told her. Sam tilted her head, a little skeptical, but then shrugged and entered the vent. Springtrap sighed as he heard her leaving, rubbing his temple. ''Why didn't I remember this sooner?''

He then turned back to he elevator, walking around it and opening the door that was concealed in the small area behind the elevator. As he had already noted, there were certain aspects of this place only he was supposed to know about.

xXx

Sam felt a little overwhelmed as she stood in the primary control module room. In front of her was the vent that led to the control room for the Circus Gallery. On the sides were the vents that led to the Ballora Gallery and Funtime Auditorium. She also noticed the keypads used for the controlled shocks, approaching the one on her left carefully, her fingers itching to press the buttons. She felt giddy, still a bit in disbelief that she was actually here, at the Sister Location. As she contemplated whether she should actually try the keypads out, she was startled when the light suddenly started flickering and turned on. Even the screens above her were turned on, albeit showing only static.

She figured that Springtrap was probably the one who turned the lights on and looked through the windows. Both the Ballora Gallery and Funtime Auditorium were empty, albeit there were scraps of metal and plastic lying on the floor. Running from one side to the other, she simply couldn't decide which one to check first.

In the end, she decided to visit first the Circus Gallery, wanting to see Circus Baby's stage first. After climbing out of the vent, she found herself in the control room for the Circus Gallery, leaning against the machinery to see the stage. It was dimly lit, with broken stage lights, but much larger than Ballora and Funtime Foxy's stage. She took a step back and crouched, opening the door to the small space below the desk, which once served as a hiding spot for Michael when the Bidybabs went after him.

She shuddered as she closed it, reminding herself that this wasn't a game or a dream. It was real and people had died here. Not only that, but several incredibly dangerous animatronics had managed to escape by using a human as a suit. Calling it an unnerving experience would be an understatement.

After returning back to the main control room, Sam turned towards the Ballora Gallery, roaming freely through the area, as there was no Ballora or Minireenas to stop her. The room didn't have anything of interest, aside from several decorations and posters showing Ballora dancing. Sam turned her attention to the stage, staring at it for a moment, then shivered, going towards the breaker room.

Now, the breaker room was just as she imagined it to be. She saw the panel for the power, the room being covered in wires and pipes, some tools on a desk at the far end of the room, as well as some machinery.

This was where Funtime Freddy and Bon-Bon resided, at least for a while.

She stepped towards the stage where Funtime Freddy once stood, staring at it briefly, before turning back to the Ballora Gallery, with the intent to visit the Funtime Auditorium next. Once there, she glanced at the stage where Funtime Foxy was, then looked at the floor. While dusty, it was clean.

I guess we'll never know what happened to those two technicians after they were killed.

She then walked over to the parts and service room, which, similarly to the breaker room, was covered in wires, but also had closets and a desk, as well as tools and parts that would be used for fixing the animatronics. As she looked down, she noticed a charred piece of plastic. Picking it up and turning it around, she realized that, while it was quite damaged, it was Ennard's mask.

She gasped, covering her mouth in disbelief as she processed the fact that she was holding a piece of a rather infamous animatronic. She assumed that Ennard, after parting ways with Circus Baby, came here to repair himself, only for that to go wrong. Instead, he became Molten Freddy, a bunch of wires with Funtime Freddy's mask and AI, as Ballora and Funtime Foxy's AI probably ceased to exist at that point.

As she exited the parts and service room, she turned her attention to two other rooms, one being the private room and the other being the scooping room. Biting her lip, she went to the private room, wanting to check it out. As she already expected it, it looked almost exactly as she imagined it to be. The monitors had been turned off, so she had no view of the other rooms. Just as she reached for the monitors, she felt a hand on her shoulder and quickly turned around.

''Are you okay? I'm sorry I scared you,'' Springtrap said as he saw her stunned expression.

''Yeah, I'm fine,'' Sam replied. ''I am actually quite enjoying myself, just like at Fazbear's Fright.''

''I see you have already found something,'' Springtrap said, looking at Ennard's mask. Sam nodded.

''Honestly, I don't think I have even explored half of the place properly,'' she replied. ''Anyways, what were you doing?''

''I was simply making sure you won't get yourself hurt,'' Springtrap replied, with Sam giving him a confused look.

''Thanks,'' she muttered, wondering what exactly he meant, only to figure it out a moment later. ''The scooper, right?''

Springtrap didn't say anything, avoiding any eye-contact with her. He was still troubled over what happened, as well as worried about Sam's reaction to everything. Sure, she had already known about the whole deal with the scooper and remnant, but there was still a difference between knowing something and experiencing it first-hand. Not to mention, considering how curious Sam was, he had every right to worry about her getting hurt.

''In any case, I have visited pretty much every room here, except for the one with the scooper,'' she told Springtrap as she exited the room.

''I think you might want to rethink that sentence,'' Springtrap replied, then glanced back at the monitors, a little reluctant. Although, I guess she already knows, right?

He sighed, feeling torn between letting her continue to explore and telling her that they should leave. After all, this was his idea, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt that he made the wrong decision. There was a reason why I left everything behind.

He sighed, remembering the time he encountered Circus Baby decades after he had left her and the other animatronics. At the time, she had managed to somehow repair herself, becoming Scrap Baby. She was excited to see him, showing no trace of malice or bitterness towards him. She didn't care anymore about being left behind, seemingly forgotten, and wanted to do anything to make him proud. She wanted to be part of this horror show and he allowed it.

She even told him about what had happened to Michael, which honestly shocked him as, while he did sent him to this location, he didn't expect such outcome. However, the possibility of Michael still being alive despite being carved out like a pumpkin for Halloween sparked his interest, causing him to wonder whether he would encounter his son again. Still, that didn't mean that he wanted a family reunion. At that point, he had lost every sense of sanity, only wanting to continue to murder people.

Hell, even Circus Baby was a victim of his insane ideas. He no longer cared whether he was talking to the Circus Baby AI or Elizabeth when he encountered her, simply accepting idea that this is who she was. While he may have not wanted to harm her before, he had accepted her idea of her becoming his successor, while at the same time making it clear that he would also act on his own, without her help.

Springtrap sighed, closing his eyes with a look of anguish on his expression. Now that he thought about everything, he felt sick. He was furious at himself for even taking such dark path, even though he knew that he couldn't change anything about his past. He refused to understand the pain and agony he brought upon everyone, believing that there would be some kind of benefit from his actions. Sure, had had discovered what could be called essentially immortality, but at what price?

Even if put myself into a similar situation, I still would have no idea what they have been through.

Time and time again, he had to wonder why he was still here, why he was allowed to come back. Was he supposed to repeat the horror show? Sure, he tried that, but Sam convinced him that there might have been another reason for his return. Or, maybe there wasn't any other reason for his return and this was just another form of torture? If it was, then they did a good job, as he now felt even worse than he did in Hell.

Still, there was a bit of hope left for him, as he had found someone who was willing to listen to him and help him out. It wasn't a bad deal, despite the constant anxiety and fear about her getting hurt somehow. After all, he had managed to hurt and scar every person he actually felt some connection with, and she might suffer the same fate.

I should've stayed away from her.

He shook his head, his eyes flaring purple. Only because he knew that he shouldn't be around her didn't mean he was supposed to leave her. He had shown that he could change, that he could become a better person. Hell, he even showed regret for his past actions! He wanted to keep Sam safe and happy, and that required his presence, no matter how absurd that idea was.

If this is not why I'm here, what else am I supposed to do?!

In the end, the decision lied within him. Even if he had made a different choice, he would still suffer the consequences, which could've been even worse than what he was experiencing now. Springtrap sighed, exiting the private room and closing the door, then leaned against it, staring across the room.

What should I do?

Suddenly, there was a scream, with something falling on the ground, the sounds echoing through the empty room.

''Sam!''

Springtrap ran over to the scooping room, finding Sam sitting on the ground, clutching her stomach. He quickly crouched next to her, noticing the blood on her arm.

''Sam, what happened?!''

Sam looked at the dismantled scooper, with Springtrap noticing that the remnant injector had sprung open. While had had dismantled it, he forgot that there was a possibility that traces of remnant were still inside the injector and that it might activate if not handled carefully. He assumed that she picked up some of the pieces of the scooper to examine them and got stabbed by the injector after accidentally activating it.

''Sam, let me see the wound,'' he said anxiously, slowly feeling the dread rising in the back of his mind. Sam extended her arm, her eyes tearing. Feeling sorry for her, Springtrap examined her arm, seeing the tears on the bandages and blood dripping out of the tears. He took a look at her, realizing that it was just her arm that got stabbed by the injector. Still, that didn't make him feel less horrified. He looked at her, his eyes flaring purple. ''We're going home this instant.''

Sam was surprised by his stern and serious tone. It was less of a suggestion and more of an order, with her realizing that the situation was grave. She let him help her get up, feeling her arm throbbing and a little dizzy.

''Sam, can you stand on your own?'' Springtrap asked her, with Sam waiting for the dizziness to fade.

''Yeah, I think so,'' she said, even though Springtrap still held her non-injured arm. ''There's a first aid kit in the car.''

''I don't think that it will help much,'' Springtrap said as he looked at her injured arm. The bleeding had stopped, but there were still red stains on the bandages. However, he wasn't worried about her injury, but more about what the injector did to her.

As they walked past the remains of Ballora, Funtime Foxy and Funtime Freddy and entered the Funtime Auditorium, Springtrap directed her towards a concealed door Sam hadn't noticed earlier. It led to a corridor that had a fork. Sam assumed that one path led to the observatory she saw through the panel at the scooping room. Springtrap then gestured to take the other path, which led back to the elevator room. As the elevator went up, the dizziness Sam felt had faded away and she was capable of standing on her own. However, her arm still hurt.

''How do you feel?'' Springtrap asked her worriedly. Sam noticed that there was a hint of panic in his tone.

''My arm hurts,'' she said, holding her injured arm with her non-injured one. ''I also feel tired.''

Springtrap looked dismayed, fearing the worst. He didn't want to risk anything, but he also had no idea what might happen to Sam. After all, he never found out what might happen when someone who was still alive gets injected with remnant.

xXx

The drive back home was quiet. After having her arm once again bandaged, Sam insisted on driving them back home, despite feeling fatigue. Springtrap let her do that, as he didn't want to upset her further. The situation was already bad enough, even more when Sam expressed the desire to go to sleep once they had arrived.

''Sam, I don't think that this is a good idea,'' Springtrap told her. ''You need to stay awake.''

He was slowly freaking out. As much as he knew, remnant was supposed to bind the soul of a dead or dying person to a body, be it artificial or not. However, he feared that, if injected into someone who was still alive, it could outright kill the person. While Sam wasn't stabbed in any of her vital organs, like the heart, it seemed to be affecting her nonetheless.

''I'm sorry about what happened. This is all my fault,'' he told her.

''No, it's mine,'' Sam replied, her cheeks red. ''I shouldn't have touched that stuff. I should've known better-''

Suddenly, her eyes rolled back and collapsed. Springtrap managed to hold her, preventing her from falling down on the floor.

''Sam, wake up! Sam!''

Horrified, he realized that she couldn't hear him anymore.

Links:

#Previous Chapter

#Current Chapter

#Next Chapter

#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)

#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story #Five Nights at Freddy's: Salvaged #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #springtrap #william afton #fnaf sister location #five nights at freddy's sister location

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datamodel-of-disaster · 6 months

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Ask game time! Thanks for the tag, @filmamir!

1. Are you named after anyone?

I keep saying if I do anything noteworthy enough in my life to deserve a wikipedia page, someone has to add me to List of things named after Bernhard Riemann - Wikipedia, so... yes.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday night, and also, longer ago than I remember. Are the tears mine if the sadness isn't? It be like that sometimes.

3. Do you have kids?

No, and thank the powers that be (mostly contraception) for that!

4. What sports do you play/have played?

No real sports, unless highschool PE counts. I was a fervent and pretty skilled skier for a while but my partner is afraid of skiing and its too expensive to go on my own, so it's been years since I did it.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Not as much as you'd think. I'm a painfully sincere person much of the time.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

I hate to be *that* person, but... their vibe. Fake car salesperson smiles, awkward "haha we will ignore that!" silences, confrontational high-schooler convo style... Some people just have fucky energy, idk what else to say. That said, my actual opinion of people takes a while to form -it's like a committee vote more or less.

7. What's your eye colour?

Blue-green

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings all the way. I can watch unhappy endings if the movie is aesthetic(TM) or it's more about the art or history of the film than the narrative, but if I'm immersing myself in a story-story, the person(s) the narrative makes me root for better fucking make it to a happy end.

I'm very selective about scary movies: they need to be aesthetic, and satisfying.

9. Any talents?

... not... really? I kinda struggle with linking my qualities to "talents". I don't have many (if any) things I'm just "naturally good" at; even skill sets I'm now proud of were not something I ever had a natural aptitude for, and if I developed a skill it was 99% of the time out of necessity rather than enjoyment.

I guess I have... shockingly broad bandwidth for other people's issues. Like... interpersonal exhaustion? I don't know her, man. Mostly due to a combination of voyeuristic enjoyment of knowing and understanding things about others, my sense of empathy being almost entirely generated through fine-grained psych analysis rather than instinct, and the *very* odd given that my own personality temporarily stabilizes when exposed to interpersonal input. I'm not sure that's a talent so much as a condition, though xD

10. Where were you born?

Belgium

11. What are your hobbies?

At the moment, mostly writing Tron fanfiction. I also draw (sometimes), paint and kitbash Warhammer 40k minis (been a while), do metalwork (I need a new welding helm T_T), do gothic and fetish modelling, thrift and collect things for my house, etcetera. I cycle through hobbies mostly. Writing is my most stable one -I dare say I keeps me sane.

12. Do you have any pets?

I have a cat! Her name is Meoi (Quenya for "Cat", in honour of Huan and terrible Feanorian naming traditions -retired Silmarillion fan here)

13. How tall are you?

1m70 but most people assume I'm a good bit taller because I'm broad-shouldered and always in 17cm platform stilettos.

14. Favourite subject in school?

Oof. Tough one. I've been out of school for a good long while. The person I was in high-school would have picked physics, followed closely by math. Leaving the following period in the middle (lalala), at uni *in the major I actually graduated from*, my favourites were Architectural Theory, Medieval Image Culture, and Visual Analysis.

15. Dream job?

Oof again. Opinions divided on this one.

I like to say my dream job needs to meet the following criteria:

- I am competent at the job and reasonably regularly get this confirmed by others

- Every day at work I know largely what is expected of me, and what is expected fully falls within my capacity to deliver.

- I have tangible, well-described tasks and goals and never have to "be proactive about finding more work" or "try to look more productive".

- I have good coworkers I get along with, at least professionally.

- No extraneous admin tasks or timesheet micromanagement.

- GOOD PAY

If I'm really ambitious, I would add to that:

- I'm an expert (or just really, really good) at it.

But let's be honest, actual dream jobs Riemann over here has dreamed of having or pursuing? Interior designer/stylist, professional fetish performer/pro-domme, and Enterprise IT Architect.

Yeah.

You see why I stick to bullet point lists.

Tagging... @bowiesinspace @inquisitor-gayfax @clevermird @et-novum and everyone else who feels like it!

#meet the disaster #tag game

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acourtofthought · 10 months

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for the love of god its like every once in a while when e/riels can't find anything to prove that gwynriel won't happen they bring gwyn's SA like they're actually proving a good point.... SHUT THE F**K UP PLS

nothing makes me more mad than them talking about gwyn's SA like they know how she feels bc if they knew they wouldn't even dare to think about those disgusting things!!!

pls share these comments and ppl experiences so these supposed concern about gwyn's health can see how people of SA feels about sex and gwyn's character: https://www.instagram.com/p/CSh2iFnIbzO/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

they're so disgusting and this is only a fictional character but they forgot sarah also wrote these characters base on the real event. someone like gwyn exist in real life and something similar happened to them!!

and it's not just gwyn also rhysand and lucien!!! bc these two are 1. men 2. they threaten other ships (e/riel and fey/in). i haven't seen anyone saying nesta is lying about her SA bc she's not threatening any other ship or i don't see anyone fault her for drowning herself in sex and alcohol after her SA...

they also ignore what happened to feyre and what tamlin did to her bc they don't even see that as an assault and saying "feyre overreacted" and "tamlin pANiCkEd he didn't mean it" and let me tell you no feyre didn't overreacted and tamlin very much meant it, i've been in feyre's place...

honestly this fandom is degrading everyday and i'm so sorry for them.

TW: Sexual Assault I adore the link you shared, thank you so much. It was very empowering to read someone's experience and what they felt comfortable with. Not all SA survivors are going to be the same. Some may need a year before they're ready, some may need longer, some may need less than that and the link you shared is an example of what worked for them and something I hope we're all really happy to see. So any post where someone claims Gwyn MUST follow a specific timeframe because her SA assault happened over 2 1/2 years ago (by the end of SF), that because she did XYZ since then, it means she won't be ready for a physical relationship for a specific amount of time after, is a post that should not exist. I've noticed in this day and age, people like to toss around that all opinions are valid but that's a misnomer. Not all opinions are equal and valid and this one such example. If you claim you have a degree that makes you qualified to diagnose that Gwyn is not ready, you'd be wrong. A real therapist would understand that unless they had the chance to directly ask Gwyn questions related to her state of mind when it comes to relationships and her assault then no one should ever bring their degree into things. They should not be claiming they are an expert on her character based off the limited information we read about while she had a conversation with her friends under stressful circumstances. And no therapist would EVER place a time frame on when their client is ready to move forward, that is for the client to decide and the therapist to simply guide them to self awareness as to what's right for them. The only person who will be telling us if Gwyn is ready is SJM and if Gwyn is Azriel's love interest then guess what? There is a 99.9% chance that there will be intimacy as these are romance books and she has written sex into every single one of hers. Just as Rhys was ready, just as Lucien will be ready if he gets a book. And if Gwynriel is endgame, of which there are many possible hints for regardless of what some in the fandom claim, the author has said that Az is kinky which means anyone drawing fanart of Gwynriel bondage is completely justified in how they got from point A to point B. Maybe they'll have missed the mark and SJMs version of kink will deviate from that however it does not make those who commission or draw the art wrong for their current interpretation. It does not do a disservice to the character of Gwyn. Claiming it's a disservice is basically someone saying to a survivor "you were assaulted but I don't feel you should be alright with a consensual situation between two fictional people, a real possibility based on the authors writing style and previous works because I feel it's triggering for you and I think it's best if I decide when you're ready for that. You wouldn't be ready in real life therefore she's not ready either". This world seems to be full of people telling other people how they're allowed to feel about their own life experiences and it makes no sense to me. They think they're keeping it to the topic of the books and Gwyn's SA but it affects real survivors because when they claim that since Gwyn suffered SA 2.5 years ago and has trauma related agoraphobia she could not possibly be ready to overcome her trauma within a reasonable timeframe before the next book, they're saying that's the rulebook for all survivors. They're saying that there could never be a situation where someone could finally battle their demons and move forward. And no one, not Peggy from Utah or a therapist with multiple degrees should ever be telling a survivor what they can or cannot accomplish, real or fictional. Until we are in Gwyn's head and have her thoughts on what SHE thinks of Az and sex, no one should be boxing her into anything. At this point, anything is possible until we're told otherwise by the author herself.

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missxfaithc · 1 year

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So I decided to post chapter 2 of Wild Roses up on my account as well. But I’m going to move the rest of fanfic to AO3 soon. I will make an update post when I do so that y’all can find it :)

Chapter 2:

“How about we have this conversation on the sofa?” Damien (was it really Damien?) offers as he calmly approaches you. “I’m sure you’re looking for some explanations, Y/N, and I’d be more than willing to oblige.”

The man standing before you does look like Damien. Well, sort of.

There’s something just slightly off about him. You can’t immediately tell what it is, but it unnerves you on some primal level.

“Um… all right,” you hesitantly agree.

Damien leads you to the couch in the living room area and gestures for you to sit down. Meanwhile, he snaps his fingers and the room instantly lights up. With the better lighting, you can make out the features of his face more clearly.

He’s as handsome as ever, and somehow it doesn’t look like he’s aged a day since the last time you saw him. He’s wearing a suit, for some reason, and his hair is a bit longer than it used to be—and it’s not gelled back. It also appears that he may be wearing a bit of… eyeliner?

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Damien asks you as you sit down. “Or perhaps a cup of coffee?”

You shake your head. “No thanks, I’m good.”

He nods and takes a seat next to you on the piece of furniture, leaving a respectable distance between the two of you.

“As I said, I’m happy to answer any questions you have. But first, I’d like to ask you something, Y/N,” Damien begins.

“Okay,” you say. “What is it?”

“What’s the last thing you remember? Before waking up here, I mean.”

That’s… a good question, actually.

You remember the mirror. God, do you remember the mirror. You probably couldn’t forget it, even if you tried.

Being trapped for so long in that… pocket dimension, or whatever it was. Being forced to go on stupid adventures with Mark. Having your voice stolen from you for so long… Having your choices taken away…

Of course, you didn’t understand at the time what was happening. It was only after the fact, once you returned to your own little private corner of the mirror dimension, that you could recall everything.

Whenever a new adventure began, it was like your memory was just… wiped clean, somehow. Each new route, each new ending… you would get reset. Like… like a video game character or something.

But, wait… If this isn’t some new adventure for Mark to galavant around in, then where are you?

And… the person sitting beside you can’t possibly be Damien. Right?

Damien’s dead. And Mark stole his body.

And… something stole your body, all those years ago.

And yet now, somehow, you’re in a body again. And Damien (not Damien?) is sitting next to you like everything’s perfectly normal and fine.

You recall a few brief encounters with not-Damien during your adventures with Mark. He looked different than he does now, admittedly, but there are enough similarities to make you think he’s the same person (entity?).

His eyes are cold, you notice. Damien’s gaze was warm, inviting. But this… thing’s piercing stare makes you feel exposed and vulnerable. And yet, his words are soft, kind. Gentle, even.

And even now, as you’re surely having some kind of mental breakdown, he’s staring at you patiently with a small, encouraging smile.

You don’t trust him one bit.

“I remember the mirror,” you eventually manage. “How long was I trapped in there for?”

This particular question appears to bother the man quite a bit. He shifts around unnecessarily and adjusts his posture before responding.

“70 years, roughly,” he answers.

70 years? Almost a century? You were trapped in the mirror for that long?!

“I know, I know. It’s a lot to take in,” the man goes on, noticing your increasingly panicked expression. “But I promise that I’ll explain everything.”

“Are you… still you?” you dare to ask, because you have to know.

The man furrows his eyebrows for a moment, as if confused by the question. “I’m not sure what you mean, Y/N. I am… myself, yes.”

“No, no. I mean… are you still… y’know? Damien?” you ask, hoping against all hope that he’ll say yes.

“Oh. That. Yes, well… in a way, I suppose I am. He’s just… not all I am, anymore,” the man responds, looking slightly nervous.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ah, well…” the man trails off momentarily, as if choosing his next words carefully. “So much went wrong that night, as you know. I was able to… come back, but not entirely as myself. I had to make some… compromises—some sacrifices along the way.”

“And that included trapping me in a mirror and stealing my body?” you can’t help but ask.

“I do sincerely regret that,” Damien (not-Damien?) says, glancing away from you for a moment. “That’s actually why I was hoping I’d get to talk with you first, so that I could explain myself. I don’t… I don’t want you to hate me, Y/N. Perhaps that’s selfish, but…” he trailed off for a moment. “I only wish to make amends. I promise that I mean you no ill will, my dear.”

You want to protest. Really, you do. But Damien (or is he something else entirely now?) is sitting next to you and your thoughts keep circling back to the past—back to the time when you were pals at university and then work colleagues. Back when you had a not-so-mild crush on him but you were too afraid to ever say anything.

“Where’s Mark?” you ask. “If you’re here, he must be as well. So… where is he?”

Mark is the last person you want to see. Ever. Not after everything he put you through.

“Mark as you know him has been… dealt with,” Damien says vaguely.

“What do you mean, ‘as I know him’?”

“Well… you remember the adventures you went on with Mark, right?” Damien asks.

You nod slowly. “Yeah. So?”

“The multiverse thing is real, Y/N. The reality we’re in right now is just one of millions. So… the Mark you know will no longer be a problem for any of us. However… another version of Mark ended up here recently and he can’t return to his own reality,” Damien explains.

You take a minute to process this new information.

“What makes this version of Mark different from the one we knew?” you eventually ask.

“Well, he’s from a different century, for starters. Though, this reality is also in a different century from the last time you saw it, so… Anyways, he’s sort of like the Mark we knew, in that he’s also kind of an actor. It’s just, instead of working in Hollywood, doing movies and TV shows, his career was based online. But he still had a substantial audience and in his own reality he was quite wealthy and overall very successful.”

“Is he… you know… an asshole?” you ask.

“On the contrary, actually,” Damien answers, sounding a little miffed for some reason. “He is… insufferably nice. And not in one of those fake ways, either. He’s the real deal.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “You don’t sound so happy about that.”

Damien shrugs, “It’s difficult for me to like any version of Mark—even the good versions. He’s tolerable, I suppose, but I do not care to maintain any semblance of friendship with him.”

“And yet you’re working together for some reason?” you guess aloud.

“To stop Mark—the other Mark. And then, to free you from the mirror. But now that that’s all been taken care of, he’s finally out of my hair. I just have to inform him that you’ve woken up, then he can be on his merry way and I never have to see him again.”

You don’t know how to feel. There’s another Mark, from a different universe? Well, you suppose you aren’t exactly surprised—given that you were galavanting around a pocket-dimension with your version of Mark for multiple decades.

“All right,” you slowly say. “What about you? You said you weren’t quite Damien anymore, so… who are you?”

The man sitting next to you let out a tired-sounding sigh. “Now that’s a long story. To put it simply, however, the man you knew as Damien doesn’t exist anymore. I carry parts of him within myself, but as a whole I am… something different. My… acquaintances call me Dark, now.”

“Dark,” you repeat, the name entirely unfamiliar on your tongue. “You look… this isn’t the first time we’ve met, is it? While you’ve been… like this.”

Dark nods somberly, a flop of midnight-colored hair falling into one eye. “Indeed we have. But this is the first time I’ve ever been able to… properly communicate with you.”

“He took my voice,” you realize aloud. “Mark, he—he stole my voice. He took my choices away. At the time I thought I was making decisions for myself, but…” you shake your head. “Now I know that’s not true.”

“Mark did a lot of awful things—to all of us,” Dark agrees. “But as I said, he’s gone now. You need not fear him, anymore.”

Perhaps. But does that mean you can trust Dark? The man who looks like Damien but not quite. The man who trapped you in a mirror for over 70 years. The man who’s presumably still wearing your body like one of his tailored suits.

“How am I even here?” you wonder aloud. “If you’re still… in my body, and my soul or spirit or whatever was trapped in the mirror for all those decades… whose body am I in now?”

“You are in your own body, Y/N,” Dark says. “I took my body back from Mark and returned yours to you. That’s why he had to be dealt with first.”

You nod. Then, “So… where exactly is Mark now?”

“In a void, somewhere. Nowhere you need to concern yourself with,” Dark replies, giving a small smile. “Now, have I answered all your questions, my dear? Is there anything else you wish to know?”

You do have one other question…

“You said you still carry parts of Damien with you. Does that mean that… do you remember our days at university?” you dare to ask.

Dark’s smile turns a bit sad. “I do have access to those memories, yes. You were a dear friend of Damien’s.”

Dear friend. Nothing more. Right.

“And you… I mean… as Dark… have we ever…” you don’t know how to ask what you want to ask. “The memories I have of my adventures with Mark are all jumbled. I don’t… Were we ever—did we ever…” you just can’t bring yourself to ask.

Somehow, it’s too embarrassing. This man—this… entity sitting next to you that looks entirely too much like Damien and yet nothing like him at all. It’s too much. There’s too many memories attached to that face. To a man who apparently doesn’t exist anymore.

“There was never anything between us,” Dark answers, seeming to read between the lines. “Mark had you convinced that I was the enemy. You were… you were terrified of me, I think. I didn’t… you couldn’t even consider me a friend, let alone anything more.”

Somehow, that’s relieving for you to hear. One less intensely complicated relationship to ponder.

“Okay,” you say. “That’s… that’s good to know.”

Dark’s expression shifts, just slightly. There’s something softer in it now, something almost tender.

“I know this must all be extremely overwhelming for you to learn, Y/N,” he says in his deep voice. “But know that I’m here for you. Anything you need, just ask. I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

“I… that’s very kind of you,” you reply, managing a small smile of your own.

“It’s the least I can do,” Dark says, deep brown eyes meeting your own gaze. “After everything I’ve put you through.”

You don’t really know how to respond to that. Dark sounds sincere enough. His expression is open, less cold than a handful of minutes ago. You can’t tell how much of it is real and how much might be exaggerated.

“Where do I go from here?” you eventually ask. “I mean… I don’t exactly have a home to go back to, anymore. My family must all be…” you trail off, not wanting to finish that sentence.

Dark gives you a sympathetic look, “Yes. I do… apologize for that, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll want some time to mourn the losses of the life you used to have. However,” he added, “I do have some monetary compensation saved up for you to do with as you please. You could… purchase an apartment, if you wish. You could… start over, so to speak.”

You realize you don’t really have any other options. The only thing you can do, at this point, is move on. Move on from Mark. From the decades you spent trapped in that mirror. From the life you used to live, as the District Attorney.

“Thank you,” you tell Dark, voice quiet. “I… What will you do now? Since Mark’s been dealt with, and I’m back… Are you gonna try starting over as well?”

“I have some… new issues to attend to,” Dark answers, expression souring slightly. “But you shouldn’t worry about me, Y/N. The world is a very different place now, compared to… back when you knew it. You should explore—have fun. Make friends. See everything it has to offer.”

You breathe in deep, consider Dark’s words. “And if I need to reach you?”

“Ah, yes,” Dark says, as if suddenly remembering something important. “I believe you’re at least somewhat familiar with the concept of cell-phones, correct? I’m sure you’ve used them during one of your many adventures with Mark.”

“I… yeah, I think so,” you say.

“Fantastic. If you need me, just call,” Dark says.

He then hands you a rectangle that appears to be made of glass and metal. It has a black screen, and he taps on it. The screen lights up and displays the current time and date. The screen’s background is a swirl of colors—different shades of pink.

“Wilford set this up,” he explains. “But you can change the background, if you wish. I added my phone number, along with Wil’s. Mark—ah, alternate-universe Mark, that is—also insisted that I add in his number. But really, Y/N, if you need anything, you can always call me.”

You examine the device more closely, take a couple minutes to get acquainted with it. It looks easy enough to operate.

“Thanks,” you tell him.

“No problem,” Dark replies kindly. “As I said, it’s the least I can do for you, my dear Y/N.”

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