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wildroseofarran · 11 months

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For Better or Worse, Part II || Captain Issott & Boone || December, 2021

Tristan: He would've wanted to kill him for the look on his mother's face alone.

Two weeks after Luke's visit with the private investigator, Tristan found himself sitting on a hotel balcony staring off at the horizon. The view was incredible but he wasn't really taking it in. All he could see--all he'd been able to see for days--was the look on his mother's face when he'd told her about the results of Dakota's investigation.

The DNA test confirmed it: Gideon Clare Boone was his biological father, the man who had impregnated Megan Seger in 1981 and left her to raise a child on her own.

A child that would turn out to be, to Tristan's devastation and Meg's bewilderment, a fucking merman.

And now here he was. Sitting in a hotel in Playa del Carmen, Mexico trying to work up the nerve to go see the man while trying desperately not to hurl.

Leslie: Leslie had made a point to distance himself from Meg during the ordeal. It wasn't his place to speak up and interrupt the whirlwind of emotion to process between herself and her son. Refusing to influence how she felt about the supernatural simply because he was a part of it. Instead, he busied himself by updating his passport, learning key phrases and possible responses in Spanish. An easy feat, thanks be to his fluency in Portuguese.

Something for them to practice together. His version of healthy distraction. But now they were in Mexico. First time. He wanted to sample local cuisine. Browse local markets. Something to occupy himself further. Give them something other than their reason for being here.

But they couldn't avoid reality for long. Leslie wouldn't allow it.

First, he would gently throw his pillow at Tristan's back.

"You're slowly pulling a Band-Aid."

Tristan: Tristan startled far more than a soft pillow warranted, providing evidence enough of how far his mind was wandering.

More than anything he wished they were here just for pleasure. An actual vacation was so much better than this.

He sighed and held it on his lap. “Worried I’ll see my breakfast again if I rip it off. Can’t seem to make myself move either. It’s like I’m glued to this chair.”

Leslie: "You can't walk backwards from this. You can mourn what was, but you can't go back, baby. I'm sorry you have a shitty father, but you don't have a shitty life."

Tristan: He shook his head. “No. I don’t have a shitty life. I have a damn good one. I’ve got a mama that did her best to raise me right. I’ve got a roof over my head and a job I enjoy.”

He stood and walked over to Leslie. “And the man I love and I have got two beautiful little girls. That’s a damn good life, and I’m proud of it.”

Leslie: "Then there's nothing he can say or do that'll change that. You already know the man he is. There'll be no surprises. We just need a few answers."

Tristan: Tristan shook his head. “Nothing he can say or do will change that,” he repeated in an effort to reassure himself. Knowing what he had and that whatever happened today wouldn't change it did make him feel better, but the dread was still there.

“I know what kind of man he is but not the man himself. He made sure of that when he took off and if we’re being honest, I don’t really want to know him. I’ve got a parent. I just want answers.”

Leslie: "Then that's what we're walking into. With that, there's nothing to be disappointed in. Your mother is waiting for you in Edenton."

Leslie leaned back, taking Tristan with him.

"Can always be tomorrow. Rip the band-aid off, or sex and food market."

Tristan: Although he nodded and smiled, there wasn't a doubt in Tristan's mind that there could still be very much to be disappointed in. His father could refuse to talk. He could've taken off at some point between Dakota's investigation and their arrival. He could take off the moment he saw them and disappear into the sea.

There was so much that could go so very wrong. He hoped it wouldn't, but he couldn't discount it.

Tristan smiled and shook his head for a third time. "Whole point of ripping off a band-aid is to get it over with. Let's go ahead and get it over with. 'Sides, much as I appreciate your confidence in me, I wouldn't be able to get it up right now, sweetheart."

Leslie: "You don't always have to be on top, you know." His smile was tempered. Even the playful nip at Tristan's face was delicately measured.

"Was hoping you'd want to get this over with. Sooner you see him, the sooner you can move to the next step."

Back to their feet, then. One more kiss for the road, cradling Tristan's jaw in both hands.

"Just gonna lock up some things and we'll go."

Tristan: The next step...

Just what the hell was that exactly? Damned if he knew.

He'd take that kiss gladly, promising Leslie another when they'd done what they had to do. He grabbed his bag from the closet and made sure Luke's file was inside, along with all of Dakota's surveillance photos and a few others he'd brought along just in case.

There would be no mistaking the man, and there would be no room for denial once he was found.

"The boat rental place is a ways away. I'll call the front desk so they can get us a taxi." Boat rentals. Another of many jobs related to the water.

Fitting, for a merman.

Leslie: "How's your Spanish?" Leslie asked, hands stuffed into his pockets. His Portuguese would play a crucial role, if Tristan had nothing to go on. Wouldn't be the first time Leslie would have to pretend. Never before in this setting.

Tristan: “Passable. Won’t win any awards but I can get by.”

Tristan called down to the front desk and, not wanting to wait in the room, took Leslie’s hand and led him downstairs.

He had the address of the boat rental place so finding it wouldn’t be a problem. The taxi driver probably thought they were just two more tourists out of many wanting a day out on the water.

Not that Tristan could even be in the water in public anymore. The man they were going to see had made sure of that.

When they arrived, he paid the driver and mumbled a thank you before getting out.

Leslie: Today, Leslie was easily led by the hand. He checked himself yet again for wallet, keys, and phone. He'd never left his passport in a hotel room before, and today was no exception. Perhaps once he mastered a better lock spell for safes.

This was Tristan's turn to lead. No more jokes, no more teasing to coax a smile. His intention to be nothing more than a quiet support beam while Tristan confronted his biological father.

Tristan/Boone: The boat rental shop was a tiny faded blue building with a rusted sign, barely noticeable among the sea of tourists and dozens of other rental places and stalls and shops up and down the road by the docks. A few people stopped to read a second sign with the hourly and day rates, but very few—if any—actually went inside, and no one was coming out.

He’s probably alone.

Tristan stared at the building and swallowed, limbs like jelly and heart beating a tattoo in his chest. This was it. After months of searching and waiting, after years of wondering, he was finally going to set eyes on the man that was his father.

He felt himself take Leslie’s hand and walk forward as if in a daze. He didn’t really feel the doorknob as he turned it or hear the little bell above it chime its welcome. The warmth of Leslie’s hand in his was the only thing confirming that this wasn’t a dream, until he saw him—

A burly man with a strong, bearded face and a mane of salt and pepper hair. This was Gideon Clare Boone.

His father.

The man turned to face them, nodding in greeting. And, gauging them to be American—or maybe Australian—said, “Folks here to rent a boat or some jet skis?”

Leslie: The man looked almost exactly as Leslie had imagined. Tristan, having never laid eyes upon his father, shouldered many similarities. If ever there was debate between nature versus nurture, Leslie knew once and for all the answer was both, slamming together at once.

His instinct was to speak. As much as he didn't want to shield his companion, just a moment longer would do no harm.

"Depends the price," he offered, making no effort to hide his blended accent.

Tristan/Boone: Ah. Gideon nodded to himself. Brits. Figured.

"Won't find better in town." His voice was surprisingly gentle and clear despite its depth. There might have been an accent there, or a combination of them even, but it was too light to distinguish. "How long are ya'll here for? I can offer you a weekly rate if--"

"Are you Gideon Boone?"

Gideon's easy polite smile froze as he turned to face Tristan, who seemed to have at last found his voice and was fixing the man with a cold stare.

"...Who's asking?" Subtly, he reached beneath the counter.

Leslie: Leslie took a single step backwards, his angle towards Gideon Boone somewhat sideways. It was a strategic and defensive stance, though his expression remained calm. His right hand, furthest from view, had become warm with Quintessence, index finger slowly circling, pointed at the floor. A gust spell in his arsenal, though the concern now was whether or not he could complete the ritual before something happened.

Tristan/Boone: Fortunately for him, Tristan had seen enough movies and had spent enough nights drinking in Charlie Brandt's sketchy dive to recognize what that little gesture meant.

Unfortunately for Gideon Boone, rather than have the intended intimidating effect, it just pissed Tristan right the hell off.

"What?" he sneered, nodding towards the counter. "You gonna shoot your own son?"

The question hit Boone like a bucket of ice water.

He froze once again, taking a minute to fully, properly look the guy over. When he'd been asked for by name he'd expected a debt collector or a bounty hunter or a pissed off jilted husband who'd joined forces with another pissed off jilted husband to confront him, but a son? His son?

Boone paled, and Tristan noticed.

"Coming back to you now, ain't it?" He left the comfort of Leslie's side and took a step closer. "'Bout forty years ago, Kitty Hawk? Woman with wavy blonde hair? Taught high school? Is it all coming back?"

"Now, wait--"

Another step. "Her name was Megan. Told you she was going to have your baby and you took off. Called, wrote, went to your place, you were nowhere to be fucking found."

"Look, man, you've got the wrong--"

"But before you took off like the dickless fucking coward you are, you forgot to tell her that the baby she was carrying was a fucking merman!"

Tristan dunked his arm in the fish tank on the counter and pulled it out again, revealing the shimmering iridescent scales on his skin. Some of the water that had splashed landed on Gideon's skin and had the exact same effect. Even their color was the same.

"Gonna tell me I have the wrong guy again?"

Leslie: There was a lot to take in. The shouting, body language, nuance of expression - but his world revolved around Boone. He had all the time in the world to discuss and comfort Tristan; not if the man was dead. One wrong move and his spell would throw his intended through the tattered excuse of a wall.

But, at least for the moment, he didn't seem required. Tristan had this planned, at least in appearance. Must have gone over his speech a hundred times, or perhaps an outline. Whatever had been prepared now felt like a burst dam, and well deserved.

For his part, he remained a statue.

Tristan/Boone: Boone had enough experience with debt collectors, bounty hunters, and pissed off husbands to be able to tell who was a real threat and who was more bark than bite. This guy? His--fuck, his son--absolutely did not fall into the second category. He was taking a swing if he got the chance.

There was a tiny part of him that was just a little bit proud of that. The part that wasn't looking to get decked.

The rest of his parts were trying to think on the fly. Even if he had wanted to deny anything or hide his skin, it was impossible. He'd been caught off guard.

"All right all right all right, look." Boone raised his hands defensively. "Why don't we all just caaaaalm the hell down. I'm tryin' to run a business here and I can't have anyone seeing shit they ain't supposed to. Why don't you come back later and--"

Tristan scoffed. "Are you fucking kidding me? You think I'm gonna give you a chance to skip town before I get what I came here for? How stupid do you think I am? We're gonna talk about this now."

He turned and stalked over the door, flipping the lock and the 'open' sign to the side that said 'closed'.

Leslie: Leslie took his eyes off Boone long enough to check for a secondary exit. Anywhere this man might run to slip away. Hell, an open window would probably be enough, if given the opportunity.

He didn't want to dismiss his loaded spell, but neither did he want to allow any chance of escape. The smallest silence was disturbed by a thick pop of his joints. Left hand raised and fingers painfully tense and kinked. A brief chill overwhelmed the room, gone as swiftly as it had appeared. This was all he could do; restraint and a single offensive.

Tristan/Boone: The rental shop was little more than a shack but it was larger than it appeared from the street. There was a beaded curtain back behind the right end of the counter that led to a room that doubled as a living space and office, beyond which there was another door that led to the outside.

Boone, however, wasn't thinking about any of that. He might have, though, if he hadn't felt that momentary chill and a crackle of something in the air that felt distinctly like magic.

It wasn't coming from his son; it was the other guy. Something told him that one would take a lot more than a swing if Boone made one wrong move.

Nothing for it then.

"All right all right, fine. You win. Come around ba--"

"Uh-uh."

Tristan interjected before Boone could take a step, going behind the counter and putting himself between his father and the doorway with the beaded curtain.

"What'd I just say? I'm not giving you a chance to escape out of here, I'm going first."

If there was another door or something back there, Tristan was going to make damn sure his father didn't get anywhere near it.

Leslie: Windows were no longer an option, but there was no need to explain himself. No need to make this man feel any more like a cornered animal. He was primed to strike defensively with any provocation, and while Leslie would not blame him, he also would not allow such action.

The readied fire in his hand, set to explode with a final flick of his fingers, warmed his skin uncomfortably, but still, he said nothing, waiting to follow behind and stand guard in the doorway.

Tristan/Boone: Boone felt more like a man being dragged to the gallows than a cornered animal but it all came down to the same thing. Couldn’t run forever.

“Fine, whatever you say,” he grumbled, following his son into the other room. “Wasn’t gonna try anything, geez.”

There were two doors in the room: one led outside and the other to a bathroom. Tristan locked the outside door and then planted himself in front of it. Boone might say he wouldn’t try anything but Tristan didn’t buy it.

He doubted Leslie did either.

For his part Boone just sighed and shook his head, taking a seat on the small couch against one wall.

“All right, you got me where you want me.” He turned to his son. “What do you want?”

Tristan gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious? The hell do you think I want?”

Boone turned to the other guy. “Help me out here.”

Leslie: The witch took a breath, refusing the swallow the lump in his throat. It wasn't so unreasonable to give an answer, at least, one suitable to the situation, and the man on the couch.

"Pretend for the next thirty minutes you're Pinocchio. Or truth serum. Whatever gets you through this."

Tristan/Boone: “Yeah, Pinocchio.” Tristan stepped closer. “Except instead of your nose growing, I stick a fishing lure under your fingernails every time you tell a lie.”

Again Boone looked between them. It was almost as though he were watching some sort of deranged tennis match.

“Is he serious—are you serious?”

Leslie: Leslie looked at his beloved, doing his very best not to seem concerned in front of Boone. Not to give anything away and cause vulnerability. Never in a hundred years would he have expected those words out of that mouth. But this was his man. There would be no contradicting.

"You'll not find out if you just comply."

Tristan/Boone: Tempting as it was to keep his mouth shut, Boone knew when he was beat. He wasn't entirely sure if his son was the type to actually carry through a threat like that but the look in his eyes was tipping the scales toward 'yes' even if the other guy didn't look too sure.

"Fine, fine!" Boone raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Ask away. What do you wanna know?"

Tristan crossed his arms over his chest. "For starters, I wanna know how the hell I managed to live nearly thirty-nine years of my life without knowing what the fuck I am."

"Thirty-nine?" Boone repeated incredulously, regarding his son with utter shock and turning to the other guy for confirmation. "You're thirty-nine?"

Tristan scoffed. "What, didn't realize it had been nearly four goddamn decades since you walked out on my mother?"

Leslie: Hearing his age always startled Leslie as well but for a different reason. The man before him was strong, quick-witted, youthful. A year older. Perhaps two. Seven and a half years seemed too many.

It wasn't his place to say anything. No intervening. Nothing until Boone made an inappropriate move. His role was silence, if not intimidation. Tristan had plenty and to spare.

Tristan/Boone: No he damn well had not. Time was a son of a bitch.

"Fuck me running," Boone muttered, crossing the room before either of them could stop him. There was a bottle of tequila in his desk and he was going to take a swig or three whether they liked it or not. He needed it.

Thirty-nine years since Meg had come to him to tell him she was pregnant. Thirty-nine years since he'd packed up his shit and put Kitty Hawk in his rearview mirror. Thirty-nine years since he'd snuck into Meg's hospital room and seen that tiny little thing sleeping in a basinet beside his mother.

Thirty-nine goddamn fucking years.

"I'm waiting, Boone."

Boone turned to look at his son, at the tiny little thing who had grown into the pissed off man who was staring back at him. He took another swig of tequila.

"I hid it. When you were born...I went back to Kitty Hawk and..." Boone gestured vaguely.

"You hid it. What does that even mean? Did you take my abilities? Did you put a spell on me?"

Boone nodded.

Leslie: To the Wyld and Wyrm, he wanted to say something. Ask questions. Tristan would get to the question eventually. More like a statement. It must have already been on his mind. Boone knew this would happen. One day his son would appear, his abilities realized. Why bother delaying the inevitable?

Tristan/Boone: "Why?"

"So you wouldn't--fucking know! So Meg wouldn't know!"

"Don't you think at that point it was too little too fucking late?!" Tristan shouted. "You let her get pregnant!"

"That wasn't supposed--!"

"You let her get pregnant and you didn't tell her!"

"How the hell could I? You think it's easy to just tell people th--"

"No, I fucking don't, which is why it makes even less sense to me that you'd let me happen in the first place!"

Boone had no answer to that. He just drank more tequila.

Tristan shook his head in disgust. "If you were so goddamn worried about her knowing you should've done something about it when she was in time to get rid of me, not when I was already fucking born!"

Tristan unlocked the backdoor and threw it open, letting it slam shut as he stormed outside.

Leslie: Too late to realize his shoulders had tensed. Raised, even, without knowing. Shouting such as this was new to him, and made obvious by the quiet shock and confusion in his eyes.

Too many thoughts to organize, too many raw feelings he needed to process. What Tristan had said... he couldn't allow those statements to affect him.

The silence could only stretch for so long.

"Meg... is very open-minded," he said, gently. "You had to know that. Know she would do anything for her son. You... lost something you didn't have to."

Boone: "You're wrong." Boone was staring a hole into the wall. His voice had lost some of its energy, some of its fight. It was like the past forty years were hitting him all at once.

"All I did was let go of something that wasn't meant for me to begin with. I knew I wasn't cut out to have a kid. White picket fence and a station wagon and little league games weren't something I wanted."

Leslie: "He's a fisherman. He plays soccer on weekends. I told him what I am and he just... kept on as though I told him the weather. You ran away because of a picture that didn't have to be the picture. Is that all? Is that what all of your kind do? That's not Tristan."

Boone: A fisherman. That figured. The physical manifestations of what his son was may have been hidden with magic but, like love and poverty, there were some things you just couldn't hide. A merman was always going to yearn for the sea, even if he didn't know what he was.

But that wasn't what made Boone forfeit his staring contest with the wall and turn to look at the man he was speaking with.

"Is that his name? Tristan?"

Leslie: Leslie couldn't help but straighten as he was turned to. Despite all of his conflicting feelings, the man was older, and upon the pressing subject, an authority.

"You... You didn't even know his name? How could you just... "

Boone: "There was a little card with his name on it stuck to his bassinet in the hospital. Didn't bother to read it."

Boone returned to the couch with the bottle. "Didn't see the point in knowing the name of a kid I was never gonna see again. Just did what I went there to do and got out. How's that for father of the year, huh?"

He scoffed, drank again. "Still think I should've stuck around?"

Leslie: "A better version of you." There was no bite behind his words. On the contrary. Without intention, there was something almost childlike. His disbelief bordered on innocent. He had seen things, done terrible things, and still had the capacity to be astonished.

"But, if you were able to - you had to know this would happen."

Boone: "Ha! There ain't no better version, sport." Boone gestured sarcastically at himself. "This is it." The only version of him there was, and the only version he cared to be.

He shrugged. "The thought probably occurred to me at some point, couldn't say for sure."

Leslie: His eyes lowered to Boone's feet. The man didn't deserve eye contact.

"Merman, is that what you're called? I saw other names. We didn't know which... was correct."

Boone: Boone nodded as he drank again. At the pace he was going, he was well on his way to drunk.

Couldn’t happen soon enough.

“Yep. Merman’s what I’ve always used. There’s a few other things out there like me but they’re not exactly the same. There’s more to them. Me, I’m just straightforward half-man, half-fish.”

Leslie: Tristan needed his moment. Leslie would fill in the blanks in between. However long that would take.

"With a tail? Because he - when it happened, he just... nearly died. I want to know more."

Boone: “With a tail,” he confirmed with another nod. “And gills. He not have gills?”

Leslie: "That's all he had. And some - some scales."

Boone: “He still not have a tail?”

Leslie: "Took a while. A lot of patience, but, yes, he has one."

Boone: “Took a while, huh…” And he’d said that the first time, there had been only scales and gills. The magic hadn’t broken all at once, it had worn off gradually.

He shook his head. “Should’ve been permanent. I could deck that asshole magician.”

Leslie: "Could have been intentional," the witch nearly scoffed, "or he felt slighted."

Boone: “What right did he have to feel slighted? I should feel slighted, that little trick cost me fifteen grand.”

Leslie: "That's all?" said with offense in his tone.

Boone: “That’s not enough for you? Know how much money that was back then?”

Boone shook his head and emptied the bottle. There was another one here somewhere…

Leslie: The chill in his hand dissipated, but the fire ready to ignite in his other tingled, becoming uncomfortable to hold. He had to let the spell go, shaking his hand and flexing his fingers. He could restart on a dime if need be. This man was a disappointment, but he wasn't much of a threat. Not yet.

"To withhold someone from their nature, I don't see that very often. Not from honest, good people. I'd expect the kind of magician you found to be just that. A magician with parlor tricks."

Boone: At this point, Boone was too buzzed to care about the magic he could sense in the air. If this guy or his son wanted to try something let them; Boone just wanted to be drunk first.

“You gonna stand there and judge me now? Pah.” He waved a hand and began his search for more tequila. “I just did what I had to. I did it for Meg, you know.”

Leslie: "Why do you think Meg needed you to do anything?"

Boone: “Look, she wanted to have the kid all right?” Ah, there it was. Boone pulled a fresh bottle of tequila from a cabinet and opened it.

“Should’ve seen her face when she told me she was knocked up, all excited and imagining the station wagon and shit. All I did was make sure the kid turned out normal. I owed her that much, didn’t I? It was supposed to be permanent. She’d get a normal kid and I’d get to keep doing what I’ve always done. Everybody wins.”

Leslie: Leslie's eyes shut, but only for a moment. Still on high alert, he couldn't let his guard down, not with Tristan absent. He could only assume this conversation was between the two of them. Which was why he made no effort to hide the absolute disgust in his voice.

"Frankly, the easy way out never made anyone in this room very happy."

Boone: “The hell difference does it make now anyway?” Boone flopped back on the couch with his bottle, shaking his head all the while.

“He got forty good years, didn’t he? So did Meg. Now he just has to be careful about getting wet, what’s the big deal? Watch, when he shacks up with some girl and decides he wants to continue the species one day, he’ll be singing a different tune. I betcha dollars to donuts when that day comes, he’s gonna show up here again begging for that parlor trick.”

Leslie: Leslie's hands lowered altogether, gently falling to his thighs. His expression fell somewhere between dead and disappointed. There was nothing more in this world he needed than Tristan back in this room. An unwelcome tingle itched his fingertips.

What had been an innocuous voice had darkened, lowered. "Do you know what I am?"

Boone: Boone glanced over at his companion. He’d looked docile enough before but now he was starting to look as pissed as his son.

Just couldn’t fucking win today.

“I can guess,” he sighed, looking away again. “So what are you gonna do, huh? Avenge your buddy? Take a swing at an old man?”

Leslie: "I could castrate you," the witch said simply.

Boone: Now there was a threat Boone had heard before. A couple of times.

“And accomplish what exactly?”

Leslie: "Never doing this to another innocent family again, for starters."

Boone: “Way ahead of you, sport. Been shooting blanks since ‘86.”

Leslie: "You still have a sac."

Tristan/Boone: “So what, you’re gonna tear it off? Gonna tear my dick off, too?”

“There’s an idea.”

Tristan’s voice came just seconds before the back door opened again. With these thin walls, he’d managed to hear the last of what Boone had said.

Leslie: Leslie's chin lowered upon Tristan's return, eyes falling back to Boone's feet where he wanted them.

Tristan/Boone: Boone didn’t bother sitting up or saying anything, and it was just as well.

Tristan was done.

“Come on, Les,” he said softly, holding the door open for his love.

Leslie: His head raised, looking at Tristan questioningly. Only one question: are you certain? To have come all this way, to have left the room for the majority of it, leaving Leslie to ask the questions he probably hadn't heard. Was there nothing else Tristan wanted?

Tristan: Tristan could only give him a nod and a defeated look. Sometime between slamming the door and making the walk back he’d realized that there was no point in trying to have a conversation with his father. It wouldn’t turn back time or undo what had been done.

Coming here was more about needing a face to blame than anything else. Having gotten that didn’t make him feel any better.

Leslie had probably known that all along.

“There’s nothing for us here. Let’s go.”

Leslie: There was nothing that he could say to make this man feel guilt. If he had harbored any, his conscience was clear with forty years of normalcy. Saying they would never think of him again, that they felt sorry for him, nothing would harm this man. Nothing but physical pain, and Leslie couldn't bring himself to do it. Not unless this man raised a hand to the one beside him.

Without another word, he turned away.

Tristan/Boone: They almost made it. They’d decided to leave, to walk away from this place and this situation.

But Boone just couldn’t resist a parting shot.

“So that’s it, huh? Came alllll this way, went through alllll the trouble of tracking your old man down, and now you’re just gonna leave? Lemme tell you something.”

Boone took a huge swig of tequila and staggered to his feet, swaying as he pointed the bottle at Tristan and Leslie.

“I did you a favor. I gave you forty years where you didn’t have to worry about a goddamn fuckin’ thing and now here you are throwing it in my face. Think you would’ve gotten that without me? Ha!”

Another swig. “You get to stand there now because I made you normal. You got a chance because I gave it to you and the second you realize that and decide to put a couple brats in some girl you’re gonna come dragging your ass back here, begging me for the spell I used on you and I’ll tell you right now, it’s going to cost you a hell of a lot more than fifteen gra—”

Tristan’s fist would cut off the rest of whatever Boone had to say.

Leslie: Nonsense said only in his presence. There was no sense bringing this up again. Nothing but malice. Leslie would do nothing to stop him. Perhaps he would regret Tristan's catharsis in an hour, but in the moment, he did nothing but remain still, and quiet, and wait for Boone to rub his jaw before taking a breath.

"He has two perfect daughters, and there'll be no begging. I promise you."

Tristan/Boone: He was too drunk to see it coming but he wouldn’t take it personally. He’d been expecting the swing from the get-go. They were even now.

“I don’t swing that way anyway,” Tristan muttered, taking Leslie’s hand and leading him away.

It took a second for Boone’s inebriated brain to catch what Tristan had said and once he did, he scoffed.

“So much for normal then, eh?” he called after them, cackling. “Can’t blame that one on me, sonny boy! That one’s all Meg!”

The mocking laughter would follow them until they got a good ways away from the shop, at which point they would be passed by a national guard truck heading the way they’d come from.

Leslie: It was now that Leslie felt shame. He hadn't expected Tristan to take his hand, to make any indication of their relationship beyond a pissed-off friend. Just another needle in Tristan's spine, another laugh.

He squeezed his boyfriend's hand.

Tristan: Tristan squeezed back. The reaction hadn’t surprised him.

Why wouldn’t his father be a homophobic asshole on top of everything else?

“You okay?”

Leslie: "Don't ever say that again. Don't ever act like you wish you were never born. I never want to hear that again."

Tristan: He stopped, turning to Leslie and feeling a moment's confusion until he remembered what he'd said to Boone and realized how it must have sounded.

Tristan took Leslie's other hand and brought both to his lips. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Leslie: "I don't... want to talk about it here." He had brought it up, but he realized too late if they continued he'd shout, or fight tears.

Tristan: "Wanna go back to the hotel?"

Leslie: "Yes." All of this was for Tristan. There was nothing here he wanted.

Tristan: "Okay." He kissed Leslie's hands again and looked around for a taxi to hail.

They'd go back to the hotel, they'd talk, they'd have a nice meal later. Then, if Leslie wanted, they could go back home. They'd done what they'd come here to do.

#For Better or Worse Part 2 #leslieeissott #tristanseger

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notappl1cable · 2 years

Text

This will be one hell of a first post.

TW: this post does talk about self harm and self destructive behaviors. Please proceed with caution or scroll past if these are touchy or difficult topics. Reading this will not be worth any of the problems that might rise from those issues. Please be safe.

So last spring my mental health spiraled. It had already been in a bit of a though spot for the past fourish years, then it really got messy in 2020 and by the time i finally started high school it was getting out of hand. I had a multi month long mental breakdown last fall followed by a slightly better period that then kept getting worse until the spiral in spring.

It ultimately got so bad that i started punching/kicking doors and walls, screaming and throwing stuff around my room. Ultimately, i found, the best way to handle those difficult feelings was self harm. And so i did. It wasn’t anything big, it honestly just looked like scratches. But it was enough to numb the intense feelings.

I was fortunate enough that for me, this all has stopped as the spiral has eased. I still have difficult moments during which i feel absolutely horrible, but i have not physically harmed myself since spring, which is a good thing!

Today i talked with a friend and they mentioned The Butterfly Project as a way to possibly handle difficult emotions. I found the idea quite sweet but also acknowledged that i do not deal with physical self harm anymore, which is what the project is amied at.

However just beacuse i do not cut myself anymore, it doesn’t mean that i wouldn’t still deal with self harming or self destructive behaviors of other sorts. Many have quite possibly already pointed out that self harm can also be harming yourself in ways that aren’t cutting. It also isn’t always physical. People can put themselves in situations that could purposely trigger them or go out of their way to find fex. media that can make the feeling worse. These are both things that i have recently realized i deal with.

So, we made a few tweaks to the project. For myself, instead of cutting the thing that will kill the butterfly is going to be those self destructive behaviors. Meaning, if i get the urge to maybe watch something that i know fully well can absolutely trigger those harmful thoughts or feelings or i start interacting with media that gives me an opportunity to return to those very negative emotions, i will draw a butterfly. And if i end up engaging in that behavior it will kill the butterflies.

To be honest, it was kind of a crazy thing to realize that doing it like this would be really difficult at least for a while. But that is an excellent reason to do this in the first place, after all, if it was easy i wouldn’t need to do it.

As for why i’m even writing this, it’s to not engage in that behavior that will make me spiral. I’m also sad to announce that before i wrote this i did already start doing it, so my first butterfly, or in this particular case ig it would be a moth, died before i even drew it on my arm. On a positive note, it can only get better from here.

The name friend’s name has been covered for privacy reasons, but i still wanted show off the moth boy. Also if anyone has suggestions for how to show that a butterfly/butterflies have died that would be great.

Thank you for reading this far into this post. If you happen to be someone also doing this, i’m proud of you. It takes a lot to even start a lot to keep going. It also takes a lot of pain to get to that point and i am so proud that you’re still here. 💛

#the butterfly project #mental health

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rubylane · 3 years

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* 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐘 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐎 . lyric starters from sour, change pronouns as needed.

𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐥 .

❛ i want it to be , like , messy . ❜ ❛ i’m so insecure . ❜ ❛ i’m so caught up in the news of who likes me and who hates you . ❜ ❛ they’d all be so disappointed . ❜ ❛ where’s my fucking teenage dream ? ❜ ❛ i don't stick up for myself . ❜ ❛ i'm anxious and nothing can help . ❜ ❛ i wish people liked me more . ❜ ❛ all i did was try my best . ❜ ❛ this the kind of thanks i get ? ❜ ❛ i wish i could disappear . ❜ ❛ god , it's brutal out here . ❜ ❛ i feel like no one wants me . ❜ ❛ i only have two real friends . ❜

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫 .

❛ i played dumb but i always knew . ❜ ❛ i kept quiet so i could keep you . ❜ ❛ ain’t it funny how you said you were friends ? ❜ ❛ you betrayed me . ❜ ❛ i know that you'll never feel sorry . ❜ ❛ loved you at your worst but that didn't matter . ❜ ❛ but you’re still a traitor . ❜ ❛ there’s no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly . ❜ ❛ and you told me i was paranoid . ❜ ❛ i wish that you had thought this through before i went and fell in love with you . ❜

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 .

❛ i got my driver's license last week . ❜ ❛ she's everything i'm insecure about . ❜ ❛ how could i ever love someone else ? ❜ ❛ i know we weren’t perfect but i’ve never felt this way for no one . ❜ ❛ i just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that i’m gone . ❜ ❛ all my friends are tired of hearing how much i miss you . ❜ ❛ i kinda feel sorry for them . ❜ ❛ they'll never know you the way that i do . ❜ ❛ i guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me . ❜ ❛ i still see your face in the white cars . ❜ ❛ can't drive past the places we used to go to . ❜ ❛ i still fuckin’ love you . ❜ ❛ i still hear your voice in the traffic . ❜ ❛ you said forever . ❜ ❛ now i drive alone past your street . ❜

𝟏 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝟑 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 .

❛ i called you on the phone today . ❜ ❛ all i did was speak normally . ❜ ❛ somehow i still struck a nerve . ❜ ❛ you got me fucked up in the head . ❜ ❛ never doubted myself so much . ❜ ❛ like am i pretty ? ❜ ❛ i hate that i give you power over that kinda stuff . ❜ ❛ it's always one step forward and three steps back . ❜ ❛ i’m the love of your life until i make you mad . ❜ ❛ do you love me , want me , hate me ? ❜ ❛ no, i don't understand . ❜ ❛ maybe in some masochistic way i kind of find it all exciting . ❜ ❛ which lover will i get today ? ❜ ❛ will you walk me to the door or send me home crying ? ❜ ❛ did i say something wrong ? ❜ ❛ did i do something wrong ? ❜ ❛ maybe this is all your fault instead . ❜ ❛ i'd leave you, but the rollercoaster's all i've ever had . ❜

𝐝𝐞𝐣𝐚 𝐯𝐮 .

❛ i bet she’s braggin’ to all her friends . ❜ ❛ so when you gonna tell her that we did that , too ? ❜ ❛ she thinks it's special, but it's all reused . ❜ ❛ do you call her , almost say my name ? ❜ ❛ that was our place . ❜ ❛ i found it first . ❜ ❛ do you get déjà vu ? ❜ ❛ let’s be honest , we kinda do sound the same . ❜ ❛ i hate to think that i was just your type . ❜ ❛ that was the show we talked about . ❜ ❛ don’t act like we didn’t do that shit , too . ❜ ❛ a different girl now, but there's nothing new . ❜

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝟒 𝐮 .

❛ well , good for you . ❜ ❛ i guess you moved on really easily . ❜ ❛ remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world ? ❜ ❛ you look happy and healthy . ❜ ❛ not me , if you ever cared to ask . ❜ ❛ you’re doin’ great out there without me . ❜ ❛ god , i wish that i could do that . ❜ ❛ i’ve lost my mind . ❜ ❛ i’ve spent the night cryin’ on the floor of my bathroom . ❜ ❛ you’re so unaffected . ❜ ❛ i really don't get it . ❜ ❛ i guess you’re gettin’ everything you want . ❜ ❛ it's like we never even happened . ❜ ❛ what the fuck is up with that ? ❜ ❛ it's like you never even met me . ❜ ❛ remember when you swore to god i was the only person who ever got you ? ❜ ❛ you will never have to hurt the way you know that i do . ❜ ❛ maybe i'm too emotional . ❜ ❛ your apathy’s like a wound in salt . ❜ ❛ maybe you never cared at all . ❜

𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 .

❛ ‘cause i thought you'd like me more . ❜ ❛ tried so hard to be everything that you liked . ❜ ❛ stupid , emotional , obsessive little me . ❜ ❛ i knew from the start this is exactly how you’d leave . ❜ ❛ the nеxt second, you were gone . ❜ ❛ you left me there crying . ❜ ❛ you always say i'm never satisfied . ❜ ❛ but i don't think that's true . ❜ ❛ all i ever wanted was to be enough for you . ❜ ❛ maybe i’m just not as interesting . ❜ ❛ you couldn't have cared less about someone who loved you more . ❜ ❛ i’d say you broke my heart . ❜ ❛ but you broke much more than that . ❜ ❛ now i don't want your sympathy . ❜ ❛ i just want myself back . ❜ ❛ don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded ? ❜ ❛ don’t you think i loved you too much to think i deserve nothing ? ❜ ❛ don't tell me you're sorry . ❜ ❛ feel sorry for yourself . ❜ ❛ someday i'll be everything to somebody else . ❜ ❛ you'll be the one who's crying . ❜ ❛ i don't think anything could ever be enough for you . ❜

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫 .

❛ i thought my heart was detached . ❜ ❛ does she mean you forgot about me ? ❜ ❛ i hope you're happy but not like how you were with me . ❜ ❛ i’m selfish, i know . ❜ ❛ i hope you’re happy . ❜ ❛ but don’t be happier . ❜ ❛ an eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean . ❜ ❛ now i’m pickin’ her apart . ❜ ❛ i wish you all the best , really . ❜ ❛ i hope you’re happy, but don't be happier . ❜

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 .

❛ i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room . ❜ ❛ wish i didn't care . ❜ ❛ i know their beauty’s  not  my  lack . ❜ ❛ It feels  like that weight  is on my back . ❜ ❛ i can't let it go . ❜ ❛ comparison is killing me slowly . ❜ ❛ i think i think too much . ❜ ❛ i’m so sick of myself . ❜ ❛ i’d rather be anyone else . ❜ ❛ my jealousy started following me . ❜ ❛ i see everyone getting all the things i want . ❜ ❛ i’m happy for them, but then again, i’m not . ❜ ❛ i can't stand it . ❜ ❛ oh god , i sound crazy . ❜ ❛ their win is not my loss . ❜ ❛ i can’t help getting caught up in it all . ❜ ❛ all your friends are so cool . ❜ ❛ yeah, you're living the life . ❜ ❛ i wanna be you so bad . ❜ ❛ i don't even know you . ❜ ❛ all i see is what i should be . ❜

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 .

❛ know that i loved you so bad . ❜ ❛ i let you treat me like that . ❜ ❛ i was your willing accomplice . ❜ ❛ i watched as you fled the scene . ❜ ❛ the things i did just so i could call you mine . ❜ ❛ i hope i was your favorite crime . ❜ ❛ you used me as an alibi . ❜ ❛ i crossed my heart as you crossed the line . ❜ ❛ i defended you to all my friends . ❜ ❛ you know that i'd do it all again . ❜ ❛ it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do . ❜ ❛ i was doin’ it with you . ❜ ❛ i say that i hate you with a smile on my face . ❜ ❛ look what we became . ❜

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐤 .

❛ somehow we fell out of touch . ❜ ❛ hope he took his bad deal and made a royal flush . ❜ ❛ don’t know if i’ll see you again someday . ❜ ❛ i hope that you're okay . ❜ ❛ we don't talk much . ❜ ❛ i just gotta say i miss you . ❜ ❛ address the letters to the holes in my butterfly wings . ❜ ❛ nothing’s forever . ❜ ❛ nothing’s as good as it seems . ❜ ❛ i hope you know how proud i am you were created . ❜ ❛ i hope that you're happier today . ❜

#rp meme #lyric meme #rp sentence starters #lyric sentence starters #* mine .#sour olivia rodrigo

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Dying Starlight

A/n: i dont think an audience for this exists?? ik it’s not shadow and bone related, but ive been reading red queen and i wanted to try writing maven and ive been playing with this idea. umm...on the off-chance that there is an audience for this i do think of this as more of a series but i’ll probably end up deleting this lol

(Series?) Summary: reader is a childhood friend of Mare’s who isn’t officially part of the Scarlet Guard but gets captured by Maven. As a prisoner, she feels like her mind is being messed with as she begins to see a more human side of Maven. The new King tells himself the only thing he sees in her is that she’s a way to get to Mare, but something about her genuiness is infectious.

Irony twists things. Right now, the irony that my last thoughts might be about how I wish I had been trusted with a suicide pill twist my impending doom into something almost comical. I’d laugh, but I’d rather not startle the rats in my cell. This has been their home for presumably years, but I’ve only been down here a few hours.

I scratch the back of my wrist, staring at tired stone walls like they’ve done something to me. I wish I knew what time it was. How long have I been down here? How long has it been since I was separated from Mare? An hour? Three?Each passing minute strikes me like a bullet, but I can’t count them. I’ve never had a talent for accurately feeling the passage of time.

My head aches, frustration and dread tangling themselves in the pit of my stomach. Mare told me the Queen can search through someone’s mind, seeing memories even they can’t remember. What will they do when they see I know virtually nothing? What will happen when they see how close Mare and I truly are? i can’t do anything and the unknown hurts more than my bruised rib.

The sound of the heavy door that divides the luxury of the castle from the wasteland of the cells creaks. I only let my arms flinch, moving from my side to wrap defensively around my stomach. Dull footsteps echo down the pathway that lead to the cell I’m in. I don’t cringe, not even when the sound of walking stops.

I was not born into a rich family, but I was born into a proud one. Fear was practically a criminal act in my household. I’ve been trained to suppress all signs of weakness. My eyes don’t leave the stone wall, I mentally trace the pattern of a long crack in a specific rock. It reminds me of the slope of the Big Dipper.

Will I ever see stars again? The answer leaves a sharp pain in my chest.

“Mare told me about you.”

The words jar me, my stomach dropping in revulsion. Mare had trusted him, and here he stands--successful because he’s a traitor. I know what it’s like to be the most overlooked sibling and to crave to change that. I know what it’s like to want to succeed more than you want air in your lungs, but I don’t think I’d ever betray someone. I like to think that there’s a line even the monster in me won’t cross.

I don’t look at him, partially out of an attempt to protest and partially because I’m afraid of what I’ll see. “She might have mentioned you in passing.”

His scoff is ridiculous. “She didn’t lie about your sense of humor.”

That almost makes me wince. His words are too close, too personal. It’s like he knows me. I turn my. head, ready to cut through the uneasy beginning to get to the miserable middle if it brings me to the end faster.

“You’re here to torment me, not make small talk.” Turning had been a mistake. I regret it instantly. His expression is unforgiving--cold, sharp, and made up of only angles. But that’s not why I stare. I did not expect him to be objectively attractive. The fine slope of his nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, and the ice blue of his eyes. I need to snap out of this mindset. I’m sure his beauty will not be so distracting when he’s burning me. “Though some might consider that the same thing.”

He scoffs again, the sound dry. The sneer of his lips does not diminish his attractiveness. The fact makes me loathe him. “I wonder if you’ll still be so prone to humor after you’ve been broken--any information of worth extracted from your thoughts.”

“Let me save everyone the trouble and just tell you everything that I know now.” My back straightens despite the pain in my ribs. I look pathetic, dirty and in a torn dress. He’s regal, dressed in fine, all black clothing. “I know that Mare wanted to kill you today, I know that she needed a distraction and that her distraction needed to be expendable, which is why I’m sitting in front of you.” I squeeze my hands together awkwardly, a bit of genuine irritation rolling in my stomach. “That’s literally all I know, I’m not even part of the Guard.” I scratch the back of my wrist. If I were him, I wouldn’t believe that, but I’m being honest. How pitiful can one person be that they’re worth more disconnected from the group they work for than as an actual member? “You don’t take that kind of risk for someone that’s only skill set is in thought.”

I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but I don’t regret it. Maybe he’ll think that my story is so pathetic it has to be true. “You have to know more than that.”

“The Scarlet Guard only reaches out to me on a need-to-know basis, and anything worthwhile to you is something I clearly didn’t need to know.” In a way, I’m glad I can’t give him anything. “So are you going to kill me with a bullet or do you prefer more flamboyant executions?” My death should be plain. I am human completely--I bleed red and I have no powers. “I do think anything more than a simple death is more trouble than I’m worth.”

His lips press together oddly, something beneath his expression tightening. “You don’t think your dearest friend will return for you?”

The sarcasm in his voice sparks something in me I thought only my sister could. “I think she has a lot of responsibilities and I wouldn’t blame her for having priorities.”

His eyebrows draw together. “I think you’re painfully unaware of how attached to you she is.” I press my lips into a thin line. “She’ll come for you.”

Something selfish in me hopes that he’s right. No one has ever wanted me enough to come back for me. My mother wanted perfect daughters that knew how to only think in terms of trapping men with stable careers. My sister did it, but I could never manage, and to my mother that made me useless.

“If you believe it,” I mumble beneath my breath.

I don’t know if he hears me. I can’t bring myself to care if he did. “For your sake, you better not have lied to me.”

My back relaxes against the raspy wall, fighting down a grimace as the motion irritates my rib injury. “Cross my heart, Your Highness.”

I watch him carefully, his expression turning into something much more grim. “A King is referred to as His Majesty.”

“My father was a prominent war general and my mother only wanted daughters she could use to social climb.” I fight down a grin. “I know what I said.”

His expression darkens into something bone chilling. “I am the King and you’ll refer to me as such or deal with even less pleasant circumstances.”

I fight against the urge to cower, picturing Mare’s strength in my veins. There’s weakness in everyone, and if I squint I can see the thin cracks in him. “You have everything--the crown, the power, the support of the people, and it’s still not enough. You won and you still feel like you’re competing.”

“You don’t know anything,” he seethes, practically growling.

I shouldn’t press him, but the more he reacts, the more weaknesses are revealed. “I know what it’s like to have a sibling that’s the sun, and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you’re always trapped in a shadow.”

The lighting makes his eyes look almost glazed over. “My mother will be here soon and the truth will be revealed.”

He can run from me, but not the truth. Cal has nothing, he has everything--the father that never cared for him is dead, and yet he’s still trapped. Our similarities hurt me more than my physical injuries.

Maven turns, his gaze moving off of me feels like the removal of heavy shackles. “It would do you well to not press me. You’re worth as much whole as you are broken.”

There’s the strangest hint of something more to his voice. I wonder if he’s speaking to more than just me. “You haven’t won until that voice in your head telling you that you’re not enough is silenced.”

“You’re a powerless girl who isn’t even wanted by a dying cause and couldn’t find a husband to drag her above the poverty line. You know nothing about me, and if you keep pretending I’ll slaughter you in front of your dear friend.”

He leaves without another word. I fall asleep with my back against the wall and my ribs aching.

#red queen #red queen x reader #maven #maven calore #maven calore x reader #maven calore imagine #red queen imagine #mare barrow #cal calore #bookboyfriend #book boyfriend x reader

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bluesora · 3 years

Text

celebrating mother’s day with you

tsukishima kei ; sugawara kōshi ; oikawa torū ; kita shinsuke

headcanon ; fluff ; age up ; snippets of cuteness ; parenthood ; special edition — mother’s day

note: i’m not sure if i portrayed each characterization well but i just thought it’ll be fun to write one. after all, i was blessed to be born with loving parents and i just wanted to share the love i’m grateful for.

tagging: @forgetou @amjustagirl @yacoka @haikyuutothetop @luvnami ;; thank you for dropping these characters as i couldn’t decide who to write for. (of course it was more exciting without context)

ps. it’s longer than expected i’m sorry :’)

tsukishima kei

tsukishima isn’t one who would remember special occasions unless someone had schedule a plan in advance with him. when he wondered if he should do anything for you after hearing his colleagues whispering during break, his work got busier than usual so he had forgotten about it.

that was, until he realized he had ten missed calls from his son; which was odd because he weren’t one to call him so often.

“i was in a meeting, what hap—” before tsukishima could finish his sentence, his son interrupted him, “i bought mom’s favorite cake since you’re slow. hurry home or there’s none left for you,” the line was cut right after; which of course left poor tsukishima’s partner to deal with the aftermath. “tsukishima-san, about the report—”

“it must be so urgent that it needs my immediate attention even when i’m packing up right?” his words dripped of pure sarcasm despite the polite smile hanging from his lips. everyone could literally see the panic swirling in his partner’s pupil.

“i’m sorry!! good work today and see you tomorrow!!” it’s the weekend tomorrow, but tsukishima was too hung up on his son’s attitude to shoot another of his sarcastic reply.

you, on the other hand, were neither someone who would celebrate such occasion unless it was for birthdays or holidays. therefore, you didn’t really had anything in mind nor were you expecting anything as well.

when you finally reached home from a tiring day at work, you were definitely not expecting to see your favorite cake on the table while your son popped a party popper with a party horn in his mouth right beside you.

“happy mother’s day!” he tried to mumble out with the horn still in his mouth. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected surprise, dropping your bag on the counter just so you could hug him—one that he wholeheartedly hugged you back because tsukishima wasn’t around.

it took an hour for tsukishima to be home, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand when he walked over to where you and the cheeky lad was sitting. “oh! you didn’t have to though,” you smiled in surprise.

“dad’s just guilty he forgot about our promise and didn’t want to come home empty handed.” you chuckled at that, perhaps it wasn’t entirely wrong either but you still appreciate the sentiment. it was rare for him after all.

“those who break promises don’t get desserts.” he continued to press his dad’s buttons, only to see tsukishima loosened his tie with an expression he could not understand.

“oh, but that’s on your mom to decide if i’ll get one tonight or not.” you could feel your face heating up at your husband’s words, the tone and smile that dawned on his face was a look you knew oh so well.

“tch...i thought i hid it well.” of course, your clueless son didn’t know the true meaning of those words and thought the strawberry shortcake he bought for his dad was found out.

sugawara kōshi

sugawara would definitely plan in advance with the children. especially when they were the ones who excitedly wanted to do something for you.

“mama like animals! lets go to the zoo!” the middle child exclaimed with so much enthusiasm, sugawara could only chuckle at her adorable smile.

“you only said that because you wanted to go to the zoo, dummy.” the eldest one huffed, feeling proud that he saw through her obvious tactic.

it didn’t take long for the two to start crawling over each other in a fight while the youngest one giggled amusingly as if she was watching a performance. that was, until an insult was thrown at her so she joined in the fight to prove her worth.

“if you don’t stop now, we’ll be celebrating at home like how we did the past two years.” that immediately ceased all action, since they haven’t had the chance to go out together as a whole family thanks to your busy schedule.

“how about the park? the cherry blossoms have bloomed and mama likes going to the park!” of course, sugawara was fond of this idea. it’s been a while since there was a family picnic session.

and so on that very day in which you finally managed to take a day off, you weren’t expecting to be blind folded while having your children guide you to wherever you were supposed to be.

knowing how clumsy the trio could be, he wanted to accompany them as well but was outright rejected when they said they could do it themselves with so much confidence, he wasn’t sure who they got it from.

with their tiny hands, it took a while for them to tie the piece of cloth around your eyes, and even when they did, it wasn’t tied well enough so you could actually still see your footing (which saved you immensely from all the accidental knocks along the way)

after what felt like forever, you finally reached the park where they shouted ‘happy mother’s day’ in unison. you kind of already knew it’ll be a picnic from the soft grass beneath your feet and those fallen pink petals, but you were still moved to tears when you saw your children squeezed together into your husband’s arms while cute decoration and plates of food were spread between you and them.

“mama, try the cookie first! i made them myself!” the middle one was the first to break the silence.

“no! try my sandwich first, i’m the eldest!”

“so what if you’re the eldest? mama must be thirsty from walking so have my ultimate happy berry juice!” the youngest chirped with pride, as if her logic was a straight pass to winning.

you laughed at their competitive nature, which was oh so endearing at the same time. and it was obvious if you don’t decide soon, an all out food war was going to happen.

“before that, shouldn’t mama receive papa’s present first?” sugawara’s cheerful voice interrupted their little argument, and just before the youngest could ask what it was, her eyes was covered by the eldest son along with the middle one.

you couldn’t help but hit his arm in embarrassment when his lips met yours longer than it should’ve been.

“hey! that’s not fair, i didn’t get to see papa’s present,” your middle one sulked, only to be carried into sugawara’s arms as he peck her little cheek with a wink. “why don’t you ask mama what it was, baby?”

oikawa torū

it was supposed to be a big surprise where he came home earlier than the date he had told you. he even told the kids about it and they promised to make it a success (money was definitely involved to be honest)

“make sure you delay mummy at the grocery store long enough for me to set everything up in time.” he reminded his daughter time and time again, only to have her sigh at his impatience.

“i think i’m old enough to not forget something so simple dad. and please stop addressing mom like that, it’s creepy.” she cringed, wondering how you even deal with oikawa every day.

“dad, have you even baked a cake before? do you think you can get it done within an hour or maybe two?” his son asked the third time that day, which did irk oikawa with that tone of his.

“of course i can! are you looking down on me? it’s just a simple vanilla cake and some fruits on top. how hard can it be?”

of course, with every rhetorical question that pose a challenge, there would always be an answer exactly of what’s to be expected.

you, with no idea that your husband was making a mess of your kitchen, took your own sweet time at the grocery store since your daughter was there to help and it’s been a while since you had a mother and daughter bonding time.

“do you think your dad would like to have curry tomorrow? or should we just have hamburger steak?” you asked, still unsure of the menu for a celebratory dinner.

“i think he would like anything you cook, so don’t worry about it. dad’s always so happy to eat your homemade meals.” she answered with shrug, but you could tell she was happy to rely the same sentiment.

everything went smoothly and she did managed to stall your time with her longer than the agreed duration. that was, until she received a text from her brother saying dad’s cake was a failure and they should just get one outside; you two were already at the apartment lift when she read it.

“dad, i think you should just give up. they are already walking over from the—” oikawa having enough of his son’s constant nagging about how he should’ve just bought a cake instead, threw a whiff of flour to his son’s face without thinking.

and of course, which kid would not retaliate from that. the kitchen, which originally wasn’t as messy, turned into chaos of white fluff and sticky childish banter between the two.

you, not expecting to see your husband, was clearly surprise when you heard his voice by the door. the only excitement that came from that vanished the moment your eyes fell onto the state of your kitchen.

“happy mother’s day?” oikawa managed to choke out when he felt your growing presence with each step towards him.

“i’m sorry mom, it was my fault please don’t kill dad—” your son pleaded softly by the side, only to fell speechless when you threw yourself into oikawa’s arms instead.

“welcome home,” you greeted with so much warmth, oikawa couldn’t help but embraced you tightly as he replied, “i’m home.”

“mom? you’re not mad?” your daughter asked in disbelief when she brought the groceries – including the ones you dropped – over to the kitchen.

“mad? why would i be when you dad’s sleeping in the kitchen tonight.” you were so serious and certain, the two broke into fits of laughter as they ran from their father (which was fertile because they got caught immediately and was tickled to tears)

“why are you laughing when you two are having a sleepover with daddy tonight.”

“please dad, just stop.”

kita shinsuke

there was no surprises because kita’s way of celebrating was just regular activities but doing it together. which was honestly, what you love to do most since you don’t always get the chance of spending weekdays with your family often.

from preparing meals to visiting town, usually it would be done by kita himself. however, this time because of the special occasion, you took time off to accompany your husband while bringing your little ones along with you.

“mama here’s the carrot,” your little girl placed the orange vegetable on the chopping board before humming a tune while the other twin helped kita with picking the ends of the beansprouts.

“papa are we going to town later?” she beamed excitedly, hands still working on the tiny vegetable while her legs swung to the rhythm of her twin sister’s melody.

“yes, we are. do you have a place you want to visit?” he was done with his side so he continued onto the pile his daughter was removing.

“yes! we want to go to onigiri miya!” they both said at the same time, giggling right after when their father looked surprise.

“all right, let’s go after our lunch.” and everything went along smoothly with the little twins setting the table together while you and kita took turns to cook up the dishes. lunch was pleasant despite minimal words being exchanged since the twins were taught to not talk with their mouth full (and their mouth are always stuffed full)

while you and kita held hands with the twins walking hand in hand by themselves in front, the feeling of nostalgia seemed to tickle your bones at the memory of how you used to take long strolls with kita during your younger days.

“what’s wrong?” kita tugged your hand gently which snapped you back to reality when you realized you all have reached the store.

“nothing...i’m just grateful to be your wife and mother of two beautiful angels.” your smile had him press a fluttering kiss to your temple as he softly replied, “me too.”

“i see yer two are still as lovey-dovey as ever captain.” atsumu popped his head out from the entrance, both twins sitting comfortably on his arms as he carried them as if they were feathers.

“i’m not your captain anymore atsumu, but i see they both seemed to like you.” kita smiled at his two lovely dolls, one that atsumu have never seen much of because of his busy schedule.

“of course, who do you think i am? the better—” but before atsumu could even finish his flex, the two snapped their head over at the appearance of osamu in his apron. their hands immediately reaching out for the man to hug.

“uncle osamu!!” they squealed happily, trying their best to squirm out of atsumu’s grip.

“i guess not huh ‘tsumu,” osamu smirked at the annoyed twin, patting his hands dry before prying the little twins from his brother’s vice grip. of course, they both would fight over the kid’s affection. who wouldn’t right?

you watched the pair of twins in amusement with your head against kita’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your delicate frame. this too will be yet another moment kita would not forget, for he felt blissful to be their father and your husband.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #hq x reader #hq headcanons #tsukishima kei #sugawara koshi #oikawa toru #kita shinsuke #tsukishima x reader #sugawara x reader #oikawa x reader #kita x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #tsukishima hcs #sugawara hcs #oikawa hcs #kita hcs

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lipstickstainz · 3 years

Text

true lies - s. r. (6/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: A glimpse of your past - and an honest conversation.

Warnings: a little fluff, Spencer talking about his time in prison (spoilers), a lot of angst

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: please don’t hate me. gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

"This is the best birthday present I've ever gotten”, Spencer grins as you walk together through Griffith Observatory. It's already evening, but it doesn't feel like you've been here all day. Around every corner there is something different to discover, exhibits to see, new things to learn, and Spencer is almost like a child, so excited is he. He can't keep still and when you stop at an exhibit, he trips from one foot to the other.

"I'm glad you like it here”, you smile as you sit down at a table at the Café at the End of the Universe. You're glad he's enjoying the trip, even though you had to fly here for it. Los Angeles isn't exactly close to D.C., but you wanted to give him something he liked that you could experience together, and a visit to Griffith Observatory seemed fitting.

The view you have from your seat is breathtaking. Los Angeles is at your feet. It's a beautiful view for a beautiful day and you're glad you're here with Spencer. "What did you like best?"

He doesn't even have to think hard before he has an answer. "The Once and Future Griffith Observatory”, he grins, and you roll your eyes.

"But that's only because Leonard Nimoy narrates." You have to grin, too. Spencer is a little transparent, which makes him incredibly endearing.

For a few minutes, you sit together in silence, enjoying the last rays of sunlight on your skin. The silence between you is anything but awkward. Ever since the beginning of your friendship, you've been able to sit together without exchanging a word, enjoying the moment without it getting weird. And although the dynamic between you has changed a bit and you've grown closer lately, it hasn't changed.

"I know you're not into all that stuff”, he interrupts the silence at one point, and you avert your gaze from Los Angeles to look at him. He runs his hand through his hair so that it falls slightly into his forehead, and the reddish glow cast on him by the last rays of the sun makes him look so incredibly handsome that you have to swallow. "Did you like it, too?"

You nod vigorously. "I don't know much about it, but you showed me that the science of the stars can be fun even if you don't look completely behind it." You want to reach across the table and take his hand, but you don't dare. "And I think it's nice to be here with you."

You can't pinpoint exactly when your friendship changed. Since you started working at BAU, you had hit it off and become fast best friends, and you value his friendship very much. But lately you see him in a different light and you can sense that he feels the same, but neither dares to make the first move. Two idiots who have a crush on each other and don't want to admit it.

A few moments later, the sun disappears behind the horizon and Spencer gets up from his chair. "Come on, we have one more thing to do." Carefully, he pulls you from your seat and before you know where he's going, you're there. Even though it's Saturday night, there aren't many people at the observatory, so you can stand in front of a large telescope without waiting in line. "We've heard so much about the universe today, but I want to see the stars with you before we go."

You hesitate, but Spencer tells you to look first, so you take a peek through the telescope. Except for the bright stars, the view is pitch black and deep. A cluster of stars looks very familiar. "What constellation is that, Spence?", you ask, making room for him to take a look himself.

"That's the little bear”, he replies, letting you back up to the telescope so he can explain further and you can look at the stars. "In Greek mythology, the little bear is actually a son of Zeus and a nymph. Or rather, Zeus turned the child into a bear so that the bear wouldn't attack his mother, the nymph, who also became a bear." You look at Spencer. "And then Zeus hurled them both into the sky. Pretty unrealistic."

"I think it's very realistic for a Greek god to turn a mother and child into bears and then stick them in the sky as stars”, you grin, and he gives a short laugh. "Thank you for knowing such things. I find it interesting when you explain things." You smile at him and glance up at the starry sky again. "Do you want to look through here again? The view is phenomenal and breathtakingly beautiful."

"It is indeed”, Spencer replies without taking his eyes off you.

The look he gives you now is one of sadness and pain. You don't see it, but you feel it in your back as you make you both a cup of coffee each. As you turn and place the cup on the kitchen table in front of him, he averts his eyes.

The silence between you is unbearable and only then do you really realize how much everything has changed. How much you have changed. Sitting together in your kitchen in the middle of the night feels as forced as it actually is, but neither of you is ready to get started. For as confusing as the last time has been for you, you know full well that this conversation will either raise more questions than it clears up, or it will be goodbye. And you're not ready for the latter.

You put your hands around the warm cup and realize how cold you are, even though the heating is turned up. Goosebumps come over you and you try to shake the cold shiver off your back as inconspicuously as you can, but the small movement doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer. He looks at you, and as you meet his gaze, he no longer seems sad or pained. Spencer looks lost, and there's nothing you can do to get him out of it.

"What have you been up to for the last year?", he asks you quietly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I've been here and there. Been working a lot”, you answer, and it's probably the only truth you can tell in the conversation. For the past year, you've really been working, around the clock, but you can't explain to him what exactly you've been doing. And you're also glad he's not asking.

"So you're a professor in between now?", you ask at one point, and he nods mutely.

"Yes, I have to take thirty days off for one hundred days that I work, and I'm teaching during that time."

"Do you enjoy it?", you ask, even though you know the answer. Spencer has always loved teaching other people and sharing his knowledge, which is why you've always secretly thought he'd enjoy teaching.

"Well, a lot of the students just come to listen, which is kind of a shame because the topics are really interesting. Luke said they just come to gawk at me, but I don't think so."

"You're the only professor who talks about crime and everything, but who's also been to prison. I can well imagine that a lot of young women find that very hot." You smile at him and he weakly returns it. When he doesn't respond to that, you keep talking. "I probably have no right to ask about it, but I'd like to know what you've experienced in prison." You take a sip of your coffee. "I can tell it's changed you a lot."

His fingers tighten a little around the cup as he answers. "Prison isn't the only thing that's changed me." To others, his comment would have certainly come off wrong, resentful and bitchy, but not to you. Spencer is simply telling the truth, and that's what the conversation is supposed to be about. You're supposed to be honest with each other, at least within a certain framework that allows you to be as honest as you can. "It really wasn't easy. I became friends with a former FBI agent - Calvin Shaw. He gave me tips on how to survive in prison. Which didn't help much. I tried to help a friend, his name was Luis, by telling a guard that he kept getting beat up by a certain gang, after which they almost killed me." It comes so easily to his lips, but his posture shows that this has not passed him by without a trace. His shoulders are tense and you fear the cup will break, he's clutching it so tightly. "I was supposed to help smuggle drugs in, but I refused, whereupon they beat me up in the laundry room and slit Luis' throat in front of me." He pauses for a moment, as if he needs to sort out his thoughts, and takes a deep breath.

"I wanted revenge, so I poisoned the drugs, hoping it would kill them. But they were just the distributors. Five people got poisoned by it, including Shaw." You can hear he's not proud of that, and your stomach tightens. His hands shake, which is why he lets go of the cup and folds them in his lap. "The jail got into lockdown, but Tara did a cognitive interview with me that didn't do much good. My trial was delayed, and I was really afraid I was going to die in jail. When Shaw and the others were released from the infirmary, Shaw got back at me. He knew I was responsible for the tainted drugs, and he tipped off the others that I was FBI. He said to me I wouldn't see it coming, but they didn't want to put me in solitary either. So I whittled down a knife and took Shaw's hand and stabbed myself to make it look like he did it."

Your gaze moves from his face to his legs, and there you see it. A small scar that you certainly wouldn't notice if you didn't know it was there. Tears well up in your eyes. Not even for a brief moment, did you doubt your decision to leave then, but now you wish you had stayed with him then. You would have helped him, stood by his side. You blink away a tear before it can run down your cheek. "And then?"

"Then at some point I was discharged. The team did everything they could to get me out of that hellhole, and for that I'm very grateful. Otherwise, I would have been murdered in there for sure." He shifts the cup of coffee from one hand to the other. "Look, I don't want you to disappear again. I really don't, but this can't go on like this either. We can't seem to stay away from each other, but we're just arguing and it's not doing either of us any good."

You have a few more questions about his time in prison, but you keep them to yourself.It's clear from him that the subject is closed for him, and you don't want to force it on him. So you just nod. You wouldn't leave Spencer again for any amount of money. It nearly killed you the first time, and for sure you wouldn't survive it a second time. "What do you suggest?"

He purses his lips into a thin line and starts to tap his foot. "I don't know if I can forgive you for leaving then. It was too painful for that. But I think that maybe, somehow, we can get along. We might even become friends again."

"I'm sorry I left then, Spencer. And I don't expect you to forgive me, I have no right to, because after all, I'm the only one responsible for this situation here”, you confess, running your hand through your hair. A nervous gesture that you seem to have picked up from him. "I'm very grateful to you for not wanting me to leave, even though I've caused you so much pain. I don't know what I've done to deserve this, but I'll do everything I can so that we can live together to some extent. And I hope that someday we can be friends again."

A smile spreads across his face. "Thank you for being honest with me, Y/N. I think this conversation is good for both of us. And it was pretty overdue, don't you think?"

You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "Pretty much." You take the last sip of coffee before rinsing off both cups and putting them back on the top shelf. Your shirt slides up a little, exposing the tattoo on your ribcage.

"You have a tattoo?", asks Spencer as you sit back down. "What did you get?"

You hesitate. "Nothing in particular. Just a saying I picked up a while back."

To this, Spencer doesn't reply, and silence returns. Only this time, it's not as stifling as it was at the beginning of your conversation.

"I should go”, Spencer says eventually, and stands up. He puts on the rest of his clothes and you accompany him to the door. Indecisively, you stand in front of each other. How do you say goodbye to someone you love?

"I'd like to kiss you”, Spencer confesses, and your heart skips a beat. "But that wouldn't be good. For us." He spreads his arms and you fall against him for a moment, hearing his heartbeat one last time before he pulls away from you and smiles weakly at you.

Sometimes you don't even notice a goodbye right away. It happens quietly, creeping, slowly, more painful than a quick goodbye. It goes to your bones, tears at your heart, blinds you. You can't look at Spencer as he speaks, because you know that the goodbye you were afraid of is here now.The glimmer of hope you've carried with you for an entire year is quietly extinguished, the embers cease to glow and the smoke clouds your senses. For a year, you held on to the fact that you would eventually find each other again. You prayed, hoped, and pleaded for it. The thought gave you comfort as you lay alone in your bed wondering how he was doing and what he was doing. And now it's over. Standing in front of you is Spencer. Spencer, who was in prison. Spencer, who's been through so much. Spencer, who might be your friend again someday.

"Someday you're going to make someone very happy”, you whisper, hoping he doesn't notice how your voice breaks.The pain spreading through you is too intense, and you wrap your arms around your body, afraid to crumble. But you really wish this for him. You want him to be happy, to find someone he can love as unconditionally as you love him. Someone he can trust blindly. Someone who will not leave him.

Spencer smiles at you and opens the door, but before he leaves, he turns to you one last time. "I have one last question." You look at him and wipe the back of your hand under your nose. "You said it's hard to leave someone you love." He gives you one last look. "Did you leave me because you didn't love me anymore? Or did it have another reason?"

Inside you are screaming at him that you could never stop loving him. That everything you did was for him. That you almost died when you left him and turned your back on everyone. But you can't say it out loud. It was part of the deal. A deal that not even Emily knows every detail of. As you answer him, you die again inside. "I didn't love you anymore, Spencer. I'm sorry."

You'd love to never leave your apartment again, but that's not an option. You'd like to call in sick, but that would be a bad start to a someday-friendship, and you don't want Spencer to realize how much this goodbye has destroyed you. You suffer silently, not even telling Emily about your conversation, but trying to let others notice as little as possible how you're really feeling. Work distracts you, and that's a good thing.

When you're alone, it's harder. The pain is unbearable. Loving someone, and losing that person, is the worst pain you could have ever imagined. Your nights are plagued by nightmares, your days are filled with distractions. You try to somehow come to terms with the fact that Spencer would never be yours again, but you had hoped for too long that one day you would find each other again. But that wasn't going to happen. Spencer left. And it's your fault.

After a while, you stop waking up screaming in the middle of the night. You haven't gotten used to the pain, but it's a constant companion now, almost a friend, and you don't try to block it out anymore. You are no longer afraid of the nightmares, because even when you wake up, they are real. You find that you can neither escape nor resist, and so you accept your fate and withdraw so deeply into yourself that you lose yourself.

The emptiness in your head spreads throughout your body and the biggest hole is your heart.

next part

- tags -

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jungwonseyebrowsonflick · 3 years

Note

jake x fem reader cuddling !!! (fluff 🥺)

Here is it! I hope you like it! I really tried my best! 😅💜❤️💜@bloodsweat-bangtan

Warning: FULL OF FLUFF💖 but mention of " I'll die if you leave me"

====================================

A yawned escaped from your mouth, waiting for class to end. It's been a long day for you with neverending tests. Can't wait for the time to rest....but wait! Don't you have an anniversary to attend? You widen your eyes and stood up from your desk.

" that's all for today class! " The teacher said with a smile. Everyone got up form their seats and prepared their backpacks to leave. You already had your stuff packed quickly so you were one of the first students to leave the classroom.

"BOOO!" A dark brown hair boy said as he jumped in front of you to scare you with opened fingers ready to tickle you.

" Ahh! Jake! You scared me!" You said touching your chest where your heart was beating fast. You slightly hit Jake on the shoulder gaining a giggle from him. "I'm sorry my precious baby..." He said with his Australian accent. One of the reasons why you felt so attracted to this boy.

Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pull you into a warm embrace as he pinched one of your cheeks with his other free hand and forced an innocent kiss on your lips.

" Not-in school Jake! You know I'm shy!" You complained trying to pull away from him but he grabbed your wrist and pull you back to him, once again force you another innocent kiss just to tease you. "Sim Jake!" You said not controlling your loud giggles.

" Jake! Hyung!" Suddenly a short brown hair boy yelled from behind you two with his unzipped backpack and his shoe laces untied.

He stopped next to you and saw the way Jake was giving you all his love and attention. The young boy wiggled his eyes at you two as he nudge his elbow against your arm. " OoOoOo~" he teased making a whole scene.

" Riki! Stop that! And tie your shoe laces!" You scolded him sounding like a mother. That's how your friendship with the young boy was: a relationship of mother and son.............and Jake the father.

"I do it later, Jake are we going to play soccer with Heeseung today?..." Jake asked with a hopeful smile and look.

" Tomorrow little bro, tonight I'll spend time with my pretty girlfriend" Jake said as he peck your chubby cheek.

" Tch! You prefer to spend time with your boring girlfriend than with us, your super cool and fun friends?" Riki asked in disbelief with a fake disgusted face just to tease the heck out of you.

" Hey Niki-san! Careful on what you're going to say in front of my girl!" Jake defended you as he walked in front of you as if to protect you. How proud you felt to see him behave so protective towards you.

" Ok ok I'm sorry" Riki laughed. " Then tomorrow is it, see you later Y/n!" Riki waved as he ran off ahead of them.

Jake locked his fingers on to yours holding your hand. " I have little surprise for our second year anniversary...." He said quietly against your ear. You widen your eyes in shock. " I thought you forgot since you didn't mention it in the morning?" You asked covering your mouth.

" Nop..... you'll see tonight" he said softly kissing on top of your hand he was holding.

°°°

" Don't worry you won't fall! I'm right behind you" Jake chuckled as he stand behind you, covering your eyes. He was taking you to the place where the surprise was. " Ok we're here.....now open your eyes" he whispered to your ear as he lets go of you.

You slowly opened your eyes. You saw the beautiful scenery in front of you. It was like you were looking at a work of art. A small round table with delicious good smelling food, wine, a red rose and a happy candle sitting right in the middle of the table waiting to be a company by two beautiful strangers. The grass was cut short and it's green color was eye-catching. Large wide trees standing around the park like bodyguards protecting the work of art. It's orange, yellow, and brown leaves swinging around with the lightly wind🍃. Then there was the most beautiful view to see.....a river. You loved how the moon reflected itself on the blue deep water. You loved the way the moon shone on you two brightening the romantic mood even better. Let's not forget about the neon lights of the buildings and skyscrapers behind the river making it look almost like the universe.

" Jake ...." You let out breathlessly, a tiny tear leaving from one eye. " This is ..... beautiful....oh my god Jake! This is amazing!" You squeal and jumped on him, wrapping your hands around his neck, your legs around his torso, lips pecking all over his face. " Jake! This is beautiful! You did this all by yourself?" You asked.

Jake chuckled and nodded quickly. " Yes love, I did it all by myself" Jake....lied...well kind of. To be honest he did this with the help of two romantic freaks: Jay and Sunoo. Now don't get him wrong, Jake really is romantic, he actually came up with all this places for a special date, while the other two helped with some of the settings.

Either way the three did a good job and now we have a happy Y/n crying because of this beautiful masterpiece. " Oh my god!..Gosh!...Girl get off and let's eat!" Jake yelled as he couldn't handle so many of your soft kisses on his handsome face. Giving him one last kiss on his lips you let him go and run towards a chair.

Jake sat next to you. As the gentleman he is he served you food and a glass of the finest wine. "Heaur, what ma queen desarves....." He said exaggerating his Australian accent. You laughed at his silliness and lightly hit him on his shoulder. " Shut up Jake! You're making me cringe!" You still kept laughing inside while sipping your fine wine.

°°°

" Babe, Thank you for this, the food was delicious, the wine was delicious, the desert in front of me was delicious-"

" There wasn't any deserve-"

" You, babe, You are the dessert!" You exclaimed as you pull Jake down to the ground were you two were just sitting a second ago. You two laid on the grass watching the white moon slowly decreasing. Jake turn to look at your pretty side profile and admire it.

'I'm really dating the prettiest girl on this planet....' he thought to himself. You felt his intense gaze looking at you which made you look back at him as well. As you did he immediately looked towards the moon and pretend as if he never wasn't looking at you.

" Jake, stop! Oh my god Jake" you laughed as you fake punch his arm and side. Jake just flinched and squeak as you tried to. He tried his best to not let you tackle him like that but ended up failing. However, after five minutes he took power over you and had you stuck against him. Your back against his hard chest and stomach, his arms wrapped around together with your arms around your stomach. His breath hitting the tiny hairs of your neck and shoulder.

" I love you,......I love you....Y/n...." He whispered in your ear. You chuckled and smiled at the moon.

" I love you too baby, you're the best thing that ever happened to me, after going through a lot in the past, you've been there for me.....that's why I love you so so much and I swear! Listen to me?....I swear I'll kill myself if you ever leave me Jakey...." You suddenly said with a worry look as you immediately turn around to cuddle him completely; your tiny arms wrapped around his torso, your legs tangle up with his strong soccer player legs. You buried your head against his warm chest and smelled the autumn leaves smell of his cologne.

The thought of Jake Sim leaving you for whatever reason really scares you and you don't want it to become reality.

" Hey! Shhhhh! Don't say that....." He whispered and scolded you. He furrowed his eyebrows down clearly not liking what you just said.

" Babe, look at me.....babe?.....look.....and hear me clearly......I won't leave you....ever.....heard that?....ever princess....you also been there when i needed someone as well....my princess you're my everything......" He kissed your forehead and stay there longer until he pulled away and cuddle you harder against him.

Jake stare at the beautiful moon that brightened the romantic night. He smiled at it and look down to look at you. He patted your hair and closed his eyes still smiling dreamingly.

❤️

💜

❤️

Thank you for reading 🤎

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 3 years

Text

Unfaithful | Final Chapter

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2718

Warnings: all the angst with a side order of fluff, FINAL CHAPTER

A/N: this is it, the series finale. I really hope you guys enjoyed the series and that this ending does it justice. Thank you for the lovely comments on previous chapters, I love you guys! Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Five | Masterlist

- - - - -

“We need to talk”

“I think you said enough yesterday” I say dismissively as I stand up.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

“But you did!”

“I know this is no excuse but I was really drunk”

“You're right, that isn’t an excuse. What you said to me really hurt”

“I know and I am so so sorry. I think I thought that if I could make you hate me then it would be easier for me to not love you.”

I pause, trying to make sense of what he’s just said.

“That’s stupid”

“I realise that now, but at the time my alcohol infused brain thought it was genius.” He says and I can't help but be slightly amused “Look Y/N, I need you to know I didn’t mean any of what I said yesterday. And I really hope you don't hate me, though I don't blame you if you do”

“I don’t hate you” I take his hands in mine and look deep in his eyes “I could never hate you, you mean too much to me now. I couldn’t have got through the past few weeks without you, so you're not getting rid of me that easy”

I give him a gentle but sincere smile and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“It didn’t work anyway” he says and I respond with a confused look “My genius plan failed… I still love you”

Before I can say anything else Eva appears at the door.

“There you are!” She calls and I quickly release the priest’s hands as I turn to look at her. She looks from me, to the priest and back to me “everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. This is the priest who’s doing the wedding.”

“Oh uh, actually… I’m not anymore” he says, suddenly awkward again.

“Can you give us a minute?” I say to Eva and she nods before disappearing back inside the house. I turn my attention back to the worried looking priest “What do you mean?”

“I can’t be there today”

“Are you serious? We need you!”

“I know it’s unprofessional to pull out this late but so is kissing the bride behind the groom’s back, so…” he lets out a small nervous chuckle “I’ve arranged cover already. Father Crilly. He’s a good priest, he’ll make sure it all runs smooth”

“You're a good priest! You can make sure it runs smooth!”

“I can’t” he says, looking down at his feet

“Of course you can”

“No I can’t!” He snaps, looking back up at me. I notice tears starting to form in his eyes. “I can’t because I want it to go wrong. I want there to be a reason for this wedding not to happen, for you not to marry him… instead of me”

My breath catches in my throat as I look at him, not knowing how to respond.

“Father…” I almost whisper “I- I don't know what to say”

“You don't have to say anything”

“You know how much mean to me-”

“Please don’t” he interrupts but I carry on

“-but I can’t leave Daniel. I’m sorry”

“I can’t pretend to understand why you would marry a man who treats you the way he has, but if you love him even half as much as I love you… then I respect your decision. I’m not going to get in your way.”

He turns to leave but I grab his arm gently stopping him.

“Are you gonna be alright?” I ask and he gives me a small nod

“It’ll pass”

I watch as he walks out my driveway and disappears down the road, taking deep steadying breaths before putting a smile on my face and heading inside to get ready.

After all, today is to be the happiest day of my life. Right?

— — — —

So far the rest of the day has run smooth. I explained to Eva and the rest of the bridesmaids that the priest had to pull out last minute, making up some excuse about a family emergency, but that he’d arranged cover so there was nothing to stress about. Eva, as my substitute maid of honour, took on the job of alerting Daniel to the last minute change so there would be no confusion when he turned up at the church and found Father Crilly waiting for him.

A few hours later I descended the stairs in my beautiful white dress to the sound of the girls showering me with compliments and my aunt Lynda sniffling into a hankie.

“You look like a princess” she says, pulling me into a slightly too tight hug.

It wasn’t long till the cars arrived and we were on our way. The bridesmaids pilled into one while me and Aunt Lynda got into the other. Lynda rambled on about something but I couldn't really hear her. Too busy staring silently out of the window. The closer we get to the church, the more I can feel the panic rising in my chest.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” She asks as she squeezes my hand gently, pulling my mind back into the car.

“Yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” I reply as convincingly as possible.

“It’s okay to be nervous. Hell, I was more nervous the second time than I was for my first”

“I didn’t know you were married before uncle Steve?”

“Yeah! It was long before you were born. We were school sweethearts. Like you and Daniel, only less in love. We thought we were in love but looking back now I realise we were too young to really know what that meant. Your dad tried to warn me. Said Troy and I were better off as friends, but we didn’t listen. He was great for relationship advice was your dad, bit of a self proclaimed love expert.” She pauses, going watery eyed again “I’m sorry he’s not here”

“Me too”

“I’m sure wherever he is, he’ll be watching over you today. Your mother too. They’d both be so proud” she squeezes my hand again and smiles tearfully.

“Don't make me cry. If I ruin my makeup Eva will kill me” I laugh, wiping under my eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She says, handing me a tissue “no more crying, this is a happy day!”

— — — —

By the time we arrived at the church the bridesmaids were waiting outside with the photographer and the new priest. The photographer camera flashed at me as Lynda helped me out of the car and lead me to the church. Looking up at those wooden doors, I was glad I had Lynda to cling onto. My legs felt like jelly.

Father Crilly introduced himself to me before heading inside the church. The bridesmaids, Lynda and I waited outside until we heard the music start, signalling the beginning of the ceremony. The bridesmaids began their walk up the aisle and before long the music changed again to the bridal chorus.

“Here we go”

We walk into the church, stopping just inside the doors. I glance up to the front of the church to see Daniel looking back at me, a smile spread across his face. A smile I can’t make myself return. Instead I keep my eyes down, focusing on the floor as we walk up aisle. I can feel every set of eyes on me, but I keep mine fixed on my feet that carry me closer and closer to my future.

We reach the top and Lynda gives me a kiss on the cheek before going to join the bridesmaids on the front row. Daniel takes my hand in his, whispering “you look amazing” into my ear as Father Crilly begins the ceremony.

His opening speech goes by in a blur. I try to listen to every word he’s saying, to keep myself planted in the real world but my mind is spinning and my heart is pounding. I can’t stop thinking about what Lynda said in the car. What if Daniel and I aren’t in love? We just think we are because we’ve been together so long. We’re just used to being with each other.

I also can’t get the priest out of my head. Worrying about him. Wondering what he’s doing now, whether he’s thinking about me. I replay our last conversation in my head.

‘I still love you’

‘I want there to be a reason for this wedding not to happen, for you not to marry him… instead of me’

I try to push his words from my mind, focusing instead on his final ones.

‘It’ll pass’

But what if it doesn’t.

“If any person present knows of any lawful reason why this marriage can’t take place they should speak now or forever hold their peace” Father Crilly pauses.

A tense silence fills the room.

I look out across the crowd of friends and family sitting silently in their seats, a small part of me hoping the priest will burst through the doors dramatically declaring his love for me as he sweeps me away to live happily ever after.

I shake the fantasy from my mind and turn my attention back to the man I’m actually about to marry. Daniel is also looking out at the church crowd. He looks nervous. I give his hand a gentle squeeze and he looks at me.

“Are you okay?” I whisper and he nods, but I can tell he’s not. As he looks away from me again my mind starts to spiral, panic rising in my chest. I can’t do this.

‘It’ll pass’

I think I’m making a mistake.

‘It’ll pass’

These feelings are too intense to ignore.

‘It’ll pass’

These feelings of love. Not for Daniel. For the priest. I don't want them to pass.

“I object” I say quietly, staring down at my hand enclosed within Daniel’s. I can feel his gaze on my face as a wave of gasps and shocked murmuring works its way through the church.

“What?” He says, a nervous laugh escapes his lips but the smile fades as my sad eyes lock onto his.

“I object”

“To- to your own wedding…?” Father Crilly asks, voice full of confusion.

“I can’t do it. I can’t start a marriage with a lie.”

“Y/N? What are you talking about?” Daniel asks, gripping my hands tightly in his own, afraid to let go.

“When you marry someone, there shouldn’t be any secrets. You have to be able to confess anything, trust them with everything… I need to be honest with you.” I pause, building up the courage to say what I need to say next. “Daniel I-”

“I cheated on you” he blurts out, earning another gasp from the crowd

“…what?”

“I’ve been having an affair…” Daniel repeats “Tiff and I… we, uh-”

“Tiffany? My best friend Tiffany?” I ask and he nods “How long?”

“Maybe we should continue this somewhere else” Father Crilly tries to move us but I ignore him.

“How long Daniel? How long have you been sleeping with my best friend behind my back?”

“A few months I think”

“You think? What, you don't even remember?” I bring my hands up to my head, rubbing circles on my temples as I turn my back on Daniel and take deep breaths.

“Y/N, please listen to me. I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you-” he puts his hands on my shoulders but I shrug him off.

“You say that a lot for someone who has repeatedly hurt me. Emotionally…” I turn back to face him “physically. And every time I make excuses for you, brush off the insults, hide the bruises because I thought I was in love with you. But I’m not. I don't love you. I haven’t loved you for a long time. I was just too scared to leave you. But I'm not scared anymore”

“I really think we should talk this through somewhere private” Father Crilly tries again but I shake my head.

“I’m done.” I take Daniel’s hand and look him straight in the eye “Thank you for finally setting me free”

I remove my engagement ring and place it in his hand before turning and walking back down the aisle to exit the church. Daniel runs after me, stopping me once we’re outside.

“Y/N! Please just let me explain-”

“Did you ever stop to think how I would feel?” I spin around, taking him by surprise “When you were with her, did you consider me at all?” I pause, giving him the chance to respond but he doesn’t “See that’s the difference between you and me. All I ever do, all I’ve ever done, is think about you and how you’d react. A few days ago I kissed someone-”

“What?! Who?!” He yells, anger creeping onto his face

“Don't you dare get angry with me after what you’ve done!” I respond and he takes a deep breath “I could’ve done more. I had the opportunity to sleep with him. But I didn’t. Because I kept thinking about you, about how you would feel. And what you would do to me if you ever found out”

“I love you”

“No you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t have slept with my best friend. You don't love me, and that’s fine. I don't love you either, cause if I truly did then I wouldn’t have kissed the priest. I think we both just convinced ourselves we were in love because everyone else thought we were this fairytale love story. But maybe we were better off as friends.”

“Maybe” he says quietly, deep in thought “I’m really sorry, about everything. I treated you…terribly”

Hearing a sincere, genuine apology from him, I finally feel at peace with it all.

“It doesn’t matter now” I say, giving him a small smile “do you love Tiffany?”

He thinks for a moment before gently nodding his head.

“I think so, yeah”

“You should tell her” I say, gesturing behind him as Tiffany comes running towards us.

“Eva texted me.” She says breathlessly “Y/N, I am so sorry I should have-”

I cut her off by pulling her into a hug.

“It’s okay” I say, releasing her and she looks at me in shock as I hand her my bridal bouquet “I hope you two are happy together. Really I mean that”

I turn and walk away.

“Where are you going?” Tiff calls after me.

“To get my happy ending”

— — — —

“Y/N?!”

The priest looks at me confused as he answers his front door.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“You lied to me” I say deadpan “you said Father Crilly would make sure it all ran smooth. But it didn’t. Something went very very wrong during the ceremony.”

“What happened?” He looks genuinely concerned

“Well a few things. The bride objected, and then the groom confessed to cheating with the former maid of honour. Then the bride confessed to kissing the former priest and they both confessed to not loving each other.”

He stands looking at me for a few moments, taking it all in.

“Wow” he finally says “so not smooth then?”

“No” I burst out laughing and the priest joins in before turning serious again.

“Are you okay?” He asks, searching my face.

“Yeah” I say after a moment, “more than okay, I’m great. I feel like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders”

“That’s good”

There’s a comfortable silence before I speak again.

“You know, during the ceremony I kept hearing you in my head. Saying ‘It’ll pass’. And I realised something”

“What?”

“I don't ever want this feeling to pass. This feeling I get when I think of you, when I’m with you.” I pause to take a breath “I love you”

“I love you too Y/N”

I smile.

“So what happens now?”

He takes a step toward me, closing the gap as he brings his hands up to my face and crashes his lips to mine.

— — — —

I started this story by saying every girl dreams of her perfect wedding day.

Well mine ended up being far from perfect.

But as I lay here wrapped in the priest’s arms, for the first time in a long time I’m happy. I’m free.

And I’m in love.

#fleabag #hot priest #fleabag priest #Andrew scott #fleabag fic #hot priest x reader #Andrew Scott x reader #Andrew Scott priest #moriarty #hot priest imagine #hot priest fic #fleabag imagine #fleabag x reader #Andrew Scott imagine #Andrew Scott fic #fleabag hot priest

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twistedmusings · 3 years

Text

Vil Schoenheit: After VDC Results

“I’m going to ask again, Prefect.”

“Are you going to walk me out?”

A/N: Only thing I learned from this Chapter is to not trust a Stan kids, because they will ruin the even for the rest of us.

Needless to say I have now officially began to simp for Vil, happy to find myself among you, Vil stans.

If you haven’t read part one, here it is!

Warnings: Chapter 5 spoilers, Lime soda (implied sexy times!) and de-stressing makeout session for Vil.

Vil had almost tried to kill someone today.

It seemed strange to say, since it was somebody’s life at stake, but he had come to terms that he had shown everybody in his team a side of himself he hoped they would never see.

He had shown you a side of himself he hoped you would never see.

After the ‘incident’, you two had barely talked. You weren’t necessarily avoiding him and he wasn’t avoiding you either. There were just a few moments before the VDC officially started and despite the pain in his body telling him to at least sit down, the need to make it to the end of the stage triumphed as he gave it his all out there.

Blood, sweat and tears. He had shed them all with no regrets.

So as he stood there, confetti raining down as the people cheered in the grand coliseum for Neige’s song and not his, he was slowly coming to terms with another realization.

That he wouldn’t let Rook participate in anything he ever did again…ever.

Two years. Two YEARS he had known this mysterious man and yet there was NOTHING that had tipped him off to Rook being a fan of Neige. Oh no, not just a fan.

An extremely devoted fan.

“...Roi de Neige...it really is such an honor!”

Neige’s laugh was still like metal against a chalkboard to Vil’s ears, smiling as he held Rook’s hand as the other waxed poetic about his performance. He had to turn away, tears still pricking at the corners of his eyes as he wiped them away with Rook’s handkerchief. His life was just one ironic twist after another, wasn’t it? And how frustrating, to be so close to standing first and to be betrayed by someone who he thought he could trust--!

“Stand proud and say that you are the fairest of them all, Vil! And I am sure that even the Magic Mirror wouldn’t be able to deny it!”

He chuckles as the fanfare continues, looking down at the offending piece of cloth before shaking his head and going over to his friend, handing him back the handkerchief.

“Go on, wipe your tears. It is your handkerchief after all.”

Rook’s surprised face was a sight for sore eyes as he dried his tears. “Thank you, Roi de Poison.”

“Hehe~ There is Vi-kun’s usual smile~!”

Enjoy it while it lasts, bastard. The moment we get back to Pomefiore you are going to regret not drinking that juice and melting from the inside out because I am going to make you WISH that you were nothing but a puddle of boiling goop after I am done with you, you son of a bit--

“Vil-senpai!”

His head turns around slowly, watching you run towards the stage before flashing your staff pass at the bodyguards trying to stop you, just like how he taught you. He clears his throat as he straightens himself out, turning his whole body towards you as the stadium quiets down around him.

Or maybe he was just paying attention to your voice only.

“One vote.” you give him a forced smile, “Just by one vote, huh?”

Vil points a thumb at Rook, “The guilty party is over there.”

You peek behind him, eyebrows shooting up when you see your other upperclassman holding the hand of the team’s supposed rival and silently crying.

“...that...the VDC really is full of surprises…”

You both look at each other before smiling as you share a giggle, your hand going to Vil’s arm and giving it a soft squeeze before letting go.

He doesn’t want to think about what he would have done if you had been the one deciding vote. For a brief moment while the announcement was being made he thought that you had been that person, the one person he wished to curse and hate. Vil tried to imagine it, imagine directing all his anger towards you and promising you that every single day you remained at Night Raven College would be hell because of what you had taken from him.

Would he have gone through with it? Who knows?

Vil is a lot more relieved about the fact that you placed your trust in the team he had created and voted for him.

“How annoying.”

“Truly.”

“There goes our heater money.”

“I agree--what?”

You turn to him, smiling as you gesture down to the hiccuping Grimm in your arms. He had tired himself out from crying and the headache that followed after had kept him glued to your arms.

“I know he said that he was going to buy tuna with the money we would have gotten but I was thinking of buying a heater for Ramshackle.” you pout, “You guys were all complaining about how cold it was before using magic to make the entire dorm room cold proof. For a brief moment my dream of having heated floors came true.”

Vil catches you staring at Neige, your stare not one of admiration but of clear frustration and annoyance.

“And it wasn’t like his song was that good. It was catchy. Catchy turns straight up annoying in a few days. Watch people complain about how they wish it wasn’t stuck in their heads all the time, I give it a week.”

Maybe it was the strong emotions he was feeling right now, or the fact that he had come to terms with another set of emotions that were directed towards you a long time ago but Vil immediately grabs your hand and holds it close to his heart, your eyes turning to look at him as he stares at you with fierce intensity.

He wanted you to feel it. Could you feel how fast his heart was beating?

“Potato, no, Prefect--”

Your eyes widened, it was the first time he had referred you with that title.

“I want you to know that I--”

“Vi-kun!”

The Pomefiore dorm leader can feel the vein in his head beginning to throb as he hears his rival’s voice, the Royal Sword Academy student smiling as he came up to him and grabbed his hand.

“Let’s sing together! If we all sing together I’m sure it would be a lot more fun!”

Neige smiles as he grabs Vil’s hand, quickly interlocking their fingers together as the other complains about the distance. His eyes meet yours before he grins and gives you a peace sign.

“I’m going to steal him away real quick, I hope you don’t mind!”

“Neige!”

You blink before smiling as you wave goodbye, hugging Grimm close to you as you watch Vil be dragged away by Neige to the center of the stage. The small familiar in your arms groans as he hears the music start up again. “Not agaaaaain. Make it stoooop. My tunaaaaaaa!”

With a giggle, you scratch the top of his head as he buries his face in the crook of your arm.

“Go back to sleep, Grimmy. Let’s go back home.”

The music blares behind you as you hum along to the song, bobbing your head to the beat as Vil’s voice comes through loud and clear despite the cheers and the fanfare.

“See you guys again!”

You smile and hug Grimm close, walking towards the exit of the Coliseum.

What a bummer. Guess you couldn’t work up the courage to tell him after all.

--------

“You guys got everything?”

“Ah wait!” Kalim rushes back into Ramshackle as Jalim pinches the bridge of his nose, “I forgot Vil’s face stuff!”

You smile at Jalim, “You always seem to have your hands full.”

“Isn’t that an understatement.” he smiles, “Are you that eager to get us out of here, Prefect?”

“Not at all. I’ll be really lonely once you guys leave.”

Jalim stares at you before looking back at the Ramshackle door, his actions making you laugh as you pat his back and head inside. Guy wasn’t used to people being that honest, was he? You smile when Kalim meets you at the bottom of the stairs, hugging you close and saying quick goodbyes as Jamil called out to him for the second time.

“There they go…”

You whistle a low tune as you head upstairs, letting out a huge sigh as you flop down on your bed.

It was the most perfect opportunity...and you blew it.

Vil had been living with you for almost a whole MONTH and you only managed to have a decent conversation with him maybe three times. And you weren’t going to count that awkward moment you two shared that night.

Probably the reason he didn’t talk to you at all after that!

He had been concentrating so hard to win this competition and all you needed to do was just give him some good words of support, not go off about how you thought he was the ‘fairest’ in all of the school! What kind of STUPID confession was that! You wanted to be smooth about it and maybe ask him if he wanted to come with you to the Monstro Lounge after all of this was over.

At least you had gotten some decent words through. It had been inspiring to watch him work. You didn’t really have an opinion on him when you two first met but watching him put his everything into this one competition made you want to put everything into finding a way back home.

And like always, feelings of admirations grew to something else.

Something annoying and unnecessary.

Vil probably saw right through you, the way you would wake up early to catch him humming in the showers as you brushed your teeth. No, he probably caught on when you complimented every single meal he made when it was his turn to cook. Or maybe he caught on when you straight up admitted that you thought he was the most beautiful person on campus.

You laugh as you sling your arm over your eyes.

“I’m so messy.”

A knock on your door bolts you up from your bed. You knew it wasn’t Grimm since he had taken dibs on the bath first and was probably enjoying the hot water you wish you could enjoy as well. Amethyst eyes meet yours as Vil stares at you, bag on the floor by his side as you two stare each other down.

“...should I just leave?”

“No!” you immediately get up and walk over to him, “Let me walk you out. It is the duty of a Prefect to see all the guests out, after all~”

“You only have one other member living in your dorm, potato.”

“Doesn’t mean I should ignore the title given to me. That’s what Riddle taught me.”

You make a move to walk out into the hallway but his arm stops you, blocking your way as your eyes look into the deep purple linen. It must be really soft to touch-- “Oi.”

Whoops, lost in thought again.

“You say something?”

Vil sighs and you were expecting the usual disappointed look but your heart nearly beat out of your chest when you saw him smile, your hands clenching into tight fists as you step back two steps.

“You were talking about responsibilities of a dorm leader, so I’m doing my responsibility as well. I’m thanking you.”

“Ha! Vil-senpai you shouldn’t be thanking me, it was the Headmaster’s decision after all.”

Even then he shouldn’t be thanking you, if anything you should be thanking him.

“So you’re just going to refuse my gratitude?” his fingers brush away some strands of your hair, “Did Riddle only teach you one thing?”

You try to count by 5’s in your head as your face heats up, how were you still standing up?

“Sorry. You’re right.” you take a deep breathe, “You’re welcome. I’m glad my dorm could be of some service.”

It was a good idea to leave out the ‘to you’, it would probably creep him out.

Silence hung heavy in the room as the two of you heard the clock tick away at the minutes, Vil’s arm still blocking your exit to the hallway.

“Uhm...Vil-senpai?”

“I want to have no regrets for this VDC, potato. As frustrating as it is...I gave it my all and I lost.”

You open your mouth to try and console him but he stops you with just a stare. “But I have no regrets on how I approached this. The method was perfect and the song was perfect. I even managed to shape some rough looking potatoes into decent enough students.”

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and picking his words carefully.

“But I intend to leave this experience with no regrets whatsoever. Both on and off the stage.”

You tilt your head, “As in?”

The ticking of the clock stops for a moment as your chin is tilted upwards, starts up again when you feel a hand on your cheek pull you close and stops entirely when a pair of lips press against your own.

Your arms hang uselessly at your sides as Vil kisses you, his lips unmoving while the hand holding your cheek slithers all the way down to your waist. A shiver runs all the way from the soles of your feet to the top of your head, the sudden rush of warmth making you pull away.

Yet he selfishly clung to you.

“Are you going to walk me out, Prefect?”

The answer is quick as you wrap your arms around his neck, quickly pulling him down for another kiss. His heels click harshly against the wooden flooring as you two walk backwards and fall on your bed, the purple linen you had admired earlier now caressing your arms as you pull away for a quick breather.

“Vil--”

He takes advantage of your open mouth, tongue pushing inside and pressing against yours as he pulls your arms away from his neck and pins them to the bedding. You want to keep your eyes open, want to see Vil in ways you hoped nobody else had seen before. The circlet on his head probably disheveled from the rough tumble you two had, the eyeliner pressed so neatly against his eyelid, the way his fingers so delicately kept you from moving as his thumb caressed your wrist.

You can’t help but whine as he pulls away, trying to follow his lips but being kept in place by those hands on his. Vil watches you take deep gulps of air, his hands squeezing your wrists to keep you in place before moving away to take off the circle on top of his head as he laid it gingerly on the pillow next to your head.

“I’m going to ask again, Prefect.”

Vil presses a kiss to your eyelid, moving down to your cheek and finally your chin as his fingers toy with the first button of your pajama shirt.

“Are you going to walk me out?”

He smiles when you hold out your arms open for him, your eyes begging him to not leave you alone.

Tongues meet before lips as Vil shrugs off his robe and makes himself comfortable in your arms, grabbing his magic pen and flicking his wrist in order to shut the door to your room and locking it.

Obviously he would have to leave before the raccoon was done with his bath, but he was intending to finish this VDC with no regrets.

So the little furball could wait.

--------

Omake:

“Oi!!! Why did you lock the door!”

“Grimm don’t come in here!”

“Hah? You know this is my room too!”

“I know but right now I’m-ah!-busy! I’m busy!”

“With what--!”

“Grimm I’m just busy! Ace left a bunch of his snacks down in the kitchen! I’ll let you take dibs on whatever you want!”

“....no take backsies?”

“No--oh Great Sevens--no take backsies!”

“Fgnaa! I’ll dig in then~!”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #pomefiore #vil x reader #twst mc #chapter 5 spoilers #available books

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pinkiepiebones · 2 years

Text

Tried to do some tidying today and found the first magazine I bought because it had Ghost on the cover. Well, not the cover per se, but that top line “also in this issue” thing. Killed my thumbs typing all of this up on my phone for y’all. I only chaged the format of the questions, making them just “Questions” as opposed to the magazine’s “[Name of Asker] (Via Facebook)” I just didn’t want to type people’s names orz

Transcribed from Metal Hammer April 2017

“Ghouls in Session”

Keen to break through the mystique of our favourite Swedish clergymen, we kidnapped a Nameless Ghoul and interrogated him with your questions. The answers were most enlightening.

Interrogation officer: Ron Barbour

We’ll be honest: when we invited you lot to pitch questions at Ghost ahead of their imminent UK tour, we knew we were potentially letting our favourite spooks in for a world of pain. But, true to form, you did us proud, throwing us questions on everything from album themes to future Papas to, erm, lingerie. Alright, we never said it was all plain sailing. Answering in hushed tones but with good humour over a crackling phoneline, here’s what a Nameless Ghoul had to say when he was forced to face the wrath of the Hammer Army…

Question: Can you hear the tumble that’s calling?

Nameless Ghoul: “Right now I’m pretty deaf [unfortunately our Nameless Ghoul is feeling a bit off-colour today], so no! Not right now. But usually I’m able to tap into some noise. I have tinnitus, so I usually surround myself with some sort of background noise, otherwise I’ll hear that ringing in my ear all the time. So I always sleep with some kind of sonic source- but the rumble is usually just a ‘beeeeeeep’!”

Question: I read that the next album will be more medieval-themed. Will your masks and outfits reflect that also?

NG: “Yes! Where I think we took the theatricality a few steps forward on this album cycle, hopefully we’re gonna tale it five more steps on the next one.”

Question: What kind of style should we expect from our new Papa, in contrast to the other Ghost leaders we’ve seen?

NG: “The next album will be set in a much darker and God-fearing point in time. Where Meliora was in a futuristic setting- the Brave New World has very little fear of God- this new record will be set in a point of time where there’s an immense fear of deities. So there will definitely be a Papa around that has very little humour. That alone won’t make a show- there’ll be a surprise for everyone!”

Question: What can we expect to hear in the next Ghost record?

NG: “It will build on Meliora, production-value wise. There are a few things I’m really keen on exploring further; one difference is that it might be more of a sonically conceptual record. As opposed to 10 different songs, it might be like one song that starts in the beginning and goes through the end, seamlessly. Even though it’s gonna be an A and B side- Because I always think in vinyl, so there will be two acts- and even though there will be eight or so single tracks, when you listen through them it’s supposed to sit together. Like [Pink Floyd’s 1975 album] Wish You Were Here. Even though lyrically it won’t be a story, there will be several stories that loosely sit together in front of a backdrop of a certain theme and a certain environment. I can’t really go into depth about because it’s conceptual right now- we’re still writing it. But you’ll hear it… eventually!”

Question: Why does Papa Emeritus get replaced every 18 months? Soon you will be running out of Papas…

NG: “That is correct! But I’m sure we’ll be able to find a new one. Kinda like the Pope, or the CEO of a company, they’re more or less the same every time. You can always find an asshole!”

Question: Is Papa meant to be a ladies’ man, or did that just randomly pick up over the last tour? If so, does he love the attention he gets from all the women and men who basically drool over him?

NG: “He’s a natural! I’m sure he enjoys that- I mean, who wouldn’t?”

Question: When will Papa IV be revealed?

NG: “I can’t really say! There’s a slight twist to this, so Papa IV might take some time, let’s leave it at that.”

Question: Do you like Surströmming [the Swedish delicacy of herring that’s been put in just enough salt to stop it from rotting]?

NG: “I do not! It’s like if you put a corpse in a can for a long time, and then when you opened the can, the corpse farted.”

Question: What has been your best memory, from forming the band to present day?

NG: “There have been so many points in time that felt like milestones- obviously the Grammys were fun, and meeting such-and-such was fun, there are so many anecdotes! But one point in time where it felt like the band was really going somewhere was when we played our second show, at the Camden Underground [in 2010]. The response from the crowd was overwhelming. Since we hadn’t really played live, we weren’t sure how many people would be into our music. At that point, London was the epicentre of where our music had spread. The record [Opus Eponymous] had been out for a week, and that was a moment in time where it felt like this was definitely going somewhere.”

Question: What do the band do with all the fan art and lingerie they receive?

NG: Most of the fan art, we keep. Sometimes it gets damaged- not often, but it happens because some people through it up onstage and in the confusion of loading out, it might be something that gets lost. And sometimes people bring a lot of very delicate things, and it’s a bus, or a truck, and some of this stuff is made of papier-mâché. Underwear- well, they mostly end up in various trophy stage boxes where they’re neatly on display!”

Question: What’s the craziest thing you’ve seen someone from the audience do while you were performing?

NG: “What’s usually on the menu- in-between people just doing what most people do at concerts- everything from fighting to people copulating! You never really see the close-up action, but sometimes you see two people in the crowd, through your mask, moving in a certain way. And it’s like, ‘Eeeeew!’”

Question: Between condoms, Papa bust statues and the Phallos Mortuus [a box set containing a Papa dildo], you guys have released some pretty unique stuff. Is there any other offbeat merchandise you’d like to release in the future?

NG: “Ha, yes I suppose we have. As a band, you’re basically a travelling shop. Selling whatever you can to make money. Hopefully most of our merchandise is good, although occasionally something slips through- a shitty keyring or something! But, sometimes you just have to have fun with a dildo! We do want to release more offbeat merchandise… but I can’t tell you about it…”

Question: Why is Sister Imperator so nasty to the ghouls? What’s her deal?

NG: “Ha ha, I don’t know- maybe because sometimes we have to be better. If someone isn’t good enough, they’re getting their thumbs smacked!”

Question: When will Sister Imperator make her recording debut?

NG: “That’s a good question. I feel like she’s in all of us already, so perhaps it isn’t necessary to take it any further than that.”

Question: Are you worried that some meddling kids and their dog will unmask you?

NG: “No. No, I’m not worried about that!”

Question: Does Ghost’s image go hand-in-hand with your personal convictions and does someone from Ghost profess any religion?

NG: If we talk just about the Christian Bible- that came about because the Romans needed something to solve their Christian problem, to keep them in line. So, someone wrote it 300 years after Jesus died. When Jesus was alive, his ideas were a good way to treat people. And look what happened to him! He had some good ideas, but was he the son of God? I can’t believe that. I’d like to be proven wrong. I’ve always been fascinated by the cultural devil, by that imagery. But I don’t believe in it in the literal sense.”

Question: How does anonymity affect the creative process? Do you feel you’re more free to write what you want as a band, because no one can level criticism against you on a personal level?

NG: “I don’t feel like we are anonymous. People usually have no problem finding us after we’ve played, ha ha! But whoever you are- whether you’re Bruce Springsteen or Brian Molko from Placebo- you create a persona. And people expect you to be that person all the time. Whatever you write, you’re putting yourself into your music, so I don’t think the masks separate us from the art that we create in that way.”

Question: How long will Ghost keep up the charade of hiding behind masks, and is there any truth in the rumour Gene Simmons of Kiss is your collective father?

NG: “We aren’t hiding! The masks are part of Ghost, so they will always be there. For example, I might to something musically that isn’t Ghost, and I wouldn’t need to wear a mask. But it isn’t about hiding- it’s about performing. As for Gene Simmons- there’s not a lot of truth in that rumour…”

Question: How does it feel to have Square Hammer as a WWE anthem? [The track was used as an official song for a recent NXT event]

NG: “I used to be a wrestling fan when I was younger, so it’s surreal. I’ll be on the road and people will be texting me all the time saying they just heard Ghost on the TV!”

Question: Have you had any reactions from the bands you’ve covered?

NG: “Actually, yes! Because we’re signed to Universal in Europe, sometimes Benny or Bjorn from ABBA will come into the office. Someone at the label played them the I’m a Marionette cover, and they loved it! That was a really big deal.”

Question: Who would you most like to see cover a Ghost song?

NG: “Tori Amos. I’m not very interested in hearing other metal bands cover us. Apart from maybe Metallica- that would be good… for my wallet!” x

#ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost the band #special ghoul #phil the special #it’s kinda neat to look back on old interviews and see the clues

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 7- Touch Me Under The Stars

Bucky Barnes x reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: Now that Bucky is finally out of Cryo, the two of you adjust to life in Wakanda.

Warning: fluff, smut (it gets spicy), Bucky being soft

Masterlist

Life in Wakanda was something you could never have ever dreamed of, they literally had everything here. The buildings were huge, the people so interesting and lively, the scenery absolutely breathtaking, and the tech? Out of this fucking world to put it bluntly. Tony Stark who?

Though you’d be a lying fool if you claimed to be fully satisfied with your new corner of the globe, you had a place to exist and feel comfortable in, even a nice apartment overlooking the city that’s attached to where Bucky is currently being held in.

Right. Bucky.

He’s been on your mind as of late, well in actuality he’s been consuming most of your brain processing for the past couple weeks since you and him arrived here with T’Challa and Steve after the mess in Siberia.

Another painful memory added to the already long list of traumatic experiences endured by you throughout these past sixty or so years. But you’re surviving, well enough for the most part that is; you see Steve left soon after Bucky went into the Cryo chamber. Leaving yourself all on your lonesome in a strange new country with no friends but T’Challa.

If you could even consider him a friend.

Who by the way, makes you still feel pretty uncomfortable around considering all the times you beat the shit out of each other in the past, and he thought you and Bucky killed his dad, so it’s been light treading even if he insists it’s all in the past.

On a lighter note you met his little sister Shuri, who upon discovering who you were and what you can do, immediately began marveling at the fact that you have Adamantium claws in your forearms. She was thoroughly impressed and asked for you to cut a lot of random expensive looking objects for scientific purposes only.

Well that’s what she claimed at least. Other then then those two, you’ve been pretty solitary for the most part. Which has really started getting to you recently, something that T’Challa has begun to notice.

That man is too observant for his own good.

Wind rustles the jungle trees from outside this large glass window in the lounging area of King T’Challa’s extravagant home. They sway freely in the open sun as they stretch their great green leaves to the beautiful sky above. But no bout of joy resides in your heart this day, no matter how enticing the weather may appear.

Soon a new presence is felt in the room, though it’s nothing to be alarmed about as he walks to your side, a thoughtful yet concerned expression crossing over his kingly features, “Are you finding your stay here welcoming Y/N?” Wonders T’Challa softy as you slowly blink.

“I am.”

He frowns, you’ve been quit talkative before, but now you barely even speak to anyone, “My friend I know you are not alright. Please tell me what troubles your heart.”

Dammit he’s good.

Sighing, you hug your sides as he patiently awaits an honest answer, frowning, you reluctantly begin, “I thought I would be fine....I’ve always been alone for most of my life anyways. Never counted on anyone but myself. Never needed anyone but myself. That’s how I survived. It’s just now.....I have Bucky. And I care about him more then anything in the world, but he’s gone.......well not really but, you know.” You whisper before turning your head towards some tall trees so that the king cannot see the way that your eyes brim with unshed tears. God the ache you feel for him is almost unbearable.

Understanding your deep sorrow from your lovers absence, T’Challa slowly nods, “I cannot fully express an understanding of your pain, as I have never felt it like the way that you have now. Nor have I lived the life of your own.” He admits as you turn your head to catch him in your peripheral vision, not quit ready to meet his unthreatening gaze.

He swallows before continuing, “But this I do know, you are a warrior if I’ve ever known one, and I know many.” Chuckles the king, “You fight fiercely and love deeply, Bucky should be proud to have you by his side. I may envy that kind of love, though I should not say it, it is true.”

A stray tear slides down your cheek as you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand, “Love.” You whisper softly in thought, “I do love him, yes....very much. I’ve been withdrawn lately, because well, I guess I miss him more then I’d realize I would. I hope your people help him. That’s all I ask for, I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“You might not be waiting quit that long actually.” Reveals Shuri as her familiar footsteps wander into the large sun-lite room overlooking the jungle, “My team just needs a couple more days with him and he’ll be good to go for the most part. Though the process of fully becoming free from the trigger words may take a little longer....his mind will still need time to heal.” Explains Shuri as she moves to stand on your left, opposite of her half-brother.

At this your heart speeds up with excitement, eyes turning to face the smiling princess , “I don’t want to threaten royalty, but I might break a couple of your lounge chairs if you’re lying to me. I’m not joking.” You add half jokingly as T’Challa lightly chuckles.

“Now I do not doubt that.”

——

Today you’ve been summoned into the lab in preparation for Bucky’s defrosting, claiming that having a familiar face as the first thing he sees was probably the best for when he wakes up again, at least that’s what the doctors told you.

And of course you didn’t even hesitate to say yes. So now here you are in their cleaner then a soap bottle lab, standing nervously a couple feet away from the Cryo chamber as some scientists go about their duties to his left. It’s strange, he looks relatively peaceful and serene, like he’s having a nice little nap while standing upright and covered in frost.

Nonetheless Bucky looks handsome as always, soon a tiny subconscious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you await the aftermath of the defrosting process. A button is hit and the familiar whoosh of the air chamber fills your ears as bouts of warm white steam push up into the air from the bottom and sides of his chamber.

The inside goes foggy before one of the scientists flicks a switch and the glass door pops open to emit a plethora of tiny clouds that float up and dissipate just as quickly. In the aftermath, your eyes search for Bucky, he’s still sleeping and is covered in a couple specks of blue frost, his hair undoubtedly wet from the chamber’s atmosphere.

“Give him a moment, he may be slightly disoriented as the body wakes up again.” Explains Shuri from the doorway as you bite your bottom lip anxiously in anticipation for when he’s finally conscious.

“Right.” You nod in understanding, “Not like this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him this way.” You mutter with a depressing chuckle.

A second later you’re alerted to the sound of someone sucking in a deep breath, immediately your head snaps over to witness as Bucky stirs, his fingers curl back to life as his lips part. Then soon after his two icy blue pools slowly reveal themselves to the rest of the lab as he takes a look around.

Your fists grip tightly onto the fabric of your jacket as Bucky swallows before blinking back the slight blur of waking up from a couple weeks of hibernation. The scientists, Shuri, and you study his movements as Bucky’s brow raises in thought, his eyes only on you.

“How longs it been?” He wonders before taking a step to get out of the Cryo chamber.

“Exactly a month and a half Mr. Barnes.” Chirps Shuri enthusiastically as he nods in understanding before she gives a glance between the two of you, “Alright, I’ll give you and Miss. Valerious some time to catch up while we check your vitals.” Adds the princess before exiting out the door, the other scientists following suit.

Now it’s just you and your Bucky; glancing at the floor, the two of you wander into a semi-awkward silence before he finally breaks the ice, “You look good.” He mutters softly, a small reassuring smile on his pink lips as your eyes trail up to meet his.

Revealing a breathy laugh, you shrug, “Hardly. But you on the other hand, white, I like it. It’s a good color on you.”

His stubbled cheeks flush pink as he smiles brightly, “I think I remember you telling me the exact same thing before I went under.”

“Well I just told you again, because I mean it.”

“Well I like the new style..” Points Bucky to your outfit, “it’s Wakandian but very Y/N.....I like it.”

Shaking your head you begin giggling at his adorable compliment, “Barnes you’re too much....but seriously, how do you feel? Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Thirsty?”

He smiles, “No, uh....I actually feel pretty good honestly. I could go for something to eat though, I’m starving.”

Walking over you gently take his hand in yours, “Say no more. T’Challa’s got everything here.”

——

After Bucky got readjusted and evaluated by Shuri’s team of incredible scientists and brilliant doctors, Bucky was well on his way to a full recovery from the years of mental torture given to him by Hydra. The words didn’t affect him anymore, the anxiety surrounding the very thought of breaking and turning on everyone again was a thing of the past.

He was your Bucky, completely.

In the following days after, T’Challa found a nice place on the outskirts of the grand city where you and Bucky could lay low and recover for some time as needed. Not wanting to over due your stay in his lavish home, and also wanting to feel the breeze again, you both agreed to live in a little village on the edge of a large pond.

All of it was Wakanda, so neither you nor Bucky stressed any worry that the Romanian and German authorities would come bursting through the front gates to whisk you away for your crimes. Or Tony Stark for that matter, he definitely hates you guys without a doubt in your mind.

Definitly with good reason, but that doesn’t mean you’d ever dare give Bucky up.

But on to greener pastures, it’s truly a possible thing that you’ve never seen Bucky in colors besides black or faded red shirts. But now? He wanders around in the brilliantly beautiful colors of Wakanda and her people with a brighter smile on his lips and lack of one arm for the time being.

Ah yes, the arm.

For the most part he’s been fine about it, though he needs your assistance when getting dressed or when attempting to wash the grime from his growing mane. Although, and fortunately for you, he’s still quit proficient in the area of love making with no decline in performance with lack of one arm, much to your satisfaction and his.

Besides that, it’s amusing, since you’ve been staying in this little friendly village, the kids have begun calling him the White Wolf when they want his attention. Which in turn earns a small smile upon his lips, one because he knows you usually hear it and think it’s adorable, and two it’s probably the first honestly kind thing anyone has ever placed on him, ever.

Walking across the villages center area, past huts and ladies washing some of their tunics, you follow the excited rambling of one of the village children as she talks a mile a minute about how you just have to see this really cool thing right now without exception. So of course you have to see this really cool thing, right now.

“Y/N! Y/N! Come! Faster you’re going to miss it, hurry you’re being slow.” Urges Ryn’a with a wave of her hand as she beckons you to starts running with her.

Heeding to her urgent request, you give her aunt a pursed lip grind before racing after the sprinting child, “This better be very interesting, or I’ll throw you into the water again!” You playfully threaten as she giggles across the grassy field.

Soon you’re crouching behind a rock as she peeks over the stony edge, ducking back down, she gives you a mischievous grin, “The White Wolf doesn’t see us.”

Raising a brow you nod, “This is what you wanted me to see? Him?”

Shaking her head she rolls her dark eyes in amusement, “No. We’re hunting.” She smirks in excitement as your brows furrow in confusion. Huh?

“Uh.....what?” Suddenly you connect the dots, “Are we hunting the White Wolf?” You ask, pretty damn positive that’s where this little adventure is going.

Shaking your shoulder excitedly she squeaks with joy before instantly catching herself and quieting down real quick, “He’s just over this rock. Chopping wood for the fire tonight....we need to hit him with a stick okay, then we run.”

Slowly nodding, your eyes trail over her excited face, “Hmm, okay. But I gotta ask, did Kova put you up to this and I’m now an accomplice?”

Biting her bottom lip, she diverts her gaze to the bushes behind you before mumbling out, “He might have......and if I was to hit the White Wolf on his head without getting caught. I’d get to play the drums for the fire tonight.” She whispers almost embarrassed.

Giving her a kind smile, you gently touch her shoulder in reassurance as she looks to you now, “Well then. Looks like we’re on a wolf hunt today, huh. Lucky for you, I’m great at throwing sticks.”

Immediately she squeals in joy before standing as still as stone, “Sorry.”

“No worries. I don’t think he heard a sound.” You reply, snatching a ruler sized stick from the ground before peeking over the grey sun kissed rock.

There he is, in his red tunic completely oblivious, using a Vibranium axe to chop away at the wood for tonight’s fire dance. Sitting back down, you press your back against the stone as Ryn’a clenches her fists in excited anticipation, “Ready, Y/N?” You nod as she smiles.

“Okay good....don’t miss.” She warns.

“I never miss.” You muse before turning back around, your eyes peek up over the edge and watch as Bucky sets another log on the flat rock, he hauls the axe down, splitting the wood in two.

Setting the axe down again, he walks over to the small log pile before selecting one and setting it back on the flat rock, bending down to grab the axe and when he stands to his full height again...

Smack!

Instantly the dry weather worn stick flies from the back of his head to the ground below as he throws a wary look in your direction. Though he sees absolutely nothing but a big grey rock and some bushes. Touching the back of his head, he looks down and swiftly picks up the relatively unthreatening piece of dried wood.

Studying it like it’s the holy grail and will give him all the answers to eternal life and whatnot, he throws it to the ground before continuing with his duties as you turn back to Ryn’a. “That was a good hit.....can you do it again? Please?” Mutters the little beast as you settle down from that adrenaline rush of perfectly nailing Bucky in the back of his head without getting caught.

Let’s not forget you were one of Hydra’s most deadliest assassins.

Her dark chocolate eyes stare pleadingly and puppy-like as she fake pouts, “Please Y/N? I won’t ever leave another turtle in your house ever again....promise. I promise, please?” She quietly begs as you contain your laughter.

“Yeah alright. But you’re gonna have to run cause he’s probably gonna figure out where the second one came from.” You add with a smirk, “I’ll deal with the wolf after. I can take him.”

“Yes!” She squeaks, “Oh, sorry I mean....yes.” She whispers quietly as you search for a new stick to throw.

Soon enough you find another and cautiously look around the side of the rock this time, there’s Bucky, setting another log on the flat rock before slicing it in half. Instantly the biggest grin pulls your lips into a Cheshire Cat smile as he turns to grab another log.

Smack!

“Hey! Who was that?!” He shouts in confusion as Ryn’a bursts with laughter before booking it back to the safety of the village while you crouch there behind a rock cackling like a child.

God that was such an accurate hit too. And he didn’t even see it coming.

Suddenly you hear the sounds of feet running against the earth, when Bucky makes it to the back of the large rock you’re nowhere to be found. Brows furrowing, he looks at the bushes and then over to the nearby village before shaking his head and turning around to walk back over to his usual duties for the day.

Only now he’s confronted by the casually innocent face of you who’s standing there with the axe slung over your shoulder, “Something scare you Barnes?” You muse with a small laugh before nodding towards the wood, “I mean these logs can be pretty scary I won’t hold it against you. You might have seen a snake, who knows.”

Sauntering back over to you he stands there for a moment just observing your casually calm self, “Why do I have a suspicion you just hit me with a stick. Twice.”

Shrugging, you slam the axe into the dirt before rising up to meet his humored gaze, “Maybe it was a Rhino, maybe it was a little nine year old who needed me to win her a drum. Guess you’ll never know.”

Glancing from the ground then back up to you again, Bucky shakes his head at your theatrical antics, warm smile ghosting across his lips, “Well just so you know it didn’t hurt.” Assures your big tough man with a nod.

“I’ll use a bigger stick next time.” You quip as he takes a step closer to you.

Handsome face breaking out into a beaming grin, “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I’m tired of chopping wood.” He says as his fingers ghost against the bare skin of your sleeveless shoulders, “I just want to be with you.”

Touching the side of of his stubbly cheek affectionately, you smile, “Where too? By the pond?” Which causes him to snort a breathy laugh.

“No, I don’t trust you by open water.”

You shrug in agreement, remembering the first time you both arrived here and the children brought you into a splashing fight where you got Bucky’s hair all wet, “Yeah that’s fair.”

——

After enjoying a pleasant evening walk together, eating a delicious traditional Wakandian meal, and watching the performers for the celebration dance and beat on their drums for hours into the night. You and Bucky decided to steal away from the festivities and have a little moment together under the stars, just you and him, nothing and no one else.

“That was nice wasn’t it.” You mutter as he lays on his back next to you, “I like these people. They’re kind.”

Turning his head to meet your shadowed face, he smiles adoringly as you keep a steady gaze set on the stars above, “Well, no ones trying to kill us so I’d say we’re doing alright.”

“We are, aren’t we. Who would have thought that shit huh? Two ex-assassins, two fucked up people like us laying like sappy teenagers under the stars. This almost feels like some stupid romantic film.”

Bucky lets out a proper laugh this time as you send him a humored look, “What? I’m being honest!”

Quickly he rolls onto his side to face you, a new sultry flicker flashing through his dark gaze, “Maybe I like being sappy with you.” He mutters lovingly before trailing a finger across your jaw as you study his face.

“Sappy with me? Why Mr. Barnes are you flirting with me this fine evening?” You muse with a breathy chuckle as he smiles brightly down at you.

“I was hoping you’d notice, is it working?” He asks, a hopeful look in his dark blue eyes.

Leaning closer, he’s pleasantly surprised when you gently press your lips to his, “My God James you’re making me swoon.” You jest before snickering at your shitty old-timey accent replacing the Eastern European one, “Why I’ve never met such a character, now tell me Mr. Barnes, are you a single man?”

Holding in his laughter, he takes a breath before answering, “Doll, I’m taken.”

Gasping in mock surprise, you quickly sit up before pushing him onto his back by both shoulders, your legs to either side of his torso as your faces keep mere inches apart, “Well, well, well how about that.” You slyly tisk, your natural accent dripping heavily as it sends a thrill through Bucky, “Lucky woman indeed. But I can guarantee you, I’m much more enticing.”

Bucky shivers as you lean your body closer to his, your silky hands to either side of his flushed face as you smile a devilish grin in the darkness, “I don’t doubt it.” He rasps, voice just barley above a whisper, lips so close to yours now you could almost taste him.

“I just realized something.” You suddenly mumble against his plush inviting lips.

Bucky hums in reply, to completely and utterly enthralled by your seductive charm to even form a coherent sentence, you smirk before rising to properly sit up against him, “Bucky, you look better in the dark.”

His stomach rises with a deep laugh that rubs pleasingly against your growing warmness as he gently squeezes a hand on your right thigh, “You’re gonna get it for that one.” He muses, appearing like he’s about to flip you over but you’re not having any of that.

Pressing a hand against his firm chest, you suddenly grind your clothed nether regions slowly and meticulously against his lower stomach. He quickly lets out a low guttural moan as you lean down to press a chaste kiss against his lips.

Pulling away, you rest one hand on the thin Wakandian blanket that’s keeping you two from the dirty ground below, your other hand gently trailing down the side of his stubbly face, “Just let me make love to you okay? If you want that i...”

“Yes!” Interrupts Bucky with a great bout of enthusiasm before catching himself, “I mean....uh, yes please.” He mutters, failing to regain his composure as you circle your hips against his fiery skin. Oh, you are certainly enjoying yourself.

Smiling into the half moonlight, your eyes trail cautiously over to the burning village bond-fire a small trek away, seeing everyone laughing and minding their sweet business you then immediately pull your shirt off, your bra following right after just as quickly. Laying discarded on the nearby grass for later; Bucky’s eyes go wide with lust as the outline of your curves and protruding breasts flash like gold in the moonlight.

God you’re so beautiful, he thinks, and all mine.

The smile that Bucky gives you could just about light up a room on the darkest of nights, he wants you, he needs to be consumed by you, to feel you for all that you are. You can see it by the way that he rubs your partially exposed thigh, by the way his eyes never leave yours and when they do it’s to wander around your divine vessel.

He’s never been more in love then in this very moment, if that’s even possible; he’s never really spoken too deeply about it, his time with Hydra. But he’s undoubtedly glad that you found him when you did, he was in a dark place then. Lost and alone, on the run and keeping to the shadows as best he could from the rest of the hungry eyes of the world.

Then one day out of the blue you showed up with nothing but your wits and a kind smile to show you meant no harm, all you wanted was to see him again after all that time apart from your escape and his imprisonment with Hydra. He was sent to kill you, but you came back to him anyways.

He didn’t understand it at first, when he began to realize what falling in love truly felt like, but with time it came to him. At first sight wasn’t something that happened by any means, he was nervous to see you, standing there so innocently in his apartment in Bucharest. He thought he was being careful, he thought he was safe.

But then Hydra’s most prized weapon and most difficult one at that, you, had shown up to make sure he was okay. He couldn’t believe it, but what scared him the most as he let you stay with him, he was slowly but surly beginning to fall in love with you.

Now that was a new feeling he hadn’t felt in decades, you intrigued him, made him laugh with the simplest of offhanded side comments, made him try to be a better person. And most of all you made him feel wanted and loved, and that is something he will always hold dearly to his very heart and soul.

Because as you’ve said to him, you’re his ride or die no exception, you’ll always be there to throw a punch for him or to gather himself in your arms when the darkness threatens to consume him for all he’s worth.

You’re not afraid of him like so many are, you don’t run from danger, oh no, when Bucky’s concerned. You’re ass will fight to exhaustion to keep him safe and alive. Which so far has proved a very useful state of mind in consideration to the past events that have currently led you two on this ever changing roller coaster.

From Bucharest to Berlin, a flight to Siberia and a long skip down to Wakanda; you two will be by each other’s side no matter the distance. Because to put it bluntly, you’re all Bucky has left in the world and Bucky is all you have either, one without the other would be a dreadful existence.

Luckily for you, Bucky’s incredibly alive and doing pretty damn alright all things considered. Also for the current moment, he’s becoming an undone mess underneath you. Which is just what you’ve wanted, he deserves it.

Trailing a fiery pathway of butterfly kisses from his collarbone all the way up to his neck and jawline, Bucky emits a deep groan of pleasure as you palm him through his baggy pants that have started to tent with the pull of his growing hardness.

His lower half is still clothed while your whole body is free for the shimmering stars to bear witness to, and Bucky of course. “Y/N. Please.” He rasps as you feel up his clothed manhood while you grind tirelessly against his bare stomach, the sensation no doubt drawing you into a blissful rising climax to follow.

Stopping your pleasurable attack to his hardened member, you swiftly roll off of him as you decide it’s time to get things rolling, “Alright hot stuff get that shit off, I need you inside me right the fuck now.”

“Give me a sec...” Grunts Bucky as he kicks off his pants into the grass before you help him prepare to slip off his underwear, holding the top rim of the fabric, you generously pull it to his ankles before he kicks them off completely.

He chuckles as your face flashes with delight once all the goods are finally shown at long last, “See something you like?” Quips your man as your head snaps up to meet his amused gaze, huh were you staring?

A hot second later you’re hovering directly above his heated body as he strains from grabbing your soft hips and pushing your slick entrance into him. He wants you to enjoy yourself more then anything in the world, so instead does he pull you in for a heated kiss.

“I see many things that I like.” You whisper against his soft lips before slowly sinking down onto him, the sensation of his fullness and girth pulling you into a world of bliss.

Your smile is almost provocative as he moans, the sounds of his pleasure sending sparks of electricity into your system, “God Buck, you feel so fucking good.” You praise, rolling your hips back and forth against him shamelessly, God he loves it when you sweet talk him

He smirks against the corner of your lips before kissing your cheek, “You.....to-too.” Stutters Bucky while you continue to relentlessly ride him like a wild bull, the rocking of your hips causing him to forget how to properly speak.

He looks absolutely angelic, dark locks spread out upon the Wakandian blanket, shirtless, and face smiling with great happiness and joy that he’s been so terribly deprived of for such a long time. Not anymore. Not if you can help it.

Biting your lip when his member twitches inside you, you’re helpless to stop as a soft voluptuous whimper leaves your parted lips unexpectedly when he bucks his hips into you for some more friction. Noticing how well this new action is being received by you, Bucky does it over and over again until you’re nothing but a moaning mess above him.

Dammit he knows how to make you feel good.

Your body falling fully onto him as he makes you cum hard, “F-fuck.....oh God Buck, fuck me.” You mumble against his lips as he thrusts up into you over and over until he finally spills inside you with a concentrated grunt.

“oh.” You gasp breathlessly as Bucky flips you onto your back in one skilled motion, still deep within your wet warmness as his whole body presses you wonderfully into the soft blanket, “I hope they can’t see us.” You point out as Bucky chuckles before kissing your jawline, strong hips pushing against yours as he parts your legs further with his large body.

“It’s dark out.” Mutters Bucky in reply as he pulls another moan from your sweet lips, “They’re dancing.....and we’re....oh fuck....uhh....yes...” He can’t even finish his sentence as you suddenly squeeze your walls tightly around his cock as a second orgasm hits you, “Dear God Y/N.” Moans Bucky while you trail pink fiery lines down his muscular back.

Smiling against his lips, you fully enjoy the sensation of his thick member sliding in and out of you at a blissfully rapid pace as he continues to make a mess down there with his pleasure inducing actions. You’re incredibly grateful for the fire dance celebration happening a little ways away and all the loud pounding of the tribal drums that masks over the sounds of yours and Bucky’s intense love making on the Wakandian savanna.

Biting your lip, you can’t help when more whiney moans slip from your mouth, he’s a relentless force of lust and love that’s on a mission to see you filled to the brim with pleasure once more. He needs you, he wants every single inch of your heated vessel, he needs you to come for him just one last time.

“Y/N.” Mumbles Bucky against your parted lips as you slowly nod in acknowledgment, too fucked out to think. He smirks, “Cum for me, last time okay.” Says your lover sweetly as his hips roll against your sweaty skin, sending waves of building pleasure on a crash course for your hot core that’s pulsating in delight.

Digging your nails into the slick muscle of his broad back, you suck in a breath while his hard member slides in and out of you with ease. You’re about to come undone right under him yet again, the power of this man you could just about die happy, “Fuck,” You whimper helplessly as he kisses your cheek, “oh God Buck I’m close.”

He smiles proudly as his hips thrust forward, cock sliding deep within your warm walls as his manhood presses on the brim of your entrance, working absolute wonders on your over-stimulated clit.

Soon enough, the tight coil bursts open, sending shock waves of absolute radiant bliss that causes your muscles to tighten and shake reflexively. A sudden wetness slips out around his cock and onto the Wakandian blanket that’s definitely going to need a deep cleaning tomorrow.

The new liquid slides down your inner thighs as your body slowly yet surly comes down from your salaciously erotic climax; head unclouding the thick fog away, you take a deep breath only for yourself to realize you just squirted for the first time ever.

And it appears Bucky has just come to this thrilling realization too, locking eyes with him, you’re greeted with a sly smirk, “Did I just make you squirt?” Muses Bucky in underlying excitement as you simply roll your eyes.

“Well, it’s not like I can deny it considering it’s all over the blanket, among other places.” You sass back, still aware of how he’s still buried deep inside you, “Proud of yourself?” You add with a small laugh.

Kissing your lips in reply, he pushes himself up by his one arm to gently slip out of you before laying in an exhausted heap at your side, “Actually. Yes, I am very proud of myself thanks for asking.” Quips Bucky while his hand trails down your bare rib cage before a huge grin reveals itself in the darkness, “I just made my girlfriend squirt!” Shouts Bucky without a care in the whole goddamn world.

Smacking his arm, you quickly sit up and look around, though it appears no one even knows you two are out here, “Will you shut up!” You whisper yell down at Bucky who’s giving you the biggest white toothed smile ever, “Stop smiling it wasn’t that impressive.”

Faking a half offended look, he pats your leg affectionately, “It was! And you seemed to be enjoying it so just accept that I’ve gotten better at this.”

You scoff, “I never said you weren’t. It’s just we’ve been together for almost three years and that’s the first time I’ve ever done.....that. So..”

“And it just happened so therefore I am amazing and you’re just going to have to accept how hot I am Y/N.”

“Buc..”

“I was getting you all hot and bothered doll.” Winks Bucky seductively as you shake your head at him, a reluctant smile creeping onto your beautiful features anyway.

“God you’re so old.”

Bucky snorts, “And aren’t you 65 or something? Sleeping with a 90 year old man....Y/N you’re getting out of hand.”

Shoving his hand off of your leg, you swiftly fall into his side as his arm curls up to wrap protectively against your waist, “Bucky shut your ass up.” You snicker, “I liked you better when I was on top. All you did was give me that “oh god Y/N oh fuck me ohhh I’m gonna I’m gonna...”

Bucky squeezes your side, “Okay. Okay. I get it you little asshole....let’s just, let’s just rest a moment yeah?”

You hum, shifting yourself so that you can lay against his chest, “Getting mushy on me now Barnes?” You whisper softly with a playful smirk.

A small smile pulls at the corners of his plush lips while he glances down at you, “A little.”

For about twenty minutes the two of you keep silent, just listing to the yelps and thunderous pounding of the drums from farther away. There is no reason to leave, no reason to move, no reason to speak. Just you two, laying wrapped up together in each others loving embrace, taking in the moment for as long as you can. The future is always uncertain, so every single second with Bucky is a blessing to be cherished and consumed for all you can take.

His breaths are slow and steady as you feel the soft rise and fall of his muscular chest that’s pressed against your breasts and face. His fingers run gentle line up and down your naked skin as you hug him close.

“Do you remember when we first saw one another?” Asks Bucky, his voice almost startling you. Lips just barley brush against your naked shoulder as he holds you close, your face nuzzled comfortably against his dark hair.

You pause, eyes blinking as they shift over to Bucky while he awaits an answer, “It was a long time ago Buck.”

“I know. But do you remember?”

Shrugging, you shift a bit to have a better look at his face, “I do. But you were the Winter Soldier and I was.....something I never want to be ever again.” You mutter, the sadness and regret deep in your soft voice.

All goes silent for the next couple minutes before Bucky suddenly kisses your shoulder, “I thought you were beautiful.”

Yours brows raise as you pull from his right grasp to sit up on one elbow while you look down at him, a lump forming in the back of your throat as you hold back tears. You didn’t expect to get this emotional but here you are naked and bare for him, “You did?”

Bucky nods in the darkness, heart hurting when your voice cracks, he’s never told you a word about how he felt when he was a weapon, “And every day after that.”

“oh.”

“I didn’t want them to.....well, you know.....I didn’t want to forget you.” Confesses Bucky, “I’m so fucking glad I didn’t. Thank you for finding me Y/N....I owe you my life.”

Biting the bottom of your quivering lip, he smiles adoringly up at you, “Bucky....shut up you’re going to make me cry you bastard.” He laughs as you indeed shed a couple stray tears in this soft moment of vulnerability with your sweet man as he holds you protectively in his arm.

“I mean it...every single word, you mean so much to me Y/N. The world would be a darker place without you in it...”

You lower your head in shame, all those buried memories piling up all at once, “No. No it wouldn’t be....I’m part of the darkness Bucky...you know that..”

“Y/N, look at me, please.” Begs Bucky as you begrudgingly lift your head for him to meet your tearfully sad eyes, “Don’t let them win. What they did to us, what they made us do....you’re so much better then all of that. We’ve changed Y/N, for the better and you know it...the words can’t break me anymore and you, you’re free.”

“Okay.” Is all you’re able to rasp out before more tears fall willingly from your eyes, tiny water droplets of grief and remorse pattering against his bare chest, Bucky’s heart breaks for your pain and loss, and everything those fuckers at Hydra put you through before your escape to freedom.

He knows how much you hate yourself for all the innocent people you killed, granted not many were adherently innocent, but there where many that died by your hand because wrong place wrong time or by Hydra manipulation. Selling you false secrets that painted some people who were indeed good, as the enemy equal to the worst kinds of humans.

He knows, and he refuses to let you fall into this dark pit of despair, “I love you...okay, Y/N I love you so fucking much.” His words are well heard and received as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

There he holds you tightly, there he will protect you with his life, and there he will stay with you under the stars until dawn breaks out over the horizon.

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94 @iamasimpingh0e

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel #tfatws #the avengers imagine #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x you #james buchanan barnes

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melzula · 4 years

Text

The Throne

part one

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: so excited to finally be getting into the Koa storyline with you guys! I hope you enjoy ♡

summary: though a party is held in her honor, the Princess doesn’t feel welcomed home just yet. but will the help of some old friends bring her one step closer to taking back the throne from the scheming Koa?

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

Your crown weighs heavily upon your head as you walk through the palace hallways, chin held high but shoulders tense as you pass by the guards and officials who look at you with silent judgement in their eyes. None of the faces are familiar as all of the men you’d known growing up had been sent off to war and killed in battle. The new recruits now in charge of protecting the royal family all had been assigned by Koa, and you’d have to be blind—sorry, Toph— to ignore the malice and resentment in their hard set gazes as they watched the girl undeserving of her title waltz by as if she hadn’t abandoned her people for the enemy. Koa had made it adamantly clear that the so-called Princess cared not for her tribe but rather her own selfish wants and desires, and they believed him.

Outside the palace servants and cooks and decorators all scramble by in preparation for the party being held in your honor; your mother had insisted on a welcoming party to celebrate your return, though you doubted many people shared her sentiment. There were a handful of members from the tribe who were so glad to have you back, who showered you in warmth and thanked you for aiding the Avatar in ending the war so that their husbands and fathers could return safely, and little girls who shyly tugged at the skirts of your dresses and expressed their admiration for you and their desire to one day be a strong, fierce fighter like you. But there were also those who overlooked your accomplishments in order to focus upon your faults and your mistakes, who agreed that you were not ready to take control of the throne and some who even went as far as to say you were undeserving of it, that a water bending princess who strayed from healing and trained in fighting was untraditional. And of course, there was the group of indifference who needed extra persuasion to decide whether they were for or against you. Overall, the party didn’t seem like the best idea, but your mother was adamant that you use the opportunity to reconnect with your people, so you obliged. You’d survived a strike from a crazed Azula, so surely you could handle this.

“Princess,” one of the servants calls, bowing before you in respect before handing you a neatly tied scroll, “a messenger hawk from the Fire Nation was sent for you with this scroll.”

“Thank you,” you nod, containing your smile as you politely dismiss her before opening the scroll to be greeted by familiar handwriting.

“Princess,

I know it’s only been a week since you’ve left but I already miss you greatly. It’s odd not having you by my side, but I know you’re doing great things back in the south. I hope to see you soon once I have all of my affairs in order, though that could be some time. Until then, expect a messenger hawk at least once a week. Take care, y/n. I love you.

- Zuko”

“Oh, Zuko,” you sigh softly, clutching the letter to your chest in a form of comfort, “I really wish you were here right now.”

It was definitely going to be a long night.

~~~

The steady beat of the drums reverberate through the walls and pound in your chest as you anxiously adjust your headpiece and prepare to make your grand entrance. The beads that hang from your jewelry click against one another with your movements, a calming sound that brings you comfort and reassurance despite your nerves, and you are only allowed a single moment to hide your scarred hands underneath the pure white fabric of your gloves before the two guards begin to escort you out to greet your tribe.

Your mother sits at the grand table amongst the elders of the tribe, a proud smile on her face as she watches you emerge from the palace with grace and dignity despite how nervous she knows you are, and as soon as your presence is announced you are greeted with an obligatory round of applause from your people. Koa rises, a bowl of black paint in his hand and unreadable expression on his lips; he does not bow to you as he is expected to, but no one other than you seems to mind.

“It is with great honor that I bestow the mark of welcoming upon our Princess,” he announces as he dips a finger into the black paint and presses four dots on each cheek before drawing an intricate swirl on your forehead meant to represent the tides washing back to the shore— a symbolic mark of your return home. “May she be welcomed with warmth and gratitude after her three year long journey from home.”

You smile proudly, waving to your tribe as some cheer and others politely clap and most share looks of uncertainty with one another. The return of their princess was now official, but one unspoken question remained: who would take the throne now? You startle at the sudden weight that falls upon your shoulder, Koa maintaining a neutral expression as he leans nearer and whispers in your ear.

“Remember Princess, this paint won’t last forever. Every welcome washes away eventually.”

He pulls away from you like nothing, leaving you stunned and stiff and with no time to recover as he smiles and announces, “Let the festivities begin!”

You are given no chance to retaliate or fight back as you are suddenly pulled every which way by your guests. You are offered various dishes, asked for endless dances, and you can’t even count how many times someone has asked to see your scars. It seems like hours pass before you are finally given a chance to breathe, seating yourself at the table and devouring your plate of puffin-seal sausages— dancing had made you absolutely famished. It’s lonely and, frankly, quite intimidating sitting at the head table by yourself, almost emphasizing the fact that despite being the Princess you aren’t exactly welcomed back, at least not completely.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A shy voice asks. You quickly swallow the large chunk of sausage in your mouth with a grimace before turning your attention to the boy in front of you who greets you with a friendly smile and sheepish wave.

“Kai!” You exclaim, happy to have a familiar face to keep you company. “You’ve grown so much, I almost didn’t recognize you. Of course you can sit.”

“Thanks, y/n,” the boy says before seating himself beside you. Kai was the silent, soft spoken son of Koa, the boy you would have married had you not ran away. Unlike his father, Kai was good company and never once gave you any trouble. He used to bring you colorful fish scales when you were children, and because his father was your father’s advisor you often spent time together as kids. You got along well, but you never saw him as nothing more than a friend despite how often your parents tried to get you together.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Kai. I’m in great need of a friend,” you admit with a faint smile.

“Yeah, these parties are mostly for the adults if I’m being honest. But it’s nice to see you, too. You look really different. Uh, good different, of course.”

“It’s been some time since we’ve last seen each other,” you note thoughtfully, your solemn gaze focusing upon the festivities before you. “So much has changed.”

“It isn’t so different. Now that the war has ended the men are back and we can start rebuilding. The outer villages should probably receive the most attention considering how small they’ve gotten and how little resources they have, but my dad says we should focus on the capital tribe first. If we’re weak then the smaller tribes don’t even stand a chance. At least that’s what he says, anyway.”

“I agree with you,” you say, turning your attention to him then with an apologetic look on your face. “Listen, I know you were originally promised my hand in marriage, and I’m sorry for running out on you. I didn’t want to hurt you, but an arranged marriage wasn’t part of my destiny, and if I hadn’t ran away I never would have found myself or became the person I am today. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kai laughs quietly, awkwardly tugging at the collar of his coat. “I never really wanted to marry you anyway.”

“Wait, what?”

“My dad was the one who came up with the idea. Ever since we were kids he’d been trying to convince your dad that an arranged marriage between us would benefit the tribe, but Chief Tukon wasn’t exactly thrilled by the prospect,” Kai explains offhandedly, as if his revelation wasn’t incriminating evidence that would prove his father was up to something. “My dad was really persistent though, and once your dad was gone he convinced your mom it would be a good idea to have someone there to look after and protect you now that your father was gone. Normally a marriage like that would be untraditional, but he said the circumstances of the situation made the proposal an exception, so she accepted. Honestly, I was kind of relieved when you ran away and the wedding was called off. I mean, no offense, you’re great, but I like us better as friends.”

“Me too,” you murmur quietly, your mind reeling at the newfound information Kai has given you. All this time you had assumed the marriage proposal had been your parents doing, so to find out that it had been Koa who had been so persistent in your marrying of his son only confirmed the fact that he had been after the throne since the beginning much like you’d suspected. Regaining the throne from Koa was going to be much harder that you initially presumed, he wouldn’t give away his power that easily, and you knew then that you wouldn’t be able to do this alone.

You rise suddenly from the table, startling Kai who watches you curiously and blushes at the chaste kiss you press to his cheek.

“I have to go, but thank you so so much for keeping me company. You have no idea how much you’ve just helped me,” you explain quickly before rushing off and sneaking away from the party, leaving Kai flustered and a bit dumbfounded.

“Uh, you’re welcome...?”

~~~

You watch the early morning sunrise from beyond the horizon, the golden rays of sunshine sparkling along the crystal blue ocean and the outer walls of the palace and reflecting off the irises of your eyes. If your calculations are correct then they should be here any minute now. You’d sent the messenger hawk with a letter of urgency for assistance shortly after your conversation with Kai, and since that night you’d anxiously been awaiting the arrival of your allies. A ship approaches in the distance and you suck in a breath, wrapping your cloak (Zuko’s cloak, actually) tighter around your frame as the icy air crystallizes almost painfully in your lungs before subsiding. They’re here.

The ship pulls up silently to the dock before lowering its ramp, and tears begin to well in your eyes at the sight of the siblings who are quick to rush towards you with open arms and wide smiles.

“Y/n!” Sokka exclaims, lifting you up off the ground in a bone crushing hug before setting you back down on your feet so that Katara may do the same.

“I’ve missed you both so much, thank you for coming on such short notice,” you say with a teary eyed smile, shifting your gaze from Sokka to Katara. “I’m sorry to have pulled you away from Aang and your work on the Harmony Restoration Movement but I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Don’t apologize. As much as I love spending time with Aang, this is more important.”

“Yeah, we left as soon as we got your message,” Sokka agrees. “I can’t believe that jerk would treat you like that after everything you’ve done for our tribe!”

“I wish more people shared your sentiment,” you say with a weak smile. “I know Koa’s up to no good, but I need the proof to convince everyone else.”

“Don’t worry, Princess. Detective Sokka is on the case!” He announces firmly only for both you and Katara to shush him. It is early, after all, so most of the tribe is still asleep, and you can’t have anyone know about your plan to remove Koa from the throne.

“What my brother means to say is we’ve got your back,” Katara says with a comforting smile.

“Thank you,” you breathe, tufts of air blowing past your lips and escaping into the air. “And you told no one about why I invited you here?”

“As far as Aang and Zuko are concerned, we’re here helping you sort through your father’s old belongings and reorganizing the palace.”

“Though, I have to admit, I feel like you maybe should have told your boyfriend about this,” Sokka notes offhandedly. You frown.

“This is water tribe business, I can’t bother Zuko with something like this, not when he has his own nation to run and rebuild. Unless things take a drastic turn we won’t be telling Zuko about Koa until it’s over and done with,” you instruct, earning head nods from an understanding Katara and a reluctant Sokka.

“Alright,” he finally sighs. “So what’s first on the agenda?”

“Katara and I are going to have to look through Koa’s things for any evidence or plans he has in regards to taking over the throne permanently. Sokka, I’m going to need you to blend in with his followers because spirits know he has a lot. Try to gather whatever inside information you can, but don’t blow your cover. You’re going to hear some nasty things about me and you can’t react to them, you have to act like you believe them too,” you explain.

“We can do it,” Katara says firmly. “I’ll even talk to my dad and see if there’s any way he can help.”

“Alright, operation Get Back the Throne is a go!” Sokka says excitedly, and you can’t help the faint smile that pulls at your lips in response.

Getting rid of Koa isn’t going to be easy, not by a long shot, but with Katara and Sokka’s help you know you can put an end to this once and for all.

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Will Miller: Sex in Publix

A/N: FINALLY writing for Will Fucking “Ironhead” Miller from Triple Frontier!!! So excited, my dears!! Here’s some smut about you helping Will recover from his violent cereal aisle incident at Publix... which results in you two having shameless public sex.

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, reference to traumatic experience, sex in public (obvs) Inspiration: WILL’S SPEECH from the opening scene of the movie. Serious big dick energy 🥵

Word Count: ~2.5k

** THE SPEECH **

Quoted from Triple Frontier’s opening scene

Parts that are referenced in this fic are in bold below. (You seriously need to watch it, though...)

About five years ago, when I was on leave... I found myself standing in the middle of the cereal aisle at the Publix... with my arm around some guy's throat. I was squeezing so hard he pissed himself. My fiancée at the time had to climb on my back just so I didn’t actually kill the guy. Do you know why I was doing this? Because he hadn’t moved his cart when I asked. I was the best of the best, able to shut down, control, manipulate... all basic human instincts towards one goal: the completion of my mission. But the effects of committing extreme violence on other human beings are biological and physiological. That’s the price of being a warrior.

Fic begins after ‘Keep reading’ ...

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

A/N: Why yes, I just inserted the same gif again, so that you have the image right above, for purposes of the description of this mouthwatering motherfucker doing his GODDAMN CHEWING GUM LOWER LIP TONGUE THING in the third paragraph 😛

“We shouldn’t even be here...”

“Will, you say that every time,” you remind your fiancé as he strolls your cart through the aisles at Publix, slowly approaching Aisle 6. You can feel him tense up now as you’re drawing near. “It’s like I told you, babe—the best way to work through your shit is to come and revisit the scene of the crime.”

“Crime?” he rolls his tongue around the piece of gum he’s chewing, lets it slide along the inside of his full pink lower lip. He knows just what he’s doing: making it bulge in a way that looks fucking delicious. That action in itself is a crime calling for arrest. “You know the guy didn’t press charges.”

“That’s because you threatened to kill him if he did. Besides, the poor bastard had just pissed all over the floor; I’m pretty sure he wasn’t going wild to include that kind of detail if he filed a police report.”

He shrugs that off with a half-laugh. Tries to ignore how he had choked a total stranger with such brutal force... simply because he hadn’t moved his cart when Will had asked. “The fact stands that I’m criminally innocent.”

“Of course. The perfect model citizen,” you can’t help but indulge him in a playful little compliment. “With model good looks, too.”

Will rolls his eyes, those eyes you constantly effuse are the most gorgeous shade of blue. He never seems to think it’s true. “Butter me up, why don’t you.”

“Like I always do.”

He cracks a smile, which quickly vanishes as you reach Aisle 6. “Speaking of which, didn’t we just finish the butter in the fridge? I’ll go and grab some; maybe you can get the cereal, then meet me in the dairy aisle...”

“Nice try, big guy—not happening. Come on,” you urge, taking a soft yet firm hold of his muscular upper arm. “What, are you scared of Cap’n Crunch or something? Man up, Captain. Don’t be a pussy ass bitch.”

“Cap’n Crunch is creepy as shit. Freaked me out as a kid,” he says with an exaggerated cringe. “But seriously, babe—you know that going back there makes me... twitch.”

“And I’ll be there to hold your hand, and talk you through it, like I always am,” you reassure him. “Will, it’s gotten better every time we visit. We’ve made real progress; it’s a process, and to be honest, I think it’s almost finished.”

He bites that luscious lip of his. “What if it isn’t.”

“Then we’ll keep trying till it is, okay? You have to trust me. Either way, we’ll hurry home, soon as we’re done... so you can fuck me.”

His eyes light up at that, just as you knew they would, and he pushes the cart straight ahead. Not afraid to admit he’s been played. “Damn does my girl know how to control and manipulate...”

“I learned from the best of the best, as they say. My big strong ironhead fiancé.”

As it turns out today, the sex will happen long before you leave the store. Neither of you will be able to wait.

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

“So. How you feeling?” you ask him, standing by his side in the spot where it happened. As he stands still and stares, you reach up to comb your fingers through the soft golden spikes of his hair, hoping that the tender loving touch will help his healing.

Will chews his gum a little harder, with a firm clench of his jaw. Blue eyes a little darker. And good God—you shouldn’t be having these thoughts, but fuck, the smoldering look on his face right now is just about the hottest thing you ever saw...

You can see the scenes replay inside his mind. Not just the incident itself, choking a random guy in Publix half to death, squeezing so hard the bastard lost his breath and pissed himself—but more importantly, the underlying cause. Years of trauma, molding Will into a man that he himself feared and despised. So many years spent searching for the kind of peace he always craved but thought he’d never find.

He tells you often how he found it in your arms; though you’re a sucker for his charms, you always brush the line aside. That shit’s just corny. And besides, he only says it when he’s horny... which is all the fucking time.

One of the many things that you two have in common. Ever since Will Miller claimed you as his woman, the two of you have been getting it on so fucking often that it’s probably a crime.

You try to stop your mind from wandering in that direction. Will needs to process heavy shit right now and you’re supposed to help him. Shouldn’t get distracted by your own lady erection, as you silently admire him in all his alpha male perfection... mind burning with questions—like, but how the hell can it even be possible to be so fucking beautiful...?

His hands aren’t twitching in the way that often happens when he’s here, but still, he’s awfully tense and quieter than usual. Maybe it’s time to head out of the cereal aisle; return some other time, after a little while. You hold him close to whisper in his ear, stroking his arm with a warmhearted smile. “Listen, babe—if you don’t want to talk... then let’s go home and crack open some beer, or a bottle of wine... I’ll suck your cock, and everything will be just fine. I’m proud of you for coming here today. Now let’s get out of here so you can come someplace better, okay?”

Now at that, Will at last has a few words to say. He snaps out of his self-hating haze and attacks you just with the sheer power of his deep blue gaze. “Mmm, you mean like deep inside my filthy little whore of a fiancée?”

You feign offense, reacting with a gasp, dealing his upper arm a playful little slap. “Captain Miller! What gives you the right to talk to me like that—in public, no less? Show some damn respect.”

He answers with a flirty, dirty laugh. “Respect my ass.”

“I do, and you know that. It’s perfect,” you remind him as you reach around to grab it through his pants, loving the way the sculpted muscle tenses up beneath your hands. “And I respect it even better when it’s naked, so let’s get—”

“Gimme a minute,” he interrupts you with a kiss on the top of your head. “You know, before you started talking all that frisky business... I was just about to tell you that I think we’re finally finished. Babe, you did it.”

You pause, dropping your jaw—does he mean what you think he does? Now that the tone is back to serious, you free his fine ass from the grasp of your horny claws. “...did it?”

Will smiles and nods. “I know my stubborn ass kept resisting these visits. But you were right, babe. Like always. I think I’ve finally gotten past this shit. I mean—not all my shit; that’s a serious beast. But the whole Publix incident, at least. I just... today I finally felt released. At peace with it.”

There are no words to capture how giddy you feel. You wrap your arms around his neck with an excited squeal, heartbeat happily racing. “Babe, that’s amazing! We did it. I may be the one with all the brilliant ideas, but you were smart enough to listen.”

He lets out a soft giggle, hugging you so hard it tickles. “I still say you get all the credit. Manipulating me with all those promises of sex the way you did. Straight up forcing me into submission.”

“Oh, don’t put it that way. Now let’s not forget who’s the dom in the bedroom. Promise you’ll always play Captain, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles. “Whatever you say.”

The one thing on your mind as you snuggle into his embrace is this man smells like actual heaven... hot damn. You pull back from the hug, desperate to get home and get fucked. But there’s still one more thing to get out of the way.

You make some effort to compose yourself before what’s coming next. “Oh, and before we go—there’s something else I wanted you to know. Now that your issue’s been addressed... well, I also have something to confess.”

After those words, you pause for longer than you should. Which isn’t good.

“Go on?” Will holds your hand and gives you an encouraging, heartwarming nod.

Ugh, he’s so cute when he’s all soft and full of love. Despite being so big and tough. All at once a sugar baby muffin and a savage fucking sex god.

You clear your throat, collecting your slightly embarrassing thoughts. “So, when the whole... incident happened, in the moments just before I climbed onto your back, to pull you off of that poor man, I was just—watching you attack... and... well, at first I didn’t even know how to react, because... uhhh...”

Those blue eyes of his blink, and you can barely even think. Apparently you have a goddamn golden eyelash kink?

Will tries to urge you to continue; though it’s clear he’s quite sincere, he’s also more than just a little bit amused. He always loves to see you bumbling like a fool and acting totally uncool. He says it’s super cute. “Because what?”

You re-clear your throat, though it’s all clear already. Try to stay somewhat calm and steady. Keep your hormones in control. You are in public after all; people can see you even if they’re out of earshot. “I don’t know, it’s just—watching you do that was... I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was fucked up, and yes I knew it had to stop—but it was also... you know... super fucking hot?”

He blinks again, brows arching up a bit. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Y/N, I... I was out of my damn mind. Completely out of line. Like, deadly dangerous.”

“Oh, you think I didn’t notice?”

“No, I know you did...”

Fucking hell. You pull your hand from his and turn toward the shelves, grabbing a random box of cereal to occupy yourself. “Now you’re kink-shaming me. Never done that before, but now the truth comes out that I’m a sick and twisted whore—”

“What? Y/N, come on,” he groans, wrapping his arms around you from behind, the kind of big bear hug that always feels like home. “You know that isn’t how I meant it...”

“No, forget it. Just forget I ever said it.”

“Can’t really do that, to be honest. Babe, I’m into all your kinks, I promise. I just need a sec to process this.”

“Seriously—Will, this whole cereal aisle shouldn’t be about me. Even just mentioning it like I did was selfish. So forget it.”

“I’m not gonna just...”

“Hey, I have an idea,” you interrupt, eager to change the subject, as you now notice that you’d just happened to pick a box of Cap’n Crunch. With the creepy cartoon captain’s face emblazoned on the front. “What if you need a final outlet? Just to let off any steam that might be lingering, to make sure that you’ve really gotten over the whole cereal aisle incident?”

Will purrs as he leans closer into your shoulder. You stupidly assume he’s also looking at the cereal box you’re holding, but he isn’t. “Hmmm, you thinking what I’m thinking...?”

As it happens, you’re totally oblivious to what he just implied, since you’re still trying to recover from embarrassment. You step off to the side, pulling away from his embrace so that you’re standing face to face. And hold the box in front of you like it’s a martial arts board made for him to break. “Here, if you need something to punch... why don’t you let it out on Cap’n Crunch.”

He blinks, again, apparently a little stunned. You’re too oblivious to even notice that he has a hard on.

You gesture toward the crunchy cap’n. “Go on. Clock him one.”

Will shifts uncomfortably in an attempt to hide the stiffness of his cock. “Punch a cereal box? Babe, this is fucking ridiculous...”

“This creepy bastard haunted you throughout your childhood,” you remind him. “Come on, do it, Will. Show him who’s captain. You know it’ll feel good.”

He tosses a quick glance behind him to make sure that no one’s around to witness. “Can’t believe I’m gonna do this, but if you insist...”

Balling his right hand up into a fist, he fucking launches it at the cartoon son of a bitch. You know he didn’t go full force—the blow would’ve thrust you and Cap’n both across the room, of course—but he went hard enough to cause the cardboard box serious damage.

Will looks down at the damage he caused to his childhood nemesis, more pleased with it than he’d like to admit. “Well, shit.”

You flash him a triumphant grin, glad for the win. “Felt great, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did,” he laughs at himself with a shake of his head. “But the box is all busted.”

“Well, we are model citizens, so we’re obviously going to take responsibility and pay for this,” you tell him. “And William—don’t even think about bitching that Cap’n Crunch isn’t a worthwhile purchase. The catharsis that he just provided was worth it.”

Your fiancé is fully in agreement with that sentiment. “Sounds perfect.”

Moving toward your shopping cart, you pause before throwing the box in, stopping to salute the captain with one hand over your heart. “We thank you, Cap’n, for your service.”

Will lets out one of his loud, loving laughs and hugs you from the back again. “My God, you’re such a fucking dork...”

You shrug, melting into the hug. “Well, my dorky ass just singlehandedly took care of your entire healing process. So don’t knock it if it worked.”

“Oh, I wasn’t gonna knock it,” Will replies, suddenly spinning you around with your back up against the shelves, so you can see and feel the feral fire in his eyes. You practically just wet yourself. Even more so upon the words he utters next. “I was just thinking that I really wanna fuck it.”

Holy hell. This man is living breathing sex. Your words come out all jumbled up and shit. “What—how... you mean right now? In public?”

Will grinds his hips into your crotch so you can finally feel the stiffness of his dick. God, it’s so big. His every word and action never fail to make your pussy twitch. “Hmm, what is that I’m hearing... judgment? Are you kink-shaming me, bitch?”

Hot damn, you love how playfully sadistic your fiancé is. “No, I wouldn’t fucking dream of it. I love it,” you respond, succumbing to the force of his cock and the heat of your cunt. For good measure before you both give yourselves over to such guilty pleasure, to everything both of you want, you glance nervously up and down Aisle 6.

All is clear at the moment. And if that unexpectedly changes... you know there’s a risk, the constant threat of danger of onlooking strangers... well, fuck it. You and Will won’t let that stop you from indulging in some shameless sex in Publix.

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

... Continued in Part 2!

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