#She could have fixed me 20 years early if I came upon her then

[teal-sharky]

#Tw*tter #MTG #transgender #gay #kissing #She could have fixed me 20 years early if I came upon her then

[peakyswritings]

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART VI

Summary: After the events of the previous day, Tommy and Nina are forced to come to terms with a truth they have refused to acknowledge for far too long.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of attempted assault, no proofreading, English is not my first language. This is set between season 1 and 2.

A/N: like in the last chapter, there are some dialogues which are supposed to be in Italian, which I chose to write in English for the sake of the readers (and mine, ‘cause otherwise I should’ve translated lots of stuff). In this case, it is the second dialogue between Nina and her mother. I’m sorry for the long wait, and thank you for bearing with me!

PREVIOUS PART

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credit

Dividers credit

The first light of the morning filtered through the lace curtains of the kitchen window, bathing the room in a warm glow. Holding a cup of coffee in her hands, Nina stared into space, the events of the night before repeatedly playing in her mind. Tommy’s touch still lingered against her cheek, hesitant and tender as he touched her with a gentleness she had never known before. A gentleness that made her lean even closer, eager to feel more of the bare brushing of their lips, that made her wonder what it would feel like if she allowed herself to melt into him. His strong body seemed like a safe space, like something steady and reliable. But that warm, unfamiliar feeling was soon replaced by the blast of cold that suddenly hit her when he moved away.

How could she have been so stupid?

She had let her emotions get the best of her, and humiliated herself for nothing. It wasn’t him that she wanted. What she wanted was to get rid of the skin-crawling feeling that Stefano’s hands had left on her, so she had clung to the first person who had offered her a hint of safety and comfort. What a fool she had been, for forgetting that the only person who could ever bring her safety and comfort was herself. For letting Stefano mess her up once again. It was all a game of power to him, he had played her like a pawn, and she had fell for it. Because Stefano did what he did to let her know that he could do everything he wanted to her, if he just decided to. With the blood boiling in her veins, she promised to herself she wouldn’t let him hold that much power over her, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her cave. She’d go on as if nothing happened, but without forgetting what he did. And when the right time came, she’d make him regret ever daring to lay his filthy hands on her. He had tormented her for years, tried to force her into a marriage, scared and threatened her in her own home, a place where she was supposed to be safe. He would pay for that.

“Sei già sveglia?” (You’re up already?)

Her mother’s voice pulled Nina out of her thoughts, and only then did she realise how tight her hold around the cup’s handle had become. She loosened her grip, a sigh escaping her lips as the pain of her own nails digging in her palm eased. Sinking lower in her seat, she fixed her gaze upon a crack in the wooden table, well aware that she couldn’t escape Maria Ferrante’s ever-observant eye. “Sono andata a letto presto, ieri.” (I went to bed early, yesterday.)

The older woman walked further into the kitchen, squinting her eyes as if she had spotted something. Still carefully avoiding her gaze, Nina watched her get closer from under her lashes, until she stopped right in front of her. She let out a groan as her mother took ahold of her chin to get a better look at her face. “Che hai in faccia?” (What’s that?)

Nina gulped, her mind trying to find an excuse for the scratch that Stefano had left when he had dug his fingernails in her cheek. “È stato Winston,” she professed, turning her head to free herself from her mother’s grip. (It was Winston.)

The woman mumbled some curses towards the poor animal that, for once, was actually innocent.

“È stata colpa mia,” Nina quickly added. “L’ho fatto arrabbiare.” (It was my fault, I made him angry.)

Maria Ferrante pursed her lips in disapproval, and a frown appeared on those once beautiful features, which had started to wither way too soon under the weight of the years and of a life devoted to caring for others and never herself.

Nina had to restrain herself from breathing a sigh of relief when her mother walked over to the cupboard, letting the matter drop. But as she watched her bustling about to make breakfast for everyone, she was overwhelmed by a mounting sense of unease. It was a familiar feeling, one that had been accompanying her for as long as she could remember, yet she had never been able to figure it out. It usually rose without warning, making her head spin, sending her into a state of distress that made her feel physically sick, and she got the impression there was something deeply wrong with her life. After years of dealing with it, she had found a pattern, and she had realised that most of the times - although not always - it was connected to her mother.

All her life, Nina had feared to become like her. Always silent, always compliant as she let her husband and sons treat her like a slave, pretending not to notice the way they unconsciously looked down on her - because she was not clever, she was ignorant, she wasn’t even able to read or write. She was a wife and a mother before being a person. They loved her, but they loved her like something that belonged to them. And deep down, Nina knew she was loved the same way.

She knew the opinion they had of her was not that distant from the one they had of her mother. It didn’t matter that she had finished school, it didn’t matter how much she kept on studying and learning on her own, it didn’t matter how much she tried to prove that she was capable. She was always a woman. That limitation was the wall the stood between her and the world, and the more she tried to climb over it or walk around it, the taller and wider it grew.

To some extent, in her family, Nina was already her mother.

Standing in front of the mirror in the room that had become his in the last couple of weeks, Tommy straightened his tie, his gaze scanning his whole figure to make sure nothing was out of place. His face was freshly shaved, his suit neatly pressed, his shoes polished. The only jarring note were the purple shadows under his eyes, proof of a sleepless night. Ever since he had left Nina’s room, he had been tormented by a strange feeling of restlessness. He had hardly closed his eyes, his mind relentlessly circling around everything that had been happening in the last month, and everything that was to come. But in that endless vortex, one thought emerged above all others. How was she?

The question nagged at him, making it impossible for him to shift his attention on any other subject. From the moment he had met her, Nina had seemed to him an unbreakable force. She was fierce, and untamable, with a fire in her eyes mighty enough to burn whole cities to the ground. That was why, when he witnessed her vulnerability, he was almost surprised to see that she, too, could be fragile. But with that fragility came a whole different wilfulness, a stubborn refusal to bend that made her even more ardent. More beautiful. And he wondered how many more sides of herself she kept hidden.

Almost a month had passed since his arrival in Sicily, and during time, she had slowly made her way into his head, clouding his judgment. Because he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about her, not when he was courting her cousin. Not when the decision had been made. But the events of that day had put him in front of a truth he had refused to acknowledge, a truth that made him feel something too close to fear.

Last last night more than ever, he couldn’t take his mind off her, off her scent, off the feeling of her soft hair brushing against his skin. Did she have any idea how hard it had been for him to pull away? That he had only left her room because otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to restrain himself any longer? That, had she been in a less vulnerable position, he wouldn’t have hesitated to do what every cell in his body was begging him to do?

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself. There was no need to make things more difficult than they already were. He opened the drawer of his bedside table, revealing the velvety box that had been closed there for far too long. He reached for it and opened it to take a look at the ring he had bought along the necklace he had gifted Agnese a few weeks earlier, when he had declared his intention to marry her. The big diamond ring seemed to stare back at him, and his stomach clenched at the thought that it was time to do what he was expected to do. He snapped the box shut and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket, telling himself there was no point in dwelling on things that had no chance to exist.

As he headed downstairs, the sound of Nina’s voice came to his ears, and his nerves started tingling with anticipation. How would she act, now? How was he supposed to act? Should he ask her how she was, or should he pretend nothing had happened, just like she told him?

He could tell there was a whole story behind what had happened with Stefano the previous day, one that he wasn’t aware of, and part of him wanted to ask her. The other part, however, feared that she might close off again, and that all the steps forward that they had taken would be erased, taking them back where they started.

Before Tommy could cross the living room, Nina came out of the kitchen, too lost in thought to notice him, at first. But once she did, she stopped in her tracks, and an unreadable expression spread over her features. For the next few seconds, they just looked at each other in complete silence, waiting for the other to say something. The small scratch on her face caught his eye, suddenly taking him back to last night, when he had ran his knuckle over it with a softness he didn’t know he possessed, when he had got the impression that her cheek had been made just to fit perfectly in the palm of his rough hand. How close she had been…

“Good morning.” Nina’s voice harshly brought him back to reality, and it was like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him.

Tommy cleared his voice, struck by an odd feeling of guilt for indulging further in those thoughts. “Morning,” he murmured, recollecting himself. He had to remember where he was, and where his priorities stood. But it was so hard when the warmth of her body so close to his was imprinted on him, and when he could still feel the way her lips had barely brushed against his.

“I’m having lunch at Agnese’s house today,” he blurted out before he could think about what he was saying. And maybe his words had some kind of effect on her, but she was so quick to hide it that he figured he had probably imagined it.

Nina nodded, hoping that whatever she was feeling in that moment wasn’t written all over her face. She wasn’t even sure what it was that she was feeling, she just knew that she didn’t like it. And that it wasn’t right.

Tommy was going to propose.

That awareness knocked the air out of her lungs, and she cursed herself for feeling like that. It was wrong. And she had no right. She had to get a grip and take control of those emotions, before they irreversibly took control of her. Tommy’s icy stare seemed to be piercing right through her, making it impossible for her to focus and formulate some coherent sentence. Fucking blue eyes.

“Good,” it was all she could manage to utter.

Another heavy silence fell down upon them, and the words they really wanted to say - the words they didn’t even have the courage to tell themselves - were left hanging in the air, where they would vanish, sooner or later. Because the things left unsaid would never be real.

In the late afternoon, sitting at the kitchen table, Nina tried to keep herself busy by reading a book, but the words seemed to vanish right in front of her eyes one by one. She was too agitated to read. According to what her brothers had told her before leaving the house earlier that day, the men of the family were currently holding a meeting Tommy Shelby at Agnese’s house. They had mentioned something about Sabini and the next moves, but she had only half-listened to them, her mind occupied by something else entirely. Looking out the window, she glanced at the house on the opposite side of the shared garden, the urge to know what was happening inside it growing with each moment that passed.

“He hasn’t proposed.” Maria Ferrante stormed into the kitchen, carrying a basket full of freshly-picked figs.

Nina blinked, her train of thoughts interrupted by her mother for the second time that day. “What?”

“Mr Shelby hasn’t proposed to Agnese,” she clarified, placing the basket on the table with a thud. Under her daughter’s disconcerted stare, she took some of the figs and walked over to the sink to wash them with hasty, agitated movements. “The poor girl’s desperate, she thinks she has done something wrong.”

It took Nina more than a moment to process her mother’s words, but once she did, it took her way less to realise what that might mean. For her, for Agnese, for the future of her family. As her mind began to race in an all too familiar way, her eyes quickly scanned the room in search for something to focus on in order not to slip into the whirlpool of scattered thoughts, but the clatter caused by the older woman’s fumbling with the cutlery only added to the frenzied state of her brain. Her heart pounded in her chest, drumming in her ears, and she found herself jiggling her leg up and down to ease the tension. Finally, her attention was grabbed by the clock hanging on the wall, and in the second hand her restless gaze found something to hold on to. With each second that passed, her heart decreased its speed and the noise in her mind quietened, bringing her some relief. Closing her eyes, she exhaled a breath, glad to be back in control of herself. “This whole thing was a mistake,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

Even though she was facing away from her mother, Nina could tell she had halted, because the fuss suddenly stopped. “What do you mean?” She asked, but before her daughter had the chance to answer, she placed a plate with some figs cut in half in front of her. “Eat.”

At first, Nina scrunched her nose, sure that the mere sight of food would be enough make her stomach turn. Ever since the events of the previous day, it had been too knotted up for her to feel hungry. However, as soon as the delicious smell of the fruits filled her nostrils her appetite awoke, and she was quick to take a bite. The sweet pulp melted on her tongue, and the sensation almost made her forget what she was about to say. “I mean,” she spoke again after eating the first piece. “That it isn’t the Shelbys we should’ve tried to form an alliance with.”

Her mother’s eyebrows shot upwards, and a disapproving expression made its way on her face. “These things are not our concern,” she reproachfully pointed a finger at her daughter, sitting on a chair in front of her. “Your father and your uncles are doing-”

“They’re doing all the wrong things.” Nina interrupted her, slightly raising her voice. “And it is our concern. It’s our life, we should have a say in it.”

“Your father knows what’s best for this family.”

“Does he?”

Maria Ferrante crossed her arms over her chest, averting her eyes from her daughter’s, and the silence that followed gave Nina the chance to go on. “This was a mistake, you know it too,” she added, lowering her voice again. “You might fool dad by pretending you know nothing about this business, but you can’t fool me.”

A strange glimpse crossed her mother’s eyes at her words, but it didn’t last more than an instant. Her features hardened again, and it was like that subtle, ephemeral emotion had never been there. “What I think is not important.”

This time, it was Nina who chose not to reply. It was useless, after all. Her mother had spent her whole life convinced that all she was born to do was to take care of someone else, without ever being able to make a single decision for herself, or voice her thoughts, and that conviction was too deeply rooted inside her to be eradicated.

“You’re a lucky girl, Nina. You shouldn’t forget that.” Maria leaned over the table, looking her daughter right in the eyes. “Take a look around you. You have a big, nice house with a big, nice garden, and a room you can call your own. You have never known misery, nor hunger,” she paused, her gaze becoming absent, as if getting lost in some old memory. She then leaned back in her chair, staring at a point in front of her. “It feels like bites. Hunger, I mean.”

Nina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, letting those words sink in. Although her mother’s stark expression gave nothing away, she sensed that some old, unforgotten pain was begging to be acknowledged, and she could almost feel that pain as if it were her own.

Coming back to her senses, Maria fixed her eyes on her daughter again, her gaze displaying a fierceness that appeared almost odd on her face. “You don’t know it. You haven’t even known it during the war. That’s all thanks to your father, and what he does.”

Nina watched quietly as mother got up from her chair, starting to busy herself with what needed tidying up. “He does what he does for us. Be grateful, and don’t question his decisions.” Her voice took on a stern tone, one that brooked no arguments, indicating that the discussion was over. “And eat,” she ordered, nodding toward the plate.

Pouring the tea she had just made in a cup, Nina glanced at the clock. Midnight had passed a long time ago, but once again her brain was keeping her up, preventing her from getting some much needed sleep. She’d had lots of time to think, though, and the long, relaxing bath she had taken had helped her free her mind for a while. She could see things more clearly, now.

Her first fear had been that Tommy might decide to go on with the war, but after pondering the subject, she had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t an option. He had proposed an alliance because he knew he had no chance of winning that war, the attacks to his pubs and his men were the proof. Not to mention that if he were to decide to call everything off he would be killed on the spot. The Peaky Blinder Devil was surrounded by potential enemies, with not a single man by his side, and he had willingly put himself in that position.

Because he was not afraid to die.

That was the answer to all of her questions, the missing piece that had prevented her from fully understanding why her family feared him so much, to the point of not even considering to form an alliance with Sabini instead. Tommy Shelby was not afraid to die, therefore, he had no limitations.

But the more she seemed to be close to figuring him out, the more questions rose, and Nina couldn’t explain why - despite all her efforts not to think about him - her mind was so adamant on trying to unravel the mystery that was Tommy Shelby. She had started because she didn’t trust him, because she wanted to know what his true intentions were, because she wanted to try and anticipate his moves - something that the men of her family seemed to fail at. Now she just couldn’t stop, for what she had found was so far from what she had expected.

She couldn’t explain the deep connection she felt to him, a connection that perhaps had always been there, since the very beginning, when all she seemed to feel for him was spite. Even then, there was something drawing them towards one another, forcing them to keep on bickering and bantering, to look for those apparently insignificant quarrels and challenges. Then there were their secret meetings, those nights where time seemed to stand still, where he wasn’t Tommy Shelby, and she wasn’t Nina Ferrante, and they were almost normal people, and they were allowed to let their masks fall. She remembered every laugh he had drawn from of her with the stories of his childhood, every smile she had managed to coax out of him with her witty retorts. And she had learned he was not a Devil, like everybody called him. Behind his steely glare and the layers of ice that protected him like an armour, he was very much human.

There must’ve been a reason why every night since the first casual encounter they had left their rooms in the hope of just enjoying each other’s company. There must’ve been a reason why their eyes begged to meet every time they were in the same room, and their hands longed for the slightest touch. There must’ve been a reason why she was standing there, hoping he would walk through that door.

But that reason didn’t matter. Because in the light of the day, he was Tommy Shelby, she was Nina Ferrante, and he would marry her cousin. Soon he would go back to Birmingham, and she would stay there, going back to the life she had grown to despise. The seas between them would erase the invisible string that seemed to bind them together, and she would forget how he had made her laugh, how she had made him smile. And it would be as if her soul had never met his.

Nina’s heart increased its speed when she heard the footsteps that had become now familiar to her, and she had to remind herself that night wouldn’t be like the others. She had to push him away, restore the distance between them before it was too late. If they crossed that line, there would be no going back.

Silently, Tommy entered the kitchen. All the spontaneity their relationship had acquired over the weeks was gone, and he was unsure how to behave. He didn’t even know what had brought him there again, after he had told himself he had to stop thinking about her. Maybe the same thing that had kept him from proposing to Agnese.

Nina was standing near the table, pouring her usual awful amount of honey in her steaming cup of tea. Leaning against the doorframe, Tommy allowed himself a moment to admire the way the white cotton of her nightgown brought out her tan skin and dark hair. She seemed off guard, but he knew she was aware of his presence. Once she was done, she gazed at him, and her fiery eyes shone in the dim light, pinning him right where he stood.

“I was thirsty,” he explained after a moment of hesitation, walking further into the room.

Without saying a word, Nina took a glass from one of the cabinets and poured water in it. When she handed it to him, her fingers brushed against his, and shivers of electricity raced across his skin. With the proximity, he was engulfed by the scent of lavender and honey that had been plaguing him in his sleep, making him long for something he could never have.

He would never feel anything like that with Agnese.

Nina took a few steps back, breaking the bubble that formed every time they were close to each other. Tommy tightened his grip around the glass for a second, then placed it on the table. He didn’t need to pretend it hadn’t been just an excuse to see her. He searched for something to say, but Nina beat him to it, and what she said next felt like a stab through his chest.

“You should propose to Agnese.”

She wasn’t even looking at him. She was cold, distant, almost like the day they had met. Taken aback by her sudden statement, Tommy blinked, hoping he had misheard. “What?”

“You’ve been courting her long enough,” she said bitterly.

Nina’s words aroused a certain anger in Tommy, the same anger he felt every time he sensed that his hand was being forced. But it wasn’t just anger, there was something else with that. “It’s not your place to decide-”

“It is my fucking place,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. “This is my family. And the more we wait, the more we give Sabini the time to act against us.”

Tommy’s expression changed, and all the annoyance she had read moments before on his face gave way to something else. He raised his eyebrows in a mocking way, taking a look around before shifting his gaze on her again. “So you’ve finally admitted it,” he he said, and the shadow of a smug smirk appeared on his face.

“Admitted what?” She seethed.

“That your family needs my family.”

Nina snorted, fighting the urge to slap the smugness out of his face. Even in a serious situation, he couldn’t resist looking for a way to get under her skin.

“That’s not the point,” she argued, averting her eyes from his. “The point is - it’s time to get this over with.” The more she spoke, the harder it became to keep her voice steady, but she did it nonetheless, attempting to sound as convincing as she could. Maybe she’d end up convincing herself as well. “And this…thing that we’re doing,” she paused, the words burning in her throat as she uttered them. “It has to stop.”

Something flashed across Tommy’s features, and Nina instantly regretted addressing the topic. A strange tension fell into the room as his face became serious again.

“This thing,” he emphasised, as if pondering her words. The way his deep voice echoed in the silence of the room awakened something inside her, and heat crept up cheeks. “Tell me,” he squinted his eyes, starting to walk in her direction with slow, measured steps. “What is it that we’re doing?”

The breath hitched in her throat, but Nina stood still in her place, forcing herself to bear his gaze. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” he repeated, nodding to himself. He took another step forward, looking down at her with a hint of challenge in his eyes, almost daring her to deny what was right in front of them one more time. She was now trapped between his body and the table, and the closeness alone was enough to make his nerves tingle.

“Tommy, please,” she whispered.

God, had she ever called him by his name before? The way it rolled off her lips, along with her intoxicating scent and the feeling of her warm body - too close to ignore it but still too far away to feel it completely - threatened to destroy the last shred of his self-control. It was hanging by a thread, a thread that was about to snap at any given moment.

He tucked an unruly strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, then his large hand travelled down the side of her neck, his thumb gently rubbing against the delicate skin of her throat. She quivered almost imperceptibly, and her eyes lit up in a way that ignited his whole being. And the thread did snap. His hand went to grab the nape of her neck, and he crashed his lips against hers in a desperate, almost harsh kiss.

But it didn’t take Tommy more than a few seconds to regain control of his instincts. He pulled away, sucking in a sharp breath as he was hit by the realisation of what he had just done. His jaw twitched when his gaze met Nina’s wide eyes, and an overwhelming sense of guilt - way more powerful than the one he had felt that morning - started to weigh on his conscience. Then, as if the contact of their skin had burned him, he let his hand fall and took a step back. He tried to utter an apology, but no sound came out of his mouth. For an amount of time that seemed to stretch into eternity, neither of them did anything, and the possibility of having scared her only added to Tommy’s feeling of guilt. But a second glance was enough to realise it wasn’t fear that was painted on Nina’s face. Before he had the chance to say something, she closed the distance between them, grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss. After the initial surprise, he was quick to wrap his arms around her, bringing her closer, eager to feel every inch of her body pressing against him. Her soft mouth moved against his tenderly, with a bit of hesitation that made his head spin. Their tongues danced together as he took control of the kiss, and he felt like he could melt right there in her arms. And as much as he wanted to restrain himself, to handle her more delicately, he couldn’t. He had waited far too long.

Tommy’s scent invaded Nina’s nostrils, clouding her senses, and she feared her knees might give out as he kissed her like a man starved. It was passionate, sensual, and lit a fire inside her she had never felt before. And despite everything, it felt right. Nothing had ever felt so right like the feeling of his strong frame against her.

But it wasn’t right. In a moment of clarity, Nina reluctantly broke their kiss, her lips still brushing against Tommy’s. Catching her breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to quieten the turmoil inside for her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

With great gentleness, Tommy grabbed her chin, raising her face so that she would look at him. “I’m not.”

NEXT PART

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4 @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @areyenotfondofmelobster

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. I also gave him some anxiety and stuff because while he's in love he doesn't believe someone could love him back. He just has a lot of uncertainty with romance. A/N: I think this is going to end around chapter 20. I'm working on 18 right now. There will be one shots, however. Sunny and Buggy aren't over, just the main story.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 14

“You have everything?”

“Yes, Miss Pins.”

“You know, you can come back if you ever need to.”

“I know, thank you.”

Miss Pins shot a glare in Buggy's direction. He was waiting by the door and straightened up when he caught her glaring at him. He crossed his arms and glared back.

“If I catch wind of you mistreating her, I will bring hell down upon you, Buggy.” Miss Pins warned. Buggy rolled his eyes but couldn't help but feel a bit unsettled by the intensity of the old woman's glare. “Do you understand? If you even so much as make her cry I will find out.”

“I would never!” Buggy shot back. 

“I'll be fine, Miss Pins.” You insisted. “Really.” You looked over at Buggy with a smile, and when he saw that he relaxed just a bit as he started blushing. “You know he's not like any other pirate you've met.”

“That's definitely true.” She agreed. Buggy frowned at that, wondering if that was meant to be insulting.

“Listen here you old-”

“Buggy! We should get going, yea?” You said as you gave your boss a hug. “We're heading to my parents for the reunion. I haven't written to tell them the news.”

“Oh, so you're going to surprise them with… him.” Miss Pins said as she pulled back from the hug, gesturing to Buggy. “Well, it will definitely be a surprise.”

“Yea! A wonderful surprise.” You said as you looked back at Buggy. “They're going to love him.”

Miss Pins didn't say anything else, just crossed her arms as she glared at Buggy. She was happy for you, of course, but why Buggy over every other man? What on earth did you see in him that made you start to fall in love and agree to marry him? She couldn't understand.

Benji was up in his room moping, having already said his goodbyes. If he came downstairs and saw Buggy there’d be no telling what he would end up saying to him. He didn't want you to leave, he wanted you to stay forever, but that wasn't possible.

You went to grab your things but Buggy grabbed them first, shooting a glare at your boss while you opened the door for him. You gave her one last wave before you stepped out of the shop one last time. 

~

It was going to be an adjustment for the two of you. Buggy wanted to treat you like a Queen, feeling you should do nothing and just relax all day. You, on the other hand, already cleaned his room, organized his wardrobe to make room for your things, and already knew where everything was in the kitchen to the point you knew what was on hand before the cook did. All within a week of living on the ship.

He couldn't understand why you didn't want to just rest and relax for a while. 

You started a mending basket for the crew as well, telling them to put things in there that needed any fixing. That shocked Buggy. You were not a member of the crew, you were going to be his wife and you shouldn't be working at all for him.

You also unearthed those photos that he showed you while drunk on his birthday.

“You said his name was Shanks, right?” You said after the first week while you made him dinner. The cook was fine to let you cook Buggy's meals now, it was one less person to worry about. Buggy had just taken a large swallow of his drink before choking at your question. He managed to spit it out, coughing and sputtering before looking at you, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. You pulled a picture from your pocket and set it on the table.

“Where did you find that?!” He demanded as he grabbed it and stuffed it in his own pocket. “You don't need to see that!”

“But you were so cute as a kid, Buggy!” You insisted as you checked on the potatoes that were boiling on the stove. “And you mentioned that you and him were on a ship together once, and I'm curious what ship it was.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he took a cautious drink. Buggy wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about it, but he was in love with you, it was kind of fair that he tells you somethings about himself (when he's sober), so he sighed and finished off his drink, slamming the empty bottle on the table. You replaced it with a fresh one within seconds and his eyes widened slightly as he looked up at you lovingly.

“Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Just the ship name, honey.” You chuckled as you kissed him on the forehead. 

“Fine.” He mumbled. He opened the bottle and took a sip before responding. “I was an apprentice on the Oro Jackson.”

“Really?!” You looked impressed by that and Buggy straightened up in his chair a bit, grinning up at you as he tipped the bottle back, swallowing some drink before setting the bottle down on the table.

“I was an apprentice under Captain Roger.” He continued. For as flashy as he could be, talking about his past wasn't something he was keen on doing, but the way you were looking at him spurned him on. “For a while, until the crew was disbanded and he was caught.”

“That's amazing, Buggy!” You said, smiling brightly. “No wonder you're an amazing pirate, you worked under the King of the Pirates himself!”

His cheeks burned at your compliment and he looked up at you with a frown. There was never any ill intent with your questions and curiosity when it came to him, but he couldn't help but feel a bit guarded. You lowered the heat on the potatoes before checking on the meat that was roasting. Buggy kept his eyes on you as he took another drink of rum.

“Why didja wanna know the ship’s name?” He asked. You looked over at him, confused by his question. “Why didja wanna know about Shanks?”

“Because you showed me those pictures on your birthday.” You reminded him as you checked on the potatoes next. “And you said the two of you were best friends as kids, so I got curious about you when you were younger.”

Buggy looked away from you, gripping the beer bottle tightly. “Don't ask about him.”

“Buggy-”

“Don't.” He hissed, tone catching you off guard. You paused for a moment, considering your next actions carefully, before you walked over to him and touched his shoulder gently. He turned his head and looked up at you before straightening up in his chair to wrap his arms around your middle. You put your hands on his shoulders and sighed softly.

“I won't ask again, Buggy.” You assured him. “I'm sorry I upset you.”

He shook his head, mumbling against your stomach as he hid his face against it. This had become his favorite way to hug you, sitting down so you stood over him, rubbing his shoulders or his back, sometimes running your fingers through his hair. His favorite place was being in your arms in some way, and since moving onto the ship and into his bed he made sure he falls asleep and wakes up in your arms each morning and you've yet to turn him down. 

~

It took a few weeks to get to your parents. As the ship drew nearer, you became more excited about seeing your family again and introducing Buggy to them. The size of your family was quite intimidating but you assured him he just needed to meet your parents and that no one else mattered. 

And while you were excited, he was nervous, though he tried not to show it. What if your parents refused to let you marry him? What if they didn't think he was good enough, or thought he was a joke? You had mentioned your mother had served under Red Leg Zeff while she was a pirate, so was she going to be judging him and his own successes? Would your dad like him or would he think Buggy should pack his bags and move on?

And as the island came into view and you squealed in excitement upon seeing it, Buggy tried not to fall apart right then. He waited until you were getting ready for bed the night before you were going to arrive and when he told you how he was feeling, he thought you would tell him to suck it up, deal with it, he was meeting your parents and that he needed to be on his best behavior or else you wouldn't marry him.

Why did he always think the worst with you? Because no sooner that he finished freaking out, your arms were around him and holding him tightly to you, letting him slump against you as he tried to take a deep breath.

“Just be yourself, Buggy.” You told him as you kissed his cheek. “My parents will love you.”

“But what if-”

“I'm sorry you're stressing over this, honey, but my mom isn't going to judge you, if anything if you tell her you knew Gold Roger she'll be impressed.” You assured him as you tightened your arms around him. “And you do not have to get their blessing to marry me.”

“You sure?” He mumbled, tilting his head up to look at you. You nodded, smiling softly as you gave him a kiss.

“Promise.” You said. “You say I'm nice and that's why you fell in love with me, well, my parents are just as nice, Buggy, so please don't worry.” You put your hand on his cheek caressing softly before leaning down to bump your forehead against this gently. “If it becomes too much at any time, we can leave.”

Buggy frowned. You would leave your family reunion for him? Why? You talked about it almost non-stop since getting on his ship and he knew how much it meant to you, he couldn't ruin it. He needed to get it together. Why was he so nervous anyways? He could meet your family, impress them with tales of adventures on the sea; he was a pirate after all while your mom was retired from the life. Surely she'd be impressed.

He cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Nah, babe, don't worry about me. I can handle it.”

You looked at him with a smile, reaching up to twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. He was so cute sometimes. You wanted him to have an out if he needed too, because even you got a little overwhelmed by the size of the family, especially with you being the eldest cousin. Buggy had no idea what was in store for him once the ship arrived.

“I know you can, honey, but I just want you to know I'm okay if either of us need a break.” It was hard to stop playing with his hair sometimes. Since you had first asked him to keep it down the day after his birthday, he often would whenever he was around you, though he kept it under a bandana while he was out on deck to keep it from blowing in his face during the day. Right now, as you were about to get into bed, he had it down which meant you wouldn't stop touching it. “You're very sweet, you know that? Thank you for coming with me for this. I'm so lucky to have you, Buggy.”

He turned as red as his nose, avoiding eye contact as you showered him with praise. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be used to it. You gave him a kiss after each compliment, calling him sweet, lovely, handsome and he thought he was going to die from the over abundance of love you were showing him right then. 

To him, he was the lucky one to have found someone like you who cared so much for him.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

[laceandsilkhandkerchiefs]

My First Snzfic (N/ewsies)

I was informed that people would be interested in reading my, *ahem*, N/ewsies snzfic, so... here it is. I don’t really know where it came from, I just got possessed by the idea recently and... this is the result. It’s also the first snzfic I’ve actually worked up the courage to post here so... that’s an important milestone, right?

Please note that the characters here are aged-up slightly from canon (early 20s). This also takes place in my Modern College AU, which is honestly so far removed from the original source material that you don’t really need to know anything about N/ewsies to read this. It’s basically an original story, I just borrowed the character’s names and a bit of their personalities.

I think that’s everything so... enjoy! And feel free to let me know if you’d like to read more stories featuring these characters/in this universe, or if you have any other ideas you’d like to see me write. I’m open to inspiration.

When Katherine opened the door to her apartment, Jack was taken aback. The normally extremely put-together journalism major was clad in a sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants, her hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head, and she wore a large pair of glasses. Perhaps most alarmingly of all, her eyes looked heavy with dark circles underneath, and unshed tears made them appear glassy and unfocused. Katherine's nose, too, looked like it had seen better days, flushed a deep red and clearly swollen.

"Woah, Ace... you okay?" Jack asked as she stepped aside so he could enter.

"Mby whole he-hhh-head itches," she replied stuffily, pressing a crumpled tissue to her nose as her nostrils twitched wildly. Jack shut the door behind him and waited a moment to see if anything came of it, but the urge to sneeze seemed to back off as Katherine lowered the tissue with an exasperated sigh. "I hate this."

Jack frowned sympathetically. "Yeah, I hear ya. Allergy season's been bad so far, Crutchie's got it even worse than you."

"Poor guy," Katherine murmured. "Although I don't see h-hehhh... uhhHHHH- UHHchiew! Hngxt-chew! Ugh, sorry. Snf. I don't see how that's possible."

"Trust me, it ain't pretty." Jack shook his head, then held up the plastic bag he was carrying. "I got the medicine ya asked for. Ask me, though, you should get somethin' stronger from ya doctor."

Katherine shook her head. "I did, years ago, but it made me so drowsy it was impossible for me to work. This doesn't fix all my symptoms, but it at least takes care of the sne- ehhhh- AHH-gnxgt! The sndeezing. Snf."

"Bless ya." Jack handed her the bag, which she took gratefully. "Well, here's hopin' it does the trick."

Katherine nodded, reaching into the bag and pulling out the small box which contained the nasal spray she swore by. Swiping at her relentlessly dripping nose, she gestured to the side table in her living room, upon which sat a box of tissues. "Sorry, cand you hand me a couple tidssues? I ndeed to blow mby ndose before I take this." Snf- snf! "Ugh."

"Sure." Jack obliged, grabbing the box and pulling out a couple tissues which Katherine accepted gratefully. Steepling her hands around her nose, she let forth a productive sounding blow, causing Jack to wince in sympathy. She must really feel miserable.

Katherine aggressively rubbed at her nose with the tissues when she was done, her breath hitching and her head tilting back as she inadvertently coaxed more sneezes forward.

"Hah- ah- ahhh- AHschngxt! Ngxt-shiew! Da-hhh- damnit... Hihhhh..."

"Don't hold 'em back, it'll just make ya have ta start all over again," Jack advised, earning a watery glare from Katherine as she geared up for another round. She did listen to him, however, as she convulsed forward into the tissues with a fit of surprisingly loud unstifled sneezes.

"Ihhhh- ISCHIEW! Aaaa- aHHHH- A'kSCHIEW! K'SCHIEW! Heh- ESCHIEW! Hahhhhh... snf... ahhhHHH- AH'gschiew! Guh..."

"Jeez, Ace, bless ya. You really weren't kiddin' on the phone, huh?"

"Obviously not, Sherlock," Katherine grumbled, pushing her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose. She took advantage of the momentary respite and pried open the box, taking out the spray without bothering to read the instructions. She was something of an old hand at this.

Inserting the nozzle of the bottle into each of her still twitching nostrils, Katherine sighed in relief as the cooling spray calmed her inflamed nasal passages. The tickle she had been fighting all day began to dissipate, and she gave an experimental sniff before smiling at Jack.

"Thanks, Cowboy. Sorry about... all that."

Jack waved her off. "Don't worry about it, Kath. 'S what friends are for, right? Plus now I can go tell Crutchie he's gonna have ta step up his game. He's got serious competition now."

Katherine shook her head, wiping her nose with the tissues as she spoke. "You're an idiot, Jack Kelly."

#snzfic #my writing #my snzfic #n/ewsies #snz #allergies

[poguestvff]

LIKE A BIG SISTER SHOULD — WHEEZIE CAMERON

in which wheezie cameron finds that blood doesn’t make you family, love and affection does.

taglist | masterlist | 2.5k words | @pogueslandia ,

warning(s): food, she/her pronouns, ward slander, a little sarah slander but that’d include reading between the lines. why’d this make me want to make a series of reader and Wheezie being best friends.

There's always been a heavy feeling of loneliness that rested upon the youngest cameron's shoulders, weighing her down as it seemed to pile over the years. Her siblings were always older, an age gap between them that even if it was shortened by a few years, their worlds would still be two different things. All three of them were in three different stages of life yet somehow it felt like Wheezie wasn't even there at times.

Throughout the entirety of her schooling career so far, everything had somehow been about Rafe and Sarah. Sarah was the perfect one; the paragon who could do no wrong. Even if Sarah tried to disobey, it'd be turned around to be made out as a minute mistake. She'd probably be able to get away with it a second time if she did it a different way. Maybe the same way.

Rafe was quite the opposite. The bastard child who needed a plentiful amount of attention in hopes he can be more like the paragon. With all this attention, his head only grew. It never gave him the space for growth. It minimized the space to stay exactly where he was for years on end.

This left Wheezie to be the ostracized sibling. She wasn't a social butterfly or a poster child like Sarah and she definitely wasn't a loner or the 'damaged goods' child like Rafe. She was just... average. With average grades and an average personality. Just average old Wheezie. She told herself this consistently, watching her father balance his attention between making sure Rafe stayed between the lines he'd drawn for him in a radius such as a dart board and allowing Sarah step out of them, even erasing some of the lines so she could walk on by them without a second thought.

But Wheezie was stuck in that tiny little circle in the middle, the bullseye as if scared to move out of those lines. The one place that was the hardest to pinpoint specifically by her father. But there was one thing Ward Cameron always said correct about his younger daughter. That he wouldn't be able to pin point his little dart of control into the middle of the board because she was misunderstood and misunderstood she was.

Though one person had been able to pick up on every single one of Wheezie's emotions.

Y/n Y/L/N was a pogue who had done tutoring on the side for a little extra money and when John B had recommended Y/n for help with Wheezie's homework, Ward was quick to say okay. He hardly even asked a thing about Y/n, just telling her to help Wheezie pass eighth grade and that was all. It was made very apparent to Y/n that was Wheezie was not as much of a priority to Ward as other things were.

Their first tutoring session, Wheezie was awfully dismissive. She didn't care for any of Y/n's efforts as they sat within the comfort of Wheezie's bedroom. She just wanted the entire hour to be over with the second she'd entered her room but Y/n was insistent, knowing that by the end of the school year she would have something instilled in Wheezie's brain. She just didn't know what that something was yet.

The second time they met, Y/n was more passive aggressive in hopes of breaking down the brick walls Wheezie had stored between her and everyone else in hopes of not disappointing them like the way she thought she'd disappointed her father. Y/n sat her down in her desk chair, swiveling her chair to her as she rested her hands on the younger girls shoulders. "You are going to have a really awkward couple of weeks if you and i don't become friends so no work today. We're playing 20 questions."

That night, Y/n learned a lot about Wheezie Cameron that she never thought she'd learned. Wheezie hated the color purple, she just painted her room that color because Sarah liked that color. Wheezie loved to paint and to draw, it was her favorite activity, she just rarely showed it bevause she hadn't believed in herself. Though, when she showed Y/n the canvas' that were shoved at the back of the closet, Y/n marveled at them. But Y/n's favorite fact, and the same one that almost made her hug Wheezie on the spot, was that she was never taught to swim and Y/n made her a promise that she would teach her.

As the weeks went by, Wheezie waiting anticipatingly for Y/n's beaten down, green ford bronco to pull up on the driveway and she'd leave the house with a giant smile on her face. It’d be early in the morning, a little less than an hour until school started, just like how Wheezie liked. She'd jump in the driver seat, embracing the smell of vanilla from the scented item hanging from the rear view mirror. She’d toss her bag to the back as Y/n would ruffle her hair, just like she had every morning. "And beloved was set in... late 1856!" Wheezie answered excitedly as Y/n drove down the final street towards her school after the two had gotten breakfast together.

"Perfect! You're gonna do so good on your test, Wheeze, I promise." Y/n told her ecstatically as she pulled into a parking space. Just before Wheezie could get out, Y/n held her upper arm just to gain her attention before she got out. "Tell Rose she doesn't have to get you after school. I'll leave school early and you and I are having a girls day. No studying, just me, you and a shit ton of sweets."

Wheezie smiled, she could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to hurt from how wide she had. She tilted her head to the side out of curiosity, eyeing the look of excitement on Y/n's face. "But why?"

Y/n shrugged, adjusting in her seat and fixing her rear view mirror. "Cause, you deserve it. I'm so proud of you, Little W." She told her, looking back towards the girl and seeing her smile slightly drop. "You okay?"

Wheezie couldn't remember a time where she was genuinely told that. Yeah, sure, Ward said it a few times but it'd be in a lousy tone before he'd wave her off, saying he was busy with whatever office work he had to attend to. Sarah may have said it a few times but it was rushed before she'd run after her friends with a quick goodbye to Wheeze, leaving her alone in the sand. It was never sincere. Not in the way Y/n had said it.

She rubbed her hands against her jean clad thighs with a sharp breath before nodding. “Yeah. I've just never really been told that before. Like—Like genuinely." She said, lowly, in hopes Y/n would understand and wouldn't push it.

Y/n had known Wheezie long enough to know her tells and avoiding eye contact was one of the biggest ones. So she didn't indulge further in the conversation, brushing it under the rug but knowing she'd have to go diving back in for that little tidbit later on. Instead she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug from over the console. "I'll tell you i'm proud of you everyday if i have to." Y/n muttered before kissing the top of her head. "Now go, if you're late to first period, your dad will kill me." And Wheezie was able to leave the car with a smile on her face, already looking forward to the day planned later on.

Y/n was overall consistent, it was one thing Wheezie enjoyed knowing that when she made promises she tried to keep them as best as she could. Sometimes things slipped her mind but Wheezie could recognize that Y/n didn't forget a thing when it came to Wheezie. Like she made sure to engrave bits and pieces of her into her mind like a data chart. But it showed she cared and that was enough for Wheezie.

Y/n cared enough that when she entered her car after school, the smell of her favorite cinnabon's filled the car that made her look in the backseat, seeing a picnic basket. There wasn't a chance, right? You could only get them on the mainland. She turned her body swiftly towards the elder girl who sat with a smirk on her face. "You didn't?"

"I did. Second I left fourth period, got on a ferry just for you to have those overly sweet treats." Y/n said, tapping her nose with a 'boop'! "And I almost got stuck on the mainland because of it so you better enjoy the hell out of them."

"I will, I promise." Wheezie said dramatically as Y/n smiled, pulling out of the parking space to head down to the beach. Wheezie had said she didn't have a bathing suit, not prepared for the outing, though Y/n already said she had ransacked her room for clothes for after. Y/n was the only person allowed in Wheezie Cameron's room without Wheezie being there and the elder girl took pride in it.

As Y/n set up their small area for the few hours, she noticed Wheezie standing just where the water and the sand met. She kicked around the water with clear disinterest causing Y/n to huff, hands on her hips, before tossing off her hoodie to get in. The splash she'd made by pushing herself into the water made Wheezie jump, a laugh falling from the two's lips. "Come on." Y/n said, standing and holding her hands out to Wheezie.

"Y/n/n, I can't swim."

"Y/n/n I can't swim, well, obvi, i know that, little W. But, you have your amazing best friend to keep you afloat. I won't let you go, i swear." Y/n said, holding up her pinky.

"Swear?"

"On my life." She reassured with a trusting smile before Wheezie walked further in. When the water had gotten to her above her waist, it'd freaked her out a bit though Y/n talked her through it, coaxing her further in slowly. Wheezie was kept above the water as Y/n held her hands as the buoyancy was used to their advantage. "See, not as bad as you thought?"

Wheezie shook her head though still nervous. "Not as bad, not my thing though."

"Why don't we try actually swimming? I won't force you if you don't want to and we can get back to shore right now but maybe just try?" She asked as Wheezie had to think about it for a moment. She almost felt guilty, remembing just a few months ago when Sarah had asked her if she could teach her but she refused. Though maybe, just maybe, it was because of Y/n being a bit more trust worthy that Wheezie said yes this time.

It took a while, Wheezie was frightened by letting go even as Y/n would say she was okay. Wheezie would tighten her grip on her shoulders before trying again and again until she eventually got it. She finally was able to keep herself above the water without flailing, recognizing that she was okay. Y/n cheered as she watched, not caring for the stares of others around them. "See, dude? You just have to start applying yourself! You did it!"

"I did it!" Wheezie said as Y/n hugged her, the two laughing before Wheezie screamed making Y/n's laughter die fast. "Something touched me!"

"Wheeze, it was seaweed." Y/n said softly before turning and letting her place her hands on her shoulders. "Yeah let's get you out of here before a jellyfish gets you."

Wheezie widened her eyes. "Jellyfish?"

As the sun had began to set and people had packed up their things and left, Y/n and Wheezie stayed. Wheezie was on her fourth doughy treat, even though Y/n told her to slow down two treats ago. Towels were wrapped around each of their shoulders as they watched the pretty colors fade in to one another, a mixture of pink, blue and orange array of colors combining to make a cotton candy sky. Wheezie watched as Y/n got up, accepting a phone call from Ward, the only phone call she hadn't silenced since they'd left the car.

In the time she'd left, Wheezie took advantage of it to recognize how appreciative she was of all that Y/n was doing for her. She came in as a tutor and, to Wheezie, was to stay as a friend. As family. Wheezie was more then ecstatic to have someone who would be there to rant and rave about the other Cameron's, someone she could trust with her secrets and the contents of her always running brain. Someone who was just there.

"Hey, your father would like us back in thirty so we should leave in ten." She said coming back and sitting beside Wheezie as she caught sight of her face, the lack of the smile that was there previously concerning her. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, really. Just... I really enjoyed today, Y/n. It really lets me know you're not just here for like... like the money or something."

Y/n let out a scoff. "Are you kidding? I enjoy nothing more than watching you freak out over the existence of jellyfish." She joked as Wheezie pushed her to the side with a laugh. Y/n recovered, letting out a content sigh as she tossed an arm over Wheezie's shoulders. "You're stuck with me now, Wheezes. Can't wait to record you falling at your next soccer game."

Wheezie couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips, leaning into Y/n's embrace as her head rested against her clavicle. "And I'll be looking for you in the stands, Y/n/n."

Y/n and Wheezie had both found out something about the other that night. Wheezie found that she didn't want to be like Sarah and she was glad she wasn't like Rafe. She was content with her own little circle on the dart board but maybe she could take a bit after her newest role model. And Y/n found that she was able to instill several things into the youngers mind including To Kill a Mockingbird, Inca Civilizations, and that she now had a true and present big sister to look up to.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #wheezie cameron #wheezie cameron x reader #rafe cameron #sarah cameron

[eclipsedpascal]

Making Daddy Proud

Stepdad!Duncan x Female Reader

After moving in with your estranged mother and her new husband, Duncan Shepherd, you started to grow very close to your new stepdad. The two of you had a great relationship and he was doing his best to be a good father figure for you, knowing you missed your dad so much. But there was a problem, you found yourself insanely attracted to him and were starting to notice little things indicating he might feel the same way.

Warnings: very inappropriate relationships, Stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, Cheating is ofc implied, 20+ year age gap, daddy kink, unprotected sex (but I kinda imagined the reader to be on birth control so is okie😌) fingering (female receiving), choking, vaginal sex, oral (male receiving) and face fucking😃

Notes: Okie sooo I know some people will hate this fic and ofc I understand that, but if you do hate it then please don't send me any hate!! just don't read it🖤 anywayss I got dis ask saying "Concept: Stepdad Duncan x naive reader😉" nd omg i LOVE the whole concept of Stepdad!Duncan sm, like if you've been in the fandom for a while you'll probably know the fic "The Hand That Robs the Cradle" by Langdonsrapture nd that fic was my holy grail when it came out!! so you know I just had to go all out here nd get carried away writing it hehe:')

word count: 5.4k

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The opportunity to study political science at American University in Washington DC had been one you simply couldn’t pass up on, but unfortunately it meant moving away from your father to stay closer to campus grounds. You knew it was worth it in the long run, I mean you had been waiting on this chance for years and wanted to make your father proud, but you would miss him.

He was never home too much, always busy working, but he meant the world to you. It had been just the two of you for a long time now. Your mother had moved away once their divorce finalised 7 years ago, impulsively leaving you in his custody as she ran off and gallivanted around the world, meeting all sorts of interesting men she would tell you about.

Luckily for you, she had settled down with one of those interesting men in DC recently, and upon discovering your acceptance into the prestigious university she had offered you a place to stay whilst you studied.

It was a frightening move to make, but staying with your mother in DC had actually been pretty interesting. You hadn’t spent time with her in so long and it had been nice to catch up with her, I mean sure she had been a little distant, but that was expected with having not spent any real time with her in so long.

You were just grateful she had let you stay with her in the first place, thinking she would have probably preferred to be left alone with her new husband, Duncan Shepherd.

They had been married about four months when you moved in and from what you could see, things were going well; especially considering she had sprung the engagement on everyone pretty fast. You were just happy knowing she was happy.

Though you had only met the man in question once before moving in, he really seemed like a perfect partner. He didn’t have a single obvious flaw to him, but see that was the problem. He was completely flawless to you.

You had tried to find things you didn’t like about him, even just tiny things, thinking hating him would be far better than thinking of him the way had been, but no matter what you did, you just couldn’t seem to fault him. And the longer you stayed with them, the worse your little problem became.

You weren’t 100% sure of how old he was. You only knew he was in his early to mid forties. But being at least 20 years your senior, you knew he was definitely old enough to be fulfilling the role he was as your stepfather. It felt strange to have a new stepdad at the age of 20, (almost 21) but it was even stranger with you being so blindly attracted to him.

And it wasn’t even just his looks. Though, yes, they were quite the spectacle, it was more than that. He was confident and cocky, always knowing exactly what to do and say to make the people around him do whatever he wanted them to. He could make you laugh until your stomach was in cramps, and not just through telling dad jokes. Charisma rolled off of him in waves.

He was intuitive and crafty; smart to put in plainly. And his interests appeared to be more intellectually based than anything else, which was quite the opposite of your mother, so it baffled you as to how your mother had managed to snatch him up so easily in the first place.

Now it’s not that you were jealous, really. It was more that you didn’t understand how these two polar opposite personality’s had ended up colliding together in the manner that they had.

Whenever the three of you would sit and have an evening meal together, Duncan always made you feel welcomed in the conversation, which was a great comfort to both you and your mother, being the relationship you had was so strained. Because of this and the fact you both had quite a lot in common when it came to your interests, Duncan and you had become almost good friends in the small time that you had been living there.

It was obvious he was doing his best to be some kind of fatherly figure to you. knowing that you were missing your actual dad, he did his best to help you with the things he knew your dad usually would. Whether it was school work or just having someone to joke with from time to time. He was there.

Sometimes when he was there, though, you felt like maybe, just maybe, he felt something more too. Such as the moments where his stares would linger on your form for just a little too long, or the way he would sometimes fix your hair for you if it had strayed across your face the wrong way. Just small things he did that fatherly figures didn’t typically tend to do with their daughters; especially when his wife, your mother, was right there. Sure, she seemed oblivious to it, but you certainly weren’t.

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Taking your now lukewarm cup of coffee from the breakfast bar counter, you brought it to your lips and gulped the bitter liquid down, fighting viciously to stay alert. It was nearing 3am and you had been writing for hours. Concentrating was no longer your most favourable asset and your half lidded eyes were growing wearer by the minute, but you just had to finish this paper.

It was 17 percent of your grade and due in two weeks. A persuasive essay on propaganda within the current American political climate and you had been slowly working at it for weeks, but you knew if you left it hanging over your head any longer it would drive you insane.

Sitting back in the stool you resided on, you took quick solace in the many noises coming from the ajar kitchen window, listening to a low rumble of thunder, accompanied by the constant pitter patter of rain falling from the gloomy DC sky above. It had been hot and humid all week, eventually cultivating into large clouds that had now given in, spilling out showers for almost the entire day past.

You recalled all the time you’d spent by the pool with your mother and Duncan in the past week, enjoying the current heatwave by sunbathing next to it on one of the many loungers. The house was kind of set up like a hotel that way. With Duncan always needing to be prepared for any events he may have to hold for his company’s business associates or press, he had furnished the home with what was to the three of you, unnecessary seating and tableware; amongst other things.

You stirred, returning your eyes back to the last few lines you had written and attempted to go over them in your head, but quickly realised you couldn't even manage that without stumbling over them or jumbling the words up beyond comprehension.

Abruptly interrupting your confused stream of thought, was the kitchen door groaning open. So with a frown plastered to your face, you shot your head up to recognise the intruder. But your frown was quickly blown away at discovering that it was Duncan who had entered the balmy room, and he was in more glory than you had ever seen him.

You had seen his silhouette whilst he showered before. Having gone into his and your mother’s shared bedroom whilst searching for earrings, you had seen him through the whited out, frosted glass of the on-suit bathroom door. But this was something entirely different. This was him, stood in kitchen doorway with nothing on but his grey Calvin Klein boxers.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you were still up.” He quirked a brow at you, wondering why you were still sat in the kitchen so late at night. You swallowed deeply at the sight of him. Your eyes magnetised to his body, dilating with such a sultry image before them. Pulling your eyes back up to his face, you hoped he hadn’t seen their little detour down to his crotch.

“Uhm.. i’m, uh.. w-working on an essay.” Fuck! He’ll definitely know how nervous you are now. You looked away from him, too embarrassed to face him and cringing at your own attempt to speak. “It’s due in next week and I wanted to get it finished.” Okay that’s better, you thought. Maybe he’ll just think you’re just too tired to have a proper conversation or something.

“Oh, right,” he trailed off, looking you up and down a bit as he walked further into the room. You watched the back of his head as he opened the fringe, holding it open and scanning the contents of it. Deciding on a small bottle of water, he retrieved it from the middle shelf before closing the door and walking over to lean on the opposite side of the counter from you.

He didn’t seem too bothered by the fact he was practically undressed in front of you. Of course, you weren't complaining, but it was interesting. You tried to think of something else you could add to your open word document, wanting to distract yourself from his displayed body. But thinking as hard as you possibly could, your mind still brought you nothing.

You awkwardly pulled at the sleeve of your oversized ‘American University” sweater and hoisted it back up onto your shoulder. It had ridden down your arm whilst you were aggressively fiddling with your fingers - a nervous habit you had developed in your early teens. People would often point it out to you, but it was just one of those things you couldn’t stop doing.

There was a deafening silence stuffed between the two of you. So looking around the room, you tried to focus on anything in your line of vision that wasn’t him. It was just too hard seeing him like; his plump lips wrapped around the bottle’s mouth as he drank, his sleepy un-styled curls falling just above his perfectly manicured brows and wearing nothing but those fucking grey boxers. He was making it unbearably hard not to stare.

Deciding to speak, you cleared your throat. “So did you just wake up? Or could you not sleep?”

“Just couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the most random shit.. and you know how your mom is, she snores a lot.” He chuckled. His eyes never leaving you, beginning to feel as if they were boring holes into your soul as you kept full eye contact with him.

“Yeah, that must get pretty annoying.” You nodded slowly, thinking about how many nights you had spent wide awake when you were younger, all due to her roaring, loud snores passing through the paper thin walls of your childhood home.

“It does.” A smile played on his lips, taking another swig of water before speaking again. “so what’s the essay about?”

“It’s that one I was telling you about a few weeks ago, if you remember. it’s a persuasive on propaganda within the current American political climate.” You reminded him of the conversation you had about it when he dropped you off to class one morning not too long ago. The two of you often carpooled together, with the University campus being so close to his office, it made for an easy drive on the days he was needed in.

You guys would listen to playlists together on the drive and make fun of each others music taste, that was when you weren’t too busy being amazed by how similar they could be.

“Are you struggling with it? I mean, it is getting pretty late now.” He turned to check the clock which hung on the wall behind him, then looked back at you questioningly.

Duncan was good at helping you with this kind of thing. He was extremely well versed in politics, with his family’s background and all. Your mom had told you he used to be very involved with the white house, saying when he was younger he even went to prison for a short time before president underwood had pardoned him.

“I just can’t concentrate, but I really need to get it done or it’ll stress me out.” You lifted your bare feet up onto the stool seat, your knees coming up to your chest so you could rest your chin on them. You were only wearing panties with the sweater, it being too hot to wear anything more.

“Can I come over and check it?” He closed his bottle of water, tightening the lid with his muscular arms as he spoke. You had almost forgot he wasn’t wearing much before he said this, but watching him screw the bottle cap on as he asked to could come round to your side of the counter? It had you weak for him all over again.

“Uh.. yeah, course.” He padded his bare feet over the white, tiled flooring towards you, placing the bottle down on the counter and moving behind you to read the most recent paragraphs you had written. His hand was stretched over to the other side of you, resting on the edge of the breakfast bar as the skin of his arm grazed across your back.

Even with you being sat on such a tall stool, he still managed to tower over you. His hight was usually intimidating as it was, but with the added factor of him being almost completely undressed it was even worse. A small waft of air blew his expensive cologne towards you, creeping past your nostrils and possessing your senses completely before you started to feel his breathe on your upper neck. It wasn’t heavy, but it was enough to make your cunt start pulsating.

You were disgusted by yourself. He’s your mother’s husband! And your Stepdad! What the fuck was wrong with you? You could only imagine what people’s reactions would be if they knew of the truly sinful thoughts you had about him, and you hated yourself for it.

He was your type, yes. A rich, older man who wasn’t actually an asshole, and they were hard to come by, but that wasn’t relevant. You needed to control yourself. No matter how hard that may be.

“What you have so far is really good. Your argument is strong and as always with your work, it’s written well. You’re smart, Y/N. It’s impressive.” He humoured himself with a scoff, his voice interrupting your lewd thoughts.

You blushed at his compliment, hiding your face behind your knees slightly and looking up at him. “Thanks, Duncan.” You knew he was just trying to be a good dad figure to you, but you couldn’t help being attracted to the way he was so caring for you. Maybe it’s fucked up, but it’s not your fault all you need is an older man’s approval to become turned on.

“I mean it.” He looks so sincere as he talks to you. His face would be intimately close to yours if you hadn’t hidden it from him earlier. You notice his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second, and then back up to your eyes again. His stare no longer felt friendly, but more.. lustful. Were you crazy or was he really doing this?

Suddenly he looks away from you, moving his eyes back to the laptop’s screen. “Maybe you should just get some sleep. I know you said it’ll stress you out, but if you get some rest you’ll be able to get back into it tomorrow with better concentration.” He does his best to steer the conversation back to where is once was, reminding himself that you’re his fucking step daughter and that he has a beautiful wife sleeping just upstairs.

“I know that, its just..” You sighed, blinking up at him. You brought your legs back down you hang over the edge of the seat, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how close he was to you, wanting to do nothing more than to drape your arms behind his neck an-.

“Nope I won’t listen to it. From what I can see it’s an incredibly strong piece of work already, so just go get some sleep and come back to it in the morning, okay sweetheart?” He laughed a little, looking down at you again.

That nickname. Sweetheart. He called you it all the time and yet it always managed to take your breath away. But the thing is, he usually wasn’t this close to you when he did. So when you squeezed your legs together and bite down on your bottom lip, doing your best to ease the overwhelming desire you felt for him in that moment, there was no way he hadn’t seen it.

You were frozen staring at him, his face static and unreadable. You hoped he didn't choose to shout at you for how repulsive your behaviour was, or maybe he would kick you out? Your mind began spiralling, wrapping itself in intricate knots as you held your breath, awaiting a reply from him.

“Do you like that? When I call you sweetheart.” His voice was deep, sultry and dripping with desire. Shock coursed through you. That was definitely not what you had expected him to say. He seemed even larger now, his confidence making you feel small in comparison as your mind scrabbled to find the words you were supposed to use in your current predicament, but it never found any.

"You like it when daddy gives you nicknames?” He moved his hand up and delicately grasped the skin where your neck met your jaw, his eyes half lidded with lust. Your heart was beating so fast now and your breathing had grown shallow. You were so lost for words, only able to whimper out a weak “yes” before looking down to his boxers, trying to avoid his eyes but still wanting him just as much as he now appeared to want you.

He lifted your chin and kissed you roughly, drinking in your lips as if you were the water he had ventured down stairs for all along; and you began to wonder if you perhaps were. Maybe you were what he had been craving, just as you had been craving him.

He pulled the stool closer to him with his spare hand, leading you to wrap your legs around his torso as you tangled your tiny fingers through his sleep rustled hair. It was passionate. His kiss was sloppy, yet perfectly executed as his tongue slipped past your lips to glide over your own. His greying stubble dug into your skin, burning it with pure contact.

You parted to breath; and for just a moment, though it felt like hours, you stared into each others eyes with a ferociously neither of you could nor wanted to tame.

He tuts. “You really shouldn’t drink so much coffee little one, it’s not good for you. And it’s all I can taste.” He couldn’t help but reprimand you for the little habit, he had just gotten so used to doing it over the past three months, and using it to tease you sounded even more appealing.

You opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off when he lunged at you again, kissing you viciously. He began to move his hands all across your body, his fingertips grazing over every inch of you they possibly could as he started to undress you, pulling your oversized sweater above your head and taking handfuls of your breasts. He was kneading them, leaning down to kiss and suck on them whilst he watched you throw your head back, completely enthralled by him.

You were taken aback by how quick things had escalated, your sense of control had deteriorated far too rapidly and was ebbing away even further with each little kiss he left on your skin.

His large hand slid down to your panties, playing with the lacy bow that was centred on the waist band. He hovered his hand over your heat, cupping it and feeling just how sticky you had become for him. You let out a moan, all sense of wrong and right leaving you completely as you uttered a soft “Daddy” and ground your cunt into the palm of his hand.

“That’s right. So desperate for daddy.” He mused, ripping your thin underwear off and dropping it down onto the floor beneath you. Bringing his face to yours again, your noses bumped and leant on each other for some kind of purchase, the both of you watching his hand as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, gathering a fair amount of slick on them before pressing two inside you.

“Ahh!!” You let out a moan, it was louder than you expected and reminded you of what was really going on here. Having been too caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even thought about how being complete fucking naked with your step father between your legs would look if your mother had decided to come downstairs.

“Ah, ah, shh baby. We don’t wanna get now caught do we?” His breathe was hot on your lips, whispering as to not alert anyone. “So tight.”

You whispered back. “I’m sorry daddy, it was an accident- mmph!” You muffled your moan.

“That’s it. Who’s my good girl?” He lay a gentle peck on you lips, only stopping as to allow you to answer his question.

“I am daddy!! I’m your good girl!” You spoke with urgency, but did your best to keep the volume low, which was quite the struggle in between moans. Duncan could see this, so he pressed your lips together. Kissing you into a muffled silence.

You felt his spare hand on your neck, squeezing it just enough for you to still breathe okay when he pulled away from your mouth, moving his lips to the shell of your ear and biting the lobe. He murmured in your ear. “Do you know how hard it was, this week? Having to sit there next to your mom at the poolside and see you just lying there like that?! That fucking bikini. It took everything in me not to cum right there.”

His fingers were moving slowly, going in deep and curling up against your g spot, making you cry out and lean on his shoulder, biting it to keep yourself quiet. he started to rub your clit in hard circles. He was so experienced. It was mind-blowing.

“Would it have served you more pleasure to know, I only wore it for you?” It was true, you had only worn it for him and it had obviously worked. You certainly had his attention now. He growled at this, pulling his fingers out and slapping your cunt.

He yanked your neck closer to him, speaking down to you. “Just for that? Get on your fucking knees.” As soon as he let go of your throat you were climbing off the stool and onto the floor. The heat of the room, and of your acts too, made the marble tiling feel like ice pressed onto your flushed skin. But you didn't care.

You watched him pull his boxers down, cock springing free, adjacent to his stomach. Never having been with anyone of this size before, you had never seen a cock this big. You reached out and touched it, feeling just how hard he was. He hissed at the contact, looking down at you as you watched his facial expressions with wide eyes.

You played with it in your hand, stroking it with one and palming his balls with the other. He stroked his fingers through your hair, giving you a reassuring look as you licked the tip. The salty taste hit your tongue, making you crave his cock even more. So without another second going to waste, you took him into your mouth as far as you could.

“Ahh fuck!” You began bobbing your head, your eyes fixed on him as a groan left his lips. He was watching you intently, threading his fingers through your hair and onto your scalp to get a good grip on your head. You let your jaw go loose, knowing what he was about to do and preparing yourself for it.

He started thrusting his hips into your face, his cock hitting the back of your throat with almost every shove. You had honestly impressed yourself, I mean you knew you gave good head, but taking a cock this big as it fucked into your throat was something to be proud of.

“Mmm that’s it sweetheart.” Your stomach fluttered at his approval. The gagging noises you were making giving him even more pleasure. “You just wanna make daddy proud, don’t you princess?” You mumbled a wet “yes daddy” around his cock, sending sweet vibrations through it as he pushed himself as far as he could into your throat.

You couldn't even fathom how this was happening. You had pictured this moment late at night with a vibe pressed to your clit far too many times to count, so it finally happening was something hard to comprehend. Somehow he looked even more handsome from down on your knees than you had ever imagined he would. His stubble contouring his face perfectly with the ‘o’ his lips were forming.

Suddenly pulling you off of him, you gasped out for oxygen and tried to wipe away some of the saliva dribbling down your chin. It was like a snapshot from one of Duncan’s wet dreams. You looked so incredibly fucked out. He thought it was beautiful.

“Come on little one, stand up. Daddy wants to fuck that tight little pussy of yours.” You moaned as he talked down to you, stroking his calloused thumb over your bottom lip and pulling it down just to watch it bounce back up again.

You stood up, finally wrapping your arms around his shoulders like you had wanted to all this time. He pulled you in for a kiss, one much slower than the rest, communicating something more to you than just pure sexual carnality. His embrace was comforting, making you feel protected and small in his arms.

His hands grabbed at your ass as he picked you up, sitting you back down onto the bar stool and adjusting the hight while his lips stayed connected to yours. Once the seat was low enough for his liking, he picked up your thighs, shelving them onto his hips and laying you back just enough so that you could lean on the backrest.

The room was sweltering, your body hot against his and anticipating having him buried inside you was getting too much to handle. He dragged his cock through your lips, teasing your clit and moving back down to almost enter you, but he never would. Just wanting to get you all worked up and loving the way you would squirm when he did.

“Daddy.. please.” You steadied yourself by holding on to the sides of the seat, hoping he would end his tournament and fuck you already.

He slid the head barely into you. “Hmm… Since you were so polite, suppose daddy should reward you.” He spoke calmly before snarling and stuffing himself into you, pushing as deeply as he physically could. He felt your walls clamp around him as he set his pace. It was a lot. Having never taken a cock this big and the fact he didn’t even let you adjust, you couldn’t help but wail out.

He shot his hand up to cover your mouth, needing to keep you quiet and seeing you clearly couldn’t do it yourself. “Wouldn’t want to wake up mommy now, would you baby?” you attempted to utter a “No daddy”, but his hand kept your lips glued shut.

He fucked you. Like really really fucked you. He was making the stool shuffle underneath you, the powerfulness of his thrusts causing you to slide down in the seat. The only reason you didn’t slip off completely being the barbarian hold he had on your hips.

It actually surprised you how rough he was. A pleasant surprise, of course, but he had been so delicately caring towards you since becoming your step father and now here you were, receiving the best of both worlds.

The closer you grew to your high, the more incoherent your thoughts became. His eyebrows were scrunched together, lips trembling as he picked you up off the seat and held you closer to him. Supporting your ass, his hips ricocheted up and off yours as he tried desperately not to yell out.

His thumb was brought back down to your clit as he pressed you up against him, swiping at it hellishly, trying to hurry up your release upon feeling your legs begin to quiver; and knowing his own was approaching rapidly.

“That’s it sweetheart, come around daddy’s cock… Gonna cum so fucking deep inside your cunt. Would you like that?” You could see a thin line of perspiration cascading down his cheekbone, he was almost breathless and his thrusts were messier now.

“Yes da-AHH!“ you whipped a hand up to your face, holding your mouth shut as you came. You dug the hand you had placed on his shoulder deep into his skin and was quickly reminded of his marriage to your mother. You hoped you hadn't left any nail indents she might see.

You felt his hot seed spurt onto your walls as he rested his head on yours, mouth open wide and letting out a silent groan. His release was long and powerful. The both of you were left panting, the only noise in the room being your own breaths and a small creak from the stool when he softly set you down onto it.

He pulled out, your mixed juices gushing out of you along with the sexual haze you had been overcome with. The severity of what you had just done began to settle in. His head still resting on yours as you started freaking out, contemplating what would happen if your mother was to ever find out what had just occurred.

You wrapped your arms around his back, needing his comfort and squeezing him in an urgent hug, which he returned. his fingers stroked the sweaty skin of your back, trying to ease the thoughts he too had running through his mind. He lifted your chin up, the look he had in his eyes telling you everything would be okay.

Kissing you cautiously, he savoured the feeling of your lips on his and prayed he would get a chance to feel them again. “Are you okay?” He whispered

You didn’t really know if you were. On one hand, that was something you had wanted for a long time and it had been far better than you ever imagined, but on the other you had just helped your stepfather cheat on your mother. “I don’t know. I think so.”

He stood up, grabbing your sweater and panties, handing them to you before putting his boxers back on. “Well, at least that paper won’t seem like such big problem now.” He chuckled, doing his best to find humour in a humourless situation.

You giggled a little, hurrying to throw on your sweater and being reminded of how he had ruined your panties. “True. Now this can hang over my head instead.” You wiped any left over salvia you had on your face onto your sleeve and thought about how you would probably need to shower after this. “At least the sex was worth it, right?”

He sent you a dark smirk, picking up his bottle of water and walking towards the kitchen door. “It was. hopefully it'll be just as good next time too.” You opened your mouth, faking shock at his confidence as you watched him open the door.

“Goodnight Y/N” He gave you one last look as he sauntered through the door, getting ready to close it behind him and leave you alone in the kitchen with no one but your thoughts. The thoughts of your acts. Remembering all the little moments you had just shared together.

In that last moment before he left, you struck eye contact with him, chewing your inner lip and speaking.

“Goodnight, daddy.”

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Thank you sm for reading!🥺🖤

Tags: @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @ntxoza @blakescoven @ghostangels @jimmason @fernfiction @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @instincts-baby i'm so so sorry if you don't like this kinda fic or it has triggered you in anyway, but just let me know if it has and I won't tag you in this kind of thing ever again! You can also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list too:)

#Duncan Shepherd #Duncan Shepherd x reader #Duncan Shepherd fic #Duncan Shepherd smut #Stepdad!Duncan #Stepdad!Duncan Shepherd #Stepdad!Duncan Shepherd x reader #Cody fern #Cody fern fic #Daddy Duncan #my writing

[wh0re-4-techno]

5. PRESENTATION ((PROFESSOR TECHNO))

Description: You and the guys present your project, you stay after class.

Warning(s): This does include the reader(you) having stage fright.

Words: 4456

Last part :: Next part

You awake to the same loud and obnoxious alarm that went off every morning. Today wasn't the best day to wake up either. But adding to the not so good morning was Minx. Whom decided to grab one of her pillows and throw it towards you.

Letting out a little help as the pillow hit you in the face, following with Minx angrily yelling. "Will you please turn it off!" Yo grunt while slamming your side table, trying to shut if off, soon enough you hit it perfectly and the beeping stops.

As your eyes adjusted to the brightly lit room. You softly grunt, burying your head back into the pillows.

Minx stands from her bed, as it was Monday and she had class before you did. You lay back in bed and begin to close your eyes once again. She wasn't playing round at this time of the morning so she wasn't going to let you get off so easily. "Time to get your ass up!" She quickly grabbed a hold of your blankets, before you could protect, she yanked them away from you. You shiver as your warm body meets the coldness of the room. "What the fuck Minx." You curse her out, whining while scrunching up your body into a ball.

Minx laughs at your misery and walks to her closet, picking out a simple outfit for the day. Looking over at her side. Her bookbag and notebooks scatter across her bed.

She begins to change and put on makeup, while to pull your sheets back to your now cold body. She looks over her shoulder, watching you. "Get up or I'm throwing your sheets out the window!" She yells at you, which this time it really wakes you up. You know she wouldn't actually do it, but in the back of your head it was telling you she would and you listened.

"Com'on you got fucken class in an hour." You stand from your bed, legs still a little wiggly from waking up. Sending her a side glance while doing so, you wish you could go back into the warmth you called a bed.

Minx finishes her makeup and packs her bookbag, turning to you. "Don't you have a project to present today?" She questions while sliding her phone in her pocket. She was ready to leave for class.

Your mind started drifting, thinking back to Friday when you went to his office...

"Yeah, it's going to suck ass though." Grunting while walking towards your dresser. Pushing away your thoughts about your Professor, but it was becoming harder to do so.

Focusing more on what you had to wear today seems more important than daydreaming about your teacher.

You had to find something that was decent, but also something that had layers as it was getting colder by the day. Opening the dresser she asks, "Why is that? The guys seemed cool and that tall one was smart?" She questions, sitting down for a moment to hear you out. "It's not because of them, it's other reasons..." You start gripping the handle on the dresser. "And why are you nervous?" Minx grabs her set of keys from her desk. She could tell that you were starting to get anxious. "Because I have to present." You fastly say, throwing your head down. 

The real reason was that you did have some stage fright, but that was just a part of it.  The other reason was because you didn't want to see your Professor as you started to form a crush on him. It was cilché to say the least but everytime he talked or even glance at you, it was like a trance you couldn't break out of.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could help you more." Minx says, taking you out of your thoughts. It wasn't the best thing to think about him, especially this early in the morning.  She gives you a smile, trying to lighten the mood, even though you know she didn't understand. "It's okay, I just hope I can be calm up there." She nods while standing back up.

She heads to the door with her bag, but before she leaves she adds, "If you want I can get us lunch when your done with that class." You nod, that would help you after doing that project and a good way to to distance yourself from your Professor.

"Have a good day and get ready for your class in less than an hour." She warns with a smile while closing the door. "Okay mom!" You shout, hoping she'll hear you when she walks off.

Going back to your dresser, you pull out a Cordray coat, a collared argyle sweater, and a black mini skirt. Perfect for today. Pulling everything on you, you check yourself out in your mirror. You definitely were feeling this outfit and yourself (cuz you a bad bitch).

You take your phone and backpack, grabbing all your books and notes for your class and most definitely your laptop. Walking out the door, ready to go to class.

When you're out of the dorm building the autumn breeze from earlier in the week started to get colder, turning the cool air for wearing a Tee shirt to wearing coats and slight layers.

You always thought this time of the year was the best.

Putting your earbuds in and playing your playlist. Passing random students you've seen day in and out. Seeing the few people who already set up in the grass feild as you pass. It was quite lovely.

Pulling out your phone while stepping and checking the time, "7:21 am" You still had a tad bit over half an hour till your class actually started. Nothing wrong about showing up earlier.

-----

Walking up to his door to the classroom, hoping he wasn't there. It wasn't that you didn't want to face him, but at the same time you didn't.

Your hand stays on the handle for a second, thinking of everything that's happened. Back to his office, nothing happened between the two of you, but how you wanted something to happen between the both of you. Just being in his presence made you feel dizzy.

Standing there with your eyes fixated on it, slowly pulling open the door, you peak your head in to see if anyone was there.

And, of course he was there.

Technoblade was seated at his desk, he stared down at paper while holding a red pen. Presumingly he was grading. You were quite sure that there wasn't anyone else in there, of course no one was there, why are you there?

Deciding quickly that this probably wasn't the best idea if you wanted to stop thinking about him. You needed time away from him. You slowly step away, almost closing the door until you hear him.

"Who's there?" His voice was loud and low. Your body tenses, hand grips on the door handle tightly. Fuck. Freezing up, he asks again to you.

You had to relax yourself, this was worse then that stupid damn project.

Mentally calming yourself, all you had to do was apologize for interrupting and leave. Opening back the door, you look at him. Hands to the side of yourself as you step in. He lifts his head up to see who was intruding his work time, but when he sees that it's you a slight smirk curled on his lips. He was glad it was you. "So it seems we meet again Miss Y/l/n. Is there anything you need help with the project?" He asks while pulling himself away from his grading. The pen dropping in his desk was loud in the empty classroom.

You start walking into the class, making your way to his desk. "And if so, I will be criticizing you for asking so late." He chuckles at his own joke, his cheeks redden lightly. It was charming to say the least. You giggle at him, which seems to make him smile slightly more.

You flash him a smile, "No it's not about that Sir." You say but you were interrupted by him, "There's no need for formalities darling. Remember?" He stands from his chair, immediately intimidating you. Making you catch your breath.

He wore a black suit with a dark maroon  best under it. His tie matching the black of his suit.

Swallowing down hard while checking him out. "I'm just showing up earlier than normal." You fix your coat, trying desperately to distract yourself from Techno. You look away from him, mentally yelling at the fact he kept calling you 'darling' and how it made you want him to keep calling you that. "Around 20 minutes earlier?" He glances at his watch. He slowly walks to the front of his desk, he leaned against it, his feet still touching the ground. Now he was only a few steps away. "Sorry. If I'm interrupting you from your work, I can leave you be." You plead, taking a step back away from him and the desk, he quickly stands up once again.

His hands fidget before speaking, "No, No, Could- Would you like to help me with grading after class?" He tripped over his words. He reaches behind his neck with his hand, letting out a huff. Scratching the back of his neck nervously.

You look back to him. How could you say no to this opportunity. "I would gladly." Once saying it you knew you shouldn't have but you couldn't help yourself from him. That devilishly handsome smile came upon his face along with a wink, "Great, I need someone with a brain." You blush at his complement and his wink, he heads back to his chair. Getting back to his grading. 

You stand there for a moment before taking a seat, rushing to your normal seat.

"If I do help could I get an A on this project?" You ask while shaking your shoulders. You knew he would or have to say no, but it was fun to play around with him. "No I can't just give you an A, you have to earn it darling." His eyes never left the paper below him as he marked it with red ink. But he did like your snarky comments and it put a smile on his face.

Soon after the 20 passed, the class began to pour in the students, seeing Wilbur, Toby, and Tommy come in as a group. They quickly find you and sit next to you.

"Hey guys, you ready?" You ask while pulling out your laptop. "Hell yeah, I'm going to talk the shit out of this!" Tommy excitedly says while nodding to himself. You weren't going to question what he exactly meant by that, but Wilbur gives you the same look of questioning to Tommy.

Talking to them about how your weekend went for a few minutes before Techno took the attention of his class. "Alrightty class! I'll give you around 30 minutes before I call your groups to present! Okay?" He long-gates on the "around" to think about time. His eyes landing on yours for a mere of a second. But that's all that you need to be taken by your whole sense. "Okay! Get to talkin'!" He stood up, deciding to walk around the class.

And of course, he had to stop at your group first.

The four of you looked up at him as he approaches  you and he bent over and began to talk you and the guys, "How's the project going for you all?" He asked nicely, Tommy took initiative first. "Really good Sir, th- thanks again for helping us with it." He shoulder bumps you, hitting your arm. You quitely 'Ow.' him before speaking to your Professor. "Yes, thank you Techno- Sir." You quickly fix on to call him Sir. You mentally slap yourself, the guys seemed to pass on what you said. Wilbur questioned in his head, but didn't want to say anything. "Yeah! We weren't able to figure anything out till we made Y/n go talk to you." Toby adds, a bright toothy smile with him.

Wilbur thanked the teacher as well. Techno nodded off to your group, a little hesitant with you calling him his name in front of your classmates. But he still walks up to the next group.

Fixing yourself in your chair as it was becoming more uncomfortable. Wilbur takes notice of you moving around in your seat and becoming less in the conversation. "You okay there?" He whispers to you, making sure not to pull Tommy or Toby's attention. "Yeah-Yeah, I'm just not going to present." You stutter out, cringing at how he would overreact. But he didn't. "Oh, well. Okay." He was slightly confused as to why you weren't. "You don't mind if I ask why?" He looks down, seeing you shake your leg up and down quickly. "I'm just not that... Comfortable with it. I have some stage fright." You chuckle out, trying to calm yourself. He seemed to somewhat understand.

Toby seems to take notice of your little conversation, choosing to step in. "Whatcha guys chatting about?" Now taking Tommy in as well. Great. "I was just tell Wilbur I will showing the slides and not talking." You have to explain, you were still on the stage, but at least you didn't have to look at the crowd or speak. "I thought that's what I'm doing?" Toby asks while quirking an eyebrow. Wilbur answers for you, "Well, Y/n is going to be doing that. Are you good with that?" You look back and forth between the two boys.

Toby shakes his head in agreement, you silently thank them.

But before you could say anything else Techno speaks. "Okay the first group is going up..." He holds a paper, looking down at it. "...And that will be Alice!" He points to the group behind you.

You look over to the guys, they all seem to relax as your group wasn't the first up. You have to calm yourself down.

Techno grabs a long hook from the back of the room. He stands in the middle and reaches the hook up at the ceiling, seeing it was a pull down projector. Which seemed to make more sense as you wondered where the projector was in the first place.

The first or Alice's group does their presentation. Along with a few others before your group was called.

"And the second to last group is going to be... Y/n's group!" Your heart was pounding as you stood up from your seat. Grabbing your laptop and walking down to his desk to pug it in. As you pass your Professor he quickly whispers to you, "Just breath, in and out." You slightly nod to him, continuing to his desk.

As you connect everything in you pull up the project and Wilbur starts it off.

-----

Finishing the project with Tommy saying the last words, his charisma never died. It was really impressive, Toby was more on the quiet side, Wilbur was the most calm and a bit more explainive then the other two. And you just keep the slides moving and you were fine with it. Going back to our seats, you had to sit through one more project and then class would end.

Remembering you had to help Techno with grading after class. Pulling out your phone from your pocket, knowing you had to message Minx that you were going to show up later.

Y/n to Minx:

Heyyyy I'm not going not going to have enough time to show up for lunch

You sent it, looking up as you wait for her to text you back. Watching the presentation of the last group in the meanwhile. Then shifting to see Techno really focusing on what they were saying. It was strange to say, but it was really attractive. His stern face as he marked down on his paper for the group, it just made him look very professional. And you all for it.

But seeing that Minx tested you back you had to look away from him.

Minx to Y/n:

Wat?!!!!! But I wanna eat

Y/n to Minx:

Then just get food?????

Looking back up from your phone to see if anyone was looking at you. But as you turn to the guys they were also on there phone.

Minx to Y/n:

It's not the same :(

You scroff softly at her message, making sure no one could hear you

Y/n to Minx:

How bout we get coffee later, I'll pay again

Minx to Y/n:

Fineeeeeeeeeeee but why are you not showing for lunch????

Staring down at the message, it made you slightly embarrassed to say. Which confused you, all you were doing was helping your incredible handsome teacher that you had a crush on grade papers. Fuck.

Y/n to Minx:

I'm helping out my Professor with grading

Minx to Y/n:

Lame

You turn you phone off as the group was done with their presentation. The guys turn their phones off too.

Techno pulls the projector up and faces the class.

"I just wanna tell everyone that they did a good job with these projects!" You could see his toothy smile from where you sat. "But unfortunately I do have homework to give out." His smile drops, some students groan at him. Including Tommy, which the three of us turn towards him. Which makes Tommy cringe at what he just did. Toby slamming his arm at how rude that was.

Techno leans on his desk front before saying, "Come get these papers and then leave cause class just ended." His phone timer went off right on time as he said that class ended.

Everyone started to stand while grabbing all their stuff. Letting the boys out first, waving off to them as they leave in their small group. You let a couple of people behind you leave first before you head down to Techno. Walking up to him and grab a piece of paper, but staying behind.

Both of you watch as the last person leaves.

"Now, do you want to grade here?" He asks while going to the back of his desk, you just stand there, unsure. "Or if you like we could go to my office for more privacy." His office. Just the two of you. Alone. This man was making it very difficult for you.

Your mind is taken out completely, just picturing him spreading you across his desk, bending you over, begging for him...

Your perverted thoughts were quickly erased, which you were glad that happened. Techno's hand was waving in front of you, trying to get your attention. "You alright there?" He has a stack of papers in his other hand.

He softly chuckles as you blush. Thinking for a moment, "When I mentioned my office you seem to space out... I can see why." The cockiness in his voice was too much for you.

The final puzzle piece was now connected, he figured it out. Now it wasn't hard for him to know that you were into him, but how he made it so embarrassing for you. How each time he was near you it made you all flustered.

"I could help you carry those papers." You offer your help which he simply declines. "I got it darling." He starts heading towards the door.

He walked past you, "Come along now." He gestures to the door and for you to follow him. You tightly grab on your bookbag and head to the doors. Opening them for him, but he let pass him first, but while doing so you glimpse up at him, how his hair was so beautiful in the light.

You have to open his office doors as well.

You sit in the same chair as you always do when you come to his office. Which now seems like you are doing quite often. He walked in slowly, you felt like prey to a hawk in the moment. .

He's behind his desk, putting down the papers. He takes off his suit coat and tucks it behind his chair. Along with his maroon best, "Sorry, its hot in here." At this point he was teasing you and it was fucking working.

Handing you a pen from the multiple pen he had in his can. You gladly take from him as well as your first paper. He also gives you the cheat sheet to grade with.

Both of you grade more a few moments, some small talk about what you learned in class and what classes you had after this one.

"I said you were smart when I first met you, that's why I'm asking you to help me with grading these papers." His grin was distracting you at a point that his words were fading in the background. Just how his lips curve so perfectly.

"Is that the only reason why?" You simply ask while you started marking the paper, you didn't think of what you were saying till it was too late to take back. Realizing what you said and how he could take it, it made you want to stand up and rush out of the room.

He places down his pen, "Is there a another reason you think of?" He quirked an eyebrow up at you, which you just stare down at the paper. How could you just say that?

You couldn't think of something to say, "No Sir- I don't know why I said that. I am so sorry-." He sits up straight, catching you mid sentence. "Because I can think of something." He says while pushing himself away from his desk, standing up. "And again, you don't have to call me Sir." His tone was low and deep.

He slowly steps closer to you, making you have to look up at him, making you face up to what you said and what you meant. He knew what he was doing, knowing how you felt about him. But your mind just melted into nothing. Just staring at the man caused you to forget everything around you.

He thought the same, slightly more amusing that he had this type of affect over you. But nonetheless you did the same to him. Making him forget the lessons he was supposed to teach when he catches your eye during his sessions.

There were no words to explain what was happening between the two of you. In the simplest form, the two of you couldn't stop thinking about each other.

As you stand from the chair he still towers over you. Your eyes look into each other, the both of you slowly reach out for each other. You were still unsure what was happening, it was happening all too fast for you to process.

Once meeting, the both of you pull each other close. Lips mer of an inch away from each other. The only room you had was to stare at his lips or his eyes, which he was doing the same.

"May I kiss you?" He softly spoke in a whisper, only for you to hear. His eyes flickered back to your eyes, searching for an answer, slight worry in his eyes. "Yes..." In the same tone and whisper as him.

Slowly you leaned into him, his hands went towards your cheek and side. Yours went to his neck. There was no time to think, you just felt as if this was right. Your lips connect, it was intoxicating. His thumb on your cheek caresses you.

Your hands pull him down a you push yourself closer to him while on your tippy-toes. Your hands wonder up to his hair, how fluffy and soft it felt as you imagined. Letting your hands sink into his hair.

While doing so his hand from your side holds you close, pulling you towards him. Your chest pushes up against his. The kiss became more passionate by the seconds.

He slightly turns the both of you so your back was touching his desk. Getting his message, you hop your butt on his desk. You let go of his hair, which was looking like a mess. He comes closer, filling in the gap that was in-between the two of you.

He breaks off the kiss, leaning down to kiss your cheek to your jaw line and to your neck. Peppering small ones that would scatter your neck. Your hands connect onto his shirt. Soft airy moan escape from your lips. "This is a bad idea for me and you." You huff out, holding on to his buttoned shirt. He stops kissing your neck. Lifting his head up, almost in shame. The two of you staring into each other's eyes. "I know and I totally agree." He shakes his head, his heavy breaths the only thing you could hear other than your own heart pounding in your chest.

"Your my Professor." You bite the inside of your cheek, it was becoming difficult to contain yourself from kissing him as he looked flushed with pink cheeks and hair a wreck. "Your my student." He looked away, it was hitting him that this wasn't exactly planned out. Questioning how this would even work.

Seeing that he starting to regret this decision. You quickly pull his attention back to you by harshly grabbing at his shirt. "Let's just keep kissing, it's just me and you." He didn't think for another second, cupping your face back into a kiss.

-----

"How'd grading go?" Minx asks with an attitude, you knew she was upset that you didn't have your normal lunch hangout with her. But what just happened, it didn't really affect you.

You shortly left after that little conversation, but before 10 more minutes of just making out with him.

You take a sip of your coffee, "It went fine, I couldn't stay long." You slight choke on your drink, she questions as to why. "He had a meeting to go to." She looks at your demeanor, how quickly you wanted to pull the attention away from your Professor. "How was the presentation then?" She asks, taking out her phone. "Good. The guys let me do the slides so I didn't talk." She scrolls down on her phone. "Awe that's sweet of them." She looks up at you, which you smile at her.

But your mind just kept going back to his office. What happened in there, how much you craved to be back there.

tag list:

@sadassflatass

#mcyt #mcyt fic #mcyt fanfiction #technoblade #technoblade x reader #professor technoblade x reader #techno #techno x reader #professor #x reader

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Want to be on the tag list?: Tag list form

A/n: Hi!! Here’s chapter 2!!! This chapter is from Elias’s POV, the rest of the chapters will be a combo of the two (and probably one or part of one) will be from Brock’s POV eventually😁 these first two chapters are more just setting up everything. please let me know what you think! All feedback is appreciated!!!!

Warnings: A LOT of cursing (sorry...sorta), Petey not listening, might be a little cheesy (I’m not sorry), an attempt at Swedish (pls let me know if It’s wrong), I think that’s it, lmk if I missed one

Paring: Elias Pettersson X Fem!Reader

Genere: enemies-ish —>friends —> lovers

Legend: on chapter 1

Word Count: 1.8k (this is the shortest one)

Summary: Yeah so, Elias has a “teenage-reminiscent” crush on the one girl he was terrified to like, so he makes a plan to just be her friend, it doesn’t go to well, so he makes a new one.

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

PRESENT

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

Petty had a crush on Y/N. Y/N Boeser, the one fucking girl he can't have. His best friend's little sister.

When he met her at the mid-point of his rookie year, he'd already heard a lot about her. Brock had told him so many stories and he learned so much about the infamous Y/N, and the more he learned, the more he really liked her. Then there were the other stories Brock told him, the ones that included guys. One he recalls quite clearly.

November, 2018

They were sitting on Brock’s couch, watching One Tree Hill,

“Petey, have I ever told you about Chad?” Brock started.

“No, why?”

“Chad was my best friend in middle school, all the way up to my senior year. Then he wanted to date Y/N.”

“What do you mean ‘up to’ your senior year?” His attention was taken away from the show completely at the mention of her name.

“Well, I told him I didn’t want him to go out with her, but that it was her choice, not mine. So he asked her out, and they dated for like 3 months. Then he broke her heart.”

“What did you do?” Elias was curious.

“Oh, I broke his face”

Elias was shocked, he’d never known Brock to be anything but a (slightly obnoxious) ray of sunshine. “...oh, uh... so what happened to Chad after that?”

“I stopped being friends with him, and so did the rest of my group of friends. Normally I’m not like that, but he messed with Y/N/N.”

“Yeah, I get that. My brother’s girlfriend is basically like my sister and if anyone hurt her, I don’t know what I would do.”

“Yeah so anyways-“

Elias zoned out as Brock kept talking, just thinking about what would happen if he asked Y/N out. He decided then that no matter how perfect and incredible she was, it wasn’t worth his friendship and career with his best friend. He’d just be her friend if anything. And who knows, maybe he’d never even meet her in person.

_______

Now, as he’s walking to the break room Brock asked him to meet him in, he's remembering tjrs how ignorant that plan was. Because once he met her, it was a lot more challenging than he could’ve imagined. The second he met her in person, that plan was incinerated as a possibility.

Dice and ice (February)  2019:

Elias showed up 20 minutes early, he is so nervous. This is his first dice and ice and from what people told him, he knows this isn’t his kind of event. He’s not social, he’s an awkward Swedish hockey player. Not to mention the amount of extra attention he’s sure to get tonight. Brock had told him how much attention he received when he was the star rookie, and that made Elias even more anxious. Thanks, Brock. 

He paced near the front waiting for Brock to get there, imagining all of the ways he could humiliate himself in front of everyone. He was in between “eating too much fancy food and throwing up” and “getting so nervous he forgets how to speak English” for being the worst.

Just as he started to get nauseous from remembering the rookies have to do a performance every year, he found himself unable to breathe. This wasn’t because of the inevitable doom tonight was bound to bring though. He saw the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen on the arm of his best friend. Her dress, her hair, her makeup, her legs, everything he could see was just beautiful.

“Petey!” Brock shouted. 

Elias couldn’t speak still but he made eye contact with Brock. 

“Woah bud, you doin’ ok?” He said with a concerned look.

A choked, “Uh…” was the only thing that came out. Though, he felt that was a sufficient answer to Brock’s question. Elias’s eyes made their way back to the girl now standing behind Brock, since Brock took it upon himself to grab Elias’s face and get very close. He inspected Elias, seeing if maybe he was sick or had a concussion. 

Brock must have been satisfied with what he saw since he took a step back, letting go of Elias’s face. That’s when he noticed his best friend looking at his “date” for the night. 

“Petey, this is Y/N/N, Y/N/N Petey,” Brock said, gesturing to the two of you. 

“Y/N/N?” He asked, suddenly able to speak again. He was looking at Brock with scrunched eyebrows. ‘Is it actually her?’ was all her could think.

“Yeah, Y/N/N, you know, my sister that I’ve told you about at least 20 times?”

Elias nodded and looked back at her.

She waved a little, “Hi, it’s Elias right?” she asked.

“Hmm? Uh, yeah, that’s right.” if he wasn’t sweating before, he definitely was now. “It’s Y/N?”

She nodded “yeah but you can call me Y/N/N, most people do.”

He likes her first name though, he thinks it’s such a perfect name, so he decided to just call her Y/N.

All three of them stood there awkwardly for a moment. Though to Elias, it felt like it could’ve been a few hours. He was completely mesmerized and terrified by you.

Brock cleared his throat, pulling Elias back to the world, “so, let’s head inside?”

“Yeah sounds good,” Elias walked in and held the door open for her and Brock.

Walking in right behind them was Jacob, he put his hand on Elias’s shoulder.

“mår du bra? du ser sjuk ut. (are you okay? You look sick.),” he asked.

“Jag kommer att bli bra (I will be fine),” he responded with an unconvincing grin.

As the night went on, Elias couldn’t seem to relax; he kept making sure his tie was straight and he couldn’t stop fixing his hair. For a while, he had to take pictures with the fans and families, with Brock...obviously.

“You just need to relax, Petey,” he had said this about 5 times already.

“I know, I just don’t want to embarrass myself, I’m not very social. I hate these events.”

Brock chuckled, “I swear, the more I learn about you, the more and more I think you and my sister are the same person. The only reason why she’s here is cause I bought her a new fancy dress and cause she’s gonna try and kiss some ass and get a job with management.”

“Wait, so she’s moving here?”

“Oh yeah, I asked her to. Depending on if she gets the job, of course, which she’s sure to get with her resume.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Hey, I’m gonna go find her, you need to relax, just breathe,” Brock said as he stood up to walk away, “And stop imagining the worst things that could happen,” knowing his best friend all too well.

Elias walked over and sat with Bo and Holly, just trying to get through this night without having a panic attack.

The rest of the night went fine, no vomiting or forgetting English, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Because of his luck, that’s when he saw Y/N, and he couldn't look away. She was standing in the corner, looking insanely nervous. Before he could think about it, he was walking over to her. 

“You doing ok?” he asked.

“That obvious?”

He looked down at his shoes, “Hey, at least you don't look sick like I did apparently.”

That made her laugh, one of the happiest sounds he’d ever heard. “Yeah, you didn’t look too happy to be here.”

“Well, these events aren’t really my thing. I heard they aren’t yours either?” he finally looked in her eyes, which was not a smart decision.

“God, no, absolutely not. I hate these things, I don’t get why I need to dress like this and kiss up to people to get a job that I’m already very qualified for.” She took a pause, “even though I do love this dress...”

There was a little silence as Elias wasn’t sure what to say, he decided on, “If it helps, you look very pretty, and I like that dress too.” 

She blushed, “thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself, Elias”

The way she said his name sent chills up his spine, Brock introduced him as Petey, but not once had she called him that. She only called him Elias, and it sounded perfect coming from her mouth. The thing about her was, the more he looked at her, the more beautiful she became in his eyes. The way she laughed, the way she stood with her legs crossed, the way she constantly crossed her arms. To most she probably seems unwelcoming cold, and closed off but to Elias, he saw someone just like himself and-

Oh shit, what is he doing?

He’s literally doing the exact opposite of what he said he was going to, he needs to get away from her. He needs a drink is what he really needs.

That’s when Brock walked over, “hey! There are the two most unfun people in this place!”

“Jackass,” she quipped.

“I’m gonna go talk to Marky,” Elias said, trying to make his escape.

“Fine then, leave me to avoid socializing alone, I guess” she called at him sarcastically.

He nervously laughed and turned around, quickly making his way to the patio that he knew was empty.

Once he got outside he took a deep breath. “Fuck,” he sighed.  He stood there thinking of what he needed to do. He couldn’t end up like ‘Chad,’ he had to stop whatever this is that’s happening to him when he saw her. He’s never felt like this, he’s never even had a girlfriend for Christ’s sake. How the hell did he feel like this for a girl he doesn’t really know? He wished he’d never met her; when he’d never met her in real life, he could imagine she looked weird, or maybe she was really rude (not that he thought anyone related to Brock could be rude). However, that could not have been farther from the truth. She was amazing, and so incredibly beautiful, but not in the conventional way like most of the WAGs here tonight, most of them fit the “hot model, super social, 50,000 picture taking” stereotype that Elias personally didn’t find all that appealing. Shes the perfect height for him, perfect size for him, her hair color and length was even perfect, and that was the problem. She was everything he didn’t want her to be, and more. Her personality was exactly what he wished his future wife’s personality would be: sweet with a little bit of sass, would rather stay inside, doesn’t take shit from people, while still a bit awkward, witty humored, sports loving, lazy Sunday having, and just goddamn perfect. The first word that came to mind when thinking of Y/N, was just that: Perfect.

So he knew what he had to do, he couldn’t be her friend. One small conversation proved that tonight. He had to avoid her as best he could, and do the things he didn’t want to do to her: be cold, shut her out, not talk to her alone. It was going to be incredibly difficult, but he valued Brock's friendship too much.

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

PRESENT

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As he looks back, it was the best decision. It was definitely torturous to him, but he had to. Especially after literally every one of his closest teammates was basically like a big brother to her, or a best friend, or a “cuddle buddy” whatever that meant. He can’t even imagine what would happen now. JT, Bo, Brock, Troy, Thatcher, Marky, even Quinn would have his head if he tried anything. And God if he wasn’t terrified of the rage in JT’s eyes when anyone messed with Y/N, it wasn’t human and no one can convince Elias otherwise...seriously fucking terrifying.

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

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#from a distance: series #hockey #nhl #elias pettersson #vancover canucks #elias pettersson fic #elias pettersson imagine #elias pettersson imagines #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks imagines #vancouver canucks imagine #elias pettersson x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine

[hauntedelation]

𝐃𝐮𝐥𝐜𝐞𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

(Pic found on Pinterest, I don’t own!)

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — Lee is in attendance at a summer block party. Only, he walks himself into a situation after searching for water in the home of a wealthy young girl’s.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — Black Female Reader x Sheriff Lee Bodecker

𝐀/𝐍 — I watched The Devil All The Time the other night and something overcame me. This is probably my most shameless attraction. (It just had to be that damn crooked cop.)

I made this set in the 1980s because I prefer that decade far more and...well there was this song. I wrote this in third person point of view, but it is for readers. No name is given other than a younger brother. I apologize for any errors here y’all, but please enjoy!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 3.3k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — brief descriptions of past addiction, minor smut (18+ please!), sexual tension, mutual pining, age difference (Reader is in her early 20s, Lee is, well Lee), pet names, some minor mentions of praying or religion.

Here is a link back to my masterlist, please enjoy!

──────✧──────

The thing about Lee Bodecker is that man couldn't outright help himself to a lot. Temptation is a cruel, cruel notion to him. He'd imagined many times that if she was real, her aura would emanate unadulterated peril, motioning with her body light as air and with suggestion. He would not stand a chance.

He could never keep certain things in the realm of moderation. Already given into a sliver of that temptation with those glass bottles, the brown liquor was gradually replaced with sugar. Neither was all that good for the man, anyone could see that. Still, Lee was fixed on that plan there. In his mind, he knew those wrapped candies were far better than putting his liver through hell.

A man with a shimmering badge, a pressed uniform, and regulation in his worn hands. He had access to it all, any distinct thing in that small town. Hell, he could move on up if he wanted, maybe set his sights on a bigger resistance. 

His eyes had seen a lot in those years under that wide-brimmed hat; he figured that there wouldn't be much shock if he changed location anyway. Up until now, with every attempt the man made to file the paperwork, there would be something coming up to stop that process in its tracks. Every time, the due date was pushed back.

In a strange manner, he was restricted. Something has him pinned to Knockemstiff. No, it wasn't the joy of family, a wife to share life with. The fed-up woman parted ways with him a few years before. 

It couldn't have been him standing in that still kitchen, the back screen door and the windows allowing an easy breeze in. Children's cries flowed in with the chatter of adults, maybe even the scent of that sizzling meat on the grill. A fine neighborhood barbeque was in play but he wasn't thinking much of it.  

Lee swallowed the water down thick, the delicate glass in his hand placed down behind him. He had gone in after greeting the many people outside, participating in the short conversations that casually came. It was a hot one today, the man soon realized he would require refreshment. He'd been directed inside and, upon entering the nice home he enjoyed the relief from the blazing afternoon sun.

However, Lee wasn't paying attention to where his hands were moving, not on the glass of ice water in his hand. No ma'am.

There was a sweet girl sitting real pretty on the countertop across from him. Her aura obscured the room under the shade of risk, her legs and her manicured nails gesturing consciously. She settled on back and let her hair fall free behind her shoulder, revealing the most angelic face he's ever seen.

He had a choice in this instance. He knew he could smile politely, tip his hat to the young girl and turn back on his way. But as Lee Bodecker stood there merely four feet away he felt his eyes trail after those invisible signals. 

Down her neck where a heart-shaped necklace lay. Down her heaving chest, the swell of her white cotton shirt and her soft stomach peaking below. Down where her navy blue skirt wrapped around her hips, the hem—

The hem was drawn higher up those thighs. Gliding just past her belly button was where he stopped. There was ceramic, an eggshell paint with neat little brush strokes around the rim. Must've been one of her Momma's dishes that only was brought out during special times. 

That bowl carried glistening treats, strawberries, cherries and he's thinking maybe even raspberries. The girl's nails matched the shade of the contents of the bowl. And, he would too follow them, tired eyes glazing over.

On the portable radio residing just over in the dining room, Lee started to hear a song. Not being caught up in today's music much, he was clueless until the announcer voiced what was playing next: ‘A song by Exposé, Let Me Be The One.’

The song playing appeared to have been a favorite of hers, as she flashed her smile and tapped her nails to the rhythm. Sheriff Bodecker said nothing yet, unclear on what was really happening in front of him. It was his character to acknowledge people of the town, he was well known for that. He didn't wish to show any scorn to the girl.

Especially not when she brought a bright red strawberry from between her legs, up to her lips, and sunk her pearly white teeth in.

The girl bit down well until that juice spilled over her lower lip. That droplet wavered staying there, somewhat spilling over and dripping down her chin. She had nearly ruined her outfit and didn't seem all that bothered by it. But Lee?

His heart was pounding real forcefully against that star on his chest. It took his fingers a second to wrap around the brim of his hat, removing the damn thing so he could let his hair breathe. Perspiration was gathering, he was hoping it didn't show too much.

She giggled and the sound barreled through the man's gut. "You look a little warm there."

That hat was placed somewhere nearby his glass of water. Bodecker pushed out a laugh from his chest yet he felt it sounded too shaky. His shoes moved against the tile of her kitchen, hand resting on his hip while he tried to lean real cool against the counter. 

He cleared his throat. In a hoarse voice he addressed that fine girl sitting before him, "Miss," and her father's last name spilled out of his mouth. He had to clench his jaw because, yes, this man is right here losing himself over someone's daughter. 

And that someone was surely at this get-together today, perhaps just outside. How he began to sweat more mulling it all over.

"Sheriff Bodecker," she answered, taking another bite from that strawberry at her fingertips. She wiped her chin at this point with a cloth napkin.

The symbol on that shirt of hers was an embroidered emblem, gold, and red. The silhouette of a wildcat prowled inside, with the words of a private college name curling underneath. Just as the man thought, this girl was on summer break from her sumptuous college several miles away.

He couldn't believe that it was that time of the year already, he remembers last seeing her when the leaves were falling from the trees. Lee knew but he needed that pretty young thing to confirm it to him, "I see you're home from college now isn't that right?"

She placed the napkin down and took another bite of the strawberry, nodding her head at him. She only answered when he finished chewing and swallowing.

"Yes sir, and I must say that I missed everyone while I was away."

Her voice lingered in the air, and the sheriff didn't know what to say. To him, it felt like she wasn't done speaking. Within a few beats, a roar of laughter from her backyard broke the quiet play of the music between them. He considered the barbeque for a moment. But, Lee performed a double-take at the ensuing words.

"I think I missed you the most, Sheriff."

Lee said a prayer, eyes falling shut for a split second. The man knew full well that it had been years since he did something such as that. (Now what would that have done now?) He didn't want to believe it, no he was looking at an illusion, he didn't hear those set of words that kicked up his heart rate.

God almighty, Lee chanted to himself. The girl spread her legs a bit more, bringing that bowl closer to the space between. That same hand began to play with the cherries in the bowl, nails twirling the stems about. 

Her head was tilted to the side, a simper climbing on that pretty face. She caught the flesh of her lip between her teeth and past her lashes, she looked him up and down. 

Taking in every inch of his body, no aversion with his belly hanging slightly over his belt, no distaste with his thighs filling his brown trousers. That girl's eyes were kind, pulling away shyly when he caught her look. 

Pride filled every cavity within him, his shoulders standing a little straighter. It was then, Lee decided to saunter a bit closer to the girl, all while she was good and timid. He placed his hand on his belt and pushed away from the countertop.

Each and every footstep fell between the two, the pressure in his chest stacking higher. Bodecker felt an inkling to carry on, shrugging away any doubt in the back of his mind. Probably against better judgment.

The girl took in a profound breath, getting herself together in advance to returning those sparkling eyes to him. He only took a few steps, now planted inches away from the counter. His middle was a hair's breadth away from grazing her smooth legs. 

"Is that so?"

He counted the dark bands around her cotton knee socks, holding back on letting his fingers trace the linework. 

"Now, why would a beautiful girl such as you miss an old man like me?" 

Lee's voice lowered, almost graveling near the edges. His accent had become syrupy, letting that embrace of enticement play with him. He couldn't help it.

She released her lower lip. It was starting to swell from the pressure she's been applying, though the Sheriff caught her rosy tongue dart out to soothe the mark. One of her hands found his tie and like the fruit in the bowl, she began to fiddle with it.

He genuinely hoped to get an answer out of the girl, for Lee couldn't fathom why. What made her so taken with him? Ever since her family moved to that little old town in the longest Cadillac he had ever seen, there had been some sort of bearing.

She strolled right by him holding onto a basket of baked delicacies one day, but she didn't fail in stopping to address him tenderly. Lee welcomed her to the town, and the girl held out a homemade muffin. Right then he felt his cheeks were burning, red as a tomato. The Sheriff accepted that muffin from her hands, thanking her real kindly.

It was then that he and that girl started moving in separate directions. Far too soon for his liking and toward the same ones they originally were walking in. She tilted her head to the side and promised the man many more just as long as he did a good job protecting the town. Sheriff Bodecker's blue eyes captured that sight, almost breaking his neck trying to watch her walk away. 

Lee remembers speaking to her mother at the coffee shop one fine morning, noting that her family wished to get away from the busier city. Additionally, this location cut down the drive time to her university. 

He was thinking about the odds of that, never in a million years would he have thought people with so much wealth would come to Knockemstiff. That family had more money than several families combined.

Whatever the microscopic chances of this happening again, Lee thanked whoever has control of it all. He reflected on that while he gazed down at her flawless nails twirling his tie. 

She'd gone quiet, and somewhere inside of him, he feared that he had crossed a line until she cleared her throat and spoke to him.

"Well...I enjoy talking to you. Seeing you drive around town always makes me feel protected."

Lee grinned, most likely appearing boyish under the afternoon sun. He was flattered beyond all belief. The man assumed she didn't pay that much attention to him. He could see the girl having just about everyone on that campus wrapped around her finger. 

He knew that he'd become a victim to it, that puzzling charm ensnared within her. "That makes me glad to hear, babydoll."

Lee knew that the corners of his eyes wrinkled the more he beamed down at her. The girl merely took in his face with wonder, even then struggling to hold eye contact. He noticed her attention flick away the moment the name slipped from his mouth, her finding the fruit in the bowl more interesting at that moment.

"Are uh...are those there your favorite to eat?"

She hummed to Lee, wetting her lips, "Yeah," then she gestured with her head to the back to the direction of the screen door, "-’s perfect for a hot day like this."

The man got an idea, letting it sink into his brain before he chose to move his hand to rest on her bare thigh. He felt her fingers close around his tie in response. The contrast in his skin with hers delayed Bodecker's thought process for a beat. She was so very delicate, close to the texture of flower petals. 

"You know you always come around me with the sweetest things in your hands."

He inhaled deeply, before he skimmed his palm over toward the bowl, carefully maneuvering around her fingers to pluck a healthy-looking raspberry from the pile. Lee dragged his eyes back up to her face and made sure she was paying him attention,

"You make it hard for a man to turn you away, darlin'. I don’t know how but you just do."

Lee removed more distance from between them, catching on that she was not pushing him away but bringing him in closer by his necktie. He let his other hand rest right next to her hip on the counter, guiding the raspberry closer to her full lips. 

And, wouldn't he have lost it right there. She’d began to accept the fruit into her mouth, those lips and her teeth brushing his fingertips while she did so. The Sheriff held his breath, his mouth parting as he witnessed her pupils expand. Under the veil of the afternoon sun, that girl took the raspberry from his hand.

Bodecker cradled her cheek in that same hand feeling her jaw move while she bit into it. Up and down he brushed his thumb against her face. He attempted to wipe away any remaining juices from her lip before he was taken aback by them opening once more. 

Her tongue, inviting and curling under his thumb pad send a shiver along his spine.

Again, that girl took hold of what was offered to her. It was something Lee never intended but he couldn’t pull away if he wanted to. She took his digit into her warm mouth, sliding her hand from the bowl to wrap around his wrist. Her lips closed just around the padding of his thumb as she sucked at the red liquid from the raspberry seconds before. Those eyes locking with his and causing the man to lose himself deep within.

There was a brief moment in which the music playing faded out, any voices or laugher outside falling under that same treatment. Everything but the wet pop of her removing the Sheriff’s thumb from her mouth.   

Lee’s hand went partially slack, dragging saliva down her chin. She had not let go of his wrist, and in those eyes of hers, he saw a flicker of coquetry in the dark color. He had leaned forward before he thought of anything else and pressed his mouth to hers.

There, shifting to gently grasp her jaw he positioned her head to let him take it deeper, farther so his tongue would find that sweet taste of the raspberry. The girl opened up for him, holding onto his tie as best as she could while letting gasps fall through. She tasted precisely like that fruit he gave her, and if he didn’t groan into her mouth while realizing it.

Between her legs that bowl rattled as Lee’s hips pressed inward, her arms ultimately let go from their previous position and slotted behind his head. Bodecker had fought a smirk when he pulled away. 

Here and there he dragged his lips, over her cheek, under her chin, and to her neck. Her captivating scent flocked his mind and he was sure if she hadn’t been squealing so much from the stubble on his face, he would have started nipping at her with his teeth.

He felt like a wild animal. Her nails flowed through his hair, tugging, and her voice sighed to him, “Sheriff,” Lee’s composure tumbled away from his grasp. He shushed her cries while he had his mouth attached to her skin.

Bodecker pulled away after a while and positioned his forehead to hers. There they breathed each other in and he watched through hooded eyes, her bitten lips puffing out small breaths of air. 

“Such a filthy, filthy little thing,” he drawled. That girl said nothing in return, only allowing that same look to inch over her features, letting those fingers massage at his clipped hair some more.

She got closer and her tongue eased out, moving to drag over his lips. The man’s lids drifted shut as he was falling into another slow, languid kiss. One of his hands was comfortably wrapped around her thigh. 

Before Lee was able to slide his palms any further below her skirt, a loud clatter resonated out, ripping the two away from each other. 

Bodecker fell back into the other side of the kitchen counter, his hand scrambling for any balance. The girl’s breath hitched inside her throat and brought the cloth napkin to hide her face. His eyes were wide and they scanned around the space reminiscent of what he did in his line of work.

In the once serene home, both heard the footsteps of an unknown person come hurrying in like a bat out of hell.

Rounding the corner soon enough was a child in overalls, wearing a brightly colored shirt underneath and their face drenched in sweat. Their thick-rimmed eyeglasses had been wiped by the sleeve of their shirt as they skirted to a stop and took in the two adults residing in the kitchen. 

The girl turned, and her shaken demeanor melted into pure disturbance and curiosity, “Jason?” Her hand fell from her face and landed in her lap. 

“What made you bust in here like that? Are you okay?” The young boy took many breaths in the same way most children did, all animated and taking their time. He seemed to be thinking over her words for a little while before he rasped,

“I need more juice; me and my friends are thirsty.”

Lee’s brows raised and he scrubbed a palm over his face. The child’s abrupt approach put the fear of God into him. What if it had been anyone else? What if we never noticed?

He chuckled in disbelief shortly before moving toward the right of him. Bodecker, being closest to that blue-tinted pitcher, took hold of it and made his way over to little Jason. The child’s eyes lit up as he grabbed hold of the jug of liquid. 

Crouching down to the boy, Lee spoke softly with a hand on his shoulder, “Now—you got it, son?” Jason’s head bobbed up and down avidly before he turned on his heel and lugged away the item he had been searching for.

Both Sheriff and the girl listened to what he assumed to be her little brother depart from the house, noting that telltale click of the back screen door after those staggered footsteps dissipated. Each waited before reluctantly turning back to each other.

Bodecker chewed on the inside of his cheek, lazily stepping back over to where his hat was left. He reached over and placed the article on top of his head, straightening it before turning back toward the moderately dazed girl. 

There was that warmth rising within his chest as he took her in. Lee connected his eyes with hers before he took a few steps closer. His smile fell lopsided, forcing out a delightful laugh from the girl. 

He reached into that bowl still between her thighs to retrieve a plump cherry. Bodecker popped it into his mouth before winking at the young girl, backing away and strolling the rest of his way out of the house.

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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — Ahh, I really wasn’t sure who would be interested in this. If you would like to be tagged in any future stories feel free to message me!

──────✧──────

#the devil all the time #lee bodecker #sheriff lee bodecker #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker fanfiction #lee bodecker x black!reader #lee bodecker x black reader #black reader #female reader #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan characters #dulcet inclination

[magnhild]

Before the Dawn didn’t ‘retcon’ Sun- an explanation from an actual writing major

Since the release of Before the Dawn, the sequel to RWBY’s After the Fall, I’ve seen a lot of different takes on it, but there’s a consistent one that it completely and utterly absurd- the idea that Sun Wukong’s persnality was ‘retconned’ for the book. The idea is, quite frankly ridiculous.

Before I get into why this take is so stupid, let me first explain what a retcon actually is, seeing as this fandom has so little understanding of the word. Retroactive continuity, often shortened as ‘retcon’ is a literary device that ignores or outright contradicts something already established in a work’s canon. For example, one actual retcon in RWBY would be the DC comics, while being canon, showing Ruby talking in full scentences shortly after Summer’s death, when Yang previously stated in the show that Ruby could barely talk when it happened.

A retcon is not something being explained differently or adittional information being given towards soemthing, even if these other details hadn’t been come up with to begin with. Salem’s backstory, for example, is not a retcon of the show’s opening narration, because not only is the opening narration very simplied so that it’s easier for the auidence to understand, but it’s also done by Salem herself, who would natutally not be telling the full story.

Now, the case with Sun is not the first time I’ve heard the claim that a character was retconned in the novels. While I don’t know if it’s at all a popular idea, one Redditor ranted at me in fury about how bad After the Fall must have been if it characterized Velvet as at all sassy because we’d never seen her that way in the books, ignoring my attempts to explain that, realistically, shy people are not going to be as shy around people they know well.

The couple of times I’ve shared these screenshots on Twitter were met with the same scorn I felt upon recieveing such responses (espeiclaly since the last comment was posted around two weeks after the rest of the conversation). So, when people failed to see that the situation with Sun was the same, it surprised me.

People claim that BTD characterized Sun completely differently as he is in the show. This is...weird, but I can slightly understand why people would jump to the conclusion that the personality he has in the book is somehow different to his personality in the show.

The first thing of note is that Sun still very much exhibits the personality traits that he’s known for; the positive ones. The very prologue of the book shows that, even in a fight, he’s still cheerful, easygoing and goofy, and we see several moments of this throughout the entire book. The second thing is that 99% of his scenes in the show are with Blake, who he has (or had) a literal crush on. Of course he would act differently around her and her friends than he would around his team, or people he didn’t care as much about. Right away, this shows that his personality was not contradicted and was, thus not retconned. But, of course, I have more to say than that.

The first big complaint regarding something that was indeed added in the book- or, at least, that we didn’t see in the show (given how Sun is not at all a character of focus) is that he’s shown to be angry and on-edge at certain points. And yes, this is not soemthing we saw of him in the show, but it’s also not out-of-character, and very easily understandable. Sun returned to his team expecting everything to be fine and dandy after a quick apology for leaving them, so when they don’t instantly forgive him and are still angry with him, he doesn’t understand, and thus becomes angry with them in return. He had an idea in his mind of how things would go, and when this didn’t go to plan and he continued to be confronted on his flaws, he can’t help but be a little salty about being treated this way by the people he’s known the longest among the main cast. For him, it’s a personal issue. The only reason we never saw him this angry in the show is because nothing ever personally affected him. He had no reason to be truly angry at anything because they were Blake’s problems, not his, and while he would natually want to help her out, he didn’t have any personal feelings towards the matter. But his team are supposed to be his friends, and here they are, not forgiving him after he apologized and everything. In his mind, he was being critizied even though he thought he’d fixed the problem with a simple apology.

The second big complaints are those of how Sun’s not-great relationship with his team throughout most of the book are contradictory to the last time we saw him in the show. People thought that his acknlowedgement of his shortcomings as a leader meant that he was going to be an instantly better one after the fact. These people fail to realize two major problems with this- the first being that there’s no rushing personal improvment. It’s very weird to me that people thought that Sun could instantly become a better leader when he was such a bad one in the first place. The second problem is that Sun, despite his name, is not the brightest bulb, and I say this in the nicest way possible. It’s made clear by both the show and the book that, while he acknowledged that he shouldn’t have ditched his team for several months without explanation, he still failed to realize the seriousness of his actions, or how the team dynamic was affected when he came back and took over again from Scarlet’s temporary leadership. As mentioned in the above paragraph, Sun thought that he could fix everything with a simple apology, and that it would absolve him of all wrongdoing. But more importantly, but the end of the book, he has realzied the weight of his negligence and that he needs to work harder to gain back respect from his team. And yet, critics ignore this and seem to this he acts badly throughout the whole book with no change in behaviour, when this couldn’t be further from the truth.

The third complaint, and the most absurd to me, is that Sun’s dismissiveness of serious situations and regular insensitivity in the book are out of character. Excuse me, but...did we watch the same show??

Perhaps it’s easy to forget because we haven’t seen him in show for a while, but these are two of his core personality traits, especially earlier on in the show. It seems that the fanon depiction of Sun as a sweet and loveable himbo who can do no wrong has caused a lot of people to forget his very prominent flaws, but Sun has always been this way, from as early as Volume 1. He treats serious situations as a joke or bit of fun, and he is constantly making insensitive comments, even to Blake, who he likes. Just to show a few, with replies from Blake for context regarding the second two:

From Black and White:

From Of Runaways and Stowaways:

From Menagerie:

Even in situations where he isn’t outright insensitive, he still frequently exhibits a struggle to read the room. He fails to understand why Team RWBY don’t want him and Neptune coming with them, he fails to fully understand why so many faunus take issue with humans despite being a faunus himself, and he fails to understand why stalking Blake across a continent was a very, very bad and creepy thing to do, even if he had good intentions. In fact, he never even apologises for any of this, at least, not that we saw, so it’s enitely plausible that it’s not soemthing he’s learned from.

So the fact that he continued to demonstrate this insensivity in BTD is very much in-character. That has always been a part of his personality, even though it’s often played off as a joke.

With all that said, it really bothers me that people list what is, in objective truth, a deeper insight into Sun as a character, as a flaw of the book. This is not a flaw. I’ve been studying writing through university for over four years, and believe me, showing that people act different depending on the situation or people they are around, as well as expanding upon any flaws they might have, is good writing. Something is not a ‘retcon’ because it contradicts your headcanon, or what you wanted to happen. That would be like if Nora were (not that I think she ever would be) confirmed cis and I called it a retcon because I headcanon her as trans. That would be stupid. 

After the Fall and Before the Dawn are honestly amazing books. They do have their issues, but character writing is far from one of them, and I would, in fact, consider it one of their biggest strengths. The way they flesh out both pre-existing and new characters, the way they can get us to love them within just 20-something chapters, is wonderful. They dive so deeply into even more minor characters, and make them all unique. So the idea that characters like Sun and Velvet were written badly because they were expanded upon and further characterized than they were in the show is an absolutely ridiculous concept, and one that I’ve hopefully changed people’s minds on with this.

Sun was not retconned. You guys just need to remember that the picture you paint of a character in your head is not always going to be the way a character is in canon. We’re not Adam defenders, people (at least, I hope not). 

Anyway. Read the RWBY books. I don’t care if you have already. Do it again.

#rwby #blaire rambles #sun wukong #rwby after the fall #rwby before the dawn #essay? #rant? #honestly i don't know what this is #long post

[boredoverlord]

Bucky X Reader - Hold the Line

I came in here to show you a good time, so here's my personal work and my very first fanfiction of all time. And because I'm a thirsty bitch, of course it's smut.

Summary : As a young and talented psychologist specializing in difficult people in prison, you believed in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work with the SHIELD. Turned out you were tricked to work for HYDRA.

For three years they made you do horrors in the name of an ideology you despised, but you may have found the occasion to finally make a change for the good, when they introduced you to your new patient. 

The Winter Soldier.

Rating : Explicit, please kids, look away ( of course you won't because you're cute little rebels, but please do it)

Word count : 6.4k (chapter 1)

TW:   Light BDSM (for now) Because Bucky is a massive Sub and it seems nobody agrees with me, so I have to do the lord's work here.

Foul language, mention of violence and murder, Masturbation, male orgasm and a tiiiny bit of choking. I started lightly 

 Please consider reading this on Archive of our own or read it below the cut. Lemme know what you think !

Chapter 1: A Story of Almost Everything

You never were the type to brag. But one thing you know is : you’re damn good at your job. Years and years of psychology studies, you barely got to parties, you hardly made any friends, and your sleeping schedule is still a nightmare. Those were sacrifices you did for one sole purpose : helping others. To be the last resort for people who have lost everything. You always firmly believed that you could make a change in the world, even the slightest, even for just one person. That would have been enough to make your lifetime worthy. What's more noble than just a genuine try to make it better, after all ? So you wasted your youth on studies, without a damn blink. And never one ounce of regret. You did it because it felt right. You’re not very brave, but you decided to face your fear a couple of times. You even were an intern in a high security prison, talking to broken men and women who hated your guts. Trying to lead them to another path of life. You heard stories that could break any mind. Only time could tell if you actually helped them. But that’s part of the job. Hope. And hard work.

  That’s why when you started to have a growing reputation, at 26 after five years of studies and several years working in prison and rehabilitation, you were ecstatic when S.H.I.E.L.D contacted you. You quit everything, starting with your homeland in Europe, to fly to Washington DC, to visit the headquarters. The new building, the thrill of novelty, the clean rooms, the medical wing, and Alexander Pierce himself coming to shake your hand and telling you personally the wonders they have in mind for the psychology field. You could prepare people to save the world, you could have all the resources to make research, and fix minds that were supposed to be beyond repair. It was supposed to be just a quick trip, but the visit wasn’t even done when you looked at your guide with enthusiasm : you weren’t going home. Just cancel the fly. You’re taking the job immediately.   It was three years ago.

Enough to understand how fucked you are.

 You didn’t save anyone, you didn’t even work to make the world a better place. Oh but you did work to make a change. A change for HYDRA. They tortured you to make you swallow their ideology, but even if your body surrendered, your mind didn’t, even if it was still a perpetual work on yourself. You never believed in this masquerade, but you know it doesn’t matter. Because HYDRA knows how good you are at your job, and you’re a precious asset. So precious that they pushed all your buttons to make you obey. You tried to act and escape. Their last resort is the Damocles sword they put over your family’s head. Next act of rebellion, heads will roll. And it won’t be yours : no, no. HYDRA won’t give you this relief. It will be your loved ones. So you’re doing what you have to do. It’s the most cowardly choice, you know it. And you’re ashamed. But you’re too terrorised to make it otherwise. So you’re here to twist people's minds to swallow whatever Hydra wants. You make them understand the importance of the organization, when they can’t take it anymore, you make them understand that not only they can, but they must . You saw vulnerable people giving their life to this awful cause, and you are the person to make them understand it was the right thing to do. They gave you kind people with dreams, morals and passion, and you turn this into anger, hate and war, worshipping a crazy doctrine that spoils everything you believed and fought for. You have blood on your hands. You’re THAT good at your job.

 So when they called you for a highly secret mission, you weren’t exactly surprised. Just disgusted by them, and mostly yourself. In the guts of what was called the Ideal Federal Saving Bank, you’re obediently following the chef himself : Alexander Pierce, to your next place of action. “I believe you have read your mission’s order, Y/N ?” “Yes Sir.” You said. “It did mention I will have the whole file today, though. I need to take a look at my patient so I can work in proper condition.” “Whatever you call it.” He said, opening the door of the clandestine laboratory in the now abandoned bank. If not for the machinery, we could still believe that those art deco walls filled with safes would still contain treasures of a lifetime for some people. Now there is nothing of value in here, not even the very skin of every PoS present. And you were including yourself. Making your way in the middle of the heavy set up, you slowly reach the pod in the middle, chewing secretly the interior of your cheeks. You know what’s inside, and it makes you want to puke. Mr Pierce continued “Doctor, as your mission was presented to you, your one on only assignment will be the physical and mostly the psychological perfect condition of the Winter Soldier, for the entire length of this mission on american soil.” Basically, be sure his brain is a fucking slushy. You reluctantly nodded and drew closer. “What’s his condition ?” At the top of your height, barely 5’3, you tiptoed to actually look at him by the window of the cryostasis chamber, since you never got this close of a look, not without the file and basically crumbs of info that were thrown at your face. They expected you to keep a dog on a leash, not making actual work on him, and it shows. White man, late 20s to early 30s, approx 5”7, long dark messy hair, not shaved, geez, it seemed like the poor guy was barely cleaned up before being pushed here.  Good physical condition, breathing was steady. You could see the steam of his breath on the glass. He may be clinically asleep, but she highly doubted he would be in his best shape. He looked uncomfortable, and tired. It wasn’t a restorative sleep. It was a prison. You couldn’t help but notice his prosthetic arm, even if that was the only thing you knew about him. It’s a fascinating work of science, that’s for sure. And even if transhumanism and biomechanical wasn’t your forte, you wanted to have a closer look, to satisfy your curiosity. One of the scientists watching his screen responded : “He’s gently defrozing, should be half conscious in 5 minutes. You may want to take a step down.” You ignore that, and lean your hand to your superior. “May I finally have what I have been asking for ?” With the most irritating smile, he gave you the Winter Soldier’s File and you quickly opened it to have a first look at all the fuss. Basic physical information, previous missions report, date of entering and ending of cryostasis, bare minimal medical record, notes by her predecessor, fucking trigger words to make him kneel like a 12 years old in front of any boysband... nothing about his previous life, his antics, his name, actual disorders, no name, nor adresses… You glaced a bit at Pierce and threw a polite smile. He knows what he’s doing, and he knows you know. You’re extremely good with very violent patients. You have endured rapists and murderers spiting in your face and swearing to bite your head off and fucking your skull. You were traumatized and you cried yourself to sleep, but the following day you did your job again. You’re just here to handle the worst of the worst. And you’re going to do it.

Or he’s going to break your neck and fuck your skull. You’re fine with that.

“Thank you it’s going to be very helpful.” As helpful as a band-aid on a wooden leg. “What’s this device ?” You point your chin to another machine not far away from it. One of the two men finishing installing it, raised his head to look at you. “A memory suppressing machine. Usually he doesn’t need it as much as he used to, but it’s mainly for safety. He must be prepared.” “He’s in a state where he willingly takes it. So don’t hesitate if he’s starting to be annoying, or excited. That can happen. But that mean you would probably have to work more with him to make him fully ready for his mission,” “Understood, thank you for clarification gentlemen.” You smiled and they smiled back. You’re a woman, so you’re used to it. Basically this shit was supposed to hack his brain, and it must be painful. “I would strongly recommend not using it at such a time. From what I quickly read he needs stability and time. Wiping everything out will more likely create more confusion.” You took a look at the file again and took it upon yourself to not have your eyes double in size and screaming at this bunch of idiots. “... and it does seem he’s using it a lot.” 

“We want the asset to be as focused as possible.”

“I understand that, but that's a temporary solution at best. He’s got a brain, not a harddrive. We still don’t know how it can store information, and if it can…” “The last time we used him was five years ago…” Started Pierce, with diplomaty, but also with a tone that wasn’t allowing any more debate on the matter. “And this mission is an absolute priority. The asset is strictly under cryostasis procedure as soon as he’s not needed anymore. The machine will be used if needed.” “I understand your point.” You absolute psychopath. “Then my request is simply to be here if it happens, and to be able to control the shocks. Also, I insist that he must be in perfect condition when you launch the procedure, I’ll personally make it happen and give you a green light.” “Thank you for your hard work.” He said, raising his hand, that you promptly and politely shook. You could feel the angry grasp. “I know you’re the perfect woman for this hard job. Your work is an inspiration for us all.” You wish you could end your life right here right now, instead of being told such atrocities. But you think about your mom and dad. At this time of year they start to prepare the pool for the summer, for the future neighborhood barbecues where they will brag to everyone about their incredible psychiatrist daughter who is doing secret stuff over sea to help save the world. You have to be strong. At least for them. At least for now.

“Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.” You responded, while your tongue feels like sandpaper.

  “Ok he’s starting to wake up…” Someone warns, as Pierce leaves the room, unbothered. The pod opens before your eyes, as the asset -you hate this term- is being roughly handled and carried away by two dudes to his seat. The one dangerously close to the memory suppressing machine. You squatted in front of him, the time for him to blink several times and look around him. Confused, but it’s not exactly his first rodeo either. His eyes are quickly focused on the first thing in front of him : you. He looked like he was trying to remember who you are, but quickly realized he didn’t know you. Two blue spears digging right into your soul. That’s making you a bit uncomfortable. The same weird feeling of unease you have when a cat is watching you taking a shower. “Hi.” You started, in english, even if he could be from italy you had no freaking clue. You guessed that he was probably slavic. But the file says he’s speaking more than ten languages. And it wasn’t specified when and how the hell did he learn that. “Can you hear me?” He took a few more seconds to look at you, probably the time to finish reading every embarrassing moment of your life, right into your eyes, like your drunk 18th birthday when you finished in your panties swimming in a city fountain, but he nodded eventually. You actually know this look. But it’s the first time you have a super soldier in front of you so it’s of a rare intensity. He’s dissecting you. Gathering information. His eyes moved slightly down : a recent scar on your neck. Right : an ex piercing on the top of your ear, now unusable. Down left : he just realized you’re slightly unbalanced so he knows you have a hip issue. And down right : he’s looking at your hand, you don’t really know what he saw here, maybe calculating how to break them ? You were literally a foot in a viper’s nest. Were you terrified ? Absolutely. Will that forbid you to do your job ? Nope. “Can you follow the light ?” You asked, moving slowly your phone’s lamp from left to right in front of his eyes. He did it without questioning. “Ok good.” You tried a smile, not really knowing why. If he was at least a tenth as clever as the file said he was, he perfectly know that you’re here to fuck him up. But you couldn’t help it. Poor dude. He was visibly more or less your age. He could have been a prince, or thief, a womanizer, or a priest, whatever, HYDRA took everything from him. From his free will, of his right to grow old, to his sleep. “Can you tell me your name ?” He frowned, perplexed. “Winter Soldier.” Shitty answer but at least he was fully aware, and his tongue was working properly. “Nice to meet you, I’m doctor Y/N. We’re here to work together in preparation of your next assignment. Do you understand ?” He nodded, unimpressed. “Good, can you get up ?” He did, so you did it too. And he realized that you were… very short. His eyes literally went up and slooowly down. That was a bit mean, actually. You carefully took a glance behind you, and your eyeroll could probably trigger an earthquake. “Can you all nice gentlemen let down a bit of their weapon ?” You said at the 6 dudes with rifles literally fixed on him, ready to shoot at the wrong twitch of muscle. No wonder he wasn’t talkative. “You won’t say that when he will break your neck with two fingers, ‘mam.”

“He’s pretty stable for now. Plus he’s not fully awake, let’s give him time before threatening him, shall we ?”

Nobody moved for ten seconds before one of them complied, since you didn’t move. The rest of the bunch reluctantly followed . You looked at your patient, hoping that that would have made him a bit more relaxed. Nope, he didn’t give a shit. He wasn't even looking at them. He was looking at you. You’re the mystery of this room to him. But you didn’t need extra vision to understand that Docs treated him like a guinea pig, so he was very understandably extra careful with you. Standing on his feet, all his muscles ready for action,  that’s the exact moment you realized how close you two were. Indeed, if he decided to, your jaw would fly across the room in a single move. You never had such a display of sheer raw strength, and you could feel the heat of his body radiate.

 “He needs a shower, and clothings.” You said, having a look at his 5 years old combat suit still reeking the smell of his sweat. It was intoxicating. They didn’t even allow him to clean himself. Poor dude was frozen in his own filth for the last five years. And you didn’t know why you took an even deeper breath. “And I’m talking about comfy workout clothes, no combat suit. Please escort him and handle him with care, before bringing him to my office.” You actually decided to be sure he wouldn’t be mistreated, by waiting outside the man’s bathrooms. You weren’t certain of how he could react, and you didn’t trust anyone here. If one of them decided to do a piss contest with your patient, it could end badly. So you put your hands in your pockets, looking at the two armed men waiting for the most dangerous assassin in the world to finish scrubbing himself with soap. The atmosphere was heavy and the silence was loud in itself. Even the sound of the shower was stressful and menacing.

 When the Soldier was escorted to your improvised office into the archive, directly linked to a storage room that will be your bedroom for the next weeks, you let him take a seat and promptly blocked the access to the room of the two escort members. “Thank you sirs, that will be all. Please wait here.” They look at you like you just told them you were dating their daughters. “Sorry Miss, but we can’t…” “Sorry Doctor , and I can’t work properly with weapons in my office.” You raised your hand, showing your device on your wrist. Something that would not only call for aid by a simple pressure, but could stun an opponent. Neither them nor you were stupid : it wouldn’t stop The Winter Soldier, maybe he would blink a second at most. But you really wanted to be alone with him. Was he dangerous ? Yes. Were you absolutely certain that you would leave this room alive if you closed this door to their face ? No. But it’s been three years since your priority wasn’t your survival anymore. So you forced a smile and slapped the door. They needed you more than you needed them, so they will obey.

“Douchebags.” You muttered to yourself while coming back to your desk. Your patient didn’t even move a muscle at your little argument. He wasn’t totally inexpressive actually, mostly terribly broody. His hair was still wet from the shower he took, wearing cargo pants, heavy boots and hoodies, generic clothes by HYDRA. You got those too, since you’re not allowed to carry anything personal for mission to mission. You had a tablet for books, music and movies, but that was it. You haven’t opened your shelves yet, but you know it’s full of ugly clothes and generic black panties of doom. 

You took a large inspiration, sat on your desk in front of him, and started : “Ok ‘Winter Soldier’... how are you doing ?” He didn’t even flinch. He was staring into your soul with his eyes lost into dark circles. Depriving someone of proper sleep is a basic rule for brainwash. “You enjoyed the shower ?” Nothing. You waited for a bit to see if he would finally respond. Ten seconds. Twenty. fourty. a minute. When he gathered that you were actually looking for an answer, visibly a first one for him, he finally gave you the courtesy of one. “Yes.” “Perfect.” You didn’t hide your slight smile and tiled your head. “I’ll be sure you’re in your best condition for your next mission. If something’s on your mind, I need to know about it. Nothing will get out of this room. Both of our priorities are your goal, and your condition is the key to success. Which makes you , my high top priority. Do you understand me ?” “Yes.”

“Ok so let’s get going.” You took another file, and took a picture out, ready to handle it to him. “Is the name : Nicholas Fury, ringing some bells to you?” “Yes.” He took it inside his titanium fingers and finally moved his piercing blue eyes away from you to look at the picture. “In two weeks, you’ll be in Washington DC. An entire squad will be deployed to assassinate him. Fury is the leader of the S.H.I.E.L.D, not a mere target. He will break free and fight back. That will be when you’ll show up.” He wasn’t looking at the picture anymore. One thing for sure : at least he was paying attention to you, and what you were saying. And that made you actually kind of proud of yourself. “That was part one. I’ll personally supervise your training with the VR machine and your physical health and condition. I really need you to communicate with me all the time about anything that could be in your mind. The more focused you are, the more Hydra’s plan will succeed.” And what’s that plan ? You have not a single clue. You were a cog in the machine, disposable. Not much more than him. “Do you understand ?” “I understand.” Oh shit, two words this time!

“Good.” You smiled. He didn’t. You move your hands closer to him, to take a grip on the picture. He opened his prosthetic hand, leaving you to take it back. Nothing in his gesture seems dangerous. Just normal, somehow cordial. “I must ask : are you in any pain right now ?” His eyes significantly get from right to left. He must probably wonder why you are asking him that. Did nobody ever ask him such basic questions like : ‘are you in pain?’ This man's sole purpose was to fight, that made no damn sense for you.

“Sir ?” You insisted for an answer, even if the ‘sir’ sounded absolutely ridiculous to your ears. You didn’t know his name, and you don’t feel comfortable calling him “Winter Soldier” , “Soldier”, “Sir De Winter”, “Hey you,he soviet assassin” so it will be “Sir” for now. “Sir are you in pain right now ?” “I’m not in pain.” A complete sentence, that’s progress. You breathed a bit better “Ok good.” You got up from your desk, which was honestly barely taller that him remaining on his chair. He didn’t let go of your eyes and you decided to make a bold move. For now, he was always being responsive so you slowly moved your hands toward him. To his prosthetic hand. “May I take a look, please ?” You glanced at each other, nobody made the first move. In complete silence, if it wasn’t for both of your breaths. You’re almost sure that it has been at least 5 minutes since you decided to speak again. Slowly, and gently, with no signs of confrontation in your body language or speech. “I will not do it until you comply. And you can refuse the contact.” He didn’t answer right away but he finally nodded. 

Slowly, you took his hand into yours, lifting it from his thigh where it was resting. At the beginning it was just taking a look. But he wasn’t making any moves, so you decided to take your observation a little further. You used your other hands to start to move each finger separately, taking a step closer to him. Finally, you made one  of your hands slowly sliding into the hoodie, to feel the muscles, the nerves, how it feels like a real arm. It was cold, but you felt it shudder to your touch. That was the line you decided to not take it further.

“Thank you, Soldier.” You said with a smile, taking away your hands from him. You moved behind your desk, opening your notepad to take a bunch of notes, breaking the contact with him. Just a second. But when you raised your eyes again, The Winter Soldier wasn’t in sight.  

 You shuddered and didn’t make a single move. If it wasn’t for your fingers grasping your desk. You did your best to have a steady respiration and not start to panic. Your throat dried up immediately. You took a deep breath and say : “Please, get back to your seat.” You slowly moved your head to look right back at him. He was standing. His eyes were black, taking loud deep breaths, fixing your behind your shoulder. Tall. Dangerous. You were terrorised. And he could smell it. He didn’t move so you stood up as well, and slowly faced him. You try to remain in total control of your body and not start to fidget. You could scream for help, but for whatever reason, you still had the feeling you could handle the situation. Trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t the first time a patient was disobedient. The only difference was that this one could crush your skull in a bat of an eye, 

 “Get back.” You said once again, bearing his piercing eyes, but he didn’t budge. So you took out your hand and put it on his chest. You felt like an ant against a mountain, but you pushed him a bit. “We will go nowhere this way.” You resumed trying to get a step closer, even if it will be creating a proximity that could be even more lethal to you. “So please, get back to…”

Something happened. It was obvious, and clear as day : you felt the bulge between his legs. Right above your navel. Hardening even more now that he could feel your body. You decided immediately to repress the shameful feeling of your very inside warming up and tickling you. “Winter Soldier.” You growled, angry but trying your best to remain as professional as you could. Of course, of fucking course. This guy was gorged on serum and hormones, quick, violent actions, and adrenaline. Pumping in his veins, burning 24/7. His body was on the edge all the time, and he just awoke from a dreamless slumber. He was a human, whatever all these idiots were thinking, not a freakin’ cyborg. When was the last time he saw a woman that he didn’t smash the head on a wall ? You even suspected that Pierce was counting on it. Nonetheless, you were alone in an office, literally glued with the world's most dangerous assassin, who was having a massive hard-on. Throbbing against you. You had your share of very awkward situations in your short life time. But nothing, nothing prepared you for this. And you had even less of an idea of what to do because he was doing nothing . He was feeling uncomfortable, that you could say, but he wasn’t really doing any moves to attack you, or even take you. He was standing here, with heavy breathing, his eyes still piercing you. And you slowly slided your gaze to his lips, finding the vision of his hard laboured breath strangely mesmerizing.

 Short of ideas, your reflexes took the best (or the worst) of you, and without you realizing it, your hand was around his neck. Your palm pressured on his glottis, and you clearly felt him swallow. As clearly as you felt him becoming even harder. Your breath was starting to shake, as you felt a not-so subtle chill coursing your spin. You drew his face and your face closer, as you finally moved forward, forcing him to move as well. Forcing was a strong word : the last time you hit a punching bag, you hurt yourself and sobbed for an hour. But for whatever reason, he did whatever you wanted. As if he was testing your resolve to make him obey. But there was nothing on his file about this behaviour. He tried to attack, kill and escape. Nothing about testing the limits of anyone.

“You. Will. Sit. Down!” you spat, through your teeth, forcing even more your grip around his neck, as your other hand was reaching for his hair. You pulled it, not too harshly, but you could definitely smell the musk, and the wetness of what stayed of his shower.

You did it. He was sitting down again. And your bodies departed for one another. For once he tried to escape your gaze, which was a strangely human reaction. You both managed to get your breath back, before you decided to call the guard to adjourn your observation.

As soon as the door closed behind them, you felt your legs giving up and you sat on the ground, back against your desk, a small wimp leaving your throat. You felt your eyes starting to wet, and your teeth rattled a bit so you tried to cuddle yourself to try to retake control on your body. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably as his intoxicating smell was still all around you. It was by far one of the most terrifying experiences you ever felt, and it was all clouded by the phantom feeling of his body against yours. You could still feel his gaze, his heat, his… well, his cock against your belly. You were still chilling, trying to repress whatever you were feeling at this instant. Because it wasn’t right, for you. Nor him. Everyone in this godforsaken organisation was treating him like a dog, just here to attack and do tricks, but you swore to yourself not to do the same. You will succeed at your mission, but you’ll do it from the crumbs of humanity and morality that HYDRA left you. You will do anything possible that the mission will be complete, the most painless possible for this broken man you just saw. Wait a second.

Painless .

You jumped on your feet, ignoring the numbness of your legs caused by the shock, and you ran at the door, screaming at the three men at the end of the corridor. “HEY !” The guards startled a bit and looked at you “I changed my mind. Bring the Winter Soldier back to my office.” They briefly exchange what seems to be a bunch of insults about you, but they comply to bring the Soldier back. Him ? He seemed absolutely unbothered. 

You closed the door behind the both of you, to the face of the guards yet again. He was standing here, showing his back as you slowly got back in front of him. Hands in your pocket, not really sure of what to do nor how to do it. He was looking at you, this same feeling of unease than before. And for reasons : a small glance confirmed that he was still rock hard. You didn’t make any move for a long time, until you finally put your hand on his chest. You felt his breathing becoming slightly quicker. “You’re not in pain.” You whispered, and he shook his head, negatively. “That was the wrong question. I’m sorry... “ Without you noticing, you had the palm of your hand on his cheek, scrubing lightly his stubble with your thumb as an apology. You breathed in, just couldn’t believe what you were about to say. “Do you need help ?” His expression didn’t change, but his eyes ? They became a bit brighter, you could even see a bit of relief when you saw him nod.

You swiftly move your other index on his pillowy lips as you still lower your voice. “They cannot hear us.” He nodded again as the only feeling of your finger as close to his mouth made him shiver with anticipation. He was literally dying of anything that could relieve him. And for what you understood, as your conversation continued, he trusted you with his body, to provide him with the sweet touch he has been totally deprived of. You slowly push away your index to gently slide your thumb between his lips, and he sighed with pleasure as he took it with an eagerness you would never have believed possible. The most deadly assassin in the world, the legendary Winter Soldier that everyone wishes he wasn’t real, was purring while sucking your finger. If you weren’t the shrink, you’ll be needing one immediately. You gently moved him to make him sit in his chair, he was way too tall for you to handle this with ease. “What about the showers?” You asked him, as you removed your thumb to make it gently slide on his lips, your other hand crawling across his chest to his pants. He swallowed before whispering. “I could but... “ his well built square jaws started to tense, with a visible revulsion. “... They can watch.” Disgusting. He couldn’t even close the damn door of the shower. “You’re safe here.” You said as your hand was finally reaching the bulge behind his Hydra cargo pants. You didn’t know what you expected but… it was way beyond that. He hissed a bit at the feeling of your hand as you started to touch it gently over the fabric. 

Now he was panting, looking at you as you were a single oasis after years of thirst in the desert. “Please…” You heard, barely audible when he was starting to lose it. “I got you, but you have to promise me to be good.” “Anything. Please…” 

And at your very surprise, you obliged him. Using your hand to plunge into his pants, while the other fast pressed into his mouth, muffing the immediate deep moan that escaped at the very second you touched his pulsing penis. He started panting even more, as he used his flesh arm to drive you onto him. His forehead against yours. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer and closer. Actually you let go of his -massive- erection a second to just drop out his pants, and his breach. You stopped a second, only to watch him begging you with his eyes, as you could feel his saliva at the palm of your hand while you muzzled him. It was it. You realized what kind of power you have over this man. He has been used and abused in every single way, but for once : someone’s finally doing what he wanted. You had his pleasure in your very hands, and for once in years, you could finally help someone. So you’re gonna do it, you’re going to make him feel good. Very good. “Good boy.” You muttered, without knowing where the hell that could come from, and you reached him again. Stroking your hands up and down his shaft, nourishing yourself over the vibration of his muffled moans against your hand. His eyes weren't leaving yours, if it wasn’t for when they seemed to roll to the sky. His vision periodically blackened by the waves of forbidden pleasure he was feeling over his body, who was barely him anymore. Your eyes were gorging on the vision of his handsome muscular man, surrendering himself to your touch, sweating, trembling and panting for you. You were saluted by an utterly satisfied noise the moment you decided to lean over his manhood to drip a large amount of your own saliva moist what was already on the edge of ruin. You rolled your thumb against his tip, massage his veins with just one finger… anything to make him feel something. Anything that wasn’t pure anger, hatred or apathy. You were inclined to believe the file saying that he was nothing but a perfectly built weapon for HYDRA to command. But now, when you tickled, teased and made him shiver, and you felt all his sincere gratitude, you were certain : There is a man in here. And he was finally feeling good .

But soon, it wasn’t enough anymore. Seeing his bare thighs, powerful, thicken by years of training and super soldier serum, tensed by all the nerves and muscles deliciously answering to your call, made your inside warmed up. Your core was aching, screaming for proximity and intimacy, and before you understood what happened, you sat astride on his left thigh. The soft flesh between your legs immediately responded with delight, making you shiver. Almost instantly, you felt his grip on your hip, of the cold metal digging into your flesh with despair. It was a super soldier, with the stamina of several dozen men, but it’s been so long, and you were touching him with perfection. You felt his head on your shoulder, and slowly you started licking his temple, tasting the very fruit of your hard work : his sweat. 

Galvanized by his intoxicating smell, and the thrusting he started giving to your hand, you started to move like a snake, rocking against his skin, looking for some pressure despite the fabric of your pants, mercilessly acting like a barrier of your own pleasure. You could get it off, but it was a limit that you forbid yourself to cross. But it’s true, as you were working him, you couldn’t stop yourself to think of how this would feel. Sliding inside you. You were so very short and fragile, and compared to your hand, his phallus was gigantic. He could ruin you, split you in half, using his bare hands and make you do anything. But the only person in control here, were you. And only you. You never felt anything like this before. And it’s highly probable than neither did he. You tried to vanish the thought, but the more you could feel his thigh between yours, the more you became obsessed.

 The more he was approaching, the more eager the soldier became. Both of his hands firmly gripped on your behind, almost certain that it will leave bruises, but you didn’t care at this very moment. His grunts against your hands became more and more intense, and you started to feel he was about to give in. In between your fingers, small drips of salivas were started to escape. You couldn’t give up your grip now, so you made it even more tight, drawing your lips closer to your hands, you whispered as your sore wrist fastened its path “I’m here for you. Give everything to me.”

 His panting became incontrolable, his eyes rolled out, his head dropped back, before he finally reached his peak. You felt the deep vibration of his ultimate cry on your hand, as your other hand was dripping of hot seed. You slowly removed your other hand from his face, and could contemplate your masterpiece :  the Soldier absolutely looked like a mess, with his red face, his eyes blinking furiously, covered with his own saliva. You left his leg, both your hands dripping of his bodily fluids. You used the one that was on his lips to pick his head and forced him to look at you. You ravished your vision of this man who absolutely surrendered to your good care, deeply satisfied with your attention. You cradled his face, and you took a large lick of his spit from his chin to his mouth. Where he leaned for a wet and warm kiss. You took a good taste of him, intoxicated by whatever pheromones he could diffuse around you.

 You look at him another few seconds, before recluandly moving away, to the bathroom where you not only washed your hands, but came back with a wet towel. You first cleaned with infinite care his face, and then his genitals, making sure he wouldn’t have any kind of unpleasant sensation as he had a big day ahead of him. You were his doctor and caretaker, and he had a mission to prepare. He seemed to respond well to the cleaning, not really expressive, but he made no sudden move. You could see him sighing with ease, closing his eyes as he rubbed his cheek in your palm again, when you were caressing him with the wet towel. You could still hear a loud satisfying purr. If you didn’t specifically ask him to kill someone less that an hour ago, you would actually find this absolutely adorable.

 You breathed in and out, making sure he was okay. “Are you feeling better ?...” He nodded, visibly relaxed, as he was closing his pants but not much more expressive than before. He stood up, in front of you, like nothing happened. “Yes.” But to your surprise he added a second later. “Thank you, doctor.” You smiled at him as you couldn’t keep yourself from making your knuckles caressing his cheek, and finally tracking the shape of his jaws. “Good boy.” You heard yourself say, wondering what the fuck was wrong with you.He didn’t react. All the shivers, purring,  sighing, and moans disappeared as soon as his pants closed. It was for the best, and you quickly took your hand back, clearing your throat. You call the guards. The Winter Soldier was fully ready for his mission preparation, and you asked them to give him some time to recover from… his cryostatic, before you would start the procedure.

 In the meantime, you need a shower. A long, hot, steamy, shower. 

#bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky fandom #Avengers #marvel fic #mcu fic #Bucky barnes #winter solider x you #winter soldier #winter solider smut #Bucky smut #Sub!bucky #dom!reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #my writing #mywriting

[ggukkiedae]

[vlive 210522] Seri’s Seritonin 🥝🐱

9pm kst

italics = english; seri answering questions!

the vlive starts with seri logging on and waving

she’s playing new rules in the background and staying quiet for the first two minutes

“moa! how are you all?”

she smiles and reads through the comments

she reads a few out loud and sees a few comments asking her to say i love you in different languages, to which she complies to

she turns off her music first and fixes herself in her chair

“bet you guys are wondering why i’m live today, huh? we’ll get to that in a bit. for now, let’s answer questions”

she looks through the comments carefully until she reads one out loud

Seriiiiiii! 5 Beomgyus or 5-year-old Beomgyu?

she laughs at this

“maybe a five year old bammie. he always makes a big deal of being older than me by a few months, so it would be good pay back”

she then pulls out her phone and scrolls through it before turning it towards the screen. it was a picture of beomgyu as a kid

“see this? he sent this to our groupchat the other day. tiny gyu is cute”

how are youuuuuu?

she claps her hands together and smiles at the live

“i’m doing great, thank you! i’ve been practicing harder, and i feel pretty good”

she scrolls through the comments again and takes a sip of her drink. she lightly mixes her drink around and places it back down

“you guys should try peach tea. it’s a godsend. oh, what’s this?”

shall we go on a date?

“you didn’t turn up at our last date”

she pouted a little and laughed

“i waited at the rooftop for a while, but you didn’t show up! but i guess we can go again because you’re moa”

she shifts a little and shakes her head amusedly at her own words

“do i sound like gyu?”

Hi Seri! I have a couple questions 😊 What has been your favorite era music wise and style wise? What hair style/color do you want to try? What's your current favorite song? What are you looking forward to most?

her eyes widened a little before she looks up trying to come up with answers to the series of questions

“oh, wow, i guess you could say i really liked our songs from the minisode album, but my favorite title track is run away for sure. actually, i take that back. i like the songs on dream chapter magic the most! in terms of style... dream chapter magic as well! i really like new rules’ styling especially”

a small smile makes its way to her face as she’s about to answer the last question from that comment

“right now, i’m really looking forward to our new album, and i hope you’ll like it as well! so far, the tracks are amazing!”

any plans for a comeback with the royals?

“i don’t know” she laughs and looks off camera “what do you think?”

yoonmi’s giggle can be heard while seri just laughed

“you exposed me! anyway, we’ll see when the three of us get an opportunity again” “you guys heard yoonmi”

seri takes the live and points it to the side, revealing the magenta-haired girl peacefully sitting in the dance studio near her while working on something on her laptop

“yoonmi is working on school stuff even if she just released a song yesterday” “responsibilities”

Seri baby are you aware that Seri sounds like berry? Therefore you are now berry Seri or Seri Berry 🤔

“oh, that’s cute! seri berry... i love it! i’m a berry now! i can replace strawberries, i don’t like strawberries”

she wrinkled her nose at the thought of the red berries as the sound of a chair moving came up. seri looked off camera and waved to, supposedly, yoonmi

“yoonmi has a meeting right now, so she’s off. anyway, back to our live”

Hiya Seri how are you liking the new building? What do you think has changed the most about you since you became an idol? And out of the members who do you think has changed most since you debuted?

“the new building is actually the best thing ever, i swear! there’s a lot of space, and the facilities are all high quality! honestly, i’m the only txt member who doesn’t get lost, so it’s pretty funny when the others have to ask for my help to walk around”

she then pressed her lips into a tight line while thinking about her next answer

“since becoming an idol... i think i became more confident. the others tell me this a lot. they say every comeback my stage presence gets better, and i look more comfortable? i also became a better dancer for sure. not the best yet, but i’m working on it. also maybe kai? first of all, he’s gotten way taller now. second, he’s been more mature. yes, he’s still our baby, but he handles things a lot more maturely now. sometimes he acts like he’s older than me as well”

hi bestieeeeeee! what do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t an idol?

“hey, bestie! musical theatre for sure!”

seri immediately perked up at this. she jumped back in her seat a little with the biggest grin while remembering her experiences

“i loved it back in school! honestly, my parents were pretty supportive about my involvement in theatre and my little brother kinda brags to his friends that his sister goes on stages to perform. it’s kinda cute”

would you consider acting? or maybe starring in a musical?

“oh for sure if i were given the chance!”

you dance amazingly! your artist of the month video with studio choom was absolutely perfect!!!!

“oh my god”

she covered her face and groaned before pulling out her phone and looking for the video on youtube. before pressing play, she looked back to the camera

“thank you, but i’m a little embarrassed about this. i wore red lipstick on stage for the first time after debut, and i showed a side of me that’s pretty different…”

she pressed play and watched the video, cringing at herself. it took a whole 20 seconds before she gave up and hid her phone behind her

“nope. nevermind, i can’t watch that. thank you, i’m glad you enjoyed it”

thoughts on the people you’re being shipped with? 👀

she burst into laughter upon reading this

“ah, yes. shipping. i see you guys on stan twitter with your little edits and headcanons and aus! honestly, it’s amusing. apparently most of you ship me with gyu and seungmin? and a few other people, too?”

she was quiet for a while like thinking about who moas shipped her with. she shook her head with and began talking again

“gyu... well, bammie’s my best friend, and i love him a lot. it’s been us from the very beginning, so i like to think we’ll be as close as ever until the end”

“seungmin is the bane of my existence”

she laughed at this before waving her hand

“kidding! he’s actually really nice, and i love hanging out with him, it just so happens our friendship is based on bickering. we do support each other though. seungmin, if you see this, you did well on love poem”

she then lit up as if just remembering something

“some of you guys ship me with chaeryoung! interesting considering you all see me as ryujin’s sibling, but please, i’m not worthy of the queen herself. i love chae with all my heart honestly she’s such a sweet child”

her phone buzzed and she glanced at it a little bit before turning back to the live

“perfect timing because hyunsuk just messaged me and some special ship mentions are hyunsuk and jeno oppa. i think it’s because i hang out with hyunsuk’s little siblings a lot. but jeno oppa? we just met earlier this year, it’s a little funny how apparently a lot of people ship us when we haven’t really shown our friendship much”

she typed something one her phone before chuckling and shutting it off once again. she looked through the comments until she found the topic she was looking for

What’s up with you and Dino? 👀👀👀

“ah, this. this brings me to the reason i went live. recently, you guys have seen me and dino oppa hanging out, right? well, we’re not dating. i wanted it to be a surprise, but he’s helping me with something for my birthday, and i agreed to do something with him for their youtube as well”

her phone rang, and she laughed before picking it up and putting it on speaker

“hello? you’re on speaker” “seri-yah! how dare you deny our relationship?” “oh? you’re watching?” “look up, stupid. i’m standing by the door”

she looked off camera and laughed

“yah! oppa, what are you doing here?” “miya told me you were gonna talk about the scandal, so i thought why not come early?”

dino appears next to seri in a mask and a hat. he nudged seri over to the side so they could both be centered on screen, making her raise her eyebrow at him

“meet my new dance partner” dino points towards seri whose eyes widen as soon as he said that

“they don’t know yet!” “you said we were working on two things together!” “but they didn’t know one of them is dance!” “might as well tell them so we can clear up this rumor before i get attacked by moas”

she sighed at him

“i’d get attacked by carats. anyway, fine. dino oppa’s helping me with a song, and he’s making me dance with him for a video. you can look forward to this in july”

dino adjusted his hat and leaned forward a little

“no need to panic, we’re not in a romantic relationship. she’s too tall for me”

“... you’re literally taller than me though?” “not by that much. if you wear heels, we’d be the same height, and i don’t think i’m up for that”

she playfully rolled her eyes

“looks like i’ve discussed what needed to be cleared up now. i’m single. single.” “yes, they get the point” “oh, would you just go already?”

she was pretending to push him away while he laughed at her failed attempts. he moved off camera but stays in the room

“no way, we’ve got to work the choreography out today”

“this is gonna be a while,” she muttered before smiling at the live once again “well, time for me to go. i’ve got a lot of work to do to be on par with a member of seventeen’s performance team”

dino’s groaning could be heard from the side

“this again?”

she laughed

“bye moa! hopefully that cleared things up, and hopefully you enjoyed this little tmi session”

-end-

#seri.live #seri.freeze #txt 6th member #txt female member #txt female addition #seri #yoon seri

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 7 April 1836

8 25

12 20

no kiss F44 ½° at 9 ¼ am fine spring soft damp morning but terrible for rock-setting - breakfast and with A- till 10 55 while she rode off to the school - washing three stockings till eleven and a half - with Marian from 11 ½ to 1 25 -went in to pay her £20 for my aunt and she (Marian) kept me talking - 5 minutes with my aunt and out at 1 ½ to 4 - Robert Mann + 3 and 7 or 8 of Freeman’s men - during the day got the 2 towery marestones near to their place, and set up the one on the Tour stone and in the afternoon set about getting the Cliff-stone down from the top of the embankment near the road to its place or a level and next to the Tour-stone marestone - A- back at 3 ½ - came in to see her at 4 and after being about ½ hour with her and meaning to go out again Mr. Duncan sent up his son with a note to me begging to know in whose name the gloves and biscuits were to be sent and with a note he (Mr. D-) had received from the vicar on which Mr. D- begged to have my instructions - told Mr. D-‘s son, I would send an answer in the evening - A- and I hurt and annoyed at the vicar’s note - took it to Marian and without giving her any clue to our own feeling asked what she thought of it - found her far more annoyed than ourselves - I said how foolish the note was, but tried to persuade Marian that no slight could be intended - long talk - the following is a copy of the note - ‘Vicarage April 7th 1836. Dear sir, I will meet the corpse on Monday at the church gates if you will let me know the hour at which to be in attendance. It would be a great accommodation to me if the corpse could be kept from arriving till ¼ or ½ past eleven as I have my monthly lecture to the young ladies from the Boarding schools at ten which I need not in that case put off. As I am likely also to have my friend with me who is to preach my Sunday school sermons on Sunday, it would be very inconvenient to me to go to Shibden hall yours very truly C. Musgrave’ wrote in answer ‘Mr. Duncan is requested to send the gloves and biscuits from the family at Shibden Hall’ and to inform Mr. Musgrave that the family is very much obliged to him, but, being anxious that the funeral procession should leave the house at the early hour fixed upon, will be perfectly satisfied for Mr. Gurney to do the duty, whom they will be glad to have breakfast at Shibden hall, or, if any agreement should make it inconvenient to Mr. Gurney to attend, they will be much obliged to Mr. Musgrave to allow Mr. Greatrix to officiate, whom they, in that case, wish to be invited to breakfast at Shibden all. Shibden Hall. Thursday 7 April 1836’ - ‘Mr. Duncan undertaker etc’ Marian much pleased with my note - gave her, at her request, a copy of it, which she means to keep along with the vicar’s note and Mr. Duncan’s - she kept me so long talking it was 6 ½ before I left her - then had Mr. Husband - he said Mr. Harper had been here this morning but would not come here at this time - would come over again - had gone back this evening (or afternoon?) - Mr. Husband came to see if the stairs were safe - if strong enough to bear the weight of the lead and other coffins and of the men - yes! thought they the stairs would carry the weight but [not?] see for the under drawing - dinner at 6 50 - told Husband to see what wanted doing at Water Lane mill asked what he thought the mill should be worth as it is that is with no accommodation but put into sufficient repair - he said £100 a year - hat said I is exactly what I value it at - dinner at 6 50 - coffee - A- asleep till 9 - I left her and was above ½ hour with Marian - then A- and I with my aunt from 9 to 9 35 - Kind letter from M- Leamington -glad my letter had reached her when it did reach her - had it been 24 hours later, she would have been off to Torquay to see her niece (Dr. Belcombe’s daughter) poorly again - ‘the great event has taken place and she is at the moment weak and poorly, I shall be absent about ten days, and should not have ordered my letters to follow me, for now I have no correspondent who either expects or gives quick returns to my letters, I expect to return here on Saturday week, perhaps you will let me find a line to say how you all are. I shall be anxious to hear about your aunt I am pretty well myself, and all around me are quite so - god bless and yours my Fred! your very sincere friend M. P. Lawton’ - A- ate sweetmeat batter pudding today at dinner - she has not tasted pudding for many months - we fancied it did not agree with her - perhaps it was too heavy for her stomach this evening - she was low and out of sorts after leaving my aunt - finish day but rain between 3 and 4 then fair a while - very dark, and snow and hail and rain from about 5 ½ for the rest of the evening F36° at 10 pm.

[loveissupernatural]

                                         To Love in a Foreign Land

                                            Draco Malfoy x reader                                 

Chapter One: The Letter

[ Read Part 2 here ] 

The day had finally come.

It came in the flurry of an owl’s wings, in the nervous vibration of your sweaty palms.

A delicious breakfast had just been served by your mother that sunny summer morning in suburban America, your fourth term at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry only recently finished. Loud, impatient tapping on the kitchen window glass made you choke on your coffee.

“Mom! Ch-check if it’s from H-Hogwarts!” you managed to cough, pointing frantically at the window. Your mother bolted out of her chair at the kitchen table so you can recover.

She squealed for you, letting the gorgeous but exhausted-looking owl into your kitchen as quickly as she could. It landed in front of you on the table, holding out its leg with what could only be described as relief. Your shaking hands untied the cream-colored envelope from the owl’s ankle, and as soon as you did, it fluttered to the large cage in the corner of the room. Your silver-grey owl, Cinna, hooted indignantly at the unexpected visitor that was gulping from her water bowl.

“Now, Cinna, be nice. He’s had a long journey,” your mother said, wagging her finger. Cinna would have rolled her eyes if she could.

“Mom,” you squeaked, “this is it, this has to be it. I’m finally gonna know.”

You’d decided halfway through your fourth year at Ilvermorny that you wanted to take part in the International Wizarding Student Exchange Program, or I.W.S.E.P. It was a decision that you didn’t make lightly – you’d discussed it at length with your teachers and with your mom. You loved Ilvermorny with all of your heart and soul, after all, it was your home. But you also knew that the world was much bigger, that there was so much in the wizarding world that you hadn’t seen and hadn’t experienced. As a newly 15 year-old, you felt somehow ready for things to change.

Of course, you didn’t want too much change, which is why Hogwarts was at the top of your list. Ilvermorny was modeled after it, and you didn’t have to worry about a language barrier. Hogwarts contained four houses, just like your school, and was a large castle in the middle of the mountains, just like yours. You were ready to experience new things and new people, in a new (but somewhat similar) place. You had roots there.

The Headmistress of Ilvermorny, Celestia Pukwould, had one final meeting with all prospective exchange students before the end of term. The day exams ended, you and a small group of upcoming fifth years were invited to her large study. She pressed the importance of upholding your school’s good reputation as you traveled, to be a shining example of what it was to learn magic from America’s impressive magical education system. Only one of your peers was requesting Hogwarts as their first choice too, a quiet girl that you hadn’t spoken to much over the years named Eleanor.

After the other potential exchange students left her office, Headmistress Pukwould requested for you and Eleanor to stay behind for a bit.

“Ladies, I have sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore himself expressing my full confidence in you two,” she had said, standing from her ornate high-back chair that sat in front of her fireplace. She twirled her wand between her long fingers absentmindedly, fixing you and Eleanor with a kind yet serious stare. “You two are some of the brightest witches in your class. I told him so. I have known Albus Dumbledore for many years, and he is by far one of the most talented wizards alive today. You would be very lucky to learn magic at his school.”

You and Eleanor nodded profusely, eyes wide. While Headmistress Pukwould was a kind woman, she was also not to be trifled with, and her word backing your acceptance at Hogwarts held much weight.

“Don’t disappoint me, ladies,” she said, the smile fading from her face. She tapped her wand on her nails once, sighed, then turned back to the fireplace. “Have a wonderful summer. Owls containing your acceptance or rejection should arrive to your homes within the next few weeks.”  Her tone was final. You were dismissed.

You flashed back to your bright kitchen, took a deep breath and let it back out in a shaking sigh. Your fingers gently traced the refined emerald green writing. You flipped the envelope over and touched the blood-red wax seal, the crest of Hogwarts. Your hands paused.

“Mom, what if I don’t get in?” You’d spoken your greatest fear aloud.

She smiled at you, almost a little sadly, and came to rest a hand on your shoulder and a kiss on your head. “They’d be idiots not to accept you, Y/N.”

“What do you think Dad would say? If they said no?” you all but whispered, a familiar ache rising in the back of your throat. Your father had attended Hogwarts over two decades ago before he moved to America and met your No-Maj mother.

Your mother wrapped her arms around you from behind, pressing her cheek to yours and rocking you gently.

“He would think they’re idiots, too, honey,” she said, a grin in her voice. Your father loved his alma mater, so to imagine him saying anything negative about the school was enough to make you laugh. But you knew she was right, your father had been your biggest fan.

“I miss him,” you said quietly. Your thumb ran over the wax seal again.

“I know, baby. I do too,” she whispered, kissing your cheek. “But he’d be so proud of you, no matter what that letter says. Okay?”

You nodded. You’d lost your father two years ago, but the wound still felt fresh most days. You’d be lying if you said that going to Hogwarts wasn’t an attempt to feel him again, in some form or fashion.

“Here goes nothing,” you breathed, slipping your finger underneath the sturdy paper and ripping it away from the seal. Your heart pounded in your ears like a bass drum as you pulled out the parchment, catching a glimpse of the neat scroll in the same dark green ink. Your mother’s hands tightened on your shoulders.

Dear Miss Y/N Y/L/N,

           We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

           All students accepted to our institution through the I.W.S.E.P. (International Wizarding Student Exchange Program) will be required to travel via portkey on the evening of 29 July. Upon arrival to London, arrangements will be made for you to stay in the Leaky Cauldron before gathering your supplies on 30 July. A representative from the school will assist you in procuring the necessary books and equipment for term, beginning 1 September. You will be expected to arrive at King’s Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾, no later than 09:00 AM on 31 July. Bring all necessary luggage and equipment.

           You will find an enclosed list of all required literature and materials for Year Five.

           We will expect an owl containing your confirmation no later than 20 July. We are honored to invite you into our sacred halls of magical learning.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

 You lowered the letter, disbelief coursing through your veins. It was real, truly real. You were now officially a Hogwarts student.

After at least a solid 20 minutes of dancing around the kitchen with your mother, you scribbled a quick confirmation and laid it by the feet of the tired Hogwarts owl.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to leave for another few days,” you said, answering the owl’s accusatory glare. He hooted ruefully and tucked his head underneath his large wing, ignoring Cinna’s still wary stare.

Your mother excused herself from the kitchen shortly after, attempting and failing to hide the proud tears in her eyes. You hugged the Hogwarts letter to your chest, breathing in the scent of the still stiff parchment. Slowly, you walked out to the empty living room and paced to the fireplace mantle that contained family portraits of all shapes and sizes, some moving in their frames and others standing still.

With tears tickling the corner of your eyes, you picked up your favorite picture of you and your dad. You were six years old, missing a tooth and laughing hysterically, while your father conjured glowing butterflies that danced around your head. The glow of his happy smile outshined those butterflies any day, you thought. You gently stroked his smiling face.

“Well, it’s official, Dad,” you whispered, a single tear sliding down your cheek. “I’m going to Hogwarts.”

                     ______________________________________

That summer passed more quickly than you would have ever expected. Your friends from Ilvermorny came to visit as often as possible, taking advantage of every moment they could grab with you before you left for an entire year. Many days were spent wandering nearby cities and towns, No-Maj and magical alike, with your school friends. You ate as many cliché American meals as you could and soaked up every drop of sunshine possible by the pool. You always looked better with a bit of a tan, and you doubted that you’d be getting much strong sun at Hogwarts.

“So, what House do you think you’ll be sorted into?” Eleanor asked you one afternoon. You’d invited her to stay a week with you and your mother in early July. You two would be the only Americans at Hogwarts in the upcoming year, and you both thought that building a friendship with one another would be nothing but beneficial. Being so far from home, you needed to have each other’s backs.

You were both sitting on the edge of the pool, drinking fresh lemonade and dangling your feet in the water. You took a long sip through your brightly colored straw.

“Good question,” you said, staring at the rippling blue water in thought. “I’ve heard rumors of what each house represents, but how true is it really? I mean, we know at Ilvermorny that more than one House can pick you, and that you can make the decision for yourself. Do you ever wonder if people pick the right one? Think it’s like that at Hogwarts?”

“I don’t know,” Eleanor said quietly. She seemed a little nervous at the thought. “What if we don’t get sorted at all? What if we’re too old?”

“I mean, surely that wouldn’t happen,” you tried to say confidently. “They wouldn’t subject us to public sorting if there was a chance of us getting rejected, right? Talk about embarrassing.”

“I’m sure you’ll get sorted,” she said with an admiring tone. “Everyone remembers what happened when you stepped up to the Knot on our first day.”

You remembered that day with a strange and heady combination of pride and trepidation. When you stepped up to the large Gordian Knot engraved into the shining marble floor of the circular sorting chamber, everything changed for you. For the first time in over a decade, all four large wooden carvings came to life, and the room went dead silent. You’d never felt so many eyes on you, boring into the back of your skull, wondering what made you so special and what House you would choose.

The gem set into the head of the Horned Serpent glowed, the Thunderbird beat its large wings, the Wampus roared and the Pukwudgie raised its arrow into the air. The carvings themselves seemed to stare a hole through you.

The four Ilvermorny Houses have been described as each representing a different part of the human being; Horned Serpent represents the mind and favors scholars; Wampus represents the body and favors warriors; Thunderbird represents the soul and favors adventurers; Pukwudgie represents the heart and favors healers.

You were overwhelmed in every sense of the word. At the small and awkward age of 11, you truly didn’t feel that well-rounded. You were certain that, somehow, these magical carvings had made a mistake.

“What made you choose Thunderbird, by the way?” Eleanor asked curiously, breaking you from your reverie.

“Honestly… I’m not totally sure,” you shrugged bashfully. Talking about this always made you uncomfortable. “Thunderbird is supposed to represent the soul, right? I guess I think that everything is rooted in the soul. We wouldn’t be human without them.”

Eleanor had been chosen by Horned Serpent, but nodded in agreement. “I guess that makes sense. I don’t know what I would have done if I were you.” She laughed a bit uneasily. “At least my choice was easy – I didn’t have one.”

In many ways, you found yourself wishing that only one carving had chosen you. Sure, it’s a bit less flattering, but much less stressful. The pressure of being that student, the once-in-a-decade student that was supposed to accomplish amazing things, was almost suffocating. As a child, you had a mountain of expectations piled on top of you from the moment those four carvings came to life. You couldn’t make a mistake.

In your second year, when your father died, so many of those expectations crushed you in a way that they never had before. His death weighed on you more than anything ever had, and the strength of his support was gone and left you breaking underneath the heavy cinderblocks of watchful eyes. Your grades suffered, and so did your relationships. You shut down.

Only when a year passed after your father’s death did you begin to find yourself again. With the help of your understanding teachers and a loving group of friends, you were able to establish a better academic standing within Ilvermorny. Not that anyone held your lapse against you – after all, you were a 12 year-old that had lost a parent. But you were still that kid, the one that all four Houses wanted, and you’d proven that you were far from perfect.

“What House do you want to be in at Hogwarts?” you asked Eleanor. She smiled, quiet in thought as she threw her brown hair into a messy ponytail.

“Really, I’d be happy with anything. But I’ve heard Ravenclaw is similar to Horned Serpent, academically focused and stuff.” She took a gulp of cold lemonade and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “What about you?”

“My dad was a Hufflepuff, so that would be nice I guess. I don’t know. Let’s just hope the Sorting Hat doesn’t explode,” you joked, setting aside your now empty glass. With that, you jumped into the chilly crystal water, letting it soothe your hot skin. Eleanor quickly followed.

You enjoyed the last inklings of summer vacation together before your new adventure began. You talked about missing friends and family, what Hogwarts would be like, whether or not you liked hot tea and what classes you would be taking. True to teen girl form, you were both excited to meet cute guys with foreign accents. And with a mix of thrill and nerves, you both realized that you two would be the foreign ones to them, and hoped that it would play in your favor.

“I wonder if British guys will think American girls are hot?” you asked her after the sun went down. You’d both climbed out of the pool at this point, your sun-kissed skin beginning to prune.

Eleanor laughed. “Geez, I hope so. Could you imagine getting a handsome British boyfriend? Talk about the adventure of a lifetime.”

You couldn’t deny that the thought of kissing a handsome boy with an attractive accent at the top of a castle turret excited you, but your mind always went back to connecting with the spirit of your father. Maybe you could feel closer to him there at Hogwarts, and would a boy distract you from getting that closure? You knew a boy would distract you from schoolwork, and you were determined to make such outstanding grades that Professor Dumbledore would have no choice but to write back to your Headmistress. After the academic crash and burn that was your second year, any and all glowing recommendations were not only welcome, but needed.

“It would be fun,” you giggled, wrapping yourself in your pool towel and squeezing the water out of your hair. “But wouldn’t it kinda suck when it’s all said and done? I mean, what if you got close to someone and then you have to leave to come back here?”

“I didn’t say we had to fall in love,” Eleanor shrugged. “I just want a hot piece of British ass.”

You busted out laughing. Eleanor always seemed so quiet at school, but once she got comfortable with you, she really came out of her shell.

“Come on, girls!” your mother called, sticking her head out of the back patio door. “Dinner is ready. I’ve got your salads on the table.”

You both trotted inside, whispering and giggling about the possibility of a grand foreign romance. After a pleasant dinner with your mother, you both went to bed, smelling of chlorine and sunlight.

Eleanor fell asleep before you did. You laid awake for a while, watching the shadows of swaying tree limbs dance across your ceiling. Your mind wandered back to the possibility of finding romance at Hogwarts. You doubted it would happen for you, especially since your priorities were elsewhere, but it wouldn’t be so bad to just dream about it, right?

You drifted into a deep sleep, flashes of colorful magic and the shadow of a boy dancing through your head.

[ Read Part 2 here ]

#harry potter #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x reader #malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #draco fanfiction #ilvermony school of witchcraft and wizardry #ilvermorny #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #ilvermony houses #hogwarts houses #hufflepuff #forbidden love #foreign exchange #romance #hp fanfic #hp #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #tom felton #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x oc #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #reader insert #harry potter reader insert #draco malfoy reader insert

[poison--ivory]

Uninviting Cataclysm(Alastor x Reader) Chapter 1

Daily routine isn't always good

(You call the old couple mom and dad) *Also sorry I didn't mention until now that you have really curly hair and your biracial(so you can decide what your skin color is)* •You were also raised up north and still kind of speak with that dialect• 

June 6, 1915 Age: 20

  The morning sun pushing through the curtains along with the sound of dogs barking slowly woke you up. Forcing yourself up and managing to bear from the comfort of your bed and it's still warm sheets. First, tidying your bed spread neat before mom could scold you.

  Making your way to the wardrobe to gather clothes for today's venture, you grabbed a (f/c) V-neck, short flutter sleeve dress that hits mid thigh. With matching flats to best match your dress. Oncing over the choice for today you thought it was best enough. Setting them on the bed and quickly making your way out of your room and into the hallway.

 Swiftly moving down corridor to the bathroom to freshen up before breakfast. Seeing that your old mom already set a nice bath for you. Letting your gown carelessly fall off your frame and removing your undergarments. Mindlessly going into deep thought about your day.

  You usually go to the library to read or grab a book. Maybe chat with the sweet old lady and her seven year old grandson who run the place. Then, possibly taking a stroll around the fair that just open for the summer. By that time your already bringing your twin something for lunch.

  Later, you either stop by the market to pick up groceries or you help your mom take care of wealthy white kids. Their parents pay mom a great deal to care for their children. She does literally everything for them from making meals to sewing dresses or little suits. But, some clients left after my brother and I showed up I guess they didn't want their children to be near a person of color for too long. The ones that stayed seem nice enough. My personal favorite being a middle aged man, Henry Bourgeois, who always said, 'hello' and gave me small tips for caring for his daughter Sally.

  Your skin started to prune sitting in the water for too long. Stepping out of the tub and snatching a towel from the rack you started to dry off. Starting with hair and slowly making your way down to your toes.

  Wrapping the towel around your womanly frame you crept back to your bedroom and got dressed.

__________________________

Once downstairs the smell of bacon and spices hit your nose and triggering your mouth to salivate. Walking into the kitchen you found your mom just about done with her last plate to place at the table with the two others. You greeted her with a warm hug and a 'Good Morning, Mom'. She smiled back and gave your cheek a quick peck. Then went to sit in your chair and wait for your plate.

"Good Mornin', sweetheart. How'd sleep?" She asked, turning back around to slide the eggs on the plate.

"Better than yesterday I can tell you that for sure. The dream I had was so realistic with the flames of hell melting my flesh. I could of sworn that my eyes busted through my soc-" You were cut off by a plate slamming down in front of. Looking up mom had a stern look to her aged face.

"Now ya need ta stop talking 'bout ya dreams like that. Really unladylike especially in public," She spoke with a slight authoritative tone. Lightly limping to her chair she spoke again, "it's just a dame should stay in her own lane. Not that I don't wancha to get a little fire on me now. Men just don't like that talk ya know."

Nodding to her response she took the answer and went on her to turn up the radio for the daily news.

Good Morning, ladies and gentlemen and welcome back to the radio show.

   Staring your favorite radio host, I Alastor, to brighten up your morning with a few songs, but let me darken your day for just a minute with such sad news. Another body was found by an egg last night floating down the bayou.

  Coppers have yet to capture this Button man. This tallies up to over twenty people in a span of two years.  Now what most of you fine folk want to listen to here we have, Mr. Artie Matthew's play the 'Weary Blues'

The piano playing filled in the silence that would have been forks hitting plates trying to pick up flimsy fried egg.

 The killings haven't been new and have been the norm for awhile. You can hear people talking about it at every street, alleyway and bar.

 The coppers haven't caught the guy yet and it puts lots of people on edge. Especially people with families.

 Nearly shoving food in my face causing mom to tell you to slow down. But, hardly listening you shove the rest of the bacon into your mouth and make your way to the sink to scrub your plate and placed it on the drying rack.

"Bye, mama. I'll be back before you know it!" You yelled from the front door way and before you could venture outside she yelled back.

"Pick up some milk and bread before ya get home, would ya?"

"I will, mama."

"Have a safe trip and the cabbage on the table for ya." She slightly limped over and gave both of your cheeks kisses.

Checking the table you hurriedly snatched the money and skipped out the door. Slamming it shut behind you.

Walking down the curvy road that leads into the city. The walk leads you through a small, little wood patch and into a small clearing that slowly shows small businesses and shops. The library is located near the school which is pretty far off from other buildings.

Reaching your destination, the library stairs are long wide, and white cemented staircase with two pillars on each side with the big doors that lead into the actually building. Pushing pass them you nearly run into a little boy, Joseph Bonnefoy.

"Oh, where are in such a rush to?" Smoothing out your dress asked in a slight taunting tone.

"Granny said I could go out for a short break. I'm getting myself a few chocolates as a snack." The words rushed out of his tiny mouth. Hardly catching his breath when he was finished.

"Well aren't you grown now, Joseph. Next thing you'll tell me your getting old enough to get your own house." Jokingly ruffling his hair, he smiled and waved off vanishing from sight once down the incline.

Sauntering into the building you noticed that Claire Bonnefoy wasn't at the front desk where she usually was. Probably in the back.

Making your way down the aisles of books you traveled around for a good five minutes passing books you didn't find interesting or they didn't have good covers. Coming across a couple of good ones you touched 'The Good Solider' reading the summary you decide to give it a try. °°It's set just before World War I and chronicles the tragedy of Edward Ashburnham, the soldier to whom the title refers, and his seemingly perfect marriage plus that of his two American friends.°°

Strolling around the aisle for a bit more you grace yourself with some dark writing. Traipsing on to some dark fiction you grabbed a fairytale book of the 'Grimm work original fairy tales'. Walking back to the front, Mrs. Claire was already their and ready for me. Smiling I greeted her and handed the books over. Smiling she rung them up and complimented the choice for this week.

" How have you been, Mrs. Claire. Not to intrude on your personal life, but is it true that the last person who died lived close to you." You questioned.

"Sadly, yes 'n I've been thinkin' of sendin' little Joseph up state with his aunt 'n uncle in Arkansas for awhile 'til this calms down." Her shaky hand clenched around the book harshly, "Or if they finally catch the bastard whose doin' all of this maybe mah little boy can stay. 'Til then mah old joints can't move like they use tah."

" Lititle Jo 's gonna feel so sad, he really likes New Orleans."

"Yes, I know dear. But, I'd sleep betta at night if he was somewhere safa." She slide the books in a paper bag and handed them over. A melancholy smile on her sweet face. "Been saving up on a train ticket for some time now. Most folk don't come by tah rent out books anymore. So, it took some time 'n hard work tah earn the money."

The killings have did put everyone at alert. Well, most people still hang out past sun fall just to watch the city come to life. Which I won't lie it is gorgeous to witness the night come to life. But, for old bims like Mrs. Claire she's dang plum tire and could use the time to calm her nerves. Maybe I should visit more once Joseph''s left.

"Thank ya, Miss. (Y/n). I'll see ya next week or so."

"The pleasure's all mine and I'll give these books back in no time."

Waving to the old bim you make your way back out the library and on tour way to your next destination.

    Making your way back to the house to fetch Issacs's lunch you had to maneuver your way through the crowd of busy people scrambling around to get out of the sweltering heat and catching up with friends.

 Your brother works at a boiler repair shop. Fixing cars and getting scraps of cabbage to make up for the bills that weren't paid. He's always been a hard working guy, he's selfless and protective. I still remember when we were kids and father used to hit him, so hard, but came to my defense whenever I was in trouble.

 Traveling down the dusty road you made it to the repair shop where two boobs stood out front. One was always silent and the other was a continuous flirt whenever you came around.

As soon as they could hear your shoes hitting pavement the flirt Clay shot up to welcome you.

"How are doing this afternoon, (y/n)." His hand went out to grab your, which you quickly pulled back, "you know that offer still stands that if you wanna get tonight."

"I would, but I'm pretty sure your wife would raise all hell." Walking past him to look further into the garage. "Where is my brother, is he not here?"

Floyd spoke up, which startled you. His voice is pretty deep and gravely for a man only four years older than yourself. Blowing the smoke from his mouth he tapped the ash upon the ground to stare at you.

"He left early to go out with his dame. Told us to tell ya not to worry too much and that he'll be back home later tonight." He stole another drag from the cigarette.

"He could at least gave me heads up before I came all the way out here. What I'm supposed to do with this now." Dangling the bag of food from side to side.

"I'll take it off ya hands for ya." Clay swooning in to steal the bag and retreat back to standing next to Floyd. "Wish my wife could cook like your ma."

  Huffing you said your good byes to them both with a very excited 'see ya' from Clay and a small wave from Floyd.

  Once far away enough you groaned louder to reduce some irritation of making this heart felt trip. Pulling on your face to stop tears from forming you sighed and kept walking to your next venture.

 The scratch mom gave you was enough for bread and milk. But, she also gave you enough to get something special from you little trip. You decided on a cup of coffee at the nearest restaurant with a beignet. It sounds so good right now and with more pep in your step you made it to the store in no time.

  The corner store was full of people that day bustling around to grab what they need and storm out. You being the small self you are you tried to cram your way in and failed miserably. You tried this process several times and came out with the same results. Someone bumped into your small frame and sent you falling backwards. Gloved hands snatched you up before you could hit the ground.

You were in a state of shock before being knocked out of your stooper by a young man who you realized pulled you off to the side. With eyes wide you tried to make conversation, but no words would come out the only thing you could look at was his face.

"T-Thanks for helping me." You tried to mustard a smile, but it came out weird.

"You look like you were in quite the pickle their, my dear." Hands still on your waist he motioned with his head down the street. "You know there's a nice restaurant around here that serves the best venison. I think you would just adore it. Could possibly calm your nerves my treat."

Mouth still dry you tried to speak, "I don't want to impose on your lunch regimen." Shaking your head and slowly moving backwards.

"Oh, but I insist my dear I did invite you didn't I." Pulling you closer by the hip, your face heated up more than normal. Now following the man who you didn't even pick up the name you two made your way around the corner and down the street.

  Stepping inside the small business you noticed only about six or eight people in here. Nicely decorated with bar stools and five booths along the wall and a bathroom across from the front entrance. But, it did smell really delicious in here maybe it won't be,  so bad to have just a bite to eat. He did say he was paying. He lead us to a small booth in the back and waited for me sit down first before taking his seat across from me.

 "Why did you bring me here I barely know you, sir?" Playing with your fingers to ease your nerves by making your fingers stretch and squeeze together.

 His eyes looked off to the side in deep thought before he shrugged. "You looked interesting, my dear." Reaching over he scratched under your chin and his smiled covered more of his face. "Smile my dear you know your never fully dressed without one."

 Making a smile fall upon your lips you smiled back. His eyes slightly narowed and his smirk stretched a bit. Suddenly, a very curvy and thick lady stood in front of our booth.

"Oh, Al are here to hear me sing again tonight. If you are your way too early, hun." She giggled.

"Oh no my dear, Mimzy. I'm here with a new friend of mine. She's going to have seasoned venison." His arm motion towards me and I froze on the spot.

Sticking your hand out for handshake, "HI, my name's (y/n). Nice to meet you."

She stared you up and down before slowly taking your hand and managing a small smile on her face. "You must be a fan, Al here, right. A lot of dumb dora fall head over heels for this man."

 I guess she read the confused look on your face and answered for you. "Alastor, the radio man of New Orleans."

"Oh, sorry I guess I didn't notice." Turning your attention to Alastor, "sorry I didn't recognize a popular figure like yourself."

"It's fine dear a lot of people don't recognize the voice with the look." I'm guessing he's talking the creole look. To be honest a lot of people don't sound like the ethnicity on the phone until you see their face. But, I can't really judge I get turned down in person more than on the phone looking for a job.

"Well I'll go tell the servers the usual for you, Al." She looked you over, again. "What will you have?"

"She'll be having the same as me, mim." Alastor strong smile had her face painted in a light pink. She straighten her posture and cleared her throat and told us it it'll come out in no time. Once she gone I asked how long they've known each other.

"Mimzy and I go way back when she was a small singer. Know she travels from time to time to spread that lovely voice of hers." You just took noticed he speaks with hands a lot more than most people. But, you seem to like that.

 Smiling back you told him that really amazing. It was you mothers goal before she stated using. He asked you about your occupation.

"Well, I really wanted to be a baker, but no plots are open, too expansive or I'm not the right skin tone for this establishment." Looking up for just a second you could have sworn the smile on his face fell and quickly went back into place.

"Isn't that just dreadful." He focused up at the ceiling for awhile and shot his head down to smirk at me, "How would like to work for me for a fair price a hour?"

"What?"

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #1920s #human alastor #hazbin hotel mimzy #toxic family #foster family #alastor being a jerk #period typical racism #hazbin hotel au

[xsugarysweetsx]

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 5

A/N: Characters are above the age of 18! Iwaizumi is set as 21 and, reader is 19 turning 20!!

Warnings; closing up again, arguing, iwa being mean, slight angst, slight cursing, slight action (Im horrible at writing action scenes)

Previous Next

°°°° °°°° °°°°

“Wow...it’s been years since he’s shown his vulnerable side. I think you’re getting through to him Y/N“ Oikawa spoke with you in the garden that early morning. You woke you before Hajime and decided to take a walk in the garden and watch the flowers open up. From what Oikawa tells you he appreciated what you had done the night before.

“I don’t know....whenever he’s nice or trying to be it seems forced“ you answer disappointed. You won’t lie to yourself holding him as he held you was nice and something you would welcome again. Would you say it was love or feelings for him? 

You weren’t exactly sure for that matter.

“Well I think,“ Oikawa picks a flower and hands it to you “you my dear, are getting to our king and you want to know something?“

“What?“

“someone has a crush~“ he wiggles his shoulders nudging you a bit 

“Me?“ you asked confused and he simply nodded with a huge grin. Oh goodness was he really playing cupid right now? Before you could answer someone had called your name 

“Y/N?“ Turning around you see Hajime still in his nightwear, just being silk pants and no shirt. He also looked as if he had been running? You stand as he approaches you 

“Are you okay you look-“

“I’m fine, you were gone and I was....I” he stops himself “We, have a meeting with a neighboring kingdom this afternoon and we aren’t ready yet“ 

“Oh I’m sorry. We’ll talk later Oikawa“ you wave as you follow Hajime back to your shared room. He immediately started to get dressed and so you did the same. Shimming out of your nightgown and walking to the the closet where all your dresses hung.

He seemed to be taking this one quite seriously so you take out your favorite dress. It was a pastel pink dress with delicate designs and small detail, simple yet lovely.  

Slipping in to it you go to Hajime and let him tie the corset behind you. This became routine for you now. Helping each other dress and look presentable, now it was just habit. Turning you fix up his buttons and make sure his hair is neat, meanwhile he clasps your necklace around your neck. You do the same for him as your final touches are done.

“How do I look?“ you ask once you were ready. You had never asked him that before and he was caught a bit off guard. He took a breath and did what Oikawa told him. To speak his mind 

“You look...beautiful..“ he said honestly. 

“T-thank you I um...you look handsome“ you compliment back “So who are we meeting, you seem a bit worried“ you said taking his arm 

“They’re a neighboring kingdom who like to pick fights and and battles for more territory“ he explains as you walk down the hall 

“Some time ago they’d pick on farmers who live on the outskirts of the kingdom and steal their goods. Which is why we hesitate to expand land. They had sent a request to become allies, but” he stopped turning to look at you 

“They tend to be very sneaky and will take every chance they can grasp to get their ways. So stay aware understand?“ you gave him a firm nod as his hand slips into yours. It was so...warm, something you had never felt before. It made you feel, safe, it wasn’t a strong hold not a weak one. Two guards stood outside the room and opened the doors.

Upon entering the meeting room sat a man with sharp eyes and a mischievous smirk. If you remember correctly from your lessons they must be from the Kingdom Nohebi, King Suguru Daishou. You and Hajime curtsy and they do the same before taking seats. 

“So the cold king has finally taken a bride, it was about time.“ he chuckles as the papers were laid in front of you all. You pick up your piece and begin to read. Most say to just sign the papers but this was something you were giving permission to, you should at least read it. 

“What are you thinking so far?“ Hajime asks 

“It all seems reasonable except for the part of farms having to house your men whether they want to or not.“ your brows furrow “In other words forced-“

“Well your highness, my knights work extremely hard and most nights are late patrols,“ he intertwines his fingers and rests his chin on them “When they need rest it’s dangerous to do so in the forest“ he smiles 

You still argue against it “Yes but our farmers and yours have the right to refuse if they feel it is needed-”

“It’s the least they can do seeing they’re nothing but dead weight on the kingdom. Just uh...crumbs“ he chuckles smiling at you 

“Do as you want with your kingdom but ours work tirelessly to plant and harvest crops and I will not allow for our soldiers or yours to force themselves into homes.“ You stand your ground with a fiery passion. This was a side Hajime had not seen..and he kind of liked it. Oikawa stood in his spot very interested with what you were saying. 

Suguru didn’t take it too well “If I remember well, the queen was simply there to give the kingdom beauty, she wasn’t to speak during trades.“

“Well then I’m the first. If I am queen, I will protect my people“ damn he felt his cheeks heating up 

“You need to learn to control your woman King Iwaizumi, teach her to hold her tongue” Hajime felt something boil within him. He was angry and wanted to punch him in his smug face but you had beat him to it. The sound of paper ripping filled the room as you threw the pieces at him.

“I reject your proposition“

“That’s really too bad“ he said calmly snapping his fingers. Next thing you knew you were held against cold armor with something cold help to your neck. Scanning the situation you had been brought to the edge of a sword threatening to pierce your skin. You breath was caught in your throat, your eyes frozen on Hajime

“Guards!“ Oikawa called out but only made the blade come against you more. You were genuinely scared at this moment. The guards come in and freeze in place 

“Now, now Iwaizumi, listen closely. If your guards try and come near me, you may big farewell to your queen.“ he said walking to you and pinching one of your cheeks 

“Or maybe I’ll keep her for myself she’d make a fine con-“ and just like a that a punch had landed him square in the jaw sending him to the floor. Quick reflexes allow him to take a hold of the guards sword and get you out of deaths grip.

He pushes you behind him keeping the sword in a strong hold. His guards rushing in to cease the enemy. 

“Get her to our room and do not let her leave“ he said handing her over to his guards 

“Yes sir.“ you were then escorted by three of his guards. Walking to Suguru he squats down and pulls him close to his face

“Pull something like that again, and it’ll be your head hanging on my wall....understand?“ Suguru nods as his body trembles in Hajime’s hold. Letting his go he walks to the door 

“Kick him out and cut our contact off. And I want more men to begin training.“ he said to Oikawa, his entire aura had changed. To one of anger and rage, this couldn’t be good could it?

~

You paced the floor of the shared room waiting for something, anything. You hand rests over your heart where it pounded in your rib cage. If it wasn’t for Hajime you would have been done for. Suddenly the door opens and closes again, turning quickly you see it’s Hajime  

“Oh you’re okay I um..“ you walk to him and take his hands in yours “Thank you...you really saved my life there I-“

“You’re absolutely careless,“ your eyes widen as your head shoots up to look into his eyes “Do you understand what an idiotic move that was I told you to keep your damn guard up and you go and pull that stunt!“ 

“But...it was wrong I had to-“

“What you had to do was keep your damn mouth shut and not say anything. I already told you we were not on good terms and he can now possibly declare a war upon us“ he snatches his hands from yours and walk about the room massaging the bridge of his nose. 

You felt a bit guilty about it “I-I’m sorry..I thought I was helping..” you say quietly 

“Helping?! You nearly got yourself killed! That would have been another death on my shoulders to carry. Damn woman, if it weren’t for you none of this would have happened.“

“Well at least I care for the people of this kingdom unlike you!“

“And you think just because you are here you’d make it better? Please, things would be much easier without you here to pester me.” damn he was angry “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to be all nice to me, whatever in the hell is going on through your head, you’re mistaken“

“..you really are a cold king aren’t you. Not a single trace of compassion..“

“Of course I am. You may be crown queen but you mean nothing to me, if I wanted to have a passionate night I could have a concubine as soon as tonight if I wish“ he said carelessly

You felt the tears welling up from his words “Why did I expect any different from you“ you walk to the door and open it “you’re mother wouldn’t be happy with this.... would she?“ and off you went closing the door.

You run into the old room you were once in. Cold and unwelcoming, just like it’s king. You take the necklace off and toss it on to the vanity and lay on to the bed.

Your head was spinning and your heart throbbed. You thought you had progressed, but it was all for show. He said it, you meant nothing to him. Whatever it was you felt grief wash over you as a sob took over your body. A shaken sob falls from your lips as tears stain the sheets. A knock came to the door, a timid head came in 

“your majesty?“ it was Rose she came in and shut the door. “Ma’am, do you need something“ lifting your head to look at her. Her kind eyes only made you break down and fall into his seeking comfort. She patted your back and let you get everything out

“I tried Rose..s-so hard it just..rose...“ you look up at her with dreadful eyes “I-I think...“

“What is it ma’am?“

“I think I..l-love....“ she completely understood and just let you continue until you had fallen asleep from crying. She really did feel bad for you, you had tried so hard but only got his cold side as a result. After setting you properly in bed she walks out of the room quietly. Oikawa happened to be passing by and had gone to ask Rose what happened 

“She’s..*sigh* she’s very hurt. She had cried until she had fallen asleep. I think she’s developed feelings for the king and after their argument she’s just so broken“

“I’ll see what the king says then, get some sleep alright?“ he kisses her forehead and heads back to Hajime’s room. He simply walks in on the king sulking in his chair.

“What did you say to her?“

“What she couldn’t handle a few words? Pft, she’s weaker than I though-“

“Hajime!“ it’s been a few years since he used his first name “She just cried herself to sleep because of you! I don’t care what your argument was about but if you really want this to work this isn’t how you deal with a problem!“

Hajime was shocked to say the least.

“I thought she would have been someone to give you a wake up call and realize you don’t have to be so cold. And to think she actually cares for you....” disappointed was an understatement

“....I was afraid...”

“What?” Now Oikawa was just confused

“If I....if I had seen it coming she wouldn’t have been put in danger...” without another word he stands form his seat and leaves the room

“Damn him! He never listens!” Oikawa stomped his foot almost childlike.

Hajime walks to your old room and opens the door carefully. Peaking inside he sees your chest rising and falling slowly. Walking closer to you he could see how the moon reflected on the dry tear marks in your cheeks. On the vanity your necklace caught the light, shimmering every now and then.

He squats down to eye level with you and brushes some hair form your face. His heart had a slight pang seeing you like this.

“I can’t say this to you while you’re awake, but I was genuinely afraid of them taking you. I lost my parents and friends over the years....I’m not losing you either” he lays a kiss to your forehead and whispers against it “I’m sorry, please forgive me.” he pulled the covers over to keep you warm, he stands and walks back out of the room and calls over two guards.

“You already know what I want you both here for. Once she wakes escort her to where she what’s to go, and stay with her, understood?”

“Yes sir.” They stand their ground now, protecting by you as you slept. Hajime returns to his room and sits in front of his vanity. He removes his jewelry and strips form his clothing. The room felt heavy and empty without your presence. Without you cleaning up in the bathroom, or brushing your hair.

He slips under the covers and huffs out a breath. He looks to his left where you were supposed to be laying. His hand hesitantly reaches over and brings you pillow closer to him. It smelled of you, the gentle smell of flowers and soap filled his nose with delight. It should have been you in his arms, like that night you held him.

Oh how he loved being held and comforted, you more gentle then they had told him. He swore he would make it up to you, tomorrow was his chance to apologize. His chance to show you a different side of him, he can only hope you’ll accept his apology.

~~

His sleep was restless, he tossed and turned not able to stay asleep. Just as the sun was rising Hajime got out of bed and ran straight to Oikawa. He woke with a start from knocking at his door, he grumbled over to the door. He scowled looking at Hajime

“If you think saying sorry before sunrise is romantic you should think agai-“ he tried to close the door but was stopped by Hajime

“I need your help, I want to apologize to her today but I’m not sure how“ Oikawa crossed his arms and leans on the door frame 

“Two conditions“ he held up his two fingers  “One, you have to follow my plan and do it with your heart and soul, two, you need to tell her how you feel“

“....“

“Iwa...“

“Fine, where do we start?“ he asked. Oikawa smiles and walks past him, following him Oikawa leads him to the servant floor. He walks down to the last door, he recognized it as the one maid who has been here since he was a child.

Oikawa goes in and comes back about 2 minutes later. He came back with a young girl who was rubbing sleep from her eyes. As soon as she sees Hajime she wakes up and bows to hi m 

“Good morning you majesty-“

“You don’t have to Rose but we do need your help“ Oikawa lifts her and cups her face “can you?“ she nods and he kisses her nose

“...Since wh-“

“Off we go!“ he was cut off being dragged down the hall into Oikawa’s plan. Hopefully this won’t make his position with you worse than it already was.

°°°° °°°° °°°°

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