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animensfw-smut · 3 years

Note

Smut reader x anyone from the bhna fandom but reader has a bubble gum quirk(kind a like princess bubblegum from adventure time)

I had a hard time choosing who to write this one for and I finally decided on Ojiro. He kinda fits the most with this request for some reasons. I didn’t know if you wanted me to actually base reader on Princess Bubblegum so i didn’t, but I’m sorry if you did 😭

Reader can’t control her quirk. She can create sticky bubble gum bubbles to trap people. Her nickname for Ojiro is Rao.

I’ll probably be opening up requests again after I’ve finished all the current requests... Not me thinking I’ve only got 6 left-

WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+, semi-public sex, oral.

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*Second pov*

“Watch out!!!” You screamed as you headed straight for Ojiro. You hoped it wouldn’t end like this, but you knew your quirk was not stable enough yet. This led to you being trapped in your own bubble, along with Ojiro who was sparring with you.

“Mm, it’s a bit... Tight in here...” He groaned out, rubbing his head from the sudden crash. Your whole body was pressed against his, rubbing against him as you tried to get up. His hands stopped you from moving, grabbing your hips firmly,

“(y-y/n), please... Stop moving.” He let out an uncomfortable smile, relaxing once you stopped moving. Your face heated up at feeling his dick pressing against you.

“... Sorry.” You hung your head, ashamed to have caught him in your quirk as well. His fingers brushed your hair out of your face,

“It’s fine.” Your quirk lasts for quite a while, so you both knew you were going to be stuck there for at least an hour.

It was silent, your breathing the only sound in the bubble. The bubble continued to roll across the grass until it hit a dead end in a hidden alley. At this point, your limbs were all over the place, your hands pressed against the surface of the pink bubble.

“Ah~” The warm air entering your crotch drew out a moan from within your throat. You looked down, your face burning with embarrassment at the situation you caught yourself in,

“A-Ah, I’m so sorry, Rao...!” You tried to move but his fingers dug into your plush thighs, stopping your movements. It felt wet and slimy as something stroked along your core. Your hips stuttered forward on impulse, moving in sync with his tongue.

“W-Want more...” Your breathy moans were music to Ojiro’s ears, and his fingers reached to your core, pulling the fabric apart. The loud ripping sound made you gasp as you looked down,

“R-Raoooo...!!!”

“You needed a new costume anyway, right?” The look in his eyes were different, it was full of desire and lust. You unconsciously nodded, watching with unblinking eyes as his tongue dived into your cunt. The raw contact of his tongue was like heaven to you. Your hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair, tugging at it lightly as you bucked your hips.

Your slick covered his face as you continued to ride his tongue, his nose digging into your clit. Ojiro’s briefs were stained with his precum, his hand reaching down to palm his cock as he ate you out. His eyes were trained on your cunt, the way it clamped down on his tongue whenever the muscle entered you.

“Cum... Cum for me~” He hummed, his lips sucking on your clit as his free hand groped your ass. You whined at the sudden stimulation, your hips moving at a faster pace as you chased after your release.

His mouth continued sucking on your clit before laping up your cum, drinking it all without wasting a single drop. He situated you on his chest, looking up at you from down below.

He looked so lewd, your juices covering the lower half of his face, some of your cum covering his chest. His tongue licking his fingers covered in your essence.

“How was that, princess?” The pet name he gave you made your core clench.

“I... want more...” You trailed off, looking elsewhere, too embarrassed to face him. He patted your thigh, and you moved off him, waiting for his next move.

“Princess, press your hands against the wall, will you?~” You did as he told you to do, your dripping cunt on full display for him. You shivered as his breath tickled your neck. You could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your opening, eager to split you open.

“I’m gonna go in now, okay princess?” You nodded, and he slowly slipped inside. Ojiro groaned at the warmth coming from your pulsating walls, wet from his saliva and your cum mixed together.

“So nice and wet for me~” His thick length inside you started moving, pulling out quickly before entering you nice and slow, making sure to reach the deepest parts within you and rub against everything.

His tail wrapped around to reach your breasts, curling around one and squeezing, your nipple being brushed by the tip of his tail.

“Ahnnnn~ F-Feels weird...!” Your core clenched around him as his tail continued to tease your nipple, brushing over it repeatedly while squeezing your breast. His hand played with your breast not occupied by the tail, squeezing and pinching your nipple. Ojiro’s other hand gripped your hip as he rammed into you. Your legs trembled as you tried to stay standing.

His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, every thrust sending you forward and pressing against the bubble more. He lifted up your leg, pressing deeper inside you,

“R-Rao...! M’s-slipping...” You remarked as your hand slid against the rubbery wall. It wasn’t as if you could get a grip on the wall properly in the first place.

“It’s... mngh... Fine... I’m still holding onto y-you...”

“Mmmnnn, h-harder... I want you to f-fuck me harder...” You moaned out, trying to reach your high yet again. His breathing was uneven as he quickened his pace, fucking you harder against the wall. His cock throbbed as you started to clench around him, a sign that he was close to cumming.

You continued to move your hips back and forth, desperately trying to cum. Ojiro grips your hips, drilling into you, each time rubbing against the spot that made you see stars.

“C-Cumming...! M’cumming...!” You cried out, your toes curling as you came, your muscles tightening around Ojiro.

“Mng... Gonna cum inside you, yeah princess? Would you like that?”

“Y-Yes... P-Please...!” You moaned, trying your best to answer. His hips stuttered as he came, his warm cum flooding into your pussy and making your stomach warm. He gave a few more thrusts, inserting the cum deeper inside you.

You collapsed on the floor, facing right side up as you tried to catch your breath. Ojiro smiled down at you,

“Tired?” You hummed, nodding. Suddenly, a loud ‘pop’ resounded and before you knew it, you were falling to the ground. Ojiro’s quick reaction allowed him to scoop you up into his arms. But the bubble gum still ended up sticking to both of you as it popped.

You both started laughing,

“I’m sorry hahaha!!!” You tried to apologise to Ojiro as you were both covered in the bubble gum.

The next day, you both smelled of bubble gum and everyone seemed suspicious of you two...

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A/N

Sorry for the late update!!! I also realised I’ve not wrote about fluffy smut in ages! I feel like i should start writing fluffy smut again, though i have to see if the request works with it first...

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this request!!! Recently, I’ve not had motivation to write any smut or anything cos i just had no inspiration but ah well, i hope this was good enough ^^ I also realised that i really have no idea what to write for the male side when reader has sex with them... I feel like I’m repeating myself lol.

#mashirao ojiro #ojiro mashirao #ojiro x reader #mashirao x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #anime smut

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marvelfansince08love · 3 years

Text

Hey Neighbour! - Part 8

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader

Warning: uhh some implications of sex

A/N: Hi, a big big sorry to you all on the late updates to this. I have no self control and have far too many WIP rn and keep forgetting to update this one as I’ve almost finished it! Happy reading! Apologise for any grammar/spelling mistakes x

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @creepingwolfberry @coconutlipss @saucy-sapphic @minavenable @pearplate @r0an0ke @mssallymckenna @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @venablemayfairgoode @chewbacca0805 @pluied-ete @supremeinlilac @nyx-aira @witchxaf @black--widxw @fireflyglass @cordeliafoxxe @d14n4ol @bluevelvetbitxh @amethyst-bitch @lezzzbehonesthere @msvenablezcane @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @mooreashes @violentwavesofem0tion @cordeliass @women-am-i-right @paulsonpills @goodeday2u @sm0ke-and-m1rr0rs @daisybri7

Hey Neighbour! - Part 8

You had avoided the Mayfair-Richards home for the past five days unable to face the woman you had fallen in love with. Old wounds and insecurities had opened up causing you to retreat from your neighbours, Amelia had also picked up on your change of mood which caused the guilt to amplify. The two young children still saw each other at school leading Amelia to mention how Oz had told her how sad his mother looked whenever she did the dishes at night, to anyone else they would have been bewildered by the statement but for you it was like a stab to the heart. Ally had tried to call and text you to ask if you were okay, your short texts back and actively declining calls must have given her the hint that you didn’t want to be contacted because after the first three days she stopped trying. You hated yourself for doing this to her but you couldn’t help but fall back into the familiar withdrawal habit whenever you felt this way, no matter who you hurt in the process.

“Mama, I’m finished!” Amelia announces, smiling proudly at her empty plate. You’re startled out of your thoughts as you look towards her matching her wide smile with a forced one. Your brother sits next to her as his eyes stay fixated on your form, concern evident within his gaze.

“Well done, Amelia-cakes! Why don’t you go wash your hands and brush your teeth for bed,” you instruct softly, watching as she nods and dashes out of the room. You quickly make eye contact with him as you lean forward keeping your voice low so to not alert Amelia of the intense situation..

“I wish you would stop looking at me like that,” you whisper harshly, he only shakes his head mutely before responding.

“I just don’t understand why you’re making yourself and her miserable, you clearly like each other a lot. Don’t ruin this just because you’re allowing your negative thoughts to take over,” his voice soft and gentle causing you to falter, expecting a harsher response. Sighing you relax back before taking a sip from the wine glass.

“Will you please help Amelia upstairs while I clean up here?” you ask instead, attempting to avoid the current topic of conversation. He sighs in defeat before dutifully leaving the room to find his niece.

You stand from your chair and collect the empty plates before moving towards the sink, as you begin to clean the dishes you notice a slightly dimmed light across the way causing you to tense, slowly you look up from your task and towards the light. Ally stands at her kitchen counter, even from here you can see how tired she looks causing that familiar guilt to creep up into your chest once more. She looks down for a few moments before placing a large piece of paper into the window, words written in black ink for you to read.

‘I think we need to talk’ The words cause you to gulp as you nod back before searching for some spare paper to write back on.

‘Garden in ten?’ you try to smile hoping to ease the situation but falter when she doesn’t return it and only nods back in acknowledgment.

Wiping your hands on a dry towel you hurriedly move upstairs to inform your brother of your plan, he reassures you that he’ll be fine with Amelia while you go to talk to Ally giving you an encouraging smile before shoving you back towards the staircase. Grabbing your thick jacket and shoes you make your way towards the front of Ally’s home, waiting patiently for her to let you in. Your breath catches in your throat as you take her in, the urge to reach out and hold her becoming stronger with each passing second, brown tired eyes scan your face before silently standing to the side allowing you to move in. You head straight for the kitchen and into the garden area sitting down in your usual spot, you wait for her to join you. A hot cocoa mug appears in front of your view causing you to smile sadly as you take it from her hands muttering a quick ‘thank you’. It’s quiet and dark out except for the porch light that glows above you, both sitting quietly as you take a sip of the hot drink.

“Ally I-”

“Why weren’t you honest with me? If there was something wrong you should have told me instead of practically falling off the face of the earth,” her statement catches you off guard, causing you to falter as you stare at the mug in your hand.

“After she left me and Amelia I was struggling for a while, I couldn’t cope with working and looking after a baby full time but I had this beautiful girl to look out for so she became my top priority over everything, my job, my friends. It took me years before I could trust others outside of my family to take care of her. I’m not good at having these healthy relationships that are good for me and I am so sorry that I’ve treated you this way, you deserve better than this,” you mutter, tears gathering within your blurred vision.

“I understand how hard it can be to trust people, I mean you know about Ivy and how she betrayed me, betrayed Oz. I get why you got scared when things were looking serious, I’ve had my moments with that too but Y/N I’m not like her and you aren’t like Ivy.” She pauses, collecting her thoughts before continuing.

“We are good people and I don’t think it was a coincidence that it was you who so happened to move in next door… that night after the fair apart from Oz I’ve never been so certain about anything in my life, I want to be with you and I want this to go somewhere but I need you to speak to me and be honest with me,” Ally tilts her head as if seeking your gaze before reaching across and grabbing your hand.

“I’m so so sorry, Ally. I should have spoken to you about my worries, I’m not used to someone caring. I just looked at how comfortable we all were in your kitchen that morning, how domestic it all was and my god I couldn’t have fallen further for you but my mind was screaming at me that if I allowed Amelia to become closer to you and you decided to leave… I can’t have another person walk out on her.. On me,” you stutter over your words as you feel your throat tighten, holding back a sob. Ally moves from her seat and crouches in front of you placing your mug onto the table she takes both your hands into her own, squeezing them with reassurance.

“I love you y/n. This week has been tortuous the amount of times I thought about walking over and forcing you to speak to me, but I knew you needed time to collect your thoughts. I may not have been obvious with it but I could tell something had spooked you that morning but please come and talk to me whenever you feel trapped into a corner, okay?” her dark brows arch, as she waits for your response. As you nod Ally reaches upwards and captures your salty lips with her own, her warm comforting hands cupping your face in place.

Tears continue to fall between you both as Ally presses gentle kisses along your jaw and cheeks seeking out that comforting touch, you realise that you were wrong. Ally isn’t like the rest of them, she’s kind and caring but most of all she understands you in a way that no one else can relate to. You quickly capture her lips, a heated kiss needing to feel her close.

“Is Oz upstairs?”

“No, he’s staying at a friends house,” she mumbles, against your lips. Pulling back you look into her slightly glazed eyes and demand the thing you need most.

“Take me to bed, Ally.”

With that, Ally grabs your hand and leads you back inside the house. The moonlight glows throughout the room giving you a clear view of Ally’s face as you allow her to look after you, whispering soft reassurances against your exposed skin leaving trails of wet kisses along your body, closing your eyes you surrender yourself to this woman finally allowing yourself to be loved without restrictions.

***

Bright light beams through into the bedroom causing you to stir and groan at the invasive light cuddling into the softness of Ally’s chest enjoying her warmth and secure form wrapped around you. Lips graze against your hair as the brunette whispers a ‘Good Morning’ causing you to smile as you watch her fingers brush over your forearm that has stayed wrapped around her waist all night.

“Good Morning, Honey. Did you sleep well?” your fake-innocence doesn’t pass Ally as she chuckles deeply, her hand moving to tilt your chin upwards causing your lips to brush against her swollen ones.

“Deliciously actually,” her hoarse voice, makes you shiver before you capture her lips once more enjoying the sounds that escape her throat.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs and quick footsteps making their way upstairs causes you to part suddenly, blindly reaching for your scattered clothes recognizing those footsteps from anywhere.

“Mom!!” Oz’s voice shouts from the hallway, causing you to quickly cover up and head for the en-suite bathroom needing to freshen up before the poor boy sees you. Ally’s eyes follow after your retreating form in light amusement as she tucks on the woolly jumper and ties the string around her joggers.

“Mom I’m home! We had such a cool night! Jeremy bought over his new racing car you know the one with the remote it was awesome!” Oz’s excited voice trails into the room as he runs straight for Ally’s legs hugging her tightly, she places her hands on top of his crazy blonde curls and smiles.

“Well it certainly sounds like you had fun! So where is Sam’s mom? You didn’t just run from her car without saying thank you did you?” Ally’s tone makes you smile as you peak through the gap of the bathroom door always infatuated with her motherly side. Oz tries to hide his expression but with one raised eyebrow from Ally the boy slumps and sighs before nodding.

“It’s okay Ally! He was just excited to see you! Oz I’ve left your bag by the door okay,” Sam’s mom shouts from the staircase before the sound of the front door closing reaches your ears. Taking this as your cue you leave the bathroom just as the sound of screeching reaches your ears, a small body colliding with your own making you stumble.

“Woah! Hey Buddy!” you greet with a groan, laughing as you place you cup your hand around his jaw cradling him close. A sense of guilt lingering within your chest, the realisation what your actions could have done to the poor boy being the same fear you have for Amelia.

“I’ve missed you,” he mumbles into your stomach, you crouch to be eye level with him and give him the biggest smile you could muster.

“I’m sorry for not being around much, silly adults and silly work has been keeping me busy. I promise to make it up to you,” you murmur, watching as he nods accepting your apology before turning to leave to grab his backpack from downstairs. You stand from your position and fold your arms across your chest, that unsettling feeling still present, Ally steps towards you and places her hands onto your cheeks before kissing your lips.

“Stop, I can practically hear the gears turning in that beautiful head of yours. Now let’s go downstairs. I want to see my girl.” Her words cause you to raise a question eyebrow as your lips twitch into a half grin.

“Oh?”

Ally grins wickedly, before stepping towards the door. “I meant Amelia silly.”

With that she winks and takes her leave leaving you agape.

“Well I know my place then,” you grumble playfully before running after the mischievous Senator.

As if on cue the sound of the front door stops you both in your tracks midway down the stairs, Ally moves to answer the door and beams when she sees Amelia stood with her Uncle who has a very dirty grin on his face as his eyes move from Ally to you wiggling his brows as Ally crouches down and fronds over Amelia who seems to be enjoying the attention from her favourite person.

“Uncle Rupert said you guys had a sleepover without me, Ms. Ally!” she exclaims, a small pout forming onto her lips and you bite your own to stop your laughter. From the shakes coming from Ally’s shoulder the woman seems to be doing the same.

“Oh sweetheart I’m so sorry, I promise we can have soon okay? Just me and your mom needed to have a grown-up sleepover to talk.”

“Yeah I bet you did,” Rupert mumbles, amusement evident within his tone. You glare at him from your position as Oz comes running from the living room area, he instantly goes to hug his friend as he drags her further into the house telling her all about his sleepover. Rupert waits by the door as Ally gives him a shy hello before following the two leaving you to talk privately to the smug man.

“Not a word,” you demand, making sure to punctuate every word, it only seems to make him grin further. He shrugs putting his hands up in surrender as he steps through the door meeting you at the bottom of the staircase.

“So are we back on then? Oh and no need to thank me for looking after the devil's spawn last night, I swear she just knows what to do to make me crumble. I didn’t even know you still owned a Nintendo Wii,” he rants, as you both walk towards the kitchen where Ally sits with the two children all drinking from their respective mugs. Rupert goes to sit next to Amelia as he steals her mug to take a sip as she glares at him. You shake your head at the two before clashing eyes with Ally who winks over her mug gesturing you over which you gladly do. Stood behind her you wrap your arms around her shoulders and listen as they all converse amongst themselves enjoying these rare moments that you will hold dearly, smiling you kiss Ally’s temple before relaxing joining in on the conversation.

Now relaxed you allow the past to stay at the back of your mind as you look forward to the future, a secret plan up your sleeve you allow the details to rail off within your head excited to show Ally just how much she means to you and how do you do that?

By going official, of course.

#ally mayfair richards x reader #ally mayfair richards #ally mayfair imagine #ally mayfair x reader #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #ahs cult #american horror story #hey neighbour! series #my work

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breathing-and-writing · 3 years

Text

Bugs Need To Be Warm During Winter

Happy Holidays @voiidfriend, I’m your back-up @mlsecretsanta! I’m sorry it took so long, but I hope you enjoy your gift!

Read on Ao3

January, the start of the new year, a month of new beginnings. The new year always brought the opportunity for setting resolutions and trying new things, but unfortunately for some students, it also meant the start of a new semester. Coming back to class in the middle of winter was not only hard for them but also concerning for a certain kwami, who knew that his other half had a hard time during the colder months, especially if she was alone.

The little god peeked his head out of his chosen’s bag to look at the classroom. He had probably never seen the class this bored before, the lack of energy from having to start school again so blatantly evident, he had to hold back the urge to cackle. The most important thing was that everyone was either looking directly at the board or trying really hard not to fall asleep, so he should be able to do what he wanted while staying undetected. Leaving the warmth of the bag he had been occupying behind, he kept under the desks as he inched towards a certain pink purse, going into it when he finally reached it.

“Plagg?” He had honestly been hoping for a more excited greeting.

“Hey, Sugar cube.” His words were accompanied by a smirk.

“You shouldn’t be here, what if someone had seen you?”

“Eh,” he made a nonchalant gesture with his hands, “you worry too much, everyone here is blind.”

“What are you doing here?” Apparently, she was going straight to the point.

“Oh, you know what I’m doing here.” He tried to appear indifferent, but he couldn’t help but gingerly avert his eyes.

“No, I don’t. Please enlighten me.” Now it was Tikki’s turn to appear smug.

“Bugs need to be warm during winter.” He said reluctantly.

“Oh, and you’re here because…?” Her eyes widened in what most would consider an innocent way, but Plagg knew better.

“Don’t make me say it.” He pleaded with a groan.

The wide blue eyes that stared back at him told him that she wanted him to say it.

“Because I don’t want you to be cold.” He grudgingly admitted.

“I’m fine.” If she hadn’t shivered at the exact same moment she replied, the other god probably would’ve believed her.

“Tikki, we’re two halves of a whole. No amount of scarves or blankets will keep you warm like me.”

She distracted herself by burrowing deeper into her scarf. “That doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t be away from Chat Noir.”

“You know it’s true. It’s not our fault they don’t know their identities yet.”

“But–”

“And you shouldn’t have to suffer because of it.”

“Aw Plagg, you do care!”

“Whatever,” he dismissed her words, then quietly added, “you know I do.”

“I guess you being here for a little while won’t hurt anybody.”

“I knew you would listen to reason.” A grin started taking over his face.

“But as soon as the class is over you go back to Chat Noir, okay? An Akuma could attack at any moment.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gestured for her to come closer as he opened his arms. “Now c’mere.”

┅┅┅┅┅

For the first day back at school after winter break, it sure had been a busy one. A whole day of classes mixed in with Alya explaining to her every single new update she had made to the Ladyblog and ending with the first student body meeting of the year. A meeting that lasted two hours longer than it should’ve, because half of the people hadn’t bothered to read the e-mail that had been sent a week ago, and the other half just kept disagreeing with everything proposed. It sure was enough to make a part-time superheroine long for a nap.

Marinette started making her way down the stairs towards the locker room, so she could gather her things and finally go home. She let out a dreamy sigh as she spotted her favorite fencer currently practicing in the courtyard. How did Adrien Agreste manage to be so good at everything he did?

The boy took a sudden pause in his match, lifting his mask and waving at the girl as he spotted her too. Somehow, she managed to bring her hand up to wave back, though she was more focused on keeping her blush to a minimum and not missing any steps like the last time she ended up falling down the stairs.

The girl sighed as she finally reached the locker room, relaxing as she closed the door behind her. Remembering her kwami, she opened her purse she could address her.

“Hey, Tikki, I’m sorry the meeting took so long, it’s just–” Her voice failed her as she saw the inside of her purse.

Tikki was there alright, sleeping soundly while burrowed deep into her scarf like she was supposed to, but she wasn’t alone. Instead of using the fabric as a pillow, she was nestled in the arms of another sleeping kwami, a certain bad luck kwami that wasn’t supposed to be there.

As Marinette continued to stare, Tikki started to stir, sighing as she opened her eyes. She seemed to be in pure bliss until she looked up and their gazes met. The little god gulped as she shook her companion awake. Plagg started to complain as he stirred, but then he opened his eyes fully and realized their predicament. He wisely chose to stay quiet.

“Plagg?” The girl finally found her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you see, it’s actually quite a funny story–”

“Wait.” She cut him off abruptly.

Marinette paused to scan the room. Once she was sure they were alone, she moved to the hidden spot behind the lockers, so they would be out of sight of anyone that decided to come in.

“Okay. Okay, okay, okay.” She addressed the kwamis again. “What is going on? Why are you here? And why aren’t you with Chat Noir?”

“Relax, M.” Plagg said as he started floating up towards her eye level. “We were just taking a little nap.”

“What?!”

“Sugar cube here needed some warmth, that’s all.”

“Do you have any idea how irresponsible and dangerous that was?!”

She looked accusingly at the kwamis, both of them now out of her purse, and started pacing to try and keep her words calm.

“What if someone had seen you? Or what if there had been an Akuma? You guys know we have to put Paris first, Chat Noir and I have always had to do that.”

She stopped at the mention of her partner, realizing yet another problem that came with their situation. If she wasn’t panicking a moment ago, she definitely was starting to now.

“Oh my god, does he know you’re here?” She whipped her head to look at Plagg, his averted gaze gave her all the answer she needed. “He doesn’t. He doesn’t! He must be panicking right now! Do you even know how to go back to him?” Her volume started rising in tandem with her panic. “Oh no, this is a complete disaster!”

“Uh, Marinette–”

“You know I’m not that type of person, but I’m the Guardian now! All of us are supposed to be working together to–”

“MARINETTE!”

The voice of her kwami managed to break through her rambling.

“What?” She asked in exasperation.

Both kwamis stood there stiffly, nervously pointing to something behind her.

“Oh, don’t you think you’re going to be able to distract me from–” Her words died in her throat as she turned and saw what, or more precisely who, they were pointing to. Uh oh.

“Adrien! Hey!” She tried to appear casual as she shifted to try and hide the kwamis behind her body. “What are you doing here?” She failed.

Adrien seemed to break out of his trance at her words. He took a deep breath and tried to say something normal, but apparently, his filter had been left behind in the courtyard.

“Oh, you see, after class today I couldn’t find Plagg, so I thought I could ditch fencing a bit early today, so I could have time to look for him before my driver arrived, so that’s what I did and here he is, so I guess my plan worked.” Maybe he should’ve thought about what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

“Oh, okay that makes sense.” A whole ten seconds of awkward silence went by, then his words sunk in, and she took a double-take. “Wait, what?”

“I mean, I found him, but now I’m just confused by the whole situation.” He tried to smile to convey that nothing was wrong, but it ended up looking more like a wince.

“Let me explain,” Plagg came forward as he cleared his throat, “I snuck into Mari’s bag during class, so I could help Tikki stay warm ‘cuz I care about her wellbeing or something, but we ended up falling asleep… haha.” Everyone was gaping at him, so he tried to defuse the tension by continuing his explanation. “Basically, kid… yeah, you were right about who you thought Ladybug was.”

“Plagg!” Tikki replied in outrage.

“I’m sorry Tikki, but we obviously can’t salvage this one.” He finalized with a shrug.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait a minute.” Marinette interrupted their exchange. “Does that mean you are…” She turned to look at Adrien, still in shock.

“Mhm,” he managed, “and you are…” The shocked expression left his face and was replaced by a dashing grin as he realized.

They were obnoxiously interrupted by the sound of the doors banging open and the chatter of students entering the locker room after their fencing practice. Their time was up.

“We’ll talk later tonight, okay?” He said in a gentle tone.

She only managed to nod back before he exited the room.

Once the last student left, and she was alone again, Marinette felt like she could finally breathe. She tried to process everything that had just happened calmly, in the hopes of preventing another freak-out, but then the last words Adrien had said to her registered in her mind: “We’ll talk later tonight, okay?” He had said that they were going to talk later tonight because they had patrol later tonight. Later tonight! That was very soon–too soon–how was she going to manage to put herself together in only a couple of hours?

┅┅┅┅┅

Transforming and leaving her room had been painless enough, she had even left for patrol a couple of minutes early like she always did. It was when she was almost at their meeting place that she decided she needed a moment alone, just to take a breather, it would be quick, and then she would arrive on time to patrol. Which is why she was now on a random secluded rooftop, nervously pacing its length, and taking "deep breaths" that sounded pretty similar to hyperventilating, almost half an hour past the time she was supposed to meet Chat Noir for patrol.

The knowledge that she was late just added to her internal turmoil, which she was so absorbed in that she didn’t hear a certain someone landing a couple of paces beside her.

“You’re running a little late to patrol, aren’t you?”

She stopped on her tracks at the sound of her partner’s voice, avoiding his gaze as she started wringing her hands.

“Hmm… yeah.” She admitted in defeat. “How did you know?” She turned to look at him as she asked.

“You’re my best friend Ladybug, I know you too well.” He accompanied his words with a gentle smile.

“Yeah… you are.” She realized.

He started to slowly approach her, trying to read her current mood.

“What’s bothering that pretty little head of yours?”

“You know what it is.” She said in an apprehensive tone.

“Well, I also know there is something else besides the fact that we know each other's names now.”

“This was not supposed to happen.” Had it not been for Chat Noir’s enhanced hearing he wouldn’t have heard it.

“I… are you disappointed?” He felt an ugly weight in his stomach. “Is it because you don’t like Adrien?”

“What?!” Ladybug seemed to snap out of her trance. “No, no. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just… I feel like I failed.” She couldn’t stand to look him in the eyes.

“You know this was an accident, right?” He tried to comfort her.

“Yes! An accident that could’ve cost us everything! What if it hadn’t been you?” Her partner stood speechless. “I’m the Guardian because I messed up, and I haven’t stopped messing up ever since!” She groaned as frustration took over her. “I’m not ready to be the Guardian and I don’t know if I’ll ever be.” She turned around to avoid looking at her partner’s face.

“Maybe you weren’t ready, but I’ve always thought that things happen for a reason. It was meant to be.”

Her eyes got misty as she replied. “It’s just… I don’t want things to change, I never wanted things to change.”

“Well, I think things should change.” He closed the distance between them as he stood directly behind her. “Change can be for the better too, you know?” His touch was soft as he gently grasped her shoulders and spun her around, forcing her to look at him. “Bugaboo, we’re a team, remember? You don’t have to go through any of this alone, and you get to make your own rules now. You’re the Guardian after all.”

“Promise?” Her voice was small as she asked.

“Yeah, promise. It’s you and me against the world.” He stood at ease again when he saw some tension leave her shoulders. “You better now?”

The ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Yeah, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” his voice took a sly lilt, “because we still need to talk about the other thing.”

“The other thing?”

Adrien had practiced this part of the conversation and knew exactly what he wanted to say, but now it seemed that words started to leave his mouth without guide or permission. “Yeah, look, I know on the other side of the masks we are not the closest of friends or anything–”

Oh, that other thing. Ladybug remembered, and the shock of the earlier reveal came crashing back into her.

“–I mean, I get it, my father can be very intimidating, and I don’t really have free time so, like, it’s not your fault at all that we aren’t closer–”

Oh my god, it has been Adrien all this time! And he thinks I don’t like him!–

“–and I hope this isn’t too sudden… Is it too sudden?–”

–but if he has been in love with Ladybug all this time… that’s me!–

“–but I’d really like to be closer to you, like, on both sides of the masks. I mean, I’ve always wanted too anyways because Marinette is so amazing–”

He is so cute when he’s rambling like that… Did he just say I’m amazing?

“–so could we, like, hang out sometime? Or just talk? I know you’re always super busy too, so–”

She decided to end his suffering by bringing a single finger up to his lips, effectively ending his rambling.

“Shutupshutupshutup.” She said in a hushed tone.

Ladybug’s mood continued to lift as he looked at her with confused kitten eyes.

“As adorable as it is to see you rambling, you really don’t have to do that.”

The confusion left his face at her words and was replaced by smugness. “You think I’m adorable?”

Now it was Marinette’s turn to be flustered as she realized what she had said. After all this time, THIS is how I confess?

“Ah–I–no, I mean, yes? I mean–” A blush started taking over her cheeks. “I’ve kind of always have?”

“Bugaboo…”

“I always thought of Adrien like that,” she averted her eyes, “and that’s the only reason I spent all that time trying to convince myself that Chat Noir wasn’t,” then as an afterthought she added, “but I definitely failed at that.”

“Oh…” understanding started to sink into him, “I always thought you stayed away from Adrien because I wasn’t as cool as you.”

“No… I was just nervous around you… all the time.”

“We really just were running around in circles all the time, huh?” He said with a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, I guess we were.”

“Can I?” He was hesitant as he opened his arms for a hug.

“Yes, Kitty, you can.”

He engulfed her in a hug, both of their hearts soaring.

“So, so, so,” he pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes, “if I like you,” he continued at her nod, “and you like me,” a grin started taking over his face, “does that mean we can–”

“Hold your thought right there Chaton.”

She stood on her tiptoes, bringing their faces inches from each other. She placed her lips right next to his ear, having to hold in a laugh at how tense he got.

“You have to beat me to the Eiffel Tower first.” She whispered.

Without wasting a second, Ladybug threw out her yo-yo, taking up from the rooftop in direction to the Eiffel Tower, only turning back to laugh at Chat Noir’s indignant expression.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

#ml secret santa #ml secret santa 2020 #ml #miraculous ladybug #ml fic #adrien agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #plagg #Tikki #identity reveal #secret santa #My fic #My writing #ml fanfic #fluff

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thewalkingdeadimaginings · 3 years

Text

When I Found You

Can I have a Tara x fem reader where the reader and her family are a new group Alexandrian's meet and Tara starts to fall for her ? X

Hey guys! I know I’ve been away, not updating anything for the last year. I guess I haven’t felt too much motivation with everything that’s been going on this past year. And my mental health has gone up and down a lot lately. I’ve…developed anxiety? Which is a weird feeling. But on a more positive note, I turned 26 on March 4th so that’s exciting. Anyways, I thought with my return, I’d try something new. I currently have two work-in-progress one shots that I’ve been stuck on so I’m setting them aside for now. I hope you enjoy this.

Note: Y/M/N = Your mom’s name // Y/D/N = Your dad’s name

Also, just know that hate will NOT be tolerated and any negative comments will be deleted and you’ll be blocked. If you’re anti-LGBTQ+, I don’t know what you’re doing here anyway following a bisexual writer so…just so ya know…keep all nasty comments to yourself.

Was it bad to fall in love so easily? Tara always found herself in trouble because of that so she’d always felt it was. She’d had her heart broken so many times, lost so many that maybe it was best for her to be alone. At least for a little while. She’d made peace with it by now, keeping herself busy by going on more runs, taking more shifts at the gate, and any other small tasks that needed to be done.

“Hey, I’m here to relieve you,” Rosita declared as she climbed up to the top of the fence to stand beside Tara, “Maybe now you can go relax. I’m tired just watching you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Tara replied, “Just…trying to keep busy, ya know? No big deal.”

“I get it,” Rosita said, “I just think you should maybe slow down a little bit. You don’t wanna overwork yourself. No one would hold it against you.”

Before Tara could argue further, she was interrupted by Michonne, who was emerging from the woods and making her presence known so Eugene could open up the gate. She had a small group with her, though Tara couldn’t make out the details on who they were. But it appeared to be an older couple and a young woman with them. Tara, completely ignoring her friend’s advice, climbed down to meet Michonne.

“What’s going on?” Tara inquired as Michonne stepped through the gate, “New people?”

Michonne nodded, “This is Y/N and these are her parents, Y/M/N and Y/D/N. Y/N was fighting off walkers practically on her own. They needed proper shelter here.”

Tara turned to meet your gaze and her words caught in her throat at first. Seeing how beautiful you were even slightly hidden under blood stains was almost overwhelming at first. But she had to stop herself. No, she remembered it was a bad thing to fall so easily. You hadn’t even spoken to her yet. She couldn’t get caught up in a pretty face.

“All on your own?” Tara finally managed, “Impressive. You must be exhausted.”

“Anything for my mom and dad,” you replied with a small chuckle. You stuffed your hands in your pants pockets and let out a heavy sigh, “But yeah, I’m pretty tired. We’re lucky that Michonne found us. I don’t know how much longer we would’ve made it out there. I’m pretty impressed myself actually. Never thought I’d see…I dunno…civilization again.”

“Neither did I,” Tara said, “But there’s plenty of other communities just like us. World’s getting a little bigger these days.”

You nodded in agreement as your parents walked off with Michonne. You pointed at the three of them as you started to follow, “I should get going, get cleaned up and sleep for once. What’d you say your name was?”

“I didn’t, it’s Tara,” she replied.

You grinned as you gave Tara a playful salute, “Well, I’ll see you around, Tara.”

* * *

The next few days, Tara tried her best to keep things light with you because the more time you spent together, the harder it would soon become to suppress any feelings. But you were certainly not making it easy with the way you smiled at her, the way you touched her arm while you spoke. Sometimes, she just wasn’t able to avoid you as the two of you had guard duty together. You were quiet for a while which was a relief for Tara but she also couldn’t stand the silence between the two of you.

“So…” Tara said, finally breaking the silence. She felt your eyes on her but she wouldn’t turn to face you, “You never told me where you were from before all this.”

“I was from Connecticut,” you said, “I was living with my boyfriend at the time. We got separated in the very beginning and I haven’t seen him since. I have no idea if he’s alive.”

Tara’s heart sank at the mention of a boyfriend. It was probably better this way anyway. Tara couldn’t risk your life just because she caught feelings too quickly. She sighed and gave you a small nod, “I’m sorry to hear that. I just lost my girlfriend. I won’t get into details but…it’s been hard.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss,” you replied, “It doesn’t get easier even when all you know is death now, ya know?”

Tara nodded in agreement, “Yeah. It makes me…hesitant to let anyone in again. Denise…she wasn’t the first girlfriend I lost. It just…feels like maybe I’m meant to be alone.”

“Oh Tara,” you mumbled. You placed your hand on her shoulder and lightly squeezed, running your hand back and forth across her upper back. Your touch made her shiver but she tried her best to hide it, “Tara, no one’s meant to be alone. Humans are social creatures. We need other people. I think the world has shown us that lately. We can’t make it alone.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Tara said, leaning slightly into your arms, “It’s just scary, ya know?”

“I know,” you said, “You’ll get through this. It looks like you have a great family here. And you can always talk to me too. As long as you don’t keep avoiding me like you have been.”

“Y/N, I haven’t been avoiding you,” Tara replied nervously, “I’ve just been…busy.”

“Look, I’m not stupid,” you said sternly, “I’m not sure what I did but I hope one day, you can feel comfortable enough to talk to me.”

“It’s nothing you did,” Tara said, “It’s…it’s complicated.”

“No, I get it,” you said, “You just said you’re afraid to let people in again. But I can promise you that I’m not going anywhere. I’ve survived things that should’ve killed me but I’m still here. You don’t have to be afraid of losing me.”

Tara stared at you for a long time, her eyes drifting down to your mouth, your tongue darting across your lips. You smiled warmly at her, reaching up to hold her face in your hands, “We’re gonna be fine, right?”

“Yeah,” Tara said in a whisper. Her body moved involuntarily and she acted before she could even think it, leaning in to kiss your lips. You surprised her by welcoming her kiss, your hands moving to the back of her neck. It felt like such a relief to kiss you, to feel her touch, like she was starving for it. The relief didn’t last long though. As her head began to clear, she started thinking about what she’d just done and she quickly pulled away from you, “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to…I…”

“Hey,” you said softly after a moment of stunned silence, “It’s okay, Tara. I’m not upset I actually-”

Tara scrambled down the ladder, “I have to go. I’ll send someone to relieve me. But I’ve gotta go.”

“Tara, wait!” you called out after her. You wanted to run after her but you couldn’t leave the fence without someone watching it so all you could do was watch Tara walk off in a huff, “Tara! Fuck.”

* * *

After asking Rosita to take over with guard duty for the rest of her shift, Tara stayed hidden in her house for the rest of the afternoon. Rosita had asked what happened but Tara couldn’t bring herself to explain it. She forced a kiss on a girl who obviously wasn’t interested in women. Everything about that was wrong and she couldn’t stand to face you for that.

Hours had passed with Tara lying on her couch staring at the ceiling when there was a knock on her door, “Tara, open up. It’s me, Y/N. I know you’re home.”

“Y/N, I don’t feel like talking,” Tara groaned. The door swung open and you stood at the doorway, pointing at Tara with a grimace on your face. Tara sat up, eyes wide in shock, “Y/N! What the hell?”

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this,” you snapped as you slammed the door behind you. Approaching the couch, you jabbed Tara in the shoulder, “Now, why would you avoid me, then kiss me, then run away from me? You know you’re giving me whiplash!”

“You know why I’ve been avoiding you?” Tara grumbled, “Because I like you, okay?! But you’re not into women and then I kissed you anyway even though I knew that. How are you not upset?”

“Maybe you should’ve let me finish my sentence earlier before you ran off,” you snarled, “Because I was going to say that I wasn’t upset. I actually liked it. I liked kissing you.”

“But you’re-”

“I said I had a boyfriend, I never said I was straight,” you interjected, “I had a girlfriend until about a month or so ago. And I was like you! I thought I’d never find another person that I could feel that way for ever again. And then I walked through those gates and saw you and everything changed for me. You know how hard it was on me being avoided by you? I had to switch things around just to end up on guard duty with you.”

“Wow,” Tara sighed, “I had no idea.”

“Because you weren’t letting yourself,” you said. You let out a sigh and you flopped down on the couch by Tara’s feet, patting her legs, “I’m sorry for the rant, Tara. I’ve just never met anyone so frustrating and stubborn. But I really liked that kiss.”

“Yeah?” Tara said, tucking her legs under her body and scooting closer to you. You moved with her until there were only inches separating you, “Well, I’m sorry for cutting it short then.”

You tucked her dark hair behind her ear, biting your bottom lip, “We could always pick it up where we left off.”

Before Tara could make the move, you gripped onto her neck and pulled her in for another kiss. Tara felt you smile against her lips before you pulled away, letting out a giggle, “I really like you a lot, Tara. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Tara’s cheeks ached with how much she was smiling as she rested her hands on your hips, “I don’t intend on letting anything ever happen to you.”

As you pulled her back in for another kiss, this one more aggressive than the last, Tara felt like the fear in her was melting away. She never thought she’d be able to open up to another person and then there you were, almost like you were sent here to show her she didn’t have to be afraid. Maybe falling fast wasn’t such a bad thing sometimes.

HEY GUYS I’M GLAD TO BE BACK. I hope this turned out okay. Love you guys so much. Maybe I’ll update one of my stories next? What do you guys think?

#The Walking Dead #TWD #The Walking Dead fanfiction #TWD fanfiction #TWD One shot #Tara Chambler

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bookishbarnowl · 3 years

Text

“I’m a person!”

The intimidation technique didn’t seem to phase the cocky teen. He smirked. “Techno, you gotta show me what’s wrong,” he goaded.

Break his leg, the AI suggested, but he blocked that out. He refused to play charades with the pint-sized terror.

In a post-apocalyptic world where the remaining survivors live in secure underground bases, Techno is a metal heart among dozens of warm, beating ones. That doesn't stop him from embracing his humanity, but it also means he has a few weaknesses others don't.

Warnings: Mild dehumanization (resolved)

Relationships: Technoblade & Tommy, Techno & Tommy & Wilbur

Word Count: 1,849

Ao3 Link: Here

Here’s a Wingdings translator if anyone wants to follow what Techno’s saying, but don’t feel like you need to, it’s not really plot relevant. Almost all of it is him threatening Tommy. :)

https://lingojam.com/WingdingsTranslator

Technoblade stormed down the hallway, mechanical limbs pounding against the floor of the bunker with resounding clangs as he stopped bothering to lighten his footsteps. Stealth was not a priority right now. He cranked up the volume on his voicebox, uncaring that no one could currently understand him. He was sick and tired of his Tommy’s ridiculous pranks, and changing his language settings while he was recharging was the last straw.

“❄︎□︎❍︎��︎⍓︎!” he roared in his default android language, slamming doors open and shut as he searched. Other personnel quickly caught on to his current temper and promptly got out of his way, retreating to the parts of the base he’d already searched.

Yeah, faster, the broken AI jeered in the back of his head, spurring him on. He growled and tried to ignore it, but picked up the pace anyway. He was done.

He finally found Tommy and Wilbur in the latter’s bedroom, playing a video game together and bickering happily. He flung open the door with a bang and grabbed the remote, turning the TV off as they both yelled indignantly.

“✡︎□︎◆︎🕯︎♎︎ ♌︎♏︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ♐︎♓︎⌧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ❒︎♓︎♑︎♒︎⧫︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎,” he snapped at Tommy, positively radiating anger.

The intimidation technique didn’t seem to phase the cocky teen. He smirked. “Aww, Techno, I can’t understand you. What exactly is the matter?”

“👍︎◆︎⧫︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎❒︎♋︎◻︎📪︎ ♓︎⧫︎🕯︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♐︎◆︎■︎■︎⍓︎📬︎ ✋︎🕯︎❍︎ ♎︎□︎■︎♏︎.” he replied, his face darkening. He wasn’t going to negotiate.

“Techno, you gotta show me what’s wrong,” Tommy goaded.

Break his leg, the AI suggested, but he blocked it out.

“✋︎ ❒︎♏︎♐︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ 🕈︎♏︎ ♌︎□︎⧫︎♒︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎🕯︎⬧︎ ⬥︎❒︎□︎■︎♑︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ♑︎□︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♍︎♒︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ♌︎♋︎♍︎🙵 □︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎◻︎ ❍︎♏︎-” he broke off, gritting his teeth and distractedly registering the AI trying to convince him to commit a war crime. He crossed his arms, resentment and fury pooling in his stomach. He was not playing charades with the pint-sized terror.

Wilbur was looking back and forth between the two of them, observant enough to piece together the situation. He was also partially fluent in the android tongue, enough to probably pick up one or two keywords in Techno’s rapid-fire speech.

“⬧︎ ◻︎ ♏︎ ♏︎ ♍︎ ♒︎ ⬧︎ ⧫︎ ◆︎ ♍︎ 🙵,” Techno enunciated clearly in his direction, slow enough that he could pick it up, then switched back into his regular talking speed. “❄︎□︎❍︎❍︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♋︎❍︎ ♎︎♏︎♋︎♎︎ ⬧︎♏︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ❄︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ♓︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎ ♐︎◆︎■︎■︎⍓︎.”

“Voice… trapped? Stuck?” Wilbur translated. “And something about death? I heard the word Tommy…” He rounded on his brother. “What did you do to him?”

Tommy was trying hard not to laugh, which only made Techno feel worse. “It was just a prank,” he defended. “Isn’t it hilarious? Go on, try and say something else,” he prodded.

Techno didn’t move, mouth stubbornly shut. Some of his anger was eating away into humiliation, which he was sure was the worst emotion in existence. He quashed the feeling and tried to get back to being infuriated.

Oooh, someone’s embarrassed, the AI mocked. Scared, even? Ah, and there’s the helplessness.

Sometimes the voice cut deeper than it had any right to. Techno growled again, the sound rumbling menacingly through his entire body as he determinedly refused to dwell on those statements. He fixed Tommy with a glare that would have most people in the base quivering in fear, but he had the audacity to grin back at him.

“Techno, you’ve gotta ask me for help if you want it fixed,” he taunted, standing up with a hand on his hip as Wilbur looked torn. “The great Blade’s gotta admit he needs help.”

That was the tipping point for Techno.

“G̵͙͊ẽ̷̮t̵̜̽ ̶̬̆r̵͉͐i̸ḑ̴͂ ̶̧̂ō̷̜f̷ ̵̼͘t̷̑h̶̽is ̵͎̾n̸̠͑o̷̦͘w̸̠̃,” he snarled, brute forcing his way through the sloppily installed language blockers in sheer rage. His eyes flashed red and the claws stored in his finger joints slid out against his will, the voice in his head cackling as oily tears started leaking from his eye sockets.

Wilbur’s eyes widened and he jumped up, grabbing a screwdriver off of the desk and cautiously approaching the crying android. Tommy looked taken aback, his expression dissolving into something more sheepish.

“⚐︎ ■︎ ❍︎ ⍓︎ ♌︎ ♋︎ ♍︎ 🙵,” Techno instructed Wilbur carefully, directing him to the detachable panel on his lower back. He closed his eyes and tried to get a grip on his emotions, retracting his claws and silencing his snickering commentator.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Tommy sputtered, backpedaling.

“Then get over here and fix it,” Wilbur told him severely. The teen hung his head and came over to help Wilbur get the panel off, revealing the computer screen embedded into the metal there that Tommy had used to hack into Techno.

Techno shivered as he felt the two of them start going through the code looking for Tommy’s software, exceptionally conscious that they literally had his entire being at their fingertips. A few malicious clicks, and he could be altered in any number of ways.

Phil had tried to help him update the security on his data so things like that wouldn’t be possible, but his system seemed to vehemently reject any permanent alterations to his code and always did a system reboot afterwards to purge the new protections. He suspected the busted AI he shared a headspace with was behind it. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to care about short-term add-ons like the one Tommy had undoubtedly used.

He trusted both of them. He did, and no amount of pranks would change that. If he didn’t they wouldn’t be behind him right now, painstakingly removing the last traces of the language blocker. But sometimes they went too far. He felt used and taken advantage of. And that was not okay with him.

As soon as they got his back panel reattached, he left, ignoring their worried questions about if he was okay or not. He needed some time alone, and there was only one place no one would want to follow him.

He made his way to the airlock and grabbed a pack, slinging it over his shoulders and grabbing a blaster off the rack on the wall. Pulling a shield down over his face, he punched his code into the computer by the exit and signed himself out, then allowed the airlock to seal behind him.

The huge door slid open with a hiss in front of him, letting him out into the wasteland. The face shield protected him from the dust particles the inexhaustible wind dragged across every surface, and his metal body meant he didn’t have to deal with an oxygen tank or protective suit like the rest of the residents in the base. He scanned the area around the base with a keen eye, clipped his blaster to his hip, and set off into the desert.

He didn’t go far, barely beyond the next hill, but it was enough to make him feel like he was the only one in the world, which was what he wanted.

Lonely, lonely, lonely, the AI chanted in his head, and he pushed it away. Solitude helped him think.

But his peace didn’t last very long. The sound of clumsy footsteps stumbling through the dirt reached his ears, and he bowed his head and internally groaned. Someone had come after him, and it sure didn’t sound like Phil. A few more seconds of waiting would tell him which of the two less tolerable options he’d gotten. He considered running farther away, certain he could outdistance whichever it was, but if it was Tommy he’d just doggedly follow. And Wilbur would feel hurt. So he stayed put.

Leave him behind, the voice commanded. Shut up, he told it.

Sure enough, a moment later Tommy all but tripped over the crest of the hill and joined him at the bottom with a little help from gravity, breathing hard through the oxygen mask and making a vain attempt to brush the sheen of sweat off a brow covered by his helmet.

“These suits are so awkward to walk in,” he started, voice coming through the speakers in the aforementioned suit with a slightly tinny distortion. It was obviously an attempt to break the ice, though a pretty terrible one since Techno had no need for the bulky garments. He took the bait anyway, might as well get this over with.

“You were still pigheaded enough to come after me in one,” he replied.

“Well, uh, Wilbur put me up to it, y’know, and Big Man TommyInnit’s never one to back down from a challenge, eh?”

“Did you at least sign out a firearm before you left?”

“Nah. Who’s gonna mess with these guns?” he cracked, flexing non-existent arm muscles. Not that you could tell through the suit. The thick fabric made even someone like Phil, one of their best scouts, look like they’d rolled in marshmallows. The corner of Techno’s lip twitched in spite of himself.

Heh, Lonely Man thinks the Stupid Child is funny- He shoved it back again. Get some more creative insults, he thought.

“If you get jumped by a monster I will laugh at your corpse,” he warned.

“You wouldn’t, you love me too much,” Tommy sniggered, punching his shoulder.

“You’re right, I do,” he responded, unexpectedly serious.

The change in mood was not lost on Tommy, and his laugh quieted. “I love you too, man,” he returned. “I’m, um, really sorry about earlier. That was too far.”

“It was,” Techno agreed noncommittally.

“I shouldn’t mess with your code.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I’m not going to stop playing pranks on you.”

He sighed. “I knew my expectations were too high.”

“But I won’t hack you again.”

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the apology. “Messin' with living code is a serious invasion of privacy.”

“Yeah,” Tommy whispered, guilt heavy on his tone. “But I wouldn’t hurt you, you know that right?”

“Of course I do,” he reassured him. He was rarely the one to initiate physical contact, but this time he made an exception, leaning over for a one-armed hug. Tommy leaned into him, but his personality wouldn’t let the silence continue for long.

“So whaddya say we go back and make Wilbur wish he’d never sent me out to reunite the dream duo?” he blurted, grin wide and looking like it had never left.

Techno didn’t bother hiding the upward quirk of his lip this time. “Let’s go beat up a nerd.”

#mcyt #dsmp #fanfic #technoblade #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #hurt/comfort #family dynamics #mobpocalypse au #first of two fics in this au #also on ao3

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

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The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 13: SNAFU

Characters: Captain Syverson, various original minor/supporting characters.

Summary: Sy has some time to think about his past, present, and future while roughing it in the Virginia wilderness which leads him to a revelation about what he really wants…but is it too late?

Need to start from the beginning? Miss an update because Tumblr? Click me!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Mild language, mature themes, military and weapon terminology, discussion, and use. (For those who don’t know, SNAFU is a term coined in the military. It’s an acronym for “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.” And since this is from Sy’s perspective, I thought a military term, as opposed to a therapy term would be appropriate.)

Author’s Note: Despite this being the longest chapter, clocking in at almost 5k, it was one of the easiest to write, and came the quickest. I love writing from Sy’s perspective, and the pure love he has for Shane. I’m hoping to be able to write a bit more of his POV before the story is complete. We’ll see. I apologize if it seems like one long rant about Sy’s feelings…I guess that’s what it is, with various activities peppered in. He can be a sensitive guy, and I wanted to show that.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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@bloodyinspiredfuck

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@geekycanuck (Better late than never, huh?!)

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

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Sy was no whimp. That much was certain. Missouri winters had toughened him up more than most men in his battalion and most of the participants in the training he was currently undertaking.

But it was more than that. Sy was uniquely prepared for the elements. He remembered a particularly harsh December night during Christmas break, before he joined the service when he was home alone and had to let the dog out. Fool that he was, he wore no shoes. Greater fool, he'd allowed the door to the back yard to close…and unfortunately, it had a tendency to lock. Which it did. He tried fruitlessly for a while to break back in, but being without a cell phone, he knew he'd have to walk a good distance for help with the lock.

He slipped out the gate and started up to the road, to follow it to his grandparents a few miles away. The county road wasn't the best kind for walking, particularly barefoot in the late fall, but his feet were soon too numb to feel the gravel and whatever else was lacerating the soles of his feet. After about an hour, he made it there, shivering, knocking frantically and waking his frail old grandparents up to rescue him from his own negligence. He'd regret that until the day he died. Not that they were angry about it. They shrugged it off. His grandma cleaned the blood and dirt from his feet and bandaged the shallowed abrasions. They didn't look too bad, considering the area they lived in and the trash that could have been waiting to carve him up. Then she set about cleaning up Sy's messy footprints from her normally immaculate floor. Grandpa looked all over for their spare keys to Sy's and his mom's house, and finally found them. He lent him a pair of shoes, drove him back home, and let him in the house. After that, Sy found himself eager to spend time outdoors during colder weather. As if determined to build up a tolerance to it in case he ever found himself in such a situation again.

Now, despite the time of year being only late August, it was unseasonably cool, especially at night, as if Christmas was right around the corner, and Sy was wishing more and more that he had someone to cuddle with during the nights he'd be doing cross country training here at the beautiful Shenandoah National Park. He had packed only the essentials for the expedition, a mess kit, bed roll, canteen, modest rations, first aid supplies, et cetera, plus a rope and a tarp for building a shelter. On his person, he had a compass, a topographical map of the park with checkpoints indicated, waterproof, strike-anywhere matches, a hunting knife, a tactical knife, an M17 pistol, and three .9mm clips. He was also given a flare gun to use in case he got stuck for any reason and needed extraction.

On his first night in the wilderness, he'd taken a lot of time falling asleep. Thinking.

He thought about his last week at home. He wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were doing with Aika. Shane had offered to watch her, and he considered it. He had appreciated her eagerness to help after her…less than enthusiastic response to hearing about this trip. But he decided since Aika had a close relationship already with Fred and Caroline, and she was still getting to know Shane, they'd better be the ones to take her. She understood, and had offered the second reason that since she worked so much, she wouldn't be able to give her the kind of attention she was used to. That had made a lot of sense. He felt like kind of a bad dog parent for not thinking of it, himself.

He thought about the week he'd been here already at the compound. His first day filling out paperwork, he was asked for an emergency contact. He was used to putting his mom…but she wasn't in the best of health, herself. He had nobody. Nobody but Shane. He put her down, instead of his mom. He thought about the seminars on company approved methods of subduing and detaining targets and combatants. He should have taught Shane some self-defense moves before he left. She could handle herself, and she'd proven so, but still. A refresher, or an advancement on one's skills was always a good idea. But he was sure she'd be fine. He thought about her the most in the torturous policy and procedure lecture. What he wouldn't'a given to have her here with him. She would have made everything fun. And she would have been a way better study partner than Keith. Keith, a Navy vet from Little Rock was a good guy…he just…didn't get Sy's jokes. He was a very literal kind of thinker, and it took extra effort for Sy to communicate with folks like that.

Shane, though…he and Shane wouldn't have gotten too much done, study-wise. They would have been…distracted.

As he hiked along the trails to his first checkpoint, he breathed in the clean, crisp air and stopped at the odd overlook here and there. The park was nestled on the outer edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and they were too gorgeous not to appreciate while he was here. He found himself…uniquely emotional. He didn't feel lonely often, but since he'd met Shane, he'd hardly gone two days without seeing her, even if it was for just an hour. She'd love all of this. She'd probably want a tent, and coffee in the mornings, so they wouldn't be able to travel quite as light, but they'd make it work. Maybe one day they'd take a trip like this. Just for fun. No checkpoints. No deadlines. No semi-automatic weapons…well, honestly, he'd probably still bring a gun, anyway. You never did know about people these days, he thought. Of course, that's probably what people think of me carrying a pistol, he also thought…anyway, he was almost to the checkpoint.

Said checkpoint was a big tent, like the ones they sold fireworks out of leading up to Fourth of July. Inside there was a single lane shooting range set up down one half of the tent. On the other half, there were stations set up with dismantled weapons that you had to assemble in a certain amount of time. Someone had beaten him to the range, so he started with the guns. No problems whatsoever. He was familiar more or less with all of the models, or some version of them. When the previous participant, a small blonde woman, had finished on the range, Sy stepped up to the counter.

The attendant reset the target for Sy so he could do a close range shot, then again for mid and long range ones. He shot well, although he still wasn't used to the lighter weight of the SIG Sauer M17s the armed forces switched to back in 2017. They'd offered him an M18 at the compound, but he favored the heaver pistol, instead. Maybe the M18 was more packable, but Sy just didn't feel right firing a weapon that felt like a feather in his hand. If it was up to him, he'd take a Colt Python .357 Magnum Revolver. That, however, was more than just a question of how the firearm felt in his hand. Being out in the wilderness like this made him think back to how it must have been before these lands became civilized and gentrified. Back to the days of the cowboy, Wyatt Earp and the OK Corral. Back when it was just the wild and free land he could pretend it was now. He thanked the attendant, who was writing his name on his targets to take back to the compound along with his graded weapon assembly timesheets, and then was back on his way.

There was an eerie beauty about this unsullied land, he thought, as the dusk fell the second night of the excursion and he began setting up his camp about halfway between the first and second checkpoints, by his estimation. With his fire built and his shelter up, Sy took out some of his rations, cured meat, hard cheese, and some walnuts, and had a light supper before cleaning his gun and turning in while the ground still held some heat from the waning sun, wishing again as the cold set in that his woman was there to warm him.

His sleep was fitful. And he awoke before dawn, from dreams he couldn't remember but which still left him feeling empty. They must have been about her. He was starting to feel regret. The last time he'd seen Shane, he'd said some things that he meant to be selfless. But he didn't mean them. He meant the parts about loving her, of course. But the last thing he wanted was to come home and find her moved on with someone else. He couldn't stand to think about it. As he walked into the next checkpoint area, the range was already set up for close range firing. He riddled the target with .9mm holes and could barely wait until the attendant got the fresh sheet set to mid range before he began firing.

"How about you let me fully clear the lane before you start on the long range target, okay, Syverson?"

"Sorry, man. I'm a little…on edge today. Won't happen again."

The short, sandy-haired buck trotted out to replace the riddled sheet with one more for the long range leg, pulled it down and lacked it in to long range position, then hoofed it back up to safety, sensing the captain's impatience. Sy shot cleanly, but with cold anger, as if the silhouette on the page out there was trying to take Shane away from him. He put two square in the chest, and two in the head without hesitating.

"Man, I've never seen a long range shoot like that! What's the deal, you pissed at an ex, or something?" Sy checked the man's lapel for a name tag.

"Not exactly, Mister…Daniels."

"Call me Jack." they shook hands, and Sy chuckled, questioning.

"I'm Sy. You're name is Jack…Daniels?"

"Yes sir. No relation to the Lynchburg Daniels, unfortunately. Momma wanted to name me after her granddad, and my old man, well, he had no problem with it given his affinity for the spirit."

"A wise man, your dad. Some of my best nights have included Tennessee Number 7." He didn't elaborate, but he was getting very specific flashbacks of drinking games in his kitchen with Shane. And he was gonna have to shake it off before the weapons assembly drill, or else he'd end up putting together an assault rifle backward.

He made it through without any trouble, thank the good Lord. But that didn't mean that his mind wasn't still reeling. He was thinking of Shane and the possibility that she was being courted by Chris Evans look-alikes and young Harrison Ford doppelgangers, and it was making him furious. He was pretty sure that she was about as interested in taking a break as he was, but he couldn't help himself from making the offer under the circumstances. He kicked himself as he made his camp for the evening, not very far away from the third checkpoint, but too far away to get there by dusk when the daily deadline was. He was a shoe in to get there first in the morning, though, if he was reading his map correctly, and he was damn good at maps, if he did say so, himself. And who would bitch at him for bragging out here, anyway. The odd cricket or squirrel? He didn't think so.

It was colder tonight, and he was thankful that he thought to boil some water for his canteen and put it at his feet. He curled his surly, burly body up under the layers of blanket and thermal sheeting. He was almost warm enough…but he still needed something.

His sleep was plagued by strange dreams that he unfortunately remembered tonight. The scene began with Shane in a bright pink dress and matching gloves, dripping with diamonds, like Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She looked so glamourous and beautiful, but she was getting passed from man to man to the tune of Madonna's Material Girl, which was not the correct song, and he knew it in that moment, but couldn't correct anyone, because it was all playing out on the big screen TV in his basement. When he realized this he turned it off and noticed a familiar head of hair on his lap and stroked it, about to say "Hey, sunshine." until the figure sat up and looked at him, and it was Jordan, the PTA, batting his eyelashes at him, and asking, "You ready for bed, babe?" The therapist leaned in for a kiss, but Sy leaned back, tumbled off the couch and landed on those crutches again, standing right in front of Shane in the lobby of the therapy clinic.

"Hey sunshine." he said warmly. She looked confused.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well…I should hope so…it's me. Sy."

"Sorry, not ringing any bells. I'll look you us and see who you're with, though. Usually Heather tells the new patients which therapists they get their first day. What's your last name?"

He felt like he was getting kicked in the gut with a soccer cleat worn by the Incredible Hulk. He answered with defeat.

"Sy's a nickname. Last name Syverson, first name Logan."

"Oh, there you are. Looks like Cory gets to take care of you today. I'll let him know you're ready. As long as you're all done with the secretaries?"

Sy nodded and collapsed to the floor blacking out. When he woke up, his neighbor, Mr. Stevens was standing over him, insisting it was time for him to get ready. He kept handing him things to put on. Pants, a nice shirt, a vest, a light blue tie, a jacket, nice shoes. The whole enchilada. They got out of Fred's car at a little white chapel outside which, his neighbor pinned a small boutonniere of powder blue hydrangeas to his lapel and walked in with him.

"Come on, boy. She'll be here any minute."

Sy was nervous, but excited. He was obviously marrying Shane. But he couldn't remember proposing, or planning the wedding, or an engagement party, or bachelor party, or rehearsal dinner, nothing…but none of that mattered. He heard the first notes of "Here Comes the Bride" and everything faded away, anyway. He began to cry as she got closer. She was moving slowly, he presumed out of nerves. Or perhaps she'd chosen the wrong shoes. It didn't matter. They'd dance the night away barefoot, and make love until dawn. He wished her veil wasn't so thick. He couldn't even see her bouquet. Let alone her stunning face, no doubt smiling as she cried with him. When she stood in front of him, he broke protocol and removed the veil to find Aika in a white dress on her hind legs panting, tongue lolling happily to one side.

"You may now kiss the bride." said the wizened old minister, causing Aika to knock Sy to the ground licking his face until he blacked out again.

This time, he woke to the chirping birds of a mountain morning in Virginia. His campfire long snuffed, his canteen now chilled as his blood. Those dreams…those were traumatic. He didn't want Shane to see anyone else. The thought of seeing anyone else himself repulsed him. Thinking about what his life would have been like if they'd never gotten to work together made him physically ill, and he was terrified that if he didn't act on these feelings, he'd end up with no one but his dog. Why did it take a trip out of state and all these nights of solitude to figure this out? She was all that mattered. He could dig ditches, flip burgers, get a teaching certificate and coach, or teach gym. Whatever. He also liked history. He could think of something if the people at Secure Source couldn't keep him in consistent work. It would be fine. He understood his purpose now. And it wasn't just to do his duty to his country. He'd served proudly for years. He had a new purpose now. And it was her.

He packed up camp in what he was sure was record time and hauled ass to the last checkpoint where the brass should be waiting for finishers. He was the first one there this morning, but he wasn't sure if anyone had made it yesterday. He didn't try to make small talk with the attendant today. He was on a legit mission to get back to his locker at the compound, turn his phone on and call Shane. He fired four shots, but only made two holes on the long range target. One in the chest, one in the head. The attendant was impressed, giving the highest possible grade.

"Man, Syverson. I pray I never do anything to piss you off."

Sy nodded in acknowledgement and went on to the weapons drill booths. Today, there were distracting sound effects playing on a speaker in each booth, and each one was different. Sy ignored the cacophony, pretending it was white noise, and focused on the puzzles at hand, breezing through the new weapons in better time than ever.

As his cards were being scored and turned in for review to Jane Freitag, the administrator over acquisitions and training, he got himself a cup of coffee and a doughnut, and just observed her, tactically, and objectively. She was a redhead with sharp features, freckles, and light eyes. She was slender, but dressed simply, and modestly. The consummate professional. Sy had honestly barely registered her gender, and it wasn't because she wasn't beautiful. She was. Full red lips, lashes for days, and although her clothes didn't exactly accentuate her shape, he could tell he had a decent figure. He just wasn't interested. And would never be interested in anyone but Shane again. Miss Freitag startled him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Syverson." She beckoned him to the entrance to the tent near her vehicle.

He picked up his gear and coffee and trotted over to her.

"Ma'am?"

"Jane, please."

"Sy, then, for me. What's next on the agenda?"

"Well, you're the first participant across the finish line. I'm very impressed. It seems as though you almost could have finished last night."

"Yes, ma'am, if I hadn't taken a little extra time for sightseeing, I might have made it here by dusk last night. I just haven't had the hustle I had today."

"Well, that's nothing to sneer at. Normally, the deprivation of food, regular water supply, and proper sleeping conditions make participants sloppy. The opposite seems to be true for you, as you've done better at each checkpoint than the one before. Now, let's get back to the compound and get you a proper meal, and a shower, and talk about what's next for you here at Secure Source."

"Yeah, about that. Before we go much further with this, I need to know one thing."

"What's that?"

"I need to know if you'll be able to find me work near enough to St. Robert and the base there so that I don't have to relocate and travel all the time. I've got a life there, and…it's not something I can just pick up and move on a whim, and I don't want to be away for weeks and months at a time. I know I made this trip work, but I'm praying it didn't already ruin everything." He wasn't going to waste time mincing words. He needed to know right away or else this wouldn't work.

"Sy, with your talent…they're gonna want to put you on the high profile cases. Celebrity security. Concerts, movie premiers, things like that. You'll be wasted as a small town rent-a-cop." there was true concern in her face and her voice as she drove them out of the park and onto the main road to Secure Source's compound.

"If there's a need I can fill, how is that a waste? There's lots of talent in this program. Just 'cause I finished first don't mean I did it the best. And I'm sure most of these folks have the people skills to take them farther'n me. And if you wanna gimme first crack at those, I'll hear ya out. Just…let me reserve the right to turn down the out of town jobs. Especially if they're short notice. And if it takes me away from another security job, I want you to send me a replacement a few days in advance so I can meet 'em, train 'em, and introduce 'em around."

"Seems reasonable." Jane said.

"Well, alright, then. I think we got ourselves a deal. I'll shower up in the locker room real quick, then meet ya in the commissary for a sandwich so we can handle the particulars?"

"Sure, Sy." she agreed as they pulled into the parking structure.

They went their separate ways, Jane to her office, and Sy to the quartermaster to return his supplies and get the key to his locker. He practically danced there, he was so giddy to get to call Shane. He did need a quick shower first, though. Which he took, grabbing some shampoo and soap out of his travel bag. When he got back to his locker, towel around his waist, he replaced the products and grabbed his phone. He sat on the bench between the rows of lockers as it booted up.

When it did, it began alerting him as if it's life depended on it. Three text messages, three voicemails, … and twenty four missed calls. That was odd. Maybe a telemarketer had gotten his number.

He checked the texts first. One was a picture of Aika from Fred, his neighbor, the other two were from Shane…two days ago. The day he went into the park.

Hey, hope you have a great first day of Survivor: Virginia! Lol! Be safe! I love you!

OMG, nutty day today! I'm gonna be doing notes for hours! I'll text you in the morning! <3

And then nothing…he chuckled at Survivor: Virginia, but was a bit concerned. Maybe she'd decided not to waste time texting him if he wasn't going to respond? He didn't know. Maybe some of the calls or voicemails were from her. He'd check before calling.

One from his mom, one from the Stephen's house phone, and the rest were from Fort Wood Therapy. That was weird. He was discharged and didn't have any appointments…surely he wasn't missing any…Shane would have said something. He listened to the voicemails. The first one was from Heather.

"Hey, Sy, it's Heather, Shane's friend here at therapy. Hey, give me a call when you get this. Thanks."

Weird…the next one was from Susan, Shane's boss. In the same tone.

"Captain Syverson, it's Susan DeForrest here at Fort Wood Therapy Clinic. Please give us a call when you get this. Thank you."

Again, weird. The last one was Susan again and far less friendly and measured.

"Mr. Syverson. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you need to bring Shane back to work and stop screwing around. One or both of you is in serious trouble. Either you're being hot-lined for abduction or she's fired for not showing up for work. The choice will be hers." and the line went dead.

Sy felt his stomach twist into nauseated knots at Susan's words. Shane hadn't been to work. For how long? He had to call them. He didn't want to think about the horror that might have befallen Shane while he'd been away.

"Fort Wood Therapy Clinic, this is Heather, how may I help you?" Heather said, trying to hide the obvious worry beneath the cordial demeanor.

"Heather, it's Sy, what the hell's going on with Shane? What do you mean, she hasn't been to work, I don't…"

"Let me give you to Susan, Sy. I'm sorry." She added the last two words in a whisper. After a brief moment on hold, Susan picked up.

"So, Mr. Syverson. Finally decided to call us back?"

"Cut it out, Susan." He let her blatant ignorance of his rank slide in favor of getting to the point. "Tell me what's going on."

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. I knew letting her date a patient would come back to bite me. I should never have--"

"Shut up! This isn't about you, and it isn't because of you. And you had no right to tell Shane who she could and couldn't date, anyway. I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her. Thanks for calling me. I know your intentions weren't the best when you did, but ultimately, it worked out. I may not have found out otherwise, at least until… much later."

He hung up before she could respond. He had to talk to Jane about cutting his training short. This was all his fault. If he had just come to the realization of just how important, how vital Shane really was to him before he left…well he never would have gone in the first place. She was his life now. His world. His future, and his whole heart. Tears stung his eyes as he dressed to meet Jane in the commissary. She'd have to be okay with this. She'd have to understand.

As he got closer to the smell of fry oil, seasonings, and sizzling meat on a griddle, aromas that usually made his stomach grumble with hunger, he had to swallow back the bile that crept up his throat. He found her seated at a small round four-top, already eating a salad. He sat across from her, startling her from whatever she was reading on her phone, and again when she looked at his expression and complexion.

"Sy, what's wrong? You look downright green!"

"Listen, Jane, I'm going to have to leave training early." She scowled at him, but he was more concerned with the putrid smells of boiled egg and onion coming off her chef salad. He had to get this over with quick before he wretched in the middle of the mess hall.

"That's a big ask, Sy. Gonna have to have a reason."

"I just got a call that my girlfriend is missing. I need to go home and help find her."

"Oh…yeah, that's…that's some reason. I'm really sorry to hear that. Any leads so far?"

"No, I just got off the phone with her useless boss and all she told me was that she hasn't been to work since Monday and can't be reached on her phone. I have my suspicions, but I wanna talk to the authorities."

"Okay, well. Maybe when things calm down at home, we can set you up with some online courses like we do for our assets who need refreshers, but are on assignment. I'll approve that for you."

"Thanks," he said, gratefully, "I'm also wondering if the company has any…transportation solutions for me…of an immediate nature?"

"Man, what were your letters to Santa like as a child?"

"Oh, you know, a little red wagon, end of poverty, world peace…that kind of stuff." he grinned his most charming grin.

"Why am I not surprised? Okay, but you have to return the favor somehow, Sy."

"How about, one assignments of your choosing, no questions asked?"

"Hmmm, what about five assignments?"

"Three?" he countered.

"Done." they shook hands across the table. "I would have settled at two." she smirked.

"I would have done ten." he winked at her as he turned to retrieve his belongings from his bunk and locker. He had a plane…or perhaps a chopper to catch.

Up Next: Chapter 14: No Call No Show

#Sand Castle #netflix sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #sigh for sy

58 notes · View notes

fanficflaneuse · 4 years

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One Day - Part 5

A/N: Hello magical tumblr friends! I hope you’re all doing alright. So...we’ve reached the middle of this series! I can’t believe I work four chapters in a week. Goodness! I feel on fire right now. I hope you like it. What’s about to come is just plain, simple, absolute drama.

For this chapter, I drew a bit of inspiration of a series called The Arrangement by @fandomsfeelsandfanfics. It’s not plagiarism or anything, but I did have it in mind as I wrote. All of this to say you should check it out if you haven’t, it’s an amazing series and I’m waiting for an update lol.

Finally, thanks for all your love and support

Here we go:

Draco x reader (she/her pronouns) Word count: 2607 (oops...I did it again! (lol) I’m sorry it’s so long. I think this will be the longest chapter of the series). Summary: One day AU. Post-war. Since The Battle of Hogwarts, Draco and y/n meet one day a year.

Masterlist

3 May, 2002

“(Y/N), you cannot lock yourself in your library forever.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Hermione,” she said, her voice hoarse.

The brown-haired Gryffindor rolled her eyes, trying to be playful, but there was a hint of concern she couldn’t hide. (Y/N) had been working nonstop. Headmistress McGonagall had offered her a position at Hogwarts. Without a second thought, she quitted at the Ministry and now spent a lot of time in her library, revising every book on DADA and making her best to create a study plan that was challenging and fun. She was also writing again. (Y/N) felt her life was heading in an interesting direction.

“Listen, (Y/N/N), I love you. We all do,” Ginny said as she dragged (Y/N) to her room, Hermione trailing behind them, “And we support every single one of your choices. But you cannot keep waiting for Malfoy to appear at your doorway and magically revive what you had.”

“Besides, he’s bad news, (Y/N). You’ve seen what they write about him in the papers. Not someone a respectable Hogwarts professor, like yourself, should be associated with,” Hermione pointed out, using what they now called her ‘ministry voice’.

“He is a good –“

“We know, we know, love. We know he can be a good person. He is – or was? – our friend as well. Not as close as he was to you,” Ginny raised an eyebrow playfully at this, warranting an annoyed eyeroll from (Y/N), “But we did help save him from Azkaban, didn’t we? So yes, we know he can actually be a good person. You just can’t go around saving him forever, dear. Don’t you realize most of his friends have stopped talking to him because of his behaviour? Merlin! Even Parkinson and Zabini are friendlier to us now than he is.”

“He’s chosen a path, (Y/N/N). He’s not trying to change. And even if he was, he’s not here. It’s time for you to move on,” Hermione reasoned.

(Y/N) sighed. She missed Draco way too much. Sometimes she wondered if he missed her. He hadn’t contacted her in a while. No owls, no visits, no cuddles. It had started out small, a bit of extra drinking during the week, an increasing amount of partying. Then every time she saw him, Draco was nursing a drink. Then the visits started to spread out. He’d always have a party to attend, an invitation somewhere and some sort of alcohol running in his veins. His letters stopped coming shortly after. As she got busier, (Y/N) ceased reaching out for him, tired of his excuses and self-destructive behaviours. She started mourning their friendship and her love for him.

At that point, the infamous articles were already a thing. Draco’s drunken antics had warranted him the moniker of “enfant terrible” and his misadventures were fuel for Rita Skeeter’s sensationalist quill. He always made the front page for the worst of reasons. Everyone had tried to talk some sense into him, to no avail.

“I can’t move on from something that never happened,” she declared in defeat.

“Well, more reasons for you to put this gorgeous dress on and enjoy your date with Ernie,” Ginny pressed on as she threw a blue dress over her shoulder.

“We’ll be waiting for your every detail,” Hermione added as she started working on your hair.

Ernie McMillan asked (Y/N) out at least five times before she accepted. In the end, she did because of her friends’ insistence. Everyone agreed she needed to go out. (Y/N) hadn’t been on a date for such a long time, even she admitted to herself the idea sounded tempting. She wasn’t particularly attracted to Ernie (she wasn’t particularly attracted to anyone whose name wasn’t Draco Malfoy), but she found him very sweet and patient. As the day approached, (Y/N) was getting excited about it.

Then, just the day before her date, she was invited for tea at Malfoy Manor. The affair had been so nerve-wrecking that (Y/N) came back home and cried her eyes out. She spent all night in her library, curled up in a ball. That’s where Ginny and Hermione found her. She had puffy eyes and seemed tired. They didn’t need to think too hard to guess what was the reason for her sorrow. It had been the same for a couple of months now. That’s what made them push harder for her to go out.

As Ginny helped her with her makeup, (Y/N) could only think about her visit to Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. The only time she had been in their lavish mansion, she had been tortured and put in a cellar with her friends. As she stood in front of the gates, she felt her hands clammy and her whole body shaking. Every fibre of her being was begging her to turn around and run. She felt the tentacles of her fear and trauma engulfing her again, trying to drag her down, reduce her to tears and panic.

“Are you alright?” said a voice she’d recognize anywhere: Lucius Malfoy himself had come to greet her. She saw a lot of Draco in his father. The striking grey eyes were almost too painful to look at. Lucius’ eyes didn’t hold for her the same affection Draco’s did, but she could recognize a mixture of respect and also a bit of fear. Was he afraid of her? Or was that concern? Did she look that frightened?

“Yes, sir. I was just…”

“Remembering?” he offered, an apologetic expression settling on his aristocratic features.

(Y/N) nodded in response. She tried to smile at him.

“I am glad you could come, Miss (Y/L/N). My wife and I have not had the pleasure of your company since the trials. We never got the chance to thank you for everything you did for us,” he said, motioning her to walk with him.

They strolled through some beautiful gardens. The flowers were blooming and the peacocks showed their beautiful feathers. As they entered the house, (Y/N) felt shivers down her spine. She had to stop for a second and take a deep breath. Lucius waited for her patiently. The walked up the stairs and move through different halls.

“We well be having tea at our living quarters. Narcissa is recovering from that hippogriff virus. Fortunately, it is under control, but my wife is still very delicate and needs her rest,” he explained as he opened the door to the room.

Narcissa Malfoy greeted them. She was seating up on the bed, her back pressed to a mountain of fluffy pillows. She wore an embroidered nightgown and her silky bedspread covered her up to her waist. She was a vision; even in the comfort of her bed, Narcissa looked like a queen. Her whole demeanour, even her seemingly informal attire, made (Y/N) feel underdressed.

As soon as (Y/N) was close to the bed, Narcissa grabbed both of her hands affectionately. It took (Y/N) less than five minutes in front of that majestic woman to decide that even if Draco was physically a copy of Lucius, everything else was absolutely Narcissa: his mannerisms, his smile, his way with words.

“I am so happy to see you, (Y/N),” she said, offering her a smile so wide that reminded her of Draco.

As Lucius brought her a chair and left to fetch the tea, (Y/N) felt really out of place. It was not only the looming idea that she was intruding, but also the way in which such domesticity seemed so strange to her. Draco had told her about his life growing up, how he had a seemingly happy childhood, even if his parents were – to an extent – emotionally distant. The Manor was huge for him alone, but his parents dotted on him and cared for him. (Y/N) imagined that this scene, three people sitting close by in the middle of a huge room, was a constant in Draco’s childhood.

As minutes went by and both women engaged in small talk, (Y/N) let go the idea that Draco would barge through the door at any moment. She then concentrated in her current situation, trying to figure out why would they, of all people, invite her over for tea. Narcissa noticed this and pursed her lips.

“I am going to be direct with you, (Y/N). I know it must be very strange, our invitation, I mean. I do wish we had done it sooner, for I have a lot to thank you. The matter at hand, though, is not a joyous one,” she explained, carefully, “we are very worried for our son”.

(Y/N) gulped. She was about to respond when Lucius came back, balancing three cups and a teapot. As he made his way to them. He served the three cups with effortless elegance.

“I hope you like jasmine tea, Miss (Y/L/N) ,” he said as he offered her a cup.

“Yes, it is excellent,” she answered, trying to adopt a posher inflection in her voice.

Lucius and Narcissa shared a meaningful look. “I was just telling (Y/N) how we are worried about Draco,” she explained, almost as a though it was a nuisance.

“Worried?” Lucius scoffed dramatically, “I am not worried. If anything, I am mad and disappointed. He is tarnishing the family name with his stupidity.”

“He is worried,” Narcissa decided. Lucius sighed and nodded in response.

They talked for a while about how he had gotten into drinking. It had started with a glass of firewhiskey every other day, then he was drinking every night, going to bars and partying until very odd hours. The conversation flowed between Narcissa and (Y/N), with Lucius adding his somewhat scathing remarks. They talked about the articles in the Daily Prophet and the stupid moniker.

“I have not talked to him in a long time, Mrs. And Mr. Malfoy,” she said at some point. Her vision got a bit blurry with tears, but she was determined not to cry in front of them. She tried to blink them away to no avail. She looked away. Lucius took her cup from her trembling hands and Narcissa enveloped her in a hug. (Y/N) started crying on her shoulder.

“I wish there was something I could do. I tried. I really tried,” she sobbed.

(Y/N) felt really stupid for how she was behaving. But both Narcissa and Lucius were surprisingly nice about it.

“Dear, we did not invite you here to ask you to do something. We know if anyone has tried to help our son, it has been you. I was really sick, you know? As a matter of fact, I almost died. If you ever get that hippogriff virus, please do take it seriously. When I was delirious, only two things truly worried me, (Y/N): one was leaving Lucius behind and the other one was Draco. My son’s life is an utter chaos as it is. And I know my husband and I have a very big responsibility and a lot of blame for his bad decisions, but I also know the kind of person I gave birth to. And he is a good person. I know you saw something in him. Something good. And as I started getting a little better, my heart was suddenly set on one thing. I needed to know you. I needed to know that someone out there genuinely cares for my son and sees him for who he is, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) felt her heart heavy with longing. She took Narcissa’s hands. “I love your son,” she said and immediately felt her face getting hot, “a –as a friend, I mean. It’s no secret we haven’t talked much in the last year…but I still care for him. I think I will always care for him.”

Narcissa squeezed her hands and smiled at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

As Lucius was escorting (Y/N) out of the manor, they bumped into Draco himself. He could barely stand on his own. He reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glossy and an easy smile was set on his face. Lucius frowned. The sight, however, broke (Y/N)’s heart.

“Hellooooo, father,” he slurred.

“Draco, where were you?” Lucius countered, trying to be as patient as possible.

“Around,” Draco said.

“You have been around for three days now. Your mother was very worried.”

(Y/N) winced. Draco took notice of her. At first, he didn’t recognize her (or maybe he didn’t want to recognize her), once he was sure it was her, he tried to stand up a little straighter. He gave her what he thought was a charming smile, but his mind was so hazy it was actually pitiful.

“Hello, Dray,” (Y/N) whispered, trying to keep her emotions in check. As she said this, though, Draco lunged forward clumsily and gave her a hug that felt almost like he was slumping onto her. (Y/N) held him in place, almost collapsing under his weight.

“I’ve missed you so so so so so so so so so much, (Y/N/N). I promise I’ll write more. I miss you,” he said, covering her face with kisses. His breath also stank of alcohol. Although his words were a consolation, his deplorable state made her very sad.

“Behave, boy. I thought I had raised you better,” said Lucius in annoyance.

He grabbed Draco by his shirt and pushed him away from (Y/N). Uncoordinated as he was, he fell on his bum. He searched for (Y/N)’s face, teary eyed. As they made eye contact, (Y/N) was reminded of a very small child. She wanted to cradle him in her arms again and reassure him that everything was going to be alright. (Y/N) knew that wasn’t the best idea. Her thoughts were echoed by Lucius, who, as kindly as possible, asked her to leave.

(Y/N) kneeled in front of Draco, who looked at her with a bit of sorrow and a great deal of confusion. She kissed his cheek and he smiled.

“Take care, Draco,” she said very softly.

Just thinking about that now, as Ginny blended her eyeshadow, gave her enough reasons to want to apparate in Malfoy Manor. She knew her friends were right; she couldn’t save Draco forever. She couldn’t change him either.

As Hermione and Ginny pushed her in front of her mirror, (Y/N)’s heart was shattered. She looked beautiful. The dress fit perfectly. Her makeup was incredible and her hair was twisted in a delicate braid. Somehow, even like that, she felt like hiding herself under her bedspread. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her doorbell.

Ernie had arrived.

…

“I can’t believe I’m going out with a published author,” Ernie said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, it’s just a couple of short stories in The Hogsmeade Review. It’s not a big deal,” she answered before taking a sip of her wine.

“The Hogsmeade Review is a big deal, (Y/N/N),” he countered, “it’s where most big shot writers started. I believe Newt Scammander published his first essays there as well. Can you imagine your novels becoming standard Hogwarts readings?”

Ernie had a very articulated opinion on everything. At times during the date, (Y/N) would let him talk and talk and talk, until he seemed to exhaust his information on whatever they were now discussing. Did it bore her? To infinity and beyond. She couldn’t deny, though, that his enthusiasm was a bit infectious as well and she needed something like that at the moment. And, surprisingly, she wasn’t having a bad time.

So, when he asked her out for a second date, she bit the inside of her cheek and accepted.

tags: @naomi02hook @okaydraco @fandomscombine @iliketoast23

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mahou-war · 4 years

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MagiTale - Chapter 1

“So, how’s it gonna be?” – the voice rose up, surging from the darkness. A white weasel cat like creature.

“Go away!” – another voice, female now, hissed back. The figure of this voice was hidden by the shadows of the collapsed walls around her – “I don’t want to have anything to do with you. You tricked all of them! Their innocent minds, into becoming something they’d rather not!”

“I really don’t understand.” – the cat spoke – “You might as well be labeled as a Human, your ideals and concepts are roughly the same. But I digress.” – it stopped momentarily – “My offer is still on the table. You know where to find me.”

The cat turned away, seamingly wanting to distance itself from the other individual. It felt as if its time was wasted, but that didn’t exactly matter at the moment, as it knew what the next actions would turn out to be.

“Wait!” – the other voice jumped from the darkness – “Can you.. Can you really make anything come true?” – she questioned.

“Yes. Of course, as you already know, the true effects and consequences depend from your Karmic Weight, but you shouldn’t have any kind of problem with that.”

The other being made a pause. Her voice was calm, motherly, but sprinkled with a dash of urgency. As if her worst nightmares could finally end. Now her dreams, her ideal life, her past, it would all come back to her.

“Okay then. I’ve decided.” – she replied.

“Very well. Then what is the wish you’re willing to sacrifice your Soul for, your highness?”

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Chapter 1: Fallen Down

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Dark. Darker. Yet darker. I don’t even know if my eyes are open or not, but all I can see is darkness. Well, that and a distant voice echoes, as if I was deep underwater. A cold shiver envelops my whole body. But within that darkness, the voice gets louder. It’s lifting me up. With that, the darkness gets a bit more clearer. I open my eyes, slowly, and everything starts coming to me, bit by bit.

“Frisk! Oh, please tell me that you’re okay!”

I avert my gaze to the point of origin of the voice. A girl sitting on the same bed of flowers as I am looks at me, worried. Her hair is dark brown, just like me, and her eyes are a striking, vibrant red, just like my own. Except mine are usually closed. The girl is slightly see through. I can look at her and see the wall behind her at the same time. I know this girl. Yes, she’s important to me.

I was roughly 5 when I started noticing her presence. Everyone treated her as an imaginary friend, but I knew more. She was real. She IS real. She has a real story, and a real life. But now she’s a ghost that got stuck me. I don’t exactly know why though. She told me about Humans and Monsters. About Souls and Soul Gems. About Magical Girls and Witches. She told me everything. Even her name.

“Chara. Yes, yes, I’m okay.” – I managed to reply back at her.

“Oh, thank God! That fall was sure to put in you in a coma for at least half a year! I’m so sorry I’ve put you through this…” – she replied back at me, a clear worry in her voice.

“Don’t worry Chara. I signed up for this. I want to do this.” – it’s funny. My brain knows what to say, but it can’t remember why it’s saying what it is. I look around myself. I’m now sitting on a bed of flowers, golden buttercups. Giant walls of stone surround us, with vines covering them. The light above shines on us, warming our bodies. And just like that, more pieces of the puzzle fall back into my mind.

“Now that everything’s cleared up, what is your wish?”

“Frisk, you don’t have to do this, for real.”

“No, I have to. You’re stuck to me. You can’t exactly walk around and go back to the Underground. I’m going to help you. We’re gonna save them Chara.” – my voice fills my brain, alongside Chara’s and… his.

“Incubator. I wish for the power of salvation.”

“Can you specify that please?”

Yes, that’s it. I remember now. I get up, and see a small corridor, leading to a huge gateway entrance. Sparkles of light come out from it. There’s some kind of light source coming from it. We decide to move towards it.

As we reach it, we look inwards and find a single golden flower, similar to those earlier. We step into the wide area, and suddenly, the flower jumps to life.

“Howdy there! I’m Flowey – Flowey the Flower!” – it said happily. Chara warned me about how sudden Monsters could be, but I wasn’t expecting something like this.

“Say, you’re new around here, aren’t ya? You need someone to guide you through the Underground!” – it said happily.

“Well, actually--” – I tried to object, as I had Chara right next to me, but the flower just interrupted me.

“I guess little ol’ me will have to do it!” – it winked.

Suddenly, I felt a huge wave crushing my chest, as my surroundings lose its color. It becomes a mash-up of black and white. And just as it came, it left.

“Huh?” – the happy flower looked at me with very confused eyes – “Let’s try that again!” – he said cheerfully, as the feeling came back, pushing me downwards once more, but suddenly stopping. I wasn’t hurt, nor exhausted. It’s as if I just sneezed, for no apparent reason.

“Heh, hehe.. Okay…” – it continued, clearly starting to get annoyed – “Let’s try that one more time!” – I felt that energy again, but it no longer phased me. It’s now a very uninteresting movie for me.

“Hey, hey.. What’s going on, huh?!” – the tone of Flowey changed drastically. From a very friendly one to a tone filled with a thousand year anger – “You’re a Human, aren’t you? Where the hell is your Soul?!” – it hissed.

“Oh!” – I was taken by surprise, with such a direct approach, but I tried my best to befriend the friendly monster – “That’s right…” – I extend my hand, as the ring in my left middle finger glows and morphs into an egg shaped Gem, resting on my palm – “Here!”

There was a small pause. The flower starred in disbelief at my Soul Gem. It was a vibrant red, the same color as my eyes. Right at the top of it, was a heart symbol, and at the bottom, surrounded by a small circle, a four pointed star. The flower suddenly smirked, and was emitting an uneasy light cackle.

“Frisk, I don’t really trust this guy… he’s giving me really weird vibes….” – Chara spoke to me. Good thing only I can see and hear her, makes some of her comments easier to bear with. But still, now I’m worried. Chara lived quite some time with Monsters. For even her to be set back.. This “flower” must be something she has never seen.

Flowey’s laughter grew louder and louder, as vines erupt from the ground below him into the air, keen to claws of a starving wolf. He sprung his head upwards and looked straight into my eyes. His face was contorted. He no longer had his friendly smile, it was a monstrous look. His eyes void of life.

“WELL, THEN YOU’RE COMPLETELY USELESS TO ME, AREN’T YOU?! THIS WILL BE FAR TOO EASY FOR ME.” – a wall of bullets surround me in a perfect sphere – “D I E.”

I can see his vines lunging towards me, and the bullets dashing into me. I have my Soul Gem in my hand. Transforming takes only a second, I can protect myself from this. But I can’t. I froze in place, clinging to my own life, as the last bits of my life flash through my mind.

“I wish to have the power to save the Monsters. To save them from the Barrier and their thousand year prison. That’s what I want. The power of salvation.”

“I see. I don’t know why, but your Karmic Weight is quite heavy on you. Frisk, your wish will most certainly come true, but in order for it to come into fruition, you must go break the Barrier yourself.”

“That’s something I’m willing to do unconditionally. Nothing will stop me.”

‘Nothing’. Yet here I am, praying for someone to come help me. Please, anyone.

…

But… Someone did come.

As I waited for the impact of Flowey’s bullets and thorned vines, I suddenly hear a scorching sound and warmth, followed by Flowey’s screams. I open my eyes to find the unscrupulous flower burning in flames, and the bullets are now cinders slowly dancing and falling to the ground, as the flower retreats to whatever hellish hole it came from. From the other side of the room, a figure approaches.

She’s tall, and covered in white fur. She has small horns on her head and floppy ears at the side of her head. She’s wearing a dressing gown, purple with a crest on her chest – a circle with wings, and three triangles right under it. I can feel Chara’s intense gaze at her as she whispers – “Mom..”

“Oh, what a horrible creature torturing such a poor and innocent youth.” – she spoke to me, her voice calm, motherly, tender. Happy – “My name is Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins. Come my darling, let me guide you through them.”

She quickly grabbed my hand. I can feel her warmth warming me up from the inside out. Her aura, her presence. I enjoy being next to her. I feel like wanting to be with her forever. I can see Chara crying. This must be a hard moment for her. We make haste for the next room, where I can see red rose petals scattered around the floor. I catch a glimpse of a yellow shine, but it quickly disappeared.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Hey there! Author here, you may call me Mahou! :)

This is the very first Chapter of MagiTale, a Crossover AU/Fanfic that puts the characters and events of Undertale into the World and Lore of the Madoka Magica series. This is also the very first time I temper with Tumblr, so do offer some tips pls :')

Anyways, this is only a "preview" Chapter, a Demo almost, as the full story is currently in progression. I intend to post the entire thing once it's completed, so please do look forward to it! I'll also keep updating this page with content, related (or not) to MagiTale.

Well, I'll be going now, really hope you enjoyed it! :D

Cya~✨

#Madoka Magica #Undertale #AU #Crossover #Fanfic #Puella Magi #Magia Record #Undertale AU #MagiTale

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years

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Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Next update will be on Saturday, Oct 10th! Have a wonderful weekend my friends!

Chapter 13

"What do you mean this entire chapter is out of character?" Vic demanded as she read Ted's comment on the chapter heading.

Ted set her soda can on the coffee table and sat down next to her on his couch. Vic prudently moved the can further away from her laptop.

"She isn't brave in this chapter." He shrugged.

Vic stared at him, "Yes she is."

"Nope, she waits for her group to solve the problem. She doesn't take any action of her own. You're near the end of the book here, she needs to be brave, she needs to show that everything you've put her through has paid off and she's ready to be the hero now."

Vic sighed and looked back at her laptop screen. All of Ted's comments on her story were like this. He seemed to think that she was holding her heroine back, not allowing her character to live up to her potential. Vic usually passed off comments like this from others because she felt like they didn't know what they were talking about. But having Ted defend his reasoning with the sharp knifepoint of cold hard logic made Vic less sure of her insistence that she was right and everyone else was uninformed, or that they didn't understand the story.

"But we were going to look at your mum's list and talk about what Harry said to you." Ted knocked her knee with his.

Vic stared at her laptop for a moment more before nodding and shutting it down.

"Here," she handed Ted her notebook, "This is what they both said."

Ted leant back against the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table and Vic wondered if maybe she could get him to set this rather terrifying task aside in exchange for some more pleasurable activities. But before she could pursue that line of thought, Ted set the notebook in his lap and dove right in.

"Well, your mum's words seem accurate, but I'll admit that Harry's comment worries me a little bit." He frowned down at the notebook. "What on earth brought up a comment like that?"

Vic bit her lip and looked at her black laptop screen. Ted's hands gently but firmly grabbed hers, stopping her from trying to rub her skin raw.

"Vic, you can talk to me. I'm still the goof that got you chatting all day at work instead of doing our jobs. I'm still your friend. I just now also happen to be living my fantasy of being your boyfriend as well." He teased, and Vic gave a small laugh despite her nerves.

"Come on, Vic," Ted tapped her chin up with his finger, trying to get her to look at him. "You can tell me what happened. You can tell me anything."

She bit her lip harder and dropped her gaze lower. She might as well tell him; it wasn't like they hadn't already talked about this to an extent before.

"I, I was sort of worried that, that Harry and the rest of your family were going to try and convince you to break up with me."

"Vic," Ted shook his head, "You've got it all wrong."

"Well if Uncle Harry is right, then it's me we should apparently be worried about anyway." She huffed.

"We're not going to worry about either of us walking away, alright." Vic jumped as Ted's normally playful voice had gone very firm. "If it happens, we'll deal with it when we get there, but right now we're both committed to being with each other, so let's not start talking about who's going to walk away."

"I'm sorry," she tried to fold further in on herself.

"No, I'm sorry," Ted sighed and pulled her into him. "I spent so much time wishing that you were mine and now talking about that ending brought me up short. I don't like thinking about you not being in my life."

Vic took a deep breath in his embrace and tried to ignore how much these hard feelings seemed to be ruining everything. They held each other for a few silent moments, breathing each other in, before Ted's voice sounded in the quiet.

"Is Harry right? Do you not love yourself?"

Vic closed her eyes, afraid to look that question full in the face.

"I," she whispered. "I don't know."

Ted's fingers moved into her hair, combing through it from the base of her neck to the ends.

"I still love you." His voice was a quiet rumble, and his lips were very close to her ear.

Vic felt a small smile pull on her lips. It was comforting that hearing him say those words now made her heart flutter and her spine tingle. When he said it to her the first time all she had felt was guilt and panic. But now, now those words filled her with hope.

"You don't have to say it back," Ted continued in the same low rumble. "But I want you to know that didn't change. And if it helps you love yourself at all to know that I love you, then I want you to know that I never stopped loving you."

Vic gave in to the smile that had been pulling on her lips and turned to face him.

"Thank you, that does help."

And it did. Vic didn't know if she really didn't love herself or if she'd spent the last little while tearing herself so far down that she forgot what it felt like not to. But hearing Ted say he loved her seemed to awaken a part of her soul that had gone dormant, hiding from all the internal berating that had become her inner voice.

Ted leant in, gently brushing his lips along hers.

"Good," He smiled against her. "And would it help if I said it more often?"

Vic kissed him again as she answered. "It certainly wouldn't hurt anything."

"I'm going to act as if you said yes," he gave her a cheeky grin.

She laughed and laid her head against his shoulder, letting the warm comfort of his embrace envelope her. It felt right to sit here with him like this. When it was the two of them and she wasn't worried about anyone else, everything about being with Ted felt right. And that realization opened her eyes just a fraction more to the possibility that this page in her notebook might be worth exploring if for no other reason than to try and create a life where she always felt right with Ted, a life where she didn't try to sabotage her own happiness.

Vic glanced over at the page and saw the first line.

You and your desires are important.

Well, right now her desire was to be happy with Ted without her brain trying to ruin it. She would just have to start giving that priority, that's what you did with important things after all.

"I think maybe I just needed to take a look at Mum's list in a new light." She let her thoughts vocalize.

"Yeah?" Ted kissed the top of her head.

"Yeah, those lines seem a bit less terrifying now." Vic looked up at him and smirked. "You're fully to blame. What am I supposed to do with a boyfriend who helps me see that my mother is right?"

Ted laughed and pulled her closer. "There's the woman I fell in love with."

"Don't try to sweet-talk your way out of this," Vic stuck her tongue out at him. "Boyfriends are supposed to tell you that you're perfect and need no improvements."

Ted tipped forward and kissed her.

"Boyfriends who don't plan on sticking around, sure. But I want you to be happy, and I'm realizing in my short life span that growth tends to help with happiness." Then he smirked. "And if you'd rather I didn't talk my way out of this, I could probably find some other entertaining ways to distract you."

He slid his fingertips under the hem of her shirt and Vic leant into his hand, a quiet hum escaping her lips.

"I knew you practiced witchcraft," she sighed when Ted moved to kiss her neck, his lips lingering behind her ear and his warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

"I could go back to talking my way out of whatever metaphorical hole you dropped me in." He whispered before pulling back entirely and leaning against the arm of the couch.

The smirk he offered her made Vic want to simultaneously smack him upside the head and snog him senseless.

"See!" She threw her hands in the air, "Witchcraft!" Then she laughed and moved to the opposite arm of the couch. "There! How do you like it?"

Ted smiled, "I'm rather enjoying the view. I could get used to you sprawled out on my couch like that."

Vic rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you've got a magic wand somewhere that could make me float to you if you needed it."

"I don't know if I'd call it magic, but…" He smirked at her, his warm amber eyes taking on a honey cast as they seemed to bore into hers.

"Oh, shut up!" Vic felt her face grow hot but she forced herself to hold his penetrating gaze. "I'm sure you learned that one your last year of primary school too."

Ted continued to smirk at her, "That pink on your cheeks says it doesn't matter when I learned it."

"You're ridiculous!" She gave up and looked away and shook her head, trying to clear away her blush.

"Nah, I'm just in love with you."

Vic couldn't stop the smile that claimed her lips.

"You're not going to let me win, are you?" She tried to pout but from the look on Ted's face, she was failing miserably.

Ted laughed and then moved to her side of the couch. He leant into her, bringing his face within a couple of inches of hers.

"Better?"

"Is this what me winning is?" Vic suddenly found it a little harder to take in air than normal.

"Did you want something different?" Ted ran the tip of his nose along the side of her own and Vic felt the desire to bring her lips to his run through her whole body like an electric current.

"I think I can make do with this," she smirked up at him.

Ted's chuckle rumbled in his chest and Vic let out an audible sigh when he finally brought his lips to hers.

You and your desires are important.

The words echoed quietly in her mind, and as Vic lost herself in snogging Ted, she knew she could face this list now. Because now she could see that while Ted joked about being thrown in holes, she actually had dug one for herself and climbed in, and it was time to climb back out.

Just as soon as she finished kissing Ted like her life depended on it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

As it happened, it took almost another week for Vic to find the time to sit down with the page in her notebook that had nearly given her a stomach ulcer when her mum first wrote out its contents. She curled up against her pillows on her bed and took a deep breath as she read through the list again.

You and your desires are important.

You are a good person.

You are brave.

You must decide your life's story.

If you can't believe that you're worthy of being loved, then sooner or later, you'll be the one to walk away.

Vic reasoned that if her desires were important then she ought to know what her desires were. She'd never really put a lot of thought into what she wanted, mostly she did what was expected of her. But she was done pretending that was enough; she was going to go after the things she wanted.

Just as soon as she figured out what that was…

Vic turned the page in her notebook and grabbed a pen. She wrote down the epiphany she'd had back at Ted's flat.

I want to stop trying to sabotage my relationship with Ted. I want to let myself be happy with him.

"Well, there's something at least."

Vic looked at the line and tried to figure out what else she wanted. She looked around her childhood bedroom and pursed her lips as memories tried to intrude on her attempt at figuring out her life. Maybe she'd get Dom to switch rooms with her just to be able to look around and not feel like everything reminded her of her childhood. Then she laughed and put her pen to the next line.

I want to move out.

Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as she originally thought. Vic smiled at the two lines she had so far. And those two things felt somewhat complete. Maybe she'd add more to this list, but right now, being on her own, and not undermining her relationship with Ted felt like enough. She turned the page back and read the next thing on her mum's list.

You are a good person.

Vic sighed. She wasn't so sure about her being a good person. She was just about to skip over this one when a thought occurred to her. Ted loved her. Her family loved her. And she trusted them. She trusted their opinions and advice. If they loved her, then she couldn't be a horrible person, could she? Vic admitted that she still felt a bit like she wasn't a good person, but if she trusted her dad to love her, and her mum to love her, and Ted to love her even though she didn't treat him the way she should have at the beginning, then maybe she could trust that they at least thought she was good. Maybe that could be enough, for now, to just trust that she was a good person.

You are brave.

Vic actually laughed. Brave? Why on earth would her mum put something like that. Vic shook her head and decided to skip this one. Maybe it was a French thing?

You must decide your life's story.

Vic thought she understood this one now. Her mum was trying to get her to see that she'd more or less just been floating without a whole lot of direction. There was a moment where Vic wondered if she should try and make those decisions of what she wanted her life story to look like, but the moment of anxiety that hit her was enough to tell her that maybe she should take this in pieces. She knew that she wanted Ted in her story, and she knew she wanted her own place. Right now, that would be enough. She'd write more chapters as she worked through these, but Vic resolved that she was going to be the star of those chapters. She wasn't going to wait for others to write her story for her anymore. The fact that she didn't have total control in her life wasn't going to be her excuse anymore. What she could control she would, and everything she couldn't control wasn't going to stop her from making her life the way she wanted it.

Vic's eyes drifted to Harry's advice.

If you can't believe that you're worthy of being loved, then sooner or later, you'll be the one to walk away.

Thinking about it now, Vic realized this was a lot like her mum's words that she was a good person. She would just have to trust for now that she was worthy of being loved, especially by Ted. Every time her brain told her she wasn't, she'd choose to trust that she was. She'd choose to believe that Ted was with her because he wanted to be. She'd choose to believe that she was worthy of his love. And she would tell those thoughts that she wasn't to get lost.

Vic almost laughed at herself. This page in her notebook had nearly made her sick with anxiety, and now she was smiling down at the words on the page.

"Quel magnifique sourire, ma chérie." Fleur stood within the door frame.

"Merci, Maman," Vic scooted over as her mum came to sit on her bed with her.

"Ah, and you even have my few words of advice with you."

Vic laughed, "Yeah, I guess I should say thank you. I didn't realize it at first, but they've been helpful. I don't feel so lost now."

"Merveilleux," Fleur wrapped her arms around Vic's shoulders, "and what will you do now?"

Vic bit her lip and looked up over at her mum. "Look for a flat of my own?"

Fleur laughed. "Don't ask me, this is your story."

"Alright, then," Vic gave her mum a sheepish smile. "Maman, I'm going to look for a flat of my own."

Her mum hugged her tight, "I'm proud of you, ma chérie."

"Thanks, Maman," Vic took a deep breath. "Think you could help me?"

"I would love to help you." Fleur turned to look at her daughter. "And what of your Ted?"

Vic looked down at the notebook and smiled. "I'm going to stop undermining myself. He says he loves me, and I'm going to believe him."

"And perhaps now we could get to know the one so dear to your heart?" Her mum gave Vic a rather pointed look. "I've been ever so patient, ma chérie."

Vic laughed. She had definitely avoided the step of introducing each other's families into her relationship with Ted, but maybe it was time. They'd been together for three months now, and if you counted how she behaved like he hung the moon while they worked together, then you could add another six months on to that.

"I'll talk to Ted about it when I see him on Friday."

Fleur squeezed her shoulders. "Merci, and what of work?"

"Work is good," Vic chuckled. "Who knew I'd enjoy editing other people's writing? Or that I'd be good at it?"

"I did," Fleur kissed her cheek, "but now you know it too, and that's more important."

Vic rolled her eyes and laughed, "Thanks, Maman."

"It is what mothers are for, ma chérie," Fleur teased.

Vic hugged her mum and smiled down at the notebook in her lap. It may have been a roundabout way of doing things, but she was glad that her mum had helped her to see what she needed to change in order to be happier. With this new chapter of her life beginning, Vic was sure that while it probably wouldn't be easy, it would definitely be worth it, if for no other reason than she would be the heroine of her own life. And if she could be the heroine of her own life, then she could probably figure out what was wrong with her book heroine as well. At the very least, she was going to try and accomplish both of those things while she found herself a flat.

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amaviarra · 5 years

Text

Broken

⚠ : Angst, violence, mentions of rape, cussing.

A/N: This was going to be a one shot, but i don't want to make it super long so it'll probably be a 2 or 3 shot. Sorry it's so angsty that seems to be my mood currently. But it will get better and lighter. also sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I'll try and write more tonight so next update should be either tonight, tomorrow or next weekend 😅

-----------

Y/N had been having a good night. Fangs had invitied her out to the whyte wyrm to play some pool and she could never turn down her friend. So they came to what was basically their second home.

Just the two of them. Toni was out with Cheryl, probably getting ready for the pool party they were planning for tomorrow. Jughead was somewhere with Betty, probably sticking their noses where they didn't belong and Sweetpea well, she didn't know where he was. He had been MIA and hard to contact all summer.

Which left her and Fangs to entertain each other. Which she didn't mind, he was one of her closest friends and a riot. What she didn't like though was losing to him. Which she just did, for the second time that night.

Y/N watched as Fangs over enthusastically boasted about winning. "Okay, okay Fangs chill." Putting her pool stick to the side she sighed and motioned toward the hallway to the side "I'm going to the bathroom, why don't you grab us some snacks and a drink while I'm gone"

Fangs gave her a cheeky smile and a mock salute before putting his own pool stick away and made his way to the bar. Y/N shook her head in amusement and started making her way to the bathroom.

That's when her night went bad. It wasn't uncommon to see couples getting hot and heavy in the hallways, heck even sometimes in the bathrooms, at the whyte wyrm. But what made her heart drop into her stomach was who she saw swapping saliva in the hallway.

Sweetpea and Josie.

Y/N stilled when she saw them in a close embrace. She shouldn't feel this way. Sweetpea wasn't hers, by any means. Sure they had a friends with benefits thing going on, but that had ended weeks ago and they had gone back to just being friends.

Y/N guessed it had to do with Josie and him. Straighting her posture she decided to continue to her original destination. Eyes forward she started walking to the bathroom.

She was almost at the door when she stopped at the call of her name, groaning internally she smiled as she turned to face Sweetpea. "Hey Pea"

He smiled in return, his arms still wrapped around Josie who at the moment didn't look to pleased. "Hey Y/N! What are you doing here?"

Y/N rose a brow and chuckled as she motioned toward the bathroom "Just taking care of something. I'm here with Fangs he should be at the bar if you want to say hi."

Sweetpea nodded but didn't say more as Josie worked on getting his attention back on her.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N turned back around and made her way into the bathroom. Once she was in and the door was securely closed she let her smile drop as she looked in the mirror. Suddenly feeling like complete crap.

As she looked over her features her frown deepend and her mind raced. It was no wonder Sweetpea would choose someone like Josie over someone like herself. Josie was fit, beautiful. She had an amazing voice and skin without blemishes.

Meanwhile she, well she had blemishes. A lot of them. She had extra weight on her too.

Usually it didn't bother her, she didn't let it. But her mind wasn't letting her escape today. No one would ever want her, at least not the one she wanted.

Sighing she shook her head. She didn't feel like being here anymore. She'd wait awhile and then sneak out. She'll text Fangs once she was home. Turning around she went into one of the stalls. Ready to bid some time and hope that they were out of the hallway so she could sneak away.

-------

Getting out was easier then she thought it would be. She had waited 10 minutes and then checked the hall, which was thankfully empty.

She moved quickly and paused as she came to the main area of the whyte wyrm. Glancing to the bar she was relieved to see Fangs was talking to Sweetpea, Josie and some other serpents.

Quickly grabbing her stuff she made a dash for the door. Thankful that she had a small presence despite her size.

Unfortunately for her she had gotten a ride here from Fangs. Which meant she'd have to walk home.

Grumbling slightly at the thought she started in the direction of the trailer park that held her home.

She was half way there when she started to regret her decision. It was well past midnight now. She was very tempted to call Fangs and ask him to pick her up. But she was too stubborn to do that.

Still big girl or not, she knew that walking at night alone on the south side was dangerous.

She clenched her jaw as a car sped past her. Please keep going, please keep going she thought as she watched the car with narrowed eyes. It wasn't one she recognized which meant it was either someone traveling through town or it belonged to a ghoulie. She really hoped it was the someone passing through town.

Her eyes widened, alarmed, as the car came to a sudden stop shortly after passing her. She cringed as the tires squealed and it backed up to stop beside her.

Fuck. Ghoulies.

"Hey fatty what are you doing out here alone?" The one in the passenger seat spoke.

She frowned, her hands becoming fists at her side she narrowed her eyes at them. "Leave me be"

Stiffening her posture, head held high she began to walk away. In the direction of her home, she ignored their taunts as they slowly followed her.

She hoped that they would get bored and leave. Her heart began to speed up when she heard the car stop followed with doors opening and shutting.

"Stop and chat with us serpent whore. Let's have some fun"

She ignored him and sped up. Soon breaking into a full run. No way she could fight them all.

It was no use though, a hand wrapped around her arm and jerked her back. She was now face to face with four ghoulies.

Squaring herself up, she got in a defensive position as they rose their weapons, all four of them had identical sickening smirks on their faces.

She'd be damned if she went down without a fight.

-----------

Sweetpea frowned at his phone. He hadn't heard from Y/N for awhile. Weeks. No one had.

Sometimes she did this. So it shouldn't worry him. She would leave for weeks at a time suddenly and without warning.

But the thing that was different this time was that she hadn't contacted anyone. She never did that. She would at least send someone a quick message to check in.

Bringing up her name he pressed on the call option and brought it up to his ear. His frown deepend when it went straight to voicemail.

"What's up Pea?"

Sweetpea looked up as the other members of the gang entered the room. He put his phone down and sighed "Just tried Y/N. She still isn't picking up, it's just going to voicemail now"

Jughead frowned "That is concerning, but right now we need to get our head in the game. We are about to raid the ghoulies hideout so we all need to be focused. We will look into finding Y/N after."

Sweetpea stiffened, Y/N was important...to the serpents. She should be top priority. He huffed, Jughead didn't change his mind once it was made up. "Fine..." He grumbled. Maybe beating some ghoulies would help with the restlessness he was feeling.

---------

Y/N groaned as she tried to open her eyes. She couldn't. Where was She? Ah yeah. The ghoulies had taken her that night. They out did her in strength and brought her to their hideout.

They had wanted information, their new leader was even worse then the last. When she didn't give them what they wanted they beat her. They...did even worse then that.

She shivered, her whole body screaming at the action. Ecspecially her wrist that was tightly cuffed to something above her.

She was pretty sure that this time she was going to die. When was the last time she had eaten? She hurt so bad, everywhere. She was also sure that she had lost a good amount of blood with how often she fainted and how weak she felt.

She stiffened as she heard the door slam open and the heavy multiple footsteps that followed.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasnt the panicked call of her name before she blacked out once more.

---------

Sweetpea was mad, no actually he was beyond mad he was downright pissed. If he could he would go back to that ghoulie hide out and get all the little fucks he could find and kill them.

His jaw clenched so tightly he was sure he almost broke a tooth. He couldn't go though.

His gaze drifted toward you, resting in the bed of the hospital. Multiple machines hooked up to you.

He wouldn't leave you.

His heart broke at the sight of you. It was hard on him to see you so....fragile.

You were such a spitfire. So strong and independent. Seeing you in the ghoulies hide out, hadncuffed to a pipe. Beaten, bruised, swollen and bloody and then learning what exactly they had done to you.

It hurt him and made his blood boil. He took your hand in his, holding it gently taking caution of the wires. He enclosed it in both his hands. He should have stopped you that night at whyte wyrm.

He had seen you sneak out. He had thought to go after you, Stop you. But then he figured you had just reached your socializing limit.

Plus he had been a bit....distracted.

He leaned back in the chair, still holding onto your hand and watching you closely.

"Please Y/N, please wake up".

#sweetpea x reader #sweet pea x reader #sweetpea x you

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lettersofwrittencollective · 5 years

Text

The Pull (21/?)

Summary: The Ragnulf’s are one of the oldest lines of werewolves known. A gift from ancient times was given to the line. Though not all of the line will experience it. There are some who will experience a Pull. This Pull leads them to their true mate, a soulmate. The problem is, just because the wolf finds their true mate does not mean that they are the same for that person.

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective

Pairing: Stiles x Hale!Cousin OC (Reader)

Word Count: 2762

Warnings:

A/N: Sorry that this took so long to get out! Though this scene is not Stiles or reader-centric, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think :) Remember that reblogs always help!

Also, instead of posting every other day I am going to be posting The Pull on Wednesdays and Sundays. Today is Saturday so there will not be a post again until Wednesday This is to try and give me some more time studying which I have really needed.

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

Isaac checked his phone again, waiting to see if Derek or the twins would send him a text. Hell, he’d even accept something from Peter if it meant that he got an update about Natasha .

After the things had disappeared and the dust had settled at the loft, they had all noticed that Natasha and Stiles were missing from the room. Allison had asked about Lydia and Aiden had said that Danny had taken her when Derek ran everyone out. Personally, Isaac had figured that Stiles had gone with Danny to help the redhead.

But that meant that Natasha was missing.

When he had asked about her, Scott had said she’d arrived with him, Kira and Stiles but that he hadn’t seen her since they had gotten to the party and she had gone to change. Aiden said he’d seen her having a soda, which he was sure was for Derek's benefit but had lost her in the crowd about an hour or so ago.

Derek had called Peter who had promptly lost his mind and showed up while Allison was trying to get a hold of her dad. The two of them and the twins were searching the area for Natasha to be sure that those things hadn’t harmed her.

He’d wanted to stay but with Allison’s Dad not picking up, the brunette was getting worried. She wanted to go look for him and, seeing as she had been just about ready to bolt out the door, Isaac decided to go with her.

They had decided to start at the Penthouse, see if they could find a scent to follow or some other kind of clue as to where he’d gone. It was a good thing too because when they’d come in they’d found him on the floor.

Allison had paled at the sight and he had heard her heartbeat spike for just a moment before she’d taken a deep breath and collected herself. It hadn’t taken them long to get Argent back on his feet. While they were getting Argent cleaned up, Scott had shown up, wanting to help out.

The four of them had made their way to Argent's study, or home office where he was currently sharing the story of the one time he had apparently almost been killed by these things.

A ding went off on his phone and he looked down to check

Derek: Nothing yet, will keep you posted.

Biting back a growl, he had to remind himself that there wasn’t a whole lot that he could do at this point but let Derek look for her. So, he turned his attention back to Argent’s story.

“There was something almost ritualistic about it. Like it was looking right into his soul.

Feeling an icy shiver run down his spine at the memory, Isaac said, “That’s the same thing it did to me.”

Allison points out that they had done that to everyone but Scott points out that it was only the werewolves… and Lydia.

Trying to put the pieces together, Isaac hears Argent point out that they would have gone after anyone with a connection to the supernatural.

Asking about the guy in Japan, Isaacs not at all surprised to find out that Allison's dad had sold guns to the Yakuza. Though it did serve as a reminder not to piss the man off.

“The moment the sun went down, it was like they just materialized out of the shadows. They had swords. Not curved like katanas but straight black steel like ninjatos.”

Those things had apparently been after the Kumicho, who was apparently the boss of the group that Argent met with and it had gotten through everyone. Cutting through the gangsters like it was nothing.

Hearing Argent's story, the mark on the back of his ear suddenly found like a brand. Touching it, he asked, “Did they mark him like they did us?”

Of course, they didn’t. Allison's dad told them about how the things had made their way through the group and when they had gotten to the Kumicho they had all taken their swords and impaled the man who was apparently not just human. Which, in Isaacs opinion, really wasn’t that surprising if he thought about it.

Though Chris had no idea what the creatures were he did think that there was someone that might know what they were or, at least what they hunted. He’d apparently spent yesterday trying to find this man, Katashi.

“Didn’t look like he wanted to be found.” Isaac pointed out, considering the way they’d found the older man this morning. Considering how long ago this deal had taken place, Isaac wasn’t sure that this guy would actually be their best bet so he asked, “What if he doesn’t remember you?”

Pulling out a box, Argent responds, ‘He’ll remember this.” In the box are the broken fragments of one of the creatures masks. Isaac can’t help the involuntary shiver that runs down his spine as he remembers the night before.

“I know I didn’t kill it. I’m not sure you can. But I slowed it down long enough for us to get out of there.”

When Scott asked what was behind the mask, Argent responded with, “Darkness. Absolute darkness.”

The room was silent as they each took in what that meant. Alisson reached out and he took her hand in his, holding tightly as he tried to reassure her that they would be fine regardless of what happened. His phone went off again and this time, it was a phone call from Derek.

He let go of Allison's hand and walked out of the room, answering the line as he went. Putting the phone up to his ear, he listened to the other line.

“Ok so she’s nowhere in the Iron Heads and we couldn’t find her near the loft. The thing is that her bike is here-”

“Well, what about your jeep? Or Peters car?”

“Also here. Though that may not mean too much seeing as how the twins say she’s been getting rides from Stiles lately.”

“What does that have to do with anything?’

“Well if she left with Stiles and Lydia it makes sense that she would have gone in his jeep.” He can hear the frustration in Derek's voice as he tries to explain it and Isaac is just going to follow that train of thought.

“But we don’t know that she did leave with Stiles.” Isaac’s pointing out before he can really think it through. Not that he wants to think too much about it.

“Aiden’s gonna go check on Lydia and see if she’s there at the same time.”

He couldn’t help the scoff that left him, “You know he doesn’t care right? He’s just trying to get Lydia to keep sleeping with him and Scott to take him in.”

The growl on the other end of the line surprises him but before he can comment on it, Derek’s saying “I don’t really care what his reasonings are right now. If Natasha is there then that’s fine.”

Before he can respond, Derek’s hung up the phone and all he’s getting is a dial tone. Pursing his lips, he turns to go back into the study where Scott is excusing himself from them and headed out.

Allison looks at him, the question evident on her face and he shakes his head.

“They still haven’t found her?”

“Nope.”

The brunette looks to her dad then to him before she nods her head as she walks past him, grabbing his arm and pulling him along, “Let’s go then.”

This, this right here is why Isaac can’t help but like the girl. She’s got a big heart and is always willing to go help out her friends. A smile tugs at his lips as they make their way towards the elevator. She must have seen the look because she’s raising an eyebrow at him and he has to drop the smile, shaking his head as he mutters that it’s nothing.

While the two of them are getting into the elevator, his phone starts ringing. Pulling it out and looking at the caller ID he sees that Sties’ contact name and forwards the call. The spastic boy probably wants to complain about Aiden and he doesn’t want to hear it. He needs to go find Natasha.

A moment later, Stiles is calling again and Isaac has to take a deep breath. Answering the line, he growls out, “What?”

“Ok first of all Rude, you don’t greet people that way. Second, good morning to you too sunshine. Third, are you with Scott?”

“Wait, Tasha?”

“Obviously.” She sounds irritable, that can’t be good.

“Wait why are you calling me from Stiles’ phone?”

“Something came up so we left the party go check out a lead on Barrow. My phone died and is currently charging up to turn back on. So, are you with Scott or Alli?”

“Allison.”

He could hear a groan on the other side of the line before Natasha is asking, “Have you guys seen Scott? He’s not answering his cell.”

“Umm, he just left a few minutes ago. I’m guessing he’s riding right now which would keep him from answering.”

Another groan from the other line surprised him as he could have sworn he heard her cursing under her breath. “Alright, we’ll just catch him at school then.” He then hears her shouting at Stiles, she’s telling him to get something together and that they’ll have to finish the argument at the school. Apparently, Scott’s going to agree with her for whatever it is.

He looks over at Allison who’s trying very hard not to laugh if all the snickering she’s doing is any indication. A moment later, she’s calling his name and when he acknowledges her, she says that they’re going to have to talk later.

The pitch in her voices surprises him and when he asks if she’s okay she gets silent for a moment.

“Tasha?”

“I’m not sure yet. I gotta go though, see you later. ”

The line goes dead before he can respond and Allison allows the laughs that she was holding back to escape. When he looks at her, she just shakes her head. “Tasha was with Stiles?”

“Apparently so,” he says softly with a nod of his head.

Allison’s smile gets wider and she claps her hands together. When he asks what it is, she merely shakes her head, “I think they’re cute together.”

He can’t help the scoff that escapes him, “Nope. She’s too good for him.”

Allison gives him a look that says, really? And he shakes his head, “I’m serious! Tasha’s is smart, strong, passionate, and a freaking badass.”

Allison’s laugh doesn’t surprise him and he can feel a shiver run down his spine when she leans in and places a hand on his chest. “You know,” she begins, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you like her.”

He has a moment of panic and moves to look down at her but she’s got a smile on her lips her nose is scrunched up that adorable way that tells him she’s joking. Leaning forward, he kisses her nose. “I am serious though,” he says softly to her.

“So am I. You can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed them spending more time together. Or that he’s always got a smile on when she’s around.”

“Well, he needs to stop. He’d better get his head out of whatever fantasy it’s in. They can be friends but that’s it.”

Allison laughs as she leans back, “So, who should she date?”

He doesn’t like the question. Natasha isn’t here to just date someone. She’s gonna meet someone and it’s basically going to change the rest of her life.

Shaking his head, he doesn’t know how to answer but Allison is looking at him expectantly so he clears his throat, “What about Johnson?”

Allison laugher and kisses his cheek, “it’s a good thing you’re cute.”

Scotts on his way to the school when the twins pull up on either side of him. Groaning, he speeds up to try and outrun them but they catch up and end up parking next to him in the lot.

Sighing, he pulls off his helmet and looks at them, “You guys gonna be doing this all day?”

“All day.”

“All night.”

Scott has to bite back a groan of frustration but he remembers that they had been helping Derek. “So, did you guys end up finding Natasha?” Though he wasn’t very close to her he had noticed that Stiles was getting closer to it. He just hoped that it was more because he enjoyed spending time with the girl and not because he was trying to keep an eye on her.

Aiden's the one to respond, “She’s actually looking for you.” Scotts confusion must be evident on his face because a moment later Aiden continues, “Derek said she called Lahey trying to get a hold of you.

“Besides, in case you’ve forgotten, you are the target of demonic ninjas.”

“You mean the demonic ninjas that pulled swords out of their chests and completely kicked our asses?”

“Yea! Those demonic ninjas.”

Scott, while appreciative of the thought, doesn’t really think that he needs the protection and says so.

Ethan looks at him like he’s lost his mind before saying, “They were looking right at you when the sun came up.”

“And they also disappeared,” Scott returns with a shrug, “`Argent thinks they just come out at night.”

Ethan, however, is having none of it. “Since this is our first experience with demonic ninjas, we’re thinking we should play it safe.”

“All day,” Aiden points out.

Scott, realizing they’re right, lets out a sigh, “And all night.”

The three of them get off the bikes and make their way into the school. As they walk, Scott asks about Aiden’s comment about Natasha looking for him.

“According to Derek, she is.”

“He say why?” When neither one of them answers he turns to look at Aiden.

“What?”

“You talk to her more than your brother.”

“Doesn’t mean I know anything. She and I aren’t exactly the best of friends. Have you checked with Stilinski?”

Scotts surprised and furrows his brow, “I thought he was with Lydia?”

“If he was, he wasn’t there when I swung by.” Aiden shrugged. His voice was slightly defensive, almost as if he was daring the Alpha to say something about the fact that he had spent time with the redhead. Scott, for his part, decided not to address the tone. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Aiden's feelings towards his banshee friend but he trusted her enough to make her own decisions about where to go from here.

Sighing, Scott realized that the three of them have made it into the school. “Ok, so Aiden, you and Ethan see if you can get a hold of Natasha. Then we can all get together and she can tell me whatever it is that she needs to tell me but first, I need to talk to Stiles and let him know everything that happened last night. Without you.”

“No.”

“Yes,” Scott shot back as something occurred to him, “And I don’t want you listening in. No wolf hearing.”

“How would you even know?”

“I’m a True Alpha. You have no idea what I can do.” Scott shuts his locker and steps away. Making his way down the halls, it takes him a moment to realize that the twins have fallen in step just behind him on either side and just behind.

When he stops to question them, It’s Aiden who responds, “You said to find Natasha. Well, if Stiles isn't with Lydia then my money’s on him being with her.”

Scott’s silent for a moment but as soon as he realizes that Aiden’s right he chuckles softly,. “So find Natasha, find Stiles. Well, then you two get going. See if you can find anything on these- demonic ninjas.”

Ethan, he can feel, is ready to argue but Scott watches as Aiden grabs his brothers arm and agrees with Scott. Aiden tugs Ethan backward and soon enough, the two of them are making their way down the hallway that leads towards the library. It doesn’t escape his notice that Aiden was, shockingly, the calmer of the two twins.

Turning, he makes his way through the hallways looking for both Stiles and Natasha.

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

Tag List: @nicole-lynne @fandom-princess-forevermore @capandbuck @biles-bilinski-24 @stiles-o-dylan24 @fiveisadorable @falling-stars-never-cry @blueraindrops @its-livelovelife @screamxqueenx94 @ceceliaking-18 @jasmin3xswayz31994 @dear-vista @fangirlbitch02 @riseandshinelittleblossom @jessicakimba @truthdaze @seninjakitey @kateeee0817 @squadkyoya @lucifersnipnips @niawoods @thesunthemoontheflare @bloodrose-scythe @fox-in-a-mousetrap-8 @findingmyselfinthismessedupworld

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is the property of lettersofwrittencollective . Associated characters belong to MTV and are being borrowed for this work, all OC’s are the property of lettersofwrittencollective. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted 04 May 2019

#Reader insert #stiles x reader #Stiles #Stiles Stilinkski #Stiles imagine #stiles imagines #Stiles Stilinski Imagine #stiles stilinski imagines #teen wolf insert #Teen Wolf #Teen Wolf x reader #Teen Wolf rewrite #The Pull #My writing #series

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crossbows-and-moonshine · 5 years

Text

Such a Softer Sin (chapter one)

I know you all probably hate me since I’ve not been updating my other fics, but my muses have been all over the place. This one came to me, I had to write it.

It was supposed to be something short and sweet, I had planned for it to be around five chapters. But the boys had other ideas and decided they wanted more attention, so it’s ended up being a lot longer. And I mean a lot longer! :’)

The good news is that I’ve actually finished this fic which means you won't have to wait so long between chapters because they're all written. This is a first for me, I’ve never completed a fic before so yay me! :’) I’m using my own experience for Lila and her grandfather, I went through this with my grandma, so all of this is personal experience and some of it was very hard to write.

This is set pre BDS.

The title of this fic comes from lyrics, I caught fire- the used. One of my fav bands ever. I was listening to the song when this idea hit me.

‘So kiss me like you did,

My heart stopped beating,

Such a softer sin.’

Also, my Daryl Dixon muse is back and I’ve currently got 5 Daryl fics in the works. I know, 5, it's ridiculous, but he won’t leave me alone. So if you’re interested in a multi chapter Daryl fic (or five loool) then keep your eyes peeled. I’m trying to get at least 15 chapters for each of them before I start posting so that you aren't kept waiting like you have been with my others!

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Thunder boomed in the sky as the metaphorical heavens opened, the sky alight with flashes of lightning every so often. Lila ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her clothes stuck to her like a second skin. Of course she would get caught in this weather, she didn't know why she was so surprised at her misfortune when her whole life had been a shit show. Her first day back in Boston and she was already hating being here. She stood huddled under a shops tarp as she tried to figure out where to go next, her arms wrapped around herself like a protective shield from the rain. Her black t shirt and jeans were soaked through and felt uncomfortable, like she was wrapped in a blanket made of ice.

Lila had moved to Boston with her grandfather. She had been his live in help and carer for the past year since his dementia and lung cancer had took a turn for the worst. So when the man said he wanted to go back to Boston, she didn't feel like she could say no, and she had no intentions of not coming with him. She herself was born in Boston, her grandad was Irish and the Irish community here in Southie was booming. She was raised here by her parents, but when she was 10, her mother and grandfather decided to move to New York after her father was murdered. He was caught in the crosshairs of a mafia war, just an innocent bystander that was collateral damage. And as a result, she was left fatherless and heartbroken. She never wanted to set foot back in Boston after that, she wasn't stupid enough to think the mafia weren't still running things here despite the 11 years that had gone by. But her grandfather really wanted to come back here, the closest to home he could get since he couldn't travel. He knew he didn't have too long left, and she couldn't really deny him what was essentially his dying wish.

When they arrived, the small apartment they’d rented wasn't what she’d expected. She wasn't exactly well off and didn’t have some fancy ass place back in New York, but this was ridiculous. The whole thing was like one big room, the only private bit being the bathroom that had nothing but a toilet and a sink. There wasn't even a shower. And then there had been the search for a part time job that she had undertaken as soon as they unpacked. She didn't want to leave her grandfather at all, but he couldn't work and she needed to earn at least some money in order for them to live. But it seemed no one was fucking hiring. Either that or no one wanted to hire her. And now, on her way back home, she was caught in a storm, and she fucking hated them. Loud noises as always scared her, sending her back to being a 10 year old girl and hearing the gunshot from the car as her dad was shot, walking back to the car from paying for gas.

She was soaked, cold and scared and she needed to get inside somewhere to wait for the rain to calm down. She hadn't expected the storm, if she did she would have worn a fucking coat. Her red wavy hair that she had inherited from her mother was luckily up in a messy bun, bar a few tendrils that framed her face, lest it clung to her head and make her look like a drowned rat. She really fucking hated storms. She saw a sign across the road for a pub and she made a mad dash for it. It would be warm inside at least, and it was an Irish bar. She always felt at home there, her mother worked in one back when they lived here and then worked at another in New York. She pushed open the door and the warmth enveloped her, making her sigh with relief. She moved to sit in a booth and closed her eyes. She didn't even realise she was shivering, her clothes still wet and cold and the hair that fell around her face was dripping onto her. The warm air in the pub could only do so much to warm her whilst she was still wearing them and piss wet through.

She sniffled a little and hoped to God she wouldn't come down with a cold from being caught in the rain. She seemed to get sick at every fucking chance and it made her life that much harder. She was in her own world when a blanket was suddenly draped around her and a shot of whiskey placed in front of her, she looked up shocked only to find a pair of piercing blue eyes looking at her.

“Ye looked cold love.” The man said with a boyish smile, looking almost innocent despite his smoldering looks. She blinked at him for a minute like the cold had made her brain malfunction a little. He had dark brown hair and was dressed in a black t shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and a pair of jeans, almost mirroring what she herself was wearing.

“Uh...thanks.” She replied, still looking a little confused. Since her life was mainly looking after her grandfather now, she had almost forgot just how it was to be in an Irish pub. The people in New York were so closed off, the opposite to how they were in this little Irish community here in Southie. He chuckled a little and shifted on his feet, looking like he wanted to sit in the booth with her but was fighting against the urge. Maybe he was waiting for her to offer, not wanting to just impose himself on her, but she couldn't find it in herself to ask him to, she wasn't really in the mood for company.

She wasn't really sure what to say, she was cold and miserable at her failure to get a job and she was worried about her grandad being back home alone whilst she was caught out in the storm. When she didn't say anything else, the man gave her a nod with a small smile before returning to sit at the bar, next to a guy wearing the same clothes but with dark blonde hair. The blonde was looking at her and he looked almost concerned and she wasn't sure why it unsettled her. She turned away from them and downed her shot, welcoming the warmth that spread through her body as she did. The men kept looking at her every so often as they spoke in hushed tones but she ignored it. If she learned anything from coming from an Irish family and having a mother that worked in Irish pubs, it was that they looked out for each other, it was one of the reasons she chose to come inside here to get warm and not anywhere else.

A few minutes passed before the barmaid came over, she looked around 40 with dark brown hair with a few grays mixed in. She had a kind face as she came over.

“Can I get ye anythin’? Some food or somethin’?” She asked with a warm smile. Lila wondered just how bad she looked if everyone seemed so concerned about her. She knew she was soaked through and she could feel her body trembling pretty bad, but she hadn’t caught a glimpse of herself and she wasn't sure she wanted to with how everyone was acting.

“I’m okay thank you. I just need to wait for the storm to pass.” She replied with a small smile of her own, but it didn't meet her eyes.

“Do ye need te call anyone? We have a phone ye can use.” The woman offered politely. Lila thought about it, it would be good to check in with her grandad and make sure he was okay.

“Yeah, thanks. I need to check in with my granda.” Despite the fact she was born in Boston, her parents were both Irish born and bred. Lila didn't have an accent yet she still said the same terms the Irish used as a result of her Irish upbringing. The woman could tell she had at least some Irish in her, her hair was a dead giveaway and her pale skin. The woman nodded and led her to the phone behind the bar and Lila followed gratefully, the blanket still wrapped around her.

The phone wasn't exactly private, it was right behind the bar and next to the man who had helped her earlier and his friend. They were both watching her curiously and it was making her slightly uncomfortable as she picked up the receiver and dialed her grandfather's new number. She knew the men wouldn't be able to hear the whole conversation and she hoped the lull of conversation in the bar was enough to drown out her side of it too. After a few rings her grandfather answered.

“Hello?” He asked gruffly, making her grimace a little. Her grandfather was always a lovely man, affectionate and happy. But since his condition got worse he started getting angry, a short fuse. His confusion made him mad and she felt sorry for him. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to forget things like he did, important things and people.

“Granda? Are you okay?” She asked softly, her hand clutching the receiver tightly. She knew when he sounded like this he was having one of his moments.

“Who the fuck is this?” He barked at her. Her heart squeezed a little, she would never get used to having to deal with this.

“It’s Lila granda, your granddaughter, remember?” She prompted softly, sometimes that was enough to make him remember and snap out of it, but as time went on it was getting harder and harder to do it.

“I don’t have a granddaughter! Are ye takin’ the piss? Who is this?” He growled angrily, making her bow her head and inhale a shaky breath. It didn't matter how many times she went through this, every time he forgot who she was and acted like this towards her, it hurt like hell. She felt tears stinging her eyes and she tried to summon the courage to answer him.

“I just told you granda, it’s Lila. Your daughter Mary’s daughter. I live with you remember? I take care of you.” Her voice wobbled as she spoke, betraying her at how upset she was getting. There was a long silence on the phone and she wondered if he was even still there.

“Aye...Lila...where are ye? Shouldn't be out in a storm lass.” She breathed a sigh of relief and sniffled a little, a mixture of the cold and the pain expanding in her ribcage.

“I got stuck in the rain granda, I’m waiting it out in a pub. I’ll be home soon okay?” She said softly as she wiped her eyes. She knew despite the fact he currently remembered her, once she got home she would have to go through it again. It was never ending and it was getting harder for her to deal with. The 21 year old girl hadn't ever expected to be caring for another person like this, to have to watch them deteriorate before her very eyes. The man had raised her after her father had died, it was killing her to see him like this.

“Alright, be safe gettin’ home Delila.”

“I will granda. Love you.” She wiped her eyes again and bit her lower lip with a sigh.

“Love ye too.” With that, he hung up.

Lila put the phone back and heaved a sigh, she could feel eyes on her and she glanced to her left to see the same two men watching her sympathetically and she fucking knew they had heard her. She looked away feeling weak and pathetic for being such a mess and walked back over to the booth she had been sitting at. Ten minutes later the rain had calmed down enough and she knew she had to go before it picked up again. She stood and folded the blanket neatly, bringing it with her empty shot glass to the bar and handing them to the barmaid from earlier. The woman gave her a warm smile before she slipped out of the door and made her way back to the tiny apartment that she now shared with her grandfather.

#boondock saints #boondock saints fanfic #boondock saints imagine #murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus fanfic #murphy macmanus imagine #connor macmanus #connor macmanus fanfic

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byuneebuns · 6 years

Text

Fenced In (Part 7)

Chanyeol/Baekhyun x Reader College AU

Rated: M for Smut

Tags: NSFW, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Slow Burn, College AU, Porn with Plot

Author’s Note: I’m sorry in advance for any delays, but for now updates will be tentatively set for once a week. ♡ Work sucks and I’m just tired all of the time.

Fenced In Mini Masterlist

The tension in the air was palpable. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in when Chanyeol’s door shut behind him. You knew it had been inconsiderate of you to let Baekhyun stay over without asking Chanyeol, and you genuinely felt badly for it, but you were still stunned by his reaction.

I guess he must feel like his privacy was invaded. He probably has the wrong idea, too....

Your cheeks reddened at what he must have assumed after seeing you and Baekhyun leaving your bedroom together.

“He’s not that tall.”

Your eyes widened and you turned to Baekhyun questioningly. He scoffed. “Well, he isn’t. You made him sound like Yao Ming. He’s actually just a big baby,” He finished bitterly.

“That’s mean, you don’t even know him,” You said in protest, surprised by the look of aggression on Baekhyun’s face.

“I don’t have to know him to know that he’s acting like a brat because he wishes he had walked out of that room this morning instead of me.”

Your mind reeled as you considered what Baekhyun was suggesting. Before you had time to really process it he chuckled darkly.

“Oh well, we can’t all get what we want.”

Your brow furrowed in annoyance.

“You didn’t really get anything. Don’t make your own narrative of events.”

His smile from earlier was nowhere to be found when he turned to face you, but he remained silent.

“I think you should go for now, Baekhyun. I need to fix this mess with my roommate before things get awkward.” You said quietly. As much as you would have preferred to avoid the situation you knew doing so would only make everything much, much worse.

A mix of bitterness and hurt clouded Baekhyun’s handsome features as he processed what you said. He nodded and moved to collect his belongings silently.

“Baekhyun, wait.” You said, your voice shaking. You could feel a stress migraine coming on from having two men you were hopelessly attracted to angry at you because of misunderstandings.

‘How can they be misunderstanding anything when you don’t even know what the hell is going on?’ a small, callous voice in the back of your mind hissed.

You willed your jello legs to move towards Baekhyun, who was standing in front of the door stiffly with one hand on the knob.

You placed your hand tentatively on his shoulder and squeezed.

“Please understand that this isn’t a slight against you.”

You could see his jaw clenching and unclenching as he wrestled with himself mentally.

You squeezed his shoulder again, silently begging him to turn around and face you, to understand that you didn’t really want him to leave, but he kept his back to you stubbornly.

“Call me when you’re done changing your roommate’s diaper.”

The door shut in your face and you were too dumbfounded to move. As your senses returned you felt rage burning in your chest like a wildfire.

You trudged to the kitchen, your head throbbing, and splashed water from the kitchen sink on your face. You placed your hands on the counter to steady yourself, feeling your anger ebb into sadness as the water ran down your cheeks.

You didn’t want to make anyone mad, and you didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. You weren’t doing anything necessarily malicious but it seemed like no matter what your intention was someone was bound to be hurt.

You bit your lip nervously as Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s betrayed expressions haunted you. Of course you cared about Baekhyun’s feelings and hadn’t wanted him to leave, but Chanyeol was someone you had to live with for the foreseeable future and you couldn’t handle that becoming…unpleasant. Baekhyun being here, undoubtedly feeling smug about some perceived victory, while you talked to Chanyeol would have been trying to put a fire out with gasoline. You hoped with your whole heart that Baekhyun would see that after he had time to calm down. For the moment though, you had bigger fish to fry.

You took a few deep breaths, still leaning over the sink, as you tried to steel yourself for what was to come.

You managed to scrape together the willpower to shuffle down the hall to Chanyeol’s door, which felt more like a gate to hell with each passing second.

You knocked hesitantly, your legs barely managing to keep you upright with the severity of shaking they were currently experiencing. The silence stretched on so you lifted your hand to knock again when the door flew open. You flashed back to the last time you’d been in this exact same situation and your heart shattered at the stark contrast between Chanyeol’s face then and now.

“What do you need?” He asked, exhaustion permeating his voice.

“Can we please talk?” You asked faintly, pulling at the skin on your thumbs nervously.

He exhaled loudly through his nose, tipping his head back and running his hand through his hair in frustration while he considered your request.

He said nothing, instead walking back in to his room and sitting in the computer desk chair, leaving his door open behind him. You took it as an invitation and followed him meekly, sitting on the edge of his bed behind him.

“Chanyeol,” You started, swallowing your nerves and willing your voice not to crack, “Can you please explain to me why you are upset? I can’t know how to fix this if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

He visibly tensed but still didn’t respond.

“I know that I shouldn’t have let Baekhyun stay over without asking,” he winced at the sound of the other man’s name, “and I’m sorry for that, but I can’t understand why you’ve seemed so angry with me since last night.” You finished, trailing off with uncertainty.

Chanyeol whirled around in his chair, his eyes searching yours.

“You really don’t know? You have no idea?” He finally asked incredulously.

You shook your head and shrugged helplessly.

He leaned back in his chair and covered his eyes with his hand, groaning.

“Listen…I just...I’m sorry. I overreacted. Please apologize to your boyfriend for me. I was just shocked to meet him so suddenly.” He muttered, not moving from his position.

“It isn’t…he’s not…Baekhyun and I are not dating.” You mumbled, embarrassed for a reason you couldn’t identify. Chanyeol’s hand left his face and you could see his mind working through something although you weren’t sure what there was to think so hard about.

“Why not?”

You merely gaped at him, thrown for the world’s largest loop by that question. He looked almost as surprised at himself for asking it.

“I…I don’t know, we, we just met? I don’t know him well enough yet, of course I like him but I don’t know, I-“ You pressed your hands to your warm cheeks and tried to slow your heartrate as images of Baekhyun softly holding you in his arms that morning flooded your memory.

Chanyeol watched you thoughtfully, chewing the inside of his mouth, the rosy tinge of your cheeks not eluding him.

“So, you like him.” He said emphatically.

“I said I don’t know. There’s…someone else I was also kind of interested in and I just don’t know what I’m really doing or what I want….” You trailed off, not meeting his eyes.

“Who’s the other lucky guy,” Chanyeol asked, propping up his face with his hand as he watched you fidget with interest.

“Someone I…really shouldn’t be involved with. “ You answered in a hushed tone, growing more and more uncomfortable as he pressed you for details. You glanced at him, surprised to find him leaning towards you with fire in his eyes.

“I think I know what you mean,” He said softly, his hand leaving his cheek to trail down yours, raising goosebumps in its wake, finally gripping your chin and forcing you to lock your eyes with his.

You stared at each other in silence for a few moments that seemed to stretch into hours until he leaned forward slightly, closing the gap between you, and pressed his lips softly, hesitantly into yours.

You were so shocked that you forgot to move, or even breathe. Collecting yourself, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut and returned his kiss, melting into him as your lips moved together with unspoken feelings.

His hand crept up your face and found your hair, entwining itself there and tugging you closer. You left your spot on the bed and climbed onto his lap, your heart thudding in your ears as you straddled him in his computer chair.

You could feel his erection straining against his shorts and pressing into your center, making you hiss with need. You were still worked up and frustrated from your dream and you could already feel yourself ready to come undone for him. You rolled your hips on his growing erection, moaning in his mouth and causing him to follow suit, your hands gripping his shirt tightly as you felt your arousal start to soak your panties through.

He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss and tasting you. His free hand found its way to your waist and pulled you closer to him as he bucked his hips into you, desperate for friction.

You gasped and tried to pull back, overwhelmed with lust and slightly dizzy from desire, but he kept you tightly pressed against him. His lips traveled across your cheek to your ear where he sucked at the lobe, nipping it while his fingernails traced symbols down your back.

“You have no idea…how long…I’ve wanted you like this….” He growled in your ear, his voice rough with desire, sending shivers down your spine as he rolled his hips firmly into you again as if to further emphasize his point.

“Chanyeol, I-“

Your moans were cut short by the sound of your ringtone. Your phone had slipped from your pocket and landed face-up on the floor beside you and you were horrified to see Baekhyun’s name flashing on the screen.

You untangled yourself from him, the spell now broken, as your eyes darted around the room in panic.

“I…have to go,” You whispered, mostly to yourself, as you retrieved your phone and practically sprinted from the room, leaving Chanyeol with his chest heaving and his face twisted with envy.

You leaned against your closed bedroom door breathing heavily while your phone still vibrated insistently in your hand. You slid the screen, accepting the call, and brought the receiver to your ear.

“…Baekhyun?” You whispered meekly, fearful for what he had to say that required a phone call.

“Oh, shit, you scared me. I wasn’t expecting you to answer after….” He trailed off, his voice subdued.

“I’m sorry…for what I said. Earlier. I just, I don’t know, I don’t want to give you a stupid excuse. I knew you weren’t trying to kick me out, I just…got a little jealous is all.” He muttered bashfully.

Guilt flooded the pit of your stomach, weighing you down and making your eyes sting.

“I hope that you and your roommate were able to make up.”

“Y-yes, we talked about it. I’m sorry for making you leave so suddenly earlier, I just-“

“Please don’t apologize, it’s okay. You don’t have anything to feel sorry for. Except for maybe being scandalously cute when you first wake up, you can apologize for that.” He hummed playfully, his normal cheery disposition returning. You couldn’t help but smile at his praise, your heart feeling light despite the lump of shame still eating away at you.

“You looked like you were electrocuted in your sleep, all of your hair was sticking up. What else did you do before you snuck into my room last night?”

“YAH, HOW COULD YOU SAY SOMETHING SO HEARTLESS TO ME? Are you a sadist? Not shaming, it’s kind of hot, but still please be considerate of the feelings of an angel, I’m very sensitive!” He yelled indignantly while you doubled over in a fit of giggles. It was impossible to stay in a bad mood with him being like this, his playfulness was infectious and something about him made it impossible not to want to tease him.

“You know Satan was technically an angel too, right?” You teased, giggling at his cries of resentment.

“Thanks for coming last night, Baekhyun. I had a nice time.”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he thanked you in kind for having him and apologized again for causing problems with Chanyeol.

You said your goodbyes and fell backwards, spread-eagled, onto your mattress and stared at the ceiling.

“These boys are truly going to be the death of me.” You murmured, letting your exhaustion overcome you.

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msbigredmachine · 7 years

Text

The Mechanic - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

An impromptu trip to a service station leads to an encounter with a sexy mechanic. Her car isn’t the only thing he works on. Roman Reigns/OC.

Comments will be greatly appreciated!

"No, no! Not now, goddamn it!" Anya smacked her hand on the dashboard, which was showing her bad news. The check engine light had come on out of nowhere, and before she knew it her car had stuttered into a complete standstill on the side of the road. "Great, just great," she griped.

Her 2005 Chevy Impala always seemed to have one issue or the other. In the past year, the alternator had given up, then the air-conditioning had died on her, and now it was obviously the engine’s turn. The car was just a goddamn mess, and her former quack of a mechanic hadn’t helped matters either. But berating him was not going to solve her current dilemma. She still had a couple more errands to run, and she was yet to get her grocery shopping done. But now, the car wouldn't crank anymore, and worse, it was a Sunday. She didn’t know many service stations that were open on Sundays.

Anya’s only saving grace this late morning was that the car had died about four blocks away from a service station. Remembering that, she made a decision then and there, and she grabbed her purse, climbed out of the car and headed down the other direction towards the shop. She was so glad she started going to church again. The good Lord had obviously answered her prayers to get her out of this mess.

The service station looked deserted, with the small customer service desk and waiting room both empty. No customers were waiting around, and there didn't appear to be anyone working there. The garage bays were all open, but the sign on the front door read ‘Closed’. Anya sighed tiredly. She was so screwed. She’d walked all this way down, in her heels and her sundress, for nothing. How the heck was she getting home today? And what was she going to do with her car?

A deep voice sounded seemingly out of nowhere, interrupting her gloomy thoughts. "Can I help you, Miss?"

Startled, Anya spun towards the service bay, and on seeing the owner of the voice, her jaw slackened. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming. The man standing in front of Anya looked like a GQ model. Tall as hell, light-skinned with long dark hair, large, muscular arms, and the most beautiful face she had ever seen. His white t-shirt was thin and smeared with grease along with his arms and one side of his face, and his jeans were worn and streaked as well, but the only served to make him look sexier than he already clearly was.

Holy shit.

"Miss?" he said, startling Anya from her trance. His eyes bored through hers, and a knowing smile had formed on his face. She could tell right away that he was used to women staring at him, and he was clearly enjoying the attention. Anya wanted to smack herself for being so obvious. She didn’t mean to stare, but man… "Oh, I'm sorry," she tried to recover, focusing on his eyes so her own wouldn’t wander down his body again. "My car’s engine just died a couple of blocks from here. You work here, right? Please tell me you’re open today."

The tall glass of water nodded with a smile. "You’re in luck, Miss. We’re open for the next three hours or so. I can go get the wrecker around back so we can pick up your car. Wanna come along for the ride?"

“Sure!” Anya blurted out, and then cringed inwardly for sounding so eager. If he noticed, he ignored it, merely laughing and leading her around to the back of the station to the tow truck. As he helped her climb in, she said, “You’re a life saver. I had no idea how I was gonna get my car home.”

“Like I said, you’re in luck,” the hottie said, “We actually don’t open on Sundays. I was just there to catch up on some work.” He glanced over in her direction for a brief moment. “I’m Roman, by the way.”

Roman. Quite apropos, as he looked a hella lot like the Roman gods of that era. “Anya. Nice to meet you,” she replied.

“Anya. That’s a beautiful name,” he complimented her with a dazzling smile, and Anya felt herself get warm all over. They got to her car, and she watched him load it onto the wrecker, observing how his muscles rippled the whole time as he worked. Once they got back to the station, he off-loaded the car into the nearest service bay. He opened the front door, popped the hood, and then went to the front of the car, looking under the hood to evaluate the problem. Anya stood by, staring at his fine, firm-looking ass as he bent over the front of the car.

"Well, it looks like the car got a little overheated,” Roman assessed, his eyes still on the engine. “But it don’t look too badly damaged. I can get the car fixed in about an hour, two tops," he added, lifting his head to look at her. “Is that alright?”

Anya sighed with relief. “Of course. Oh thank God. That’s good news for sure.”

"Glad to hear,” said Roman. “Would you like a drink while you wait? Juice? Soda? Water? It’ll be on the house," he offered.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I just really wanna get this car issue sorted out as quick as possible.”

Roman smiled. “I understand. You probably got somewhere to be, maybe a date or something.”

Anya shook her head. “No, no date,” she clarified, feeling her face warm slightly. “Haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“Wow, that’s a surprise. I expected a beautiful woman like yourself would have guys tripping over themselves to get to know you.” His comment caught her completely off guard, and the look he gave her as he eyed her from head to toe sent a tingle down her spine, all the way down to the spot between her legs that had been smoldering ever since she first laid eyes on him. Would it be so forward if she told him she wanted to get to know him, in a far less appropriate, far more intimate way than he suggested? She chose to keep her mouth shut, only offering him a sweet smile in response.

The silence began to grow awkward, and Roman cleared his throat. “So, uh, how about you take a seat in our waiting room while I get started?”

“Sounds good.”

Neither moved. The two continued to gaze at each other, and Anya felt a warm sensation in the pit of her stomach as she sensed the tension building between them. He would be doing much more than fixing her car if she didn't get out of here and let him do his job. She made her way to the waiting room and sat down, playing with her phone while her car was being repaired. From her vantage point, she could see Roman working. He seemed like he knew what he was doing, so she didn’t worry too much about her car. She would also occasionally look over at the man himself. She wasn’t in a relationship, so she had free reign to stare all she wanted. She didn’t think he was taken either, at least he didn’t give off that kind of vibe. He was so damn gorgeous though. His muscles, his hair, the big hands…she liked big hands. A lot. She guessed he was Polynesian, judging from his exotic features and the style of the tattoo that adorned his right arm. His t-shirt rode up a little, giving her a glimpse of the black briefs covering up that ass, and she imagined how firm they would feel in her hands. Feeling flushed, she shook away the naughty thoughts and concentrated on her phone.

After an hour had passed with no update on the progress of her car, she decided to go and check in on the mechanic. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Roman turned around, his eyes briefly flickering down to her legs as she approached him. “I think I’m done, actually,” he stated, ducking from under the hood and grabbing a clean napkin on the worktable next to him. “Wanna take a look?”

He watched Anya step forward to take a look inside the hood, placing herself at the center of the engine, and he felt himself get hard as he admired the view. The position left her bent at the waist, causing the hem of her short sundress to inch higher and further expose off her bare legs, which looked fantastic in those heels. He’d only met her a couple of hours earlier, but he’d felt the electricity crackle between them from the jump and it still simmered now. Anya was gorgeous, sexy, with a delectable body that made him want to unleash his inner beast and do unspeakable things to her. He couldn’t deny that he wanted her, and he sensed from their interaction that the feeling was mutual.

"I’m not sure what I’m looking at, to be honest. I’m terrible with cars," Anya was saying, still looking inside the hood. She had deliberately positioned herself this way, with her back to him and bent over, for Roman’s benefit. She could feel the warm morning breeze against the backs of her legs, and she could feel his eyes locked on her. Her ass was pretty much in his face, basically giving him an all access pass to her goodies. She secretly hoped that he would take the hint and take advantage.

Then she felt it. His large, warm hand curling over her hip. Anya closed her eyes, drinking in the feeling of the stranger's touch. It lingered in the silence of the moment, as if asking for permission to go further. When she gave no objection, his hand gently slid over her belly, while his other hand made its way up her dress simultaneously. She gasped as his body pressed against hers from behind, and the first thing she felt was his erection, alert and pressing persistently against her backside. The hand in her dress made slow, deliberate circles over her thigh, and she found herself silently begging for his hands to be more daring, to touch her more intimately than he was allowing himself to. She grabbed the top of the hood with one hand as he wedged his thigh between her legs and pressed himself more earnestly against her. His breath was warm on her neck, and Anya gasped again as his mouth met the base of her throat, his tongue darting out to lick the patch of skin there.

“Tell me to stop, Anya,” Roman growled low, lips dangerously close to hers, and she shivered in his arms. His mouth then shifted to her ear as his hand continued its voyage of her inner thigh. "Tell me to stop, and I'll back off, let you pay for the repairs and leave my shop. But if you don't, I'm gonna fuck you right here on your car, and I won’t stop until you’re coming so hard you’ll be seeing stars."

Anya gave a breathy moan as she rolled her ass into his crotch, craving every inch of what she felt there. "Oh, Roman…Don't you dare stop."

She heard his low moan, felt his lips brush over her neck one more time. Placing his fingers underneath her chin, he guided her face up to his, scooping her lips in a carnal, searing kiss that almost brought her to her knees. Fuck, he tasted so good, a delicious mix of mint and man that she would never forget. She wasn’t sure how long their passionate kissing went on for, but it wasn’t long enough. Then, without warning, he dropped to his knees behind her. Both his hands were up her dress now, sliding along her upper thighs and over her hips. Anya tried to remain silent, her eyes squeezing shut as he continued to caress her, but when his large palms swept over the curve of her ass and brushed over her heated core, she let out a whimper of pleasure.

“Shut the hood and lean forwards,” Roman ordered, waiting for Anya to comply. Satisfied that he had her under his complete control, he began kneading the rounded globes of her ass, exploring the softness of her flesh, which was a rather sensual contrast to his workman hands. She shifted her weight back enough to spread her legs slightly, giving more access for his assault on her body. She felt him push her dress up to her back, felt his hot breath on her skin, his lips pressed briefly on her ass as his fingers crept even closer to her most intimate spot. Roman then hooked his index finger around the tiny fabric of her lace panties, pulling it aside, and without warning, he shoved a finger into her wetness, sending shockwaves through her.

"Ahhhh," was all that came out of Anya’s mouth. She pushed her hips back against his hand, helping him guide his fingers inside her . Still on his knees, Roman used his fingers to rub up and down the length of her slit, coating the digits with her wetness. Anya cried out as he then plunged deeper into her depths. She braced her hands on the hood of her car as she rolled her hips over and over, riding his fingers. Just as she was approaching ecstasy, nearing the edge of complete euphoria, Roman pulled his fingers out of her, leaving her hollow and empty.

“What the fuck,” she panted, glaring with frustration at him over her shoulder as he stood up, a smirk on his face that Anya would have considered obnoxious if she didn’t find him so fucking sexy.

Roman locked eyes with her as he licked each of his fingers. “Don’t worry baby, we ain’t done.” He pulled off his shirt and flung it aside, and Anya’s mouth watered at the sight of him. His tattoo climbed up his arm all the way past his shoulders and over his pectoral muscle. She helped him get rid of her dress, and she blushed at the look in his eyes as they raked over her body. He moved forwards until she was sat on the hood, and he reached up to caress her breasts through her bra. He dipped his head to kiss her again, teasing her with his tongue as he explored her taste. Anya groaned as he molded and kneaded her breasts, and she returned the favor by unbuttoning his jeans and promptly sliding her hand inside. She stroked his dick through the briefs, giving him a firm squeeze and pumping him. Roman groaned at her touch, and he pushed her hands away and scooped her up, setting her on the hood of her car.

Anya leaned back on her elbows as she watched him yank down his jeans and boxers at the same time, standing before her in all his naked glory. He had a body she'd only fantasized about, including the thick shaft that stood erect and ready for her. She wanted to touch him so bad, taste him, to slide her tongue over that big dick, to push that throbbing erection into her mouth and down her throat. Her eyes lifted to his, seeing in his brown irises every bit of the desire and hunger that she was feeling.

Roman let his fingers curl through the lace panties she was wearing, and she happily tilted her hips for him to pull them off her. He blindly tossed the underwear over his shoulder as she spread her legs wider, exposing her glistening, swollen flesh to his hungry eyes. Shit. She was so wet, so appetizing. All he wanted to do was lower his mouth onto those swollen pussy lips, to lick and eat her until her eyes rolled back, but right now, it was more important to be inside her than anything else.

Her dark, dazed eyes met his as he leaned over her, one hand on either side of her, flat on the hood. She reached out and pressed her hands to his chest and abs, licking her lips hungrily as she caressed him. She groaned as he dipped his head to kiss her shoulder, feeling his hand wind behind her back to unclip her bra. Throwing it aside, he cupped both her breasts in his hands, ducking down to suckle on one nipple, then the other. Anya's hands slid into his long, silky hair as he feasted on her breasts. His dick brushed her thigh as he leaned over her and she felt a shudder in her loins. She needed him inside her so badly. Her head falling back, she moaned and squirmed under him, making his erection slide up and down the inside of her thigh, pleasuring her just as much as his mouth on her breasts.

Roman finally lifted his head, loving the way her nipples puckered from his sucking. His dick ached for her and he was finding it more difficult to hold himself. He gave her left nipple a quick bite that had her gasping. "Spread your legs a little wider," he told her, his tone matching the way his body pulsed with need. He stepped up between her legs, a big hand already on his cock, stroking himself as he aimed for her swollen slit. “You ready for me, baby?”

"Yes..." she answered, watching intently as his head pressed into her pussy, and she threw her head back as she felt the first stretch of her muscles around his thickness. "Oh fuck, Roman..." Her moan trailed off as he slowly pushed himself into her, stretching, filling, overwhelming her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Her legs curled around his waist, and his calloused palms were on her ass, lifting her against him so he could push deeper, penetrate her to the hilt. It was like she was made just for him, the way she accommodated every inch of his length, the way she throbbed around him, the heat and pleasure that submerged him and made him quiver for more. Her pussy wrapped so tightly around him he wasn't sure he could breathe. The sensation of her inner muscles rippling against his thickness was incredible, and he hadn’t even started fucking her yet. Growling under his breath, he drew his cock back and thrust into her. Hard. Noting the way the pleasure flooded her features, he did it again, and again, until he’d established a sweet, sensual rhythm. Each stroke had her gasping for breath, her full lips parted open and causing pleasure to flood through him. It wasn’t long before he picked up the pace. “Damn, your pussy’s fuckin’ drippin’, baby,” Roman commented, pushing up on her as he thrust harder into her. “So fuckin’ tight too. Fuck.”

A gasping Anya wrapped her hands around his biceps and tried to keep her eyes on him, but she couldn’t, not with the delicious precision with which he hit her sweet spot. Even as she moaned, he leaned forwards and bore down on her, his hands locked over her shoulders, holding her still while he hammered white-hot pleasure into her body. He would pause to roll his hips, burying his dick inside her, then he would accelerate again, battering her pussy with the force of his thrusts, and she cried out again and again. “Yes, yes Roman, fuck me,” she moaned, her hands dragging down his back to clutch his ass. It felt as firm as she imagined it to be, and she scraped her fingernails over the taut skin, enjoying the way the muscles clenched and unclenched beneath her palms with every thrust of his hips.

Grunting, Roman shifted her legs up to his shoulders. Sharp breaths escaped them both as he fucked her with reckless abandon on the hood of her car. All he wanted was more, more of her body, more of her warm, soaked pussy, and he was determined to get it all.

“Fuck, I’m comin’ baby,” Anya whined, her legs starting to tremble as her pussy clamped around his dick. “Fuck, I’ma come all over this dick.”

“Yes, baby girl. Come on my dick,” Roman rasped, grabbing her legs from his shoulders and spreading them far apart as he kept up his relentless tempo. He groaned as the blood surged to his groin and he swelled inside her. He looked on with triumph as Anya’s eyes widened, and suddenly she screamed, her body arching, her legs shaking as she came apart around him. He sensed his own orgasm impending even when her inner muscles started to relax, and he couldn’t control himself when it did. He moaned loudly as his balls clenched and his dick throbbed and pulsed inside her. He fell on top of her, pinning her to her car as he emptied into her. Anya shuddered when he went limp on top of her, her hands stroking his back, her other fingers curling in his hair. When he was finally able to catch his breath, Roman shifted back, both of them moaning as his drained dick slid out of her. He held himself up on his arms as he observed her, taking in her flushed, satisfied face, her kiss-swollen lips and disheveled hair. She looked damn beautiful, and it was a sight he didn’t mind seeing every day. "You alright, darlin?" he drawled.

Anya returned the smile, licking her lips as her pussy still pulsed from the incredible pleasure. "I’m good. Very good," she murmured, "Hell of a service you just rendered. Does it come with the repairs?" she asked with a wink.

Chuckling, Roman picked his briefs and his jeans off the floor and put them back on. "Nope, it’s part of a very exclusive package. One that you, baby girl, are free to enjoy whenever you want." It was his turn to wink.

Anya giggled at his reply. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” she said, sitting up as Roman handed her dress to her. She reached for her discarded underwear but he grabbed them before she did and held them up in the air. “Um, those are mine,” she told him, her eyebrow raised.

To her surprise, Roman shook his head and tucked the tiny scrap of lingerie into his back pocket. “Not anymore, baby,” he growled, “You want ‘em back, you know where to find ‘em.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a future invite, handsome.” She hoped this was the case.

“I guess it is.” He shrugged, and his deep voice sounded casual, but his smoldering gaze held more intent than his words did.

Anya couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. Luckily, she didn’t live too far away from the service station, so she would have no problem finding him again. “We’ll see.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth, running her tongue beneath his top lip. Then, she slid off the car and sank to her knees, her gaze filled with mischief as she pulled his jeans back down. "Now, let’s see about paying for my car, shall we?"

THE END.

TAGGING:

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#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns #roman reigns smut #the mechanic

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shannsleeve · 7 years

Text

Fantastic Reasons & Where to Find Them

Here are chapters 7 & 8! We’re finally going to see more of Queenie! Thank you again to all who are reading. I really appreciate the support! As always, reply if you’d like to be tagged for updates.

@teacup-occamy, you’re the best~ <3

Tagging: @sowerewolfglitter, @dorkwolf-nightmare, @alltheamazingbeasts

Note: Fic is canon compliant and follows plot of the film.

CHAPTER 7

Much had changed in New York since Feather’s last trip. Dozens of motorcars and carriages spilled onto the streets, causing massive amounts of traffic everywhere. She couldn’t take a step without almost getting hit by a speeding car or towering horse. Even the people seemed to be obsessed with rushing to their next destination as quickly as possible. She watched several men and women bolt across the streets without waiting for oncoming traffic to pass, each of them narrowly escaping the throes of Death. Getting to the Goldsteins’ brownstone the Muggle way was definitely out of the question. Unfortunately, Feather was not in the ideal condition to Apparate. The docks were closest to Chelsea which, if memory served her correctly, wasn’t too far from to the sisters’ home on West 24th Street. Since her hospitalization, Feather was under strict orders to only Apparate to her flat and St. Mungo’s. She was terribly out of practice. Splinching was almost inevitable if she wasn’t careful, even at so short a distance.

“And this isn’t the time to see if I’ve improved,” she muttered, glancing at her watch. 1:30PM. Thirty minutes past lunchtime. Another loud, angry rumble sounded in her stomach. She needed to find her bearings (and a sandwich) as soon as possible. She was currently at Pier 57 and could see people bustling along 11th Street. She shrunk her case, placed it in her coat, and took a few more steps forward but stopped as she noticed the street signs. The numbers increased to the north and decreased to the south. She almost kicked herself for not remembering that simple fact about New York’s grid-like streets. With a huff, she began stomping her way up 11th Street.

–

On the corner of 11th and 20th Street, Feather’s stomach began to rebel. She hadn’t had anything to eat since early that morning in the ship’s mess hall. The episode she had onboard had also drained her of any remaining strength. Feeling more than a bit queasy, she set out to find sustenance. A lovely smell wafted through the air – caramelized onions, toasted bread, and sizzling meat – that caused Feather’s mouth to water and her nose to perk up. Rounding the corner on 20th, she saw a wooden cart with the words FRESH HOT DOGS written across the top in gold lettering.

“Not a sandwich,” she said with a shrug. “But it’ll do.”

A line of six people stood by the cart, shivering and staring hungrily at the man standing behind the cart. He was a portly gentleman with dark hair and a messenger cap. He whistled an old sailor’s shanty as he tended the grill.

“Just a few more minutes, ladies and gents!” he called, stuffing a toasted bun with onions.

Feather practically skipped across the street to the end of the line and watched as the chef behind the cart filled orders. When she came before him, a bright smile lit up his face. In fact, it was the first ray of light she’d seen on the drab New York streets.

“What’ll it be, my dear?”

“Um…one, please,” she said, scanning all the different condiments set up in front of the grill. “With those amazing onions, some relish, and…a touch of mustard and ketchup.”

“You’ve got it!” He turned back to the grill and began to fill her order.

Feather took the opportunity to peer behind the cart at the people bustling about. Families were taking advantage of a bakery on the opposite street. Several small children were running about with gooey confections in their hands as their mothers and fathers puddled around the store. A group of boys were kicking around what looked to be a giant spotted Quaffle in the middle of the street. It was a beautiful day, despite the cold and the clouds covering the sun. However, there was something curious about the corner of 21st street, a block over. Feather noticed that no matter who passed on the street, they all avoided that corner, particularly the young man standing there. He was dressed all in black and held a stack of papers in his hands. His trousers were cut above the ankles and his jacket were too small for him.

“Here you are, dear. One of the best wieners this side of the city!” The cheery chef handed her a hot dog piled high with caramelized onions and Feather’s chosen condiments.

“Thank you.” She handed him a wad of bills without counting them. He was nice enough so she was fine with overpaying him. “By the way, who is that?”

The chef followed her gaze to the corner of 21st Street and heaved a sigh. “He’s one of them Second Salem kids. Some group that thinks witches are overrunning the city.”

Feather choked, nearly spitting out her first bite of hot dog. “W-Witches?”

“I know, crazy right?” he said, shaking his head. “He and the other kiddos stand on that corner every day for at least five hours. Those poor kids. They definitely deserve better than old Mary Lou. Barely feeds them, I hear.”

“Oh my! That’s terrible,” she said, glancing at the boy on the corner. It was difficult to believe that he was on a vendetta against the Wizarding World. Being frightened of him was a ridiculous notion that she refused to entertain. Feather continued to watch him and nibbled on her hot dog thoughtfully. “Um, excuse me, sir?”

The chef paused in the middle of adding more onions onto the grill. “’Course, hon. What can I do for ya?”

“Do you think I could have another one of these?” She held her lunch aloft. “I’m willing to pay you more for it.”

A chuckle rumbled in the chef’s chest. “Darlin’, you’ve paid me more than enough. Don’t worry about it.” He handed her a fully made, steaming hot dog. “Be sure to wish that boy well from me too.”

Feather nodded her thanks (as she was busy stuffing her face) and made her way to 21st Street.

–

Up close, the young man was gaunter and more haggard than anyone she’d ever seen. His shoulders slumped so much that he looked like a modern Atlas bearing a crushing unseen weight. His back was to Feather as he wordlessly held out one of the papers to another passerby.

She mustered up her courage and gently tapped him on the shoulder. “Hello there.”

He spun around, his eyes wide with fear, the stack of papers clutched to his chest, his left hand extended toward her, palm out like a shield.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said softly, trying to catch his frightened eye. “I noticed you across the street and thought you might need some lunch.” She took his hand in her free one and placed the hot dog in it.

He blinked a few times, as if to assure himself that she wasn’t a figure of his imagination. The stack of papers fell to the floor as his other hand reached up to hold the hot dog as well. “Y-you didn’t have to…” he whispered, bowing his head. “I-I don’t e-even know you…”

“That’s all right,” she said, smiling at him. “I don’t know you either, but that’s not as important as having lunch.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on the young man’s lips. “T-Thank you. Most people aren’t so kind.”

“You’re welcome. Please, eat.”

He devoured the hot dog in a few bites, smearing mustard all over his mouth. Poor thing really hadn’t eaten a proper meal in ages.

Feather put her hands behind her back, flicked out her wand and conjured a handkerchief. She put her wand back into her sleeve and offered him the piece of cloth. He took it sheepishly and fiercely rubbed his lips and cheeks.

“Please, keep it,” Feather said as he tried to hand it back to her. “Did you like it?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “Best thing I’ve had all week.”

She tried not to cringe at his statement and reached down to pick up the fallen stack of papers. “I’m glad. It seems you’ve had quite the day.”

“It’s really not as good as it could be,” he said, taking the stack from her arms. “I can do better.”

“Well, try not to work too hard,” Feather said as she stood. “It’s a lovely day. You should go and enjoy it.” She glanced at her watch again. 2:15PM. “I’m so sorry, but I really must be going.”

He nodded, tucking the handkerchief into his pocket. “T-Thank you again. May your day be blessed, ma’am.”

“It was lovely to meet you.” Feather smiled and took his hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Feather, by the way.”

He grasped her hand as if he’d never let it go. “I’m Credence.”

CHAPTER 8

Three blocks and ten minutes later, Feather finally reached 24th Street. She could have kissed the concrete beneath her feet. The brownstones, wooden apartments, and steel balconies that lined the street were more than familiar to her. A rainbow of bicycles leaned lazily against the brick buildings while several motorcars stood at attention in front of them. An open-bed moving truck piled high with wooden crates was parked in front of an office building on the left. There weren’t many people about but those who were vaguely recognized the young witch. As she skipped to the edge of the pavement, a few older men tipped their hats to her and she waved back enthusiastically. She stopped in front of a particularly weathered brownstone with black iron letters nailed to the stone doorframe – 679. She was home.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her case. Once it was enlarged she climbed the stone steps and knocked (more like pounded) on the front door.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” called a muffled, angry voice from the opposite side of the door.

Feather burst into massive bout of the giggles as the door flew open to reveal a particularly miffed, dark skinned middle-aged woman with wild, frizzy black hair. When she and Feather made eye contact, her jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“Oh my stars! Fire Girl, is that you?!”

“The one and only, Mrs. Esposito!” Feather cried, dropping her case and raising her arms to embrace the Goldstein sisters’ landlady.

“Goodness, child!” Mrs. Caroline Esposito cried in kind, squeezing the young witch as hard as she could. “It’s been so long! Years!”

Feather pulled away put kept her arms around the older woman. “I know. And life has been so kind to you, darling. Look at how lovely you are!”

“You’re too sweet!” Mrs. Esposito flicked Feather’s nose and gave a hearty, belly laugh that shook the foundations of the brownstone around them. “Why in the world are you here? I thought you went home to finish training or whatever have you.”

The smile fell from Feather’s face. She pulled farther away from Mrs. Esposito until only the woman’s hands rested in hers. “’It’s been a rough few years, ma’am. Things…things didn’t work out as I’d planned…that’s why I’m here. To start over.”

The older woman pulled her into another embrace. “It’s going to be all right, child. You’re strong and brave and made of fire.”

“Thank you,” Feather whispered, blinking back tears. She hadn’t expected such kindness and encouragement; not after the many things she had seen and heard the past few months. After she dried her tears, Feather grabbed her case with one hand and squeezed Mrs. Esposito’s hand with the other. “Do you know if the Goldstein sisters are home?”

Mrs. Esposito hummed softly in thought. She briefly glanced behind her but no one appeared. “Well, dear, I saw Miss Tina leave early this morning but haven’t seen a bit of Miss Queenie all day.”

“Oh that’s all right,” Feather said, squinting up at the many grimy windows embedded in the building’s side. “I’m sure Queenie is just napping or something. And if she’s not…well, I’m sure they keep the spare key in the same place.”

Mrs. Esposito raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She merely stepped aside and allowed Feather to enter. The first-floor landing was narrow and quite tight. Two coat racks flanked the bottom of the winding stair case that led to the brownstone’s apartments. They were empty, save for an umbrella or two. A threadbare woolen rug with triangular patterns was spread out across the floor. A fresh layer of dust and grime coated everything in the room, no doubt the result of a week’s worth of traffic.

“I’m sure you remember what floor they’re on?” Mrs. Esposito asked, placing a hand on the banister of the stairs.

“Yes. Oh and this is for you.” Feather reached into her pocket and pulled out another wad of bills. “I’ll be here for about a month or so. Here’s my portion of the rent and, if there’s a bit too much, please put it towards Tina and Queenie’s payments.”

“Darlin’…you didn’t have to—“

“Please.” Feather placed the bills in the landlady’s hand and closed her fingers around them. “I insist.”

“You’re too good,” Mrs. Esposito said.

Feather shook her head and began climbing the stairs. “Not as good as you are, ma’am.”

–

Third floor, second door on the right. Such an unassuming thing, really, a scratched up wooden door with a squeaky brass hinge. To Feather, however, it was the portal to another world, a beautiful life that she never thought she could be a part of; yet, once she was inside, she would be. The Goldstein sisters gave her a home when she had none, and companionship when she was lonely. America was a cruel and terrifying place until the two witches showed her how vibrant and beautiful it could be. Now all that was left was to step through.

Feather slid her wand out of her sleeve. “Let’s see if you are home, Queenie dear.” She pointed it at the door’s brass knob. “Alohomora.” There was a tiny click as the lock slid out of place. “Yes. Definitely here, aren’t you, love?”

“Of course I am, honey!”

Feather nearly fell over as Queenie Goldstein’s beaming countenance appeared at the door. She was just as radiant as Feather remembered, a scintillating star of a witch. Her curly blonde locks were pulled away from her face by a pink headband and she wore a light nightdress and robe with black lace appliques. A pair of soft slippers graced her feet. She looked perfectly at home, not just in the apartment but in her own skin.

“You didn’t think I woulda left you to fend for yourself, did ya?” quipped Queenie, opening the door wide enough for Feather to step in.

“Of course not, darling,” Feather said, playfully pushing past her to remove her coat and place her case on the ground. “I thought you might just sleep through my whole visit.”

“Feather Rose, how sassy you’ve become!” Queenie shut the door just as Feather hung her coat on the nearby rack, and promptly spun the other witch around to face her. “Let me look at you. It’s been so long!”

Feather met Queenie’s hungry gaze and felt the blonde witch’s mind meld with hers. She did not fight Queenie’s invasion but, rather, welcomed it. For so long she’d spent hours explaining every thought, every emotion, every experience that she’d lived through to strangers and loved ones alike. It was a relief to have someone know her innermost secrets without having to utter a word. Without hesitation, she allowed Queenie to see the most significant (and painful) moments of the past three years. The memories flew through their minds like leaves on the wind, fluttering by quickly but pausing just enough to be noticed. By the end of their exchange, both witches were on the verge of tears.

“I-I…I-I…” Feather blubbered, unable to force her lips to form coherent words. “I…”

“Shhh.” Queenie murmured, taking Feather in her arms. “I know, honey. I’m so sorry.”

They held each other for a long while. It is so rare to find someone who is unselfishly willing to help bear your grief. Feather had spent the majority of three years grieving alone. Although, here and there others offered their shoulders to cry on and their ears to listen, their patience and understanding often ran dry very quickly. The same could never be said for Queenie Goldstein, at least according to Feather Firestone. Queenie was far too compassionate and understanding, the result of much reflection on her own personal tragedies. She once told Feather that being a Legilimens was more a blessing than a curse.

“Keeps me humble,” she said, matter-of-factly. “And reminds me that everyone’s always in need of a little love. That’s the important thing.”

As she clutched Queenie tighter, Feather realized what she had been searching for in the weeks since her hospitalization – someone to remind her that she was loved. She gladly melted into her friend’s embrace, finally allowing herself to release her pain and revel in the first loving contact she’d had in months; while Queenie stroked her hair, humming one of her mother’s favorite lullabies. When Feather’s sobs faded to light hiccups, Queenie drew back and held her friend’s face in her hands.

“I’m here, honey,” she said, brushing away the last of Feather’s tears. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. You’re safe. Tina and me. We’ll look after you.”

“I-I know.” Feather sniffled and gave Queenie a watery grin. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think so.” Before Queenie completely pulled away, Feather leaned over and lightly kissed her cheek. “Thank you. This is the lightest I’ve felt in ages.”

“You’re welcome,” Queenie said, dropping her hands. “Now, did you wanna freshen up? Mama’s couch is all ready for you.”

“Don’t think I can bathe on the couch,” Feather said, reaching down to pick up her case. With a skip in her step, she began walking towards said piece of furniture. “But I’m sure the shower in your bathroom will do.”

“Oh my Morrigan!” Queenie gasped, dramatically bringing a hand to her throat. “Well then I’ll have to try real hard not to keep ya waitin’!” With a wink, she Apparated to the bathroom.

“That’s not fair, Queenie!” Feather groaned as she heard the squeak of the shower knobs followed by a rush of water. “You have ten minutes before I pull you out of there!”

The only response was Queenie’s light humming and the metallic sound of the shower curtain drawing closed.

Feather rolled her eyes and set her case on the ground in front of Mrs. Goldstein’s couch. It was the original inspiration for Feather’s own teal couch at home. Of course, it was far older and more threadbare but it carried a charm and comfort her replica could never fully duplicate. The unassuming piece of furniture had survived several glittering dinner parties, storybook readings, and restless, tear-filled nights. Every crease and loose thread was a testament to its long history and resilience. It was also extremely comfortable and springy. One of the sisters (most likely Tina) had left two down pillows and a matching teal duvet atop the couch. Feather reached over to fold the duvet and found that someone else had made her ‘bed’ his own. Snuggled into the very back of the couch and snoring softly with his head tucked under his wing was Reginald.

“Reggie!” Feather whispered, giddy with excitement at seeing her little messenger boy.

Reginald didn’t stir but rather snored even more loudly than before.

Feather considered poking him a few times to see if he’d awaken, but decided against the idea, choosing instead to take a turn about the apartment.

Unlike the city outside, the Goldstein sisters’ abode was perpetually stuck in the early 20th century and hadn’t changed a bit since Feather’s last visit. It consisted of two rooms and one bathroom. The largest room was both the living and dining area with the Goldstein parents’ heirloom pieces of Victorian-style furniture – the china cabinets, the oak dining table and chairs, a worn, grey armchair, and, of course, the teal love seat – as its the centerpieces. To the right of the dining table was the old iron stove, complete with a tea kettle and a few pots and pans, a wooden tabletop that doubled as a cutting board, and a pink ceramic washbasin. Next to the couch stood the gaping marble fireplace that, at the moment, only sported a few glowing embers. The girls’ drying racks, currently empty of any washing, floated listlessly in front of it.

“It is a bit chilly in here…” Feather muttered and pointed her wand at the last smoldering pieces of wood in the dying fire. “Incendio.”

A tiny spark shot from the end of her wand into the embers. Soon enough a sizeable flame danced merrily inside the fireplace, spreading warmth throughout the apartment. Feather turned to make her way towards the girls’ shared bedroom and found that the sliding wooden pocket doors were tightly shut. After a moment, she realized she no longer heard rushing water nor Queenie’s lilting hum.

“Be out in a moment, hon!” the blonde witch called.

“Finally!” Feather smirked. “Your ten minutes were over a while ago!”

“Were not!”

“Were too!” Feather knelt in front of her case and opened it. She pulled out a bundle of clothes and toiletries before shutting it again. At the sound of one of the pocket doors sliding open, she looked up to see Queenie leaning nonchalantly against them, wearing the same outfit as before.

“I was wondering why those doors were closed,” Feather said as she stood with her bundle of things.

“It’s laundry day, honey,” Queenie said, tapping her wand to her still damp hair. Immediately, the soggy clump fluffed up into her signature curly bob, completely dry and slightly shimmering. “You know how that goes in this house.”

Behind Queenie, where the girls’ twin beds usually stood, were three very large tin tubs. One tub was filled to the brim with dirty laundry, a second warm water and soap for scrubbing, and the third clear water for rinsing. At Queenie’s command, an article of clothing (one of Tina’s white work blouses) rose from the first tub and plopped into the second to be furiously scrubbed. After scrubbing, it jumped into the third tub, rolled around a bit, and wrung itself dry. The blouse then floated to the living room and rested on one of the drying racks in front of the fire. The sisters’ laundry routine seemed fairly simple, except for one small thing.

Feather readjusted the bundle in her arms and stifled a laugh. She watched as Queenie summoned a midnight blue silk dress to go through the cycle. “I do remember, Miss Goldstein, and I am more than ready.”

“Oh Miss Firestone, I don’t think so.” Queenie’s bright blue eyes followed the dress as it floated out of the third bucket, still dripping profusely. “I already know you Apparatin’ is outta the question.”

“Then you’ll just have to catch me first!” Without hesitation, Feather ran to the bathroom, screaming as Queenie’s soaking wet dress came crashing down on her head.

Queenie’s tinkling laughter followed Feather until she shut the door of the bathroom none-too-gently. “Better luck next time, sweetheart!”

#fbawtft #fbawtft fanfiction #fantastic beasts and where to find them #queenie goldstein #credence barebone #fantastic reasons and where to find them

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