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fritae · 3 years

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The Missing Piece (Chapter 7)

Boundaries 💫

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x female oc, lov

status: ongoing

read this story on ao3

---

Dabi decides on an open-air Italian restaurant.

Before we could take our seats, I excuse myself.

His brows furrow. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I assure him. "I just need to use the bathroom."

Dabi nods.

But as soon as he's out of sight, I call for the waitress from near the entrance. The woman pleasantly smiles as she comes over.

"Hi, how can I help you today?"

"One second please," I say as I dig through my wallet. "I'm from table 6. Could you charge my card when we're done?"

She makes note of that and puts the pen in her apron. "Of course, miss."

I smile as my fingers find the blue Visa card.

But just as I'm about to hand it to her, I feel someone grab my arm.

My eyes widen.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dabi's eyes narrow.

"What?" I say. "I'm just giving her my card."

"I know. Who said you could do that?"

I pull my arm from his grip. "I don't need permission."

Dabi frowns and stands between us. "I'm the one that asked you for dinner."

I avert his gaze, feeling small under his eyes. "Okay, and? I want to pay."

"Rina-"

"Come on, don't argue with me on this. You bought coffee last time. It's my turn. Besides," I say with a small smile. "I just got my first paycheck. I want to celebrate."

Not to mention that it's thanks to him that I still have a paycheck!

Dabi sighs. "That's why we're at dinner. Who spends their first paycheck on their boss?"

"I'm not spending it on my boss," I correct. "I'm spending it on my friend."

Dabi's eyes widen for a moment, but the look on his face is gone just as fast.

He puts his hands in his pockets and rolls his eyes. "You sure you wanna spend your first paycheck on me?"

A grin spreads across my face. I reach over him and hand the waitress my card.

"Absolutely positive."

---

"How'd you even know where I went?" I ask him as we make our way back to the table.

"You looked like you were up to something."

I smile.

Of course.

Dabi's worked with hundreds of people over the years. He told me he was good at reading people before, but I didn't know how good.

Or maybe I've never gotten close enough to anyone to feel so seen.

He rolls up his sleeves when the food arrives. My heart warms as he puts the appetizers in front of me.

"Hey," I tease him. "Just because I'm paying doesn't mean you should eat less."

Dabi scoffs. "Who said I'm eating less? I'm going to make you regret paying," There's a devilish grin on his face as he says it. "I have pretty expensive taste."

I laugh.

We both know the money he sent me will be more than enough for a simple dinner.

Even if it was at a three-star Michelin restaurant.

---

The evening is spent in laughs and the type of conversation I was beginning to think only Dabi was capable of. Which feels weird, because I remember Toga telling me Dabi wasn't the type to talk often. Or smile, for that matter.

But every time I tell myself maybe I'm mistaken about who he is...

He reminds me of why I was drawn to him in the first place.

"How's work going so far," He asks me in between bites. "Any problems?"

"No, everything's great." I tell him truthfully. "It's such a fun experience, and I love hanging out with everyone when I'm done. And you don't ask for as much as I thought you would, to be honest. Having so much free time makes me feel like you're still doing a lot yourself."

Dabi shrugs. "There's a lot I gotta take care of personally. Although to be honest, you're just really efficient. You finish everything so quickly. I was worried this would be too much for you but looks like it's manageable."

"Yeah, yeah definitely." I steal a shrimp from his plate. "What I'm trying to say is you could give me more. I can handle it."

Dabi nods but doesn't comment.

"Also," I begin. Should I bring it up? I should, right? Especially with how well the evening's going. Maybe he'll trust me.

He motions for me to go on.

"There's something I actually wanted to talk to you about.." I lower my voice so no one could accidentally hear anything.

Dabi takes a sip from his coke. "You keeping things from me?"

"It's not that, I just," I sigh. "I don't know if it's my place." He looks up at me, but I notice a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

"I just-" I start to get nervous.

"Talk."

"Dabi, I'm talking to you as a friend right now. Not an employee. But I'm worried about you."

Confusion floods his face yet again. "Me? Why would you?"

Is he being serious?

"You know," I look down to his hands, as if that should explain everything. He follows my gaze. Cautiously, I touch them. When he doesn't flinch, I hold them more confidently. "The blood, Dabi. The times you behave...differently."

I don't know how to describe it to him. I don't even know if he's aware of himself when he arrives angry or irritated. Not that I know much about it either, of course. He always appears with a scowl and disregards everyone but the person or two that disappear with him into his office.

And he doesn't come out.

"That's nothing." Dabi replies. But his voice is colder than before. "Don't worry."

It sounds more like a command than an assurance.

"You promise there's nothing for me to worry about?"

There's the slightest bit of hesitation.

But his resolve immediately turns to steel.

"We agreed." He says instead. "Rina, this has nothing to do with you."

I suppose I should be thankful. He could have said it in a worse way.

"I know," I let go of his hands. I swallow, taking small bites from my plate to ease the sudden tension in the air. "I'm sorry sir. It's none of my business. I just wanted to be sure you were okay."

"I'm okay." His face is unreadable. "Not exactly someone you should be worrying about, Rina."

I don't know what he means by that. Does he mean it's not my place? Is it because I work for him now?

I shake the thoughts out of my head. It's not like he would have told me if I wasn't his secretary.

Maybe he means it really isn't anything to worry about.

But the amount of scenarios I can think up to explain the blood...

"Yes sir."

I hear the clink of glass as Dabi starts eating again. "You regret treating me tonight yet?"

"No sir," I give him a soft smile. "That's not related to this at all."

He smiles too.

But I regret the wall I suddenly put between us.

---

"Thank you for the excellent service," I wave at the waitress. She seems baffled. "No, thank you for the tip, I don't even know what to say! Please come again!"

I feel warm as I leave the restaurant.

It may have been a big tip, but knowing it made her day makes me smile.

After all, the opportunity to work at the Blaze came unexpectedly. Least I could do is pass on some of my happiness to others.

"That was a lot," Dabi comments, watching the waitress' reaction through the glass. She was talking to some of the other employees and pointed our way, a huge smile on her face. "Even for a Michelin restaurant."

"Yeah but look at her," I smile. "She looks so happy."

Dabi shrugs and keeps walking.

I walk beside him, unsure of what to say. He's been much more quiet since I brought up the blood. The thought of him possibly treating me the way he treats the other workers fills my gut with more worry. Dabi's treated me so well till now because of our prior connection. And all he asked of me in response was to give him space and keep my lips sealed.

He's probably thinking about how he couldn't even trust me with that.

But before I can ask, I hear someone shout, "Rina!"

Dabi and I stop.

I turn around just in time to see a familiar someone throw their arms around me.

"Aliyah!" My eyes widen.

We've barely seen each other since I left NNTV. Occasionally, we'll get to have breakfast together before work. But she spends so much time in the NNTV studio, and I've increasingly been staying late at the Blaze, so even that was becoming a rarity.

"What are you doing here!" I ask her incredulously.

"We had a company dinner!" She exclaims. "You want to come say hi? Everyone will be so happy to see you!"

But I get a bad feeling in my stomach.

And as I look behind her, I find Mr. Lane watching me with narrowed eyes.

Uh oh.

#dabi angst #dabi fanfic #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x oc #dabi x female reader #dabi fluff #dabi headcanons #dabi x reader #touya x y/n #bnha dabi #bnha fanfiction #mha #bnha

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cynicallystiles · 3 years

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Seasons of Love: The One with How They Met

Disclaimer: Moodboard made by me. Pictures found on Google!

Author: @cynicallystiles

Request: @itrocksmysocks basically requested this by making me obsessed with the triplets a year ago.

Warning: Swearing maybe.

Notes: The long awaited series is here! The whole thing still isn’t finished ahead of time like I wanted. So, we’ll see if I actually stay on schedule with this one. Credit to @thotmendes for imagining the triplets into existence about a year ago! Thanks for your patience! Please COMMENT/REBLOG if you enjoy it!

Pairing: Kallie Hayes (OC) x Mendes Triplets

Masterlist Series Masterlist

SOL Teaser Chapter Two

Words: ~3.5k

Anais Nin once said, "Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."

The first encounter Kallie had with the triplets was a memorable one. This could be because she didn't know they were triplets. She had just moved to town with her family and started her first day in the middle of October.

Kallie was just eight or nine years old, but she was nervous about starting a new school way behind the other kids. Once her parents dropped her off with the principal, she was led to a small classroom. The teacher smiled brightly as he welcomed her in.

"Hello! It's very nice to meet you..." he trailed off, expecting her to reply. Her gaze was anxiously flitting around to all the other students staring at her curiously. So, he cleared his throat.

With a slight jump, she whipped her head back to him. "Kallie, sir." She held out her little hand and gave him a firm shake. Well, as firm as an eight-year-old could give an old person with hands the size of baseball gloves.

"You're very polite! I can't wait to meet your parents," he beamed at her, not noticing the small flinch of her eye. Things don't always go nicely when her parents come to school. It's why she's always on her best behavior. "Well, I'm Mr. Flannigan."

He stood up straight and turned toward the class with a smile that was bright against his tan skin. "Class...this is Kalliope Hayes." So, he already knew her full name before she came into the room?

There was a pause as the students ceremoniously said, "Hi, Kalliope!"

Mr. Flannigan nodded as if the response was what he wanted. "Kalliope, why don't you tell us three fun things about yourself, and then we'll go into the lesson plan for today?"

Funny. He phrased it as if it were a question. But, when adults ask questions like that, they're more likely strong suggestions. So, she took one step forward and cleared her throat.

"Hi," she squeaked out. "My full name is Kalliope but I like Kallie better. Three things about me are..." She stalled a moment, forgetting every single fun thing about her. "Uh...I like bike riding...I'm really good at holding my breath!...and...I've never ice skated?"

Her green eyes look up to the teacher for approval as everyone claps politely. He's about to point to her seat when a small voice cuts him off. "How long??"

"Huh?" She asks as she scans the other kids for the voice.

The boy in the last row, second from her right and wearing a forest green hoodie peers past the rest of the students. "You said you're really good at holding your breath! How long?"

"Um, like, thirty-five seconds? I think," she responds uncertainly. It's been a while since the last time she had her sister time her. His brown eyes stare at her for a moment longer.

Then, he nods. "Nice." He grins at her in approval. She smiles a little wider in response and Mr. Flannigan tells her to take the only open seat left.

She walks toward the back, finding the open seat next to the kid who had questioned her breath-holding skills. As Mr. Flannigan starts the lesson plan, the boy leans over and offers his hand.

"I'm Shawn!" The eagerness of his voice makes her relax. Maybe she just made her first friend here. She takes his hand and shakes it a little. "Let's make up a secret handshake later at recess, okay?" She nods enthusiastically before they turn forward in their seats to pay attention.

Later at recess, Shawn and Kallie are standing under one of the shady trees on the playground, mixing an unnecessary amount of steps to their secret friendship handshake.

"Hey, Shawn! Come play tag!" Some other kids begin to call him to play games with them.

He looks over at Kallie. "Wanna come play?"

"No, thanks," she shakes her head causing her light brown hair to rustle in the wind, "I don't really like tag." He shrugs and squints at her a little, but accepts her answer before running off to join the game.

She decides to take a stroll along the fence to see if she could find some cool rocks to take home for the new garden her parents were gonna plant. As she does, she sees a boy crouched down with his hands cupped around something. He's wearing a jean jacket over his white T-shirt.

As she approaches, she calls out excitedly, "Watchya got in your hand?" The boy startles, his hands opening to let a frog jump out. He hurriedly reaches out and catches it again as Kallie takes a step back. She notes how carefully he cups his hand around it.

"A frog," he says plainly and he sounds slightly similar to...who does he sound like?

Her face contorts in minor disgust. "Why?" Is all she asks. When he turns to look at her, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "I thought you went to play tag!"

"What?" He asks in genuine ignorance.

She looks him over and her brows come even closer together. "How did you change your clothes so fast, Shawn?"

"I'm not Shawn," he rolls his eyes with a sigh.

"What do you mean? You said your name was Shawn in class today," she reminds him.

He silently sticks his tiny closed fist through the fence to release the frog toward its home. Standing up, he wipes his hand on his jeans. "That's my brother. I'm Raul." He sticks out his frog contaminated hand.

"Oh, so you're like twins?" She swallows her squeamishness and shakes his hand quickly, then wipes it on the back of her shorts.

He shrugs. "You could say that." With that, he walks past her without another word. She turns and watches him run to another group of kids who are playing on the monkey bars.

She heads back to the tree, collapsing against its bark to enjoy the rest of recess. Her relaxing doesn't last long as something drops into her lap from above. "Ow!" She exclaims and opens her eyes to find a notebook in her lap.

"Sorry!" A voice calls out from above. She looks up quickly and finds an increasingly familiar face looking down at her.

His puppy dog eyes match his apologetic smile. Kallie sighs deeply. "Now, when did you get up there??" She was seriously starting to think she'd never woken up this morning.

"I've been here all recess!" He replies with an adorable smile. "Can you hand that back to me?" He asks, laying on his stomach to reach down.

She stands, stretching on her tiptoes to hand it back. Kallie then sees that he's wearing neither a green hoodie nor a jean jacket. Instead, he's wearing a blue, plaid button-up shirt. She frowns. "Don't tell me there's another one of you?"

"Huh?" He quirks his eyebrow for a moment. "Oh! You mean my brothers! Shawn and Raul?" She nods, but in her mind, she hopes it stops at three. Already, she could tell she'd never be able to tell them apart. "I'm Peter!"

"Why are you in a tree with a notebook?"

"It keeps me from getting hit by the dodgeballs while I'm trying to draw." He scrunches up his face like it's obvious. "Duh," he adds on.

The apparent obviousness of the statement makes her giggle. "What are you drawing?" She asks curiously.

He pauses for a long moment, sizing her up. Then, an adorable grin spreads across his lips. "Climb up here, and I'll show you," he half-invites, half-challenges her.

"Okay!" Without hesitation, she rolls the sleeves up on her Princess Belle shirt and scales the tree with only minimal effort.

Peter watches her settle in on the branch next to him in awe. "That was really fast!"

"Thanks!" She beams at him. "My sister can't climb so when she chases me with gross stuff I had to find somewhere to hide," she informs him happily.

He laughs and scoots next to her as he opens his notebook across both of their laps. Slowly, he flips through the pages to show her the different drawings. "These are really good!" She compliments him.

"Really?" He asks shyly. Kallie nods vigorously and continues to marvel at the sketches. Peter smiles and watches her admire his work for a few minutes more.

But, they're not alone for much longer. "Kallie? Where'd you go?" She looks over the notebook below them. Shawn is looking around the base of the tree.

"Up here!" She giggles. His head turns toward the sound of her voice. "Peter was showing me some drawings!"

Shawn covers the urge to frown with a bright smile. "Come down! We gotta finish our super-secret handshake before recess is over," he reminds her.

"One second!" She calls down and turns to Peter. "I gotta go. Thanks for letting me see your notebook!" Then, she carefully climbs down the tree.

Once she hops onto the ground, Shawn slings an arm around her shoulders as he leads her away. "Our handshake is gonna be so awesome! And it'll be just for us! You know what else? You can come with me and my family to our lake house to ice skate in the winter since you've never been!" He chatters happily as he leads her further away from Peter.

From that day on, the two of them were inseparable. That day was the first time the boys had gotten jealous or competitive over Kallie. But, it wasn't the last.

It was disorienting at first, never knowing who was who. Except for Shawn, of course. Kallie could always tell which one was Shawn because out of the three, those two were the ones joined at the hip. Not to say that she didn't grow close with the rest of the boys. Just that Shawn was who she was close with first.

Throughout the years, they were like the Four Musketeers. Getting into all kinds of trouble and mischief. They enjoyed the best of their times throughout the year at the Mendes' cabin in the Muskoka Lake District. Since the very first year they became friends, their parents were kind enough to bring her along on all of their little trips.

Occasionally, her parents and sister came along. Which was nice because a majority of the other parents didn't take kindly to hers. She loved that they were so kind and included them in their trips. That cabin became like a lifeline to them as the years wore on.

They shared every holiday, celebrated every event, and recovered from unexpected hard times at that cabin. Christmas time? They went to the cabin. Someone's birthday? The cabin was there. The worst time of their lives? The cabin saw that too.

The four of them could never imagine not having that cabin, or each other to get through life. Which is why it hurt all the more when they got the news. After graduating high school, the four of them went on to university. Together.

While they all had different majors, it was hard to find time for each other at first. So, they made it a rule to have dinner every Saturday night at one of their dorms. Rotating between them as hosts to the gathering. Which became easier when they all moved in together after the first two years of having to live in the dorms. They were now coming off of their third year of university with one left to go.

As the four of them piled into Shawn's Jeep for the trip home with their bags stuffed in the back, excitement floated through the air to finally be able to relax for a time before heading back to Toronto for the most important year of schoolwork.

"Shotgun!" Kallie, Peter, and Raul call at the same time as they race toward the front seat.

The three slam into the side of the vehicle with laughter. Looking to Shawn to be the referee, he rolls his eyes. "Kallie got there first," he chuckles.

"C'mon!" Peter groans.

"You always let her have it," Raul mumbles as he slides into the backseat.

"My Jeep, my rules," Shawn shrugs and buckles into the driver's seat with a chuckle.

Kallie happily hops into the front seat, smiling at Shawn before turning to grab her seatbelt. "Thank you!" As she buckles it, she exchanges a secret glance with Shawn and he winks at her.

"Anytime," he responds as she bites her bottom lip to contain her laugh.

With that, the four set off toward home. Well, more like toward the cabin. They were planning on stopping at their houses to see their families first and then spend the rest of the summer in Muskoka.

Half an hour later, the boys drop Kallie off at her parents' house before heading down the street to theirs. "Dinner at ours at six?" Peter confirms as she grabs her bags out of the back.

"Mhm," she replies and walks around to his window, while Raul gets out and gets in the front seat. "And then breakfast at mine at ten tomorrow?"

He nods with a grin. "We'll be here!" She mumbles a 'perfect' and leans through the window to kiss his cheek and he kisses hers at the same time, something they've gotten in the habit of doing when they part ways. Shawn shifts his grip on the steering wheel as he watches them in the mirror.

"See you tonight!" Raul calls as his eyes trail after her, lower than they should be when she disappears into her house. Shawn reaches over and slaps the back of his head. "Ow!!" He rubs the new sore spot with a chuckle as Shawn pulls away from the curb.

Later, as promised, she enters the Mendes household as if she lives there. She's right on time for dinner, but it's unusually quiet around the house. "Hello?"

"In here!" Someone calls after a long moment of silence.

Kallie makes her way into the living room where the brothers are seated on the couch. "Hey! What's going on? Why is it so quiet?" She questions as she sits in between Shawn and Peter's legs, stretching her own across Peter's lap and resting her feet in Raul's.

"Mom has news," Shawn says surprisingly seriously. It's then that Kallie notices the shock on their faces and that Karen is sitting in one of the other chairs.

She leans her torso back into Shawn and shrugs. "What is it? Bad news?" They nod and she looks at Karen as she takes a deep breath.

"Well, sweetie," she begins sweetly. "As I've just finished telling the boys..." she pauses, gathering the strength to tell her. "We've decided to sell the cabin."

Kallie's expression falls into the same shock that the boys wear and she feels like her whole body goes numb. "Wh-no. H-how...why-no!" She finally stutters out.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I know how much that cabin means to you all," she sighs. "But...we just can't afford to keep up with it year-round anymore. Especially, since we haven't been back since you all were in high school."

Her eyebrows furrow together in confusion. "Wha..." she breathes out, unable to think straight. To stop her mind from spinning, she focuses on the things around her.

Like the feel of Shawn's heartbeat against her back and the rhythm of his breathing. Like the goosebumps on her legs caused by Peter lightly tracing his fingers over her knees. Like the cold metal of Raul's rings as he squeezes her ankles comfortingly.

"When are you selling it?" Raul asks, taking charge of the situation. It's something he tends to do as the oldest of the three brothers. When things get tough, he steps in to steady everyone.

Karen shrugs. "We haven't found a buyer yet."

"Well," he sighs. "Then, we're still gonna go out for the summer. And every chance we get until you sell it. We can clean and pack up stuff along the way."

She smiles gratefully at him. "Thank you, honey. I hope you all enjoy the summer there...you deserve it before your last year at university!" She smiles, the tension slightly diffused but not dissipated. "Dinner will be ready soon."

Then, she silently heads to the kitchen to leave the four of them alone. Kallie shifts her body to stand up and face the boys. One hand goes to her hip as her eyes train on the carpet. With the other, she pushes some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna..." she trails off, not having any words. "I'll be outside," she whispers and immediately exits the room.

Shawn leans forward to stand up. "I'll get her-"

"No. Lemme handle it," Raul interrupts and follows her without another word.

Sitting back down defeatedly, Shawn looks at Peter. "The hell was that about? Thought I was her best friend..." he grumbles.

"We're all best friends," Peter reminds him. "Besides...they have been closer since the twelfth grade." He shrugs and pulls his sketchbook out of his bag.

Shawn's brows crease together and then rise on his forehead. "You don't think they're-" He stops himself short because he doesn't even want to go there.

"What?" Peter looks up from the sketch he's working on. His face falls flat when he sees Shawn's panicked look. "Oh my god! They're not. Raul isn't even Kallie's type," he scoffs and focuses on the bright green irises he's drawing, only slightly concerned that Shawn may be right.

Shawn twists his features into an offended sort of confusion. "Her type? We all have the same face!"

"Yeah, but none of us are dating her...are we?" Peter scoffs dismissively.

"No," Shawn grumbles as he sinks further into the couch and crosses his arms grumpily.

Raul steps out onto the porch, barely squinting his eyes at the now-setting sun. Kallie's ash brown hair catches the light stunningly, almost as if it were milk chocolate silk. The red undertones give her hair a cinnamon-like shine you can only see under the sun. He sits next to her on the top step as she hugs her knees to her chest and rests her chin there.

He doesn't say anything as he leans back, letting his palms press into the wood. Time ticks by and he doesn't talk. She doesn't talk. Her body just slowly tips toward Raul until she's collapsed into his side. He feels her sigh heavily and he scoots closer to circle his arm around her waist.

"This isn't the end of the world," he promises like he always does when she gets like this. She huffs, annoyed that he seems to always downplay her sadness at first. "I'm serious."

She sits up, turning on the step to stare at him direly. "Oh, are you? I couldn't tell," she deadpans. "I know it's not the end of the world, Raul...that doesn't mean this all still doesn't suck," she murmurs as her hands move to her words.

"Life's allowed to suck," he chuckles. She watches the light dance in his hazel eyes and sighs. "You're even allowed to wallow about it," he continues.

She throws herself into his lap dramatically. "Then, let me wallowwww," she whines playfully. He rests his arm across her torso.

"But-"

"No...no buts," she begs as she turns her face into his stomach to hide. She curls her legs up until she's almost in a ball on her side.

Raul gently strokes her back. "But," he says pointedly, "you're not allowed to wallow forever. Eventually, you have to pull on your big girl pants and show life who it's messing with."

"You're so lame," she laughs and ventures a peek up at him.

He tilts his head and smiles smugly. "Got you to laugh didn't I?" She nods slightly. "I know how much the cabin means to you. It means that much to all of us," he soothes her.

"I somehow always forget that you guys feel it too," she whispers.

Raul moves his hand to brush her hair out of her face. "I'll make you a deal," he begins. Her attention peaks because he always offers her the same deal and she'd never pass it up. No matter what it is. "Suck it up for now. You can wallow when the place is actually sold."

"What do I get for pulling on my big girl pants?" She challenges.

He scrunches up his face in obvious sarcasm. "What do you always get?"

"Prom night?" She replies hopefully.

"Prom night," he confirms mischievously.

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lol-im-done · 3 years

Text

Malediction (George Weasley X OC)

https://www.wattpad.com/987805394-malediction-chapter-1-intro Hello! This is Chapter 1, I will also be updating this story on Wattpad!

Reyna Anathema Tempestas. Running her finger over her middle name that was embossed on her leather journal she thought about her strange name. Anathema, it was Latin for ‘curse’ or ‘cursed thing’, it was a family name from her mothers side but only certain family members inherited it. It was a peculiarity that often floated in her mind as she rode the Hogwarts Express, why she was bestowed with this name and not her younger sister Helena who napped beside her on the soft seats. Staring outside of the window at the beautiful landscape she smiled at the sight of her school in the distance, it was her final year and in turning seventeen it felt like everything was coming together. The moment she blew out the candles on her birthday cake she felt something shift inside her. The slowing, creaking sound of the train brakes awoke Helena who began to wake and made their owls chirp noisily.

“Ready?” Reyna asked as she stood up, cracking her joints. Helena nodded as they readied their luggage, and two owls. Reyna made sure to adjust Helena’s robes before carefully bringing down her new broom still in its wrapping.

“Hey Reyna!” Cho Chang waved through the sliding door. Reyna waved at her friend with a smile before opening the door.

“Still half asleep Helena?” Cho asked in her soft Scottish voice, Helena grumbled an unintelligible response as she made her way out to find her friends at the carriages. Reyna gave Cho an apologetic look but she simply laughed.

“How was your ride Cho? Still getting googly eyes from Potter?” Reyna smirked as she carried her belongings alongside Cho out of the train. The cool air blew tresses of Reyna’s black hair into her face making her shake like a dog trying to dry itself.

“Stop teasing Reyna,” Cho blushed but her attention was caught by something else.

“Looks like someone has googly eyes for you,” Cho whispered. Reyna followed Cho’s eyes and tried turning her head as discreetly as she could. All she could see was a gaggle of Hufflepuff girls and a tall red headed Gryffindor nearby. Rolling her dark brown eyes she turned back to Cho.

“Get your eyes checked Cho, no one is looking at me,” Reyna retorted as they began piling into a carriage with other Ravenclaws.

“Is that your new broom?” Luna Lovegood asked, not even taking her eyes off of her magazine.

“Good eyes Lovegood. It is, maybe you can put those eyes to use and join our Quidditch team,” Reyna replied. Reyna had been trying to recruit Luna for ages but she refused to budge.

“Not likely,” Luna smiled. Reyna smiled as well, she enjoyed her conversations with Luna, no matter if everyone else thought Luna was odd.

“Roger is going to name you lead Chaser again,” Cho said as the carriage went through the forest following the long line.

“He better if he wants us to keep scoring,” Reyna jokes. “Speaking of Roger, did he ask you out?” Reyna asked, lowering her voice. Cho averted her eyes but nodded.

“I told him it was too soon,” Reyna shook her head, she had known Roger Davies since her first year becoming close friends quickly. She had also gotten close to Cho through Quidditch even if they weren’t in the same year. She had been there for her after Cedric Diggory’s death. Reyna’s stomach turned slightly at the memory of Cedric’s dead body that night in the maze. Never had she seen death so closely it had made her nauseous as she covered a young Helena’s eyes to shield her from it.

“Well maybe you’ll have some luck in the romance department this year,” Cho said optimistically.

“No romance for me this year. I’m focusing on my OWLs and on Quidditch. Then I’m going to graduate and apply at the Ministry,” Reyna swore, crossing her arms. But as the words left her mouth a pit formed in her stomach. These were increasingly dark times but as her mother had told her before she left- all would be well. Holding those words close to her heart Reyna stepped off the carriage with hope.

The next day was full of energy and excitement as students buzzed around finding their classes, greeting their friends. Even if Dolores Umbridge had left a sour taste in everyone's mouth after her speech at dinner last night, Reyna wasn’t going to let her ruin her last year. The low chatter of students filled the spacious classroom as candles flickered in the air sending a warm glow throughout. The pile of books in her arms distracted Reyna from the figure already seated at her usual table. George Weasley was ripped from his thoughts of a new potion for his shop by a thud. Looking over he saw a familiar Ravenclaw sit down with a sigh, stretching her arms, clearly sore from carrying the books. Some looked older, varying titles about History and Spells and some he had never heard of before.

“Morning,” George drawled, turning to face Reyna. His deep voice startled her, her dark eyes widening in recognition of the Weasley twin in front of her.

“Hello George!” Reyna smiled brightly, settling into the seat next to him.

“How's your arm?” George asked, eyeing her right arm. Last term in a match against Slytherin he had seen her get squished between two Chasers, her cry of pain resounding through the pitch as her arm twisted harshly being pulled from its socket.

“Better,” she grimaced, rubbing it slightly. “The team was a bit disappointed I had to miss the following match,” she said.

“That’s because you’re the best Chaser on the team,” George smirked.

“High praise from a Beater,” Reyna smirked back. She knew George Weasley from Quidditch matches mostly, seen him around here and there but this was her first class with him. Then it hit her, his twin was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Fred?” Reyna asked, looking around.

“McGonogal wanted us to have at least one class this year apart,” George frowned slightly.

“So you chose Advanced Literature?” she asked, head tilted in question. Reyna had never seen him in any of her literature studies classes, the course mostly filled with Ravenclaws.

“It was the only elective that didn’t sound too bad,” George shrugged.

“Well I promise you’ll love it and if you ever need help you just need ask,” she smiled, making George grin back before Professor McGonogal began to speak at the front of the class. Even as McGonogal went on with her lecture, George couldn’t help sneaking glances at Reyna. She had changed since last term, her raven hair had grown longer, her skin had a bronze tint to its usual olive color as if she’d spent all summer flying her broom. But she still had the usual glint in her eye, the natural rosy shade across her cheeks. Her outward appearance made her look like the usual shy studious Ravenclaw but George wasn’t fooled, he had seen Reyna out on the pitch. She was ruthless and not afraid to be adventurous on the broom to score her team points. Finally class was over and George found himself walking out with Reyna.

“What's that book you got there?” George asked, pointing to a small one on the top of her pile. Reyna glanced around a bit nervously.

“Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte,” she replied, showing him the book but he drew a blank. “It's a muggle book,” Reyna laughed.

“I’ve never read a muggle book before,” George chuckled.

“If you want you can borrow it, it's my personal copy,” she offered. George cocked his head, hesitation and confusion on his face. Reyna took his hesitation as rejection so she quickly retracted her hand.

“Oh! Sorry no- I mean yes I’d love to borrow it,” George said quickly, taking the book from her hand and before she could say anything she caught someone's eye across the courtyard.

“I’ll see you later! Roger!” Reyna called out as she pushed past the students to catch up to Roger. George watched on in interest before looking down at the book, no one had ever offered him a book like this for him to read before. Suddenly Fred crashed into his twin, wrapping an arm around him.

“Whatcha lookin at?” Fred asked, following George’s gaze out towards the courtyard where Reyna and Roger were discussing the next match, an intense look on both of their faces.

“Do you know if they have a thing going on?” George asked as innocently as he could muster.

“Davies and Tempestas? Nah, I heard he’s more interested in Chang these days. Anyways they’ve known each other since first year and nothing's come of it,” Fred explained nonchalantly, he was quite the gossip. A moment passed before the light bulb turned on in Fred’s brain. “Wait, are you interested in Reyna?” Fred questioned, dragging George along.

“No!” George defended with a shake of his head as he tucked the small book under his arm.

“Why not? She’s pretty, hell of a Chaser and if you look past being a Ravenclaw she’s the whole package,” Fred joked. George elbowed him softly in the stomach making Fred clutch it dramatically.

“Come on Freddy I’m starving,” George said.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x oc #weasley #harry potter #order of the phoenix

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redvoid-40 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 10: Forest of Death

Hello everyone! I’m going with a new chapter of my Gaara fic today. Lately my attentions have shifted to the Tales of Arcadia fandom, but I already had this chapter ready so I thought it would be nice to post it. :)

Hope you all enjoy it! For more Gaara content check my masterlist in my profile. :D

Fanfic title: ??? Word count: 2800 Fandom: Naruto Pairing: eventual Gaara x OC, cannon pairings Genre: Friendship, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: None

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Team Rashu were barely on their feet when kunais and shuriken flew their way. Aoni grabbed her brother by the collar and dropped to the ground with him as Shin took the kunai from her pouch and used it to defend herself from the attack before jumping down after her teammates.

“Shin?” Aoni called out, sword in hand.

“They’re coming. The three of them.”

And so they did. Three Genin from Takigakure landed right in front of them with eerie grins on their faces. They all were older boys - around 16 years old if Shin had to guess - and wore the same black overalls that covered them from neck to ankle. One of them had blonde hair and a mocking smile on his face, the other two had spiky black hair. One of the black-haired Nin was rather short for his age, and the second had a scar that ran from his nose to his left cheek.

“Who would’ve guessed? The mighty Meguyutas showed up to play! We were very surprised seeing you two at the inscriptions, you know? Not like your family to mingle with the riffraff.” The blonde Nin taunted.

“Don’t be absurd. We’d never mingle with trash like you.” Aoni answered with a haughty smile. “You’re just something we have to kick out of the way to keep going.”

Shin’s eyes widened at her friend’s poisonous reply. She knew Aoni wasn’t low on self-esteem in any way - some people would go as far as calling her arrogant, but Shin knew better; Hajii and her were raised to become the very best in everything, and that began with believing they were - but she had never expected such words from her. While the siblings might’ve grown in a world of luxuries and high-standards very unlike her own, they had always been nice to her and her family; never once making her feel less because of their different… incomes.

“You’re the trash here!” The short one exploded. “Always looking down on the rest of us because of your money!”

“It’s not because of the money.” Hajji replied cheerfully. “It’s because you’re all so incapable of being anything other than mediocre.”

Shin’s eyes widened even further. Their niceness, it seemed, didn’t extend to just anyone.

“We’ll show you mediocre!”

As one, the three Taki-Nin charged. The smaller one went for Aoni, most likely believing she’d be the weaker link just because she was “the rich girl”. It was clear he didn’t expect her to parry the blow with her sword as easily as she did, quickly taking the offensive.

The blonde one went after Shin, who dodged just in time to counter with a well-aimed kick to the stomach.

And the last one, the one with a scar who hadn’t said a word to them yet, went after Hajii. He didn’t begin small as his teammates did, though.

He performed hand signs so quickly Shin could barely pinpoint his Jutsu before he started spitting fireballs at Hajii, who barely dodged them all without losing an arm. Just as he was about to catch his bearings, the Taki-Nin cut through his Jutsu’s smoke and cornered the boy against a large tree.

Shin faltered and clumsily blocked a fist flying her way as she watched Hajii receive a knee to the stomach, making him cough out blood all over his adversary.

Now. It has to be now.

The girl turned her attention back to her adversary and barreled him with blow after blow after blow. She didn’t worry so much about making contact; she just needed to distract him enough to perform a Clone Jutsu combed with a Substitution Jutsu to get away to help Hajii.

Her opportunity came when the blonde had to use both arms to block a particular violent roundhouse kick to the face. When he had no sight of her Shin quickly summoned a poorly-made clone in her place before charging towards the scarred Taki-Nin.

That was the cue for Aoni and Hajii.

As clockwork, Team Rashu performed a dance of chairs with their enemies.

Hajii used the blood that was staining his adversary’s clothes to make one of his Chakra Creatures. In a moment’s notice, his blood took the shape of a dragonfly and flew towards the Taki-Nin’s face. While he was busy trying to shake off the creature, Hajii crouched and jumped towards his sister.

When Aoni saw Shin move she parried the short Ninja’s blow and sprinted away from him, towards the Ninja fighting against Shin’s clone. Just as the clone puffed out of existence she appeared. The muscles in her right arm grew in size and her skin turned a dark gray colour as she raised it in the air. The blonde Taki-Nin barely had the time to understand what had happened before Aoni slammed the pommel of her Dai sword against his cheekbone, making him fly across the clearing and promptly pass out.

Hajii performed hand signs as he flew towards the short Ninja, and when his feet slammed the ground just behind his opponent’s back, so did his hands.

“Doton: Golem Technique!”

The ground behind the short Ninja’s parted as rocks pushed their way through it, taking the shape of a Golem. The creature had only its upper body formed, but it still stood taller than any of them.

The Golem encircled the enemy with large, heavy arms, trapping him with his arms by its side. The short Ninja could only watch helplessly as the pommel of Hajii’s kunai flew towards his face; once, twice, three times, until he was unconscious.

Shin closed in her own adversary quickly. The boy was still trying to wave off Hajii’s chakra creature, and she took that opportunity to deliver a low hook punch to his stomach. As soon as her fist hit him, the scarred Ninja disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Shin was surprised for a moment, but recomposed herself when she felt the boy’s chakra move somewhere by her right. She quickly grabbed her kunai and raised in front of her face, just in time to block an attack. Their eyes met for a moment and Shin couldn’t help but smile when she felt his chakra brush against her own.

Without even realizing it, Shin reached out with her left hand and grabbed the boy’s wrist in a bone-crushing grip, eager to have his life energy as close as possible. Her movement was pure instinct, as fast as a reflex, so the boy could only widen his eyes in pain and surprise.

And when he felt something literally pull on his chakra, he felt fear. The scarred Ninja tried to pull his arm away, but Shin’s grip didn’t let go.

“Just a bit more, please.”

The girl seemed to plead with him in a whisper, and when his eyes flew to the girl’s face he found her pupils blown wide, darkening the hazel of her irises with hunger. That dazed expression made shivers run down his spine, but he was experienced enough to push down his fear and take advantage of the situation. The girl was in some high at the moment - high from sucking his life force right out of his body -; it was his chance to attack.

Without hesitation he drove his kunai into the girl’s left shoulder, driving it deep enough to hit her bone.

The boy smirked as a scream tore out of the girl’s mouth, and the pain made her fall to her knees. However, his satisfaction was short-lived when he felt her pull him down with her.

Despite having a kunai 3 inches deep into her flesh, Shin hadn’t let go of him and she hadn’t stopped draining his chakra. She was like a rabid dog who had got its diseased jaws into its prey and refused to let go.

When she glared up at him her eyes were no longer dark with that strange hunger. They were attentive, and her irises seemed lighter somehow, almost yellow.

“What the-”

Before he could say anything else, Shin raised the hand with her kunai high in the air, making him pull his kunai back to protect his face and neck from her attack.

However, there was no contact between their weapons. Instead, pain exploded on his left foot as the girl speared her weapon through it, until only the pommel remained free of his flesh.

The boy opened his mouth to scream, but before any sound could leave his lips Shin concentrated her chakra on her left leg and rotated her body as that leg shot out, delivering a powerful kick to the Ninja’s face with the back of her foot. If it wasn’t for the kunai spearing the Scarred Ninja’s foot into the ground, he would’ve flown across the clearing, much like his teammate had done some only moments before.

Still, despite lacking Aoni’s flourish, Shin had knocked out her opponent out cold with her kick.

Breathing hard, Shin laid her palms on her knees, taking a moment to regain her bearings. The remaining of the boy’s chakra quickly left her, returning her eyes to their usual hazel hue.

“I think you killed him, Shin-chan.” Hajii said, approaching her alongside his sister.

Breathing hard, Shin stared down at the unconscious Genin in front of her and couldn’t help but flinch at the large purple bruise already spreading out on his face. It looked bad, and Shin had no doubts she had broken the boy’s nose with that kick, and maybe left a crack on his skull. She just hoped there was no internal bleeding in there.

I didn’t mean to use so much chakra on that kick. His chakra flew inside me and then… there was so much extra energy. It was like a dam breaking. It overflew.

“It was an accident.” Shin spoke, feeling increasingly guilty the longer she stared at the beaten boy in front of her. “W-We need to get him medical attention.”

Hajii and Aoni exchanged a glance.

“I don’t think that’s possible, Shin-chan.” Aoni spoke. “Look, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Let’s tie them up and leave them somewhere safe so none of the creatures here get them, alright? I’m sure one of his teammates will wake up soon and get him help.”

“Yes.” Hajii agreed, raising a scroll in his hand. It was the Earth scroll, the one they needed. “Since we’re taking their scroll, there will be no reason for another team to attack them. They should be fine.”

Suddenly the boy coughed and gagged as if he wasn’t able to breathe. Desperate, Shin dropped to her knees and turned his head to the side. Blood surged from his mouth, staining the grass beneath him.

When she looked up at her teammates, her eyes were pleading and full of tears.

“H-He’s choking on his own blood. Please Aoni, Hajii. Let’s just take them to one of the gates and make some noise. I’m sure there will be examiners close by. If we can get their attention then maybe-”

“Anko said there would be no leaving this site, Shin-chan.” Hajii pointed out. “Everyone here accepted the risks. Things like this happen when you’re a Shinobi. Do you think they would’ve given a second thought if you were in his place?”

Shin swallowed and lowered her gaze back to her enemy. If their roles were reversed, she didn’t think he’d try to help her, but still-

“From now on I’ll find my own Ninja way! A way that’s honest, righteous and without remorse. From now on, I’ll follow Naruto’s way, believe it!”

“I don’t care. That’s my Ninja Way.” Shin settled, pulling her kunai from the boy’s foot, flinching at finding the thing had almost cut his foot in half when she kicked him. She arranged the Taki-Nin in a piggy-back, doing the best to ignore the burning in her left arm where he had stabbed her. “I’m taking him to one of the gates. You guys wait for me at our spot. I promise I’ll be back soon.”

Hajji and Aoni opened their mouths, ready to yell at her no doubt. But before they had the chance, she jumped out of sight.

Both siblings exchanged a look, steam blowing out their ears at the risks their teammate was taking.

“We’re going to kill her.”

---

There was a gate less than 5 kilometers from where they were, so Shin got there in less than 30 minutes. However, to her dismay, there was no one in sight.

“Hello! Anyone there?! Anko-san! Please, anyone!”

There was no answer but the sounds of the forest behind her. Shin tried to reach out with her chakra, but she was exhausted and her reach couldn’t even cover the area of her field of vision.

Shin glanced at the boy’s beaten face and sighed. She knew what she was about to do was stupid, but she didn’t see anyway around it. So she set the boy in a sitting position against the fence and breathed in deep.

“HELLOOOOOOO! ANKOOOOOO!”

Birds shot out in the sky at her loud scream and Shin pulled a kunai out of her pouch as she settled in a defensive stance. She knew screaming like that could draw a lot of unwanted attention to her, but she didn’t see any way around it.

Moments passed, but nobody came. Shin was readying herself for a second scream when someone landed right in front of her. She jumped, not having felt or heard their approach, and for a moment she believed it was another Genin team, ready to end her.

To her relief, standing in front of her were three Shinobi with Anbu masks.

“What are you doing, girl?” One of them asked.

“I need help. Well, not me. He does.” Shin spoke quickly, putting away her kunai as she walked to the Taki-Nin. “He needs a doctor fast. I-I kicked him too hard and now he’s not breathing well. I don’t know if it’s the blood in his airways or the blow to the head, but his breathing is growing worse by the second. I know Anko-san told us there was no leaving once the Exam began, but he can’t wait five days. P-Please take him to a doctor.”

The Anbu exchanged a look.

“He isn’t your teammate?”

“No. We fought. I think he didn’t see my attack coming and wasn’t able to defend himself with chakra. And I-I… I really didn’t mean to kick him as hard as I did. Please help him. Please! I didn’t intend to kill him. I just wanted to knock him out.”

“Where are your teammates?”

“We’re here.”

Shin startled, turning wide, tear-filled eyes back to the forest. Aoni and Hajii were walking towards them leisurely.

“We apologize for her.” Aoni began, glaring at her. “We tried to tell her not to do this but…”

“She grabbed the guy and ran off.” Hajii completed. “She’s pretty damn fast.”

The scarred Taki-Nin suddenly coughed again, spilling more blood over himself.

“Please!” Shin tried again, staring at the Anbu with tears in her eyes. “Just take him to a doctor already!”

At last one of the Anbu nodded at her.

“You two go after Anko. I’ll take this kid to the hospital.”

“You sure about this?”

The woman Anbu nodded, crouching down to take the boy in her arms. “He is in no condition to keep going, and it’s not like his team would ever have a chance of finishing this stage without him.”

“Alright.”

“Be careful.”

With those parting words, the two Anbu jumped out of sight. The third one looked down at Shin.

“What’s your name?”

“Osasu Shin.”

“Hm… I’ve heard of you. You were part of Kakashi’s Team, right? Now, go back to your Exam. I’ll take care of this.”

Shin smiled and bowed at the waist. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you so, so, so much. Thank you.”

“Kakashi will be proud.”

Startled, Shin looked up at the Anbu, but she was already gone. And with her went the last rays of sunshine of the day.

“Shin-chan, we need to talk.”

Swallowing her fear, Shin turned around to face her teammates. The twins had never looked more alike to her as they were now, with the same murderous expression on both of their faces.

Shin chuckled. “I guess I owe you two an apology, no?”

Hajii and Aoni smiled at her, and at the moment Shin knew she would’ve been safer if another enemy team had found her instead.

I’m dead.

#gaara #gaara x oc #naruto #shin #osasu shin #fanfic #forest of death

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ofwizardsandmen · 4 years

Text

Unplanned

Gossip Witch AU (HP AU)

Characters: Tara Lee (OC), Mark Yang (changed his last name for plot purposes)

Word count: 2,1k

Genre: fluff, a lot of fluff

“Mark was eleven the day he decided he wanted Tara Lee to become his wife. It was one of those summer days when the two of them laid sprawled on the grass in the backyard of the Fawley Manor. They had spent the morning talking about Hogwarts and how Tara would write him letters every day and probably send him some of her favorite treats from Honeydukes if she ever got to follow Tyler to the weekend trips to Hogsmeade.”

—

Mark has known Tara for over two decades. Through the years he’s seen the good, the bad —not like there was much to see, except for the very few times Tara has allowed her free-spirited soul to cloud her judgment,— and basically everything in between.

And yet, Mark can’t think of a time his girlfriend looked as angry, frustrated, and seemingly disgusted —all at once— as she does today.

All Tara says when she storms into Mark’s one piece apartment, looking beyond stressed, is that her brother has outdone himself this time. Whatever that means, that’s to say something considering Tyler Lee is one of the most stressful people Mark knows, if not the most stressful. However, over time Mark has learned not to even pretend to be surprised by any Tyler-related news simply because Tara’s brother seems to possess the staggering skill of outdoing himself every other day.

Judging by Tara’s expression, today is one of those days.

“There is no way I am going back there, Mark,” Tara announces gravely, shaking her head vehemently as her boyfriend wraps an arm around her supportively “I am never going back to that place. I’m moving out!” That last part she blurts it out of the blue, eyes ignited with a mixture of resolve and something Mark can only describe as murderous rage. it takes him a few seconds to process Tara’s words and realize she’s talking about the home she shares with her brother.

“T, I get it, Tyler can be a real pain,” This Mark says it sincerely, his mind purposely trying to block the mental images that suddenly assault his memory ”But, think carefully, you can’t just move out. Where are you planning to go?” He asks, genuinely concerned about the possible options Tara might be contemplating… the Fawley Manor or Enzo’s apartment, for example. Or even worse, Arabella Black’s home.

“I don’t know and I don’t care. I can go stay with-“ Tara makes a pause as if trying to organize her thoughts “Enzo” she finally says, confirming Mark’s fears and causing him to bite the inside of his cheek. “Or Adela” she starts counting with her fingers “Leah, Adam, Florence…” Mark only closes his eyes, anticipating Tara to drop the name he dreads the most. “Ara. I’ll call her and ask if I can spend-”

“Babe” Mark steps in front of his girlfriend so they can look at each other face to face, his hands moving to her sides gently “why don’t you talk it out with Tyler first? Whatever happened between you two, and as much as it pains me to say this, but he might have some reason. Not to mention that he adores you and he’d-“

“He’s dating Daniel” Tara blurts, interrupting Mark’s increasingly heartfelt speech and causing him to frown at her, his upper lip slightly going up and creasing the tip of his nose. A look that Tara would’ve considered adorable, had not been for the images occupying her mind at the moment.

“Wait-“ Mark raises a hand, asking Tara not to add a word, his expression as childish as his increasingly mature features allow him to appear now that his 24th birthday is fast approaching “he is- what?”

“Dating, fucking, whatever it is, it’s disgusting, they were-“

“It’s ok, I don’t need the mental image” Mark interrupts, barely being able to conceal the panic in his voice.

“In the living room, Mark” Tara goes on anyhow, causing her boyfriend to wince and scrunch up his nose. “It’s gonna be like this every single day from now on. I can’t put up with that” She claims, allowing her legs to give up and flopping onto Mark’s pastel-colored couch. “Do you agree I have no other option than moving out?” She asks, eyes pleading as she looks up and finds Mark staring down at her with a misplaced expression.

Mark, the ever logical and overthinking soul he is, only presses his lips together and nods slowly before sitting down on the edge of the couch.

“I guess you have no other option,” he says, but it’s still painfully obvious how much he disagrees with her decision. However, Mark is never one to question Tara. He never has questioned Tara even though her decisions made no sense whatsoever or involved the two of them. Mark just doesn’t know how to. He had remained silent even that one time Tara chose to break up with him. “Unless-“

Tara’s eyebrows go up questioningly.

“Unless?”

“Maybe you can use one of those charms you use to soundproof my studio,” Mark suggests hopefully, the slightest bit of blush spreading on his cheeks.

“Mark, no amount of charms will be enough with those two” Tara says and he grimaces at that. “You are being really weird about this” his girlfriend adds, eyeing him as if he'd eventually start to show symptoms of a disease. “You’re ok?”

“Then move in with me” Mark blurts so out of the blue that his own words sound foreign when they come out of his mouth. It would be funny if Tara wasn’t staring at him, looking profusely confused.

“Mark, I can’t invade your personal space.” She reasons logically “I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but this apartment is not exactly fit for the two of us,” her eyes dart to the suitcases blocking the corridor and Mark’s guitar and the notebooks where he writes his music down, scattered all over the coffee table and the rug.

“Then let’s find a house,” Mark offers quite simply, not really knowing where the sudden eagerness is coming from.

Moving in together has always seemed the natural next step in their relationship. There’s no denying he’s thought about it a lot. Enough times for him to brainwash himself into believing he knows exactly how waking up next to Tara every morning would feel like and fantasize about getting to a cozy home where she waits for him every night and smothers him with kisses. However, the way Tara looks at him makes his conviction falter and his chest deflate.

“Mark, I do appreciate the offer, but I don’t think you’re thinking things through,” Tara says her boyfriend’s name carefully and pronounces every word after slowly, almost as though she’s scared of offending him. “Moving in together is a very-“ She hesitates “It’s a huge step, I don’t think you’re aware of it just now”

“I am,” Mark says, finally gathering all the confidence he’s lacked to contradict Tara during those eleven years of relationship.

—

Mark was eleven the day he decided he wanted Tara Lee to become his wife. It was one of those summer days when the two of them laid sprawled on the grass in the backyard of the Fawley Manor. They had spent the morning talking about Hogwarts and how Tara would write him letters every day and probably send him some of her favorite treats from Honeydukes if she ever got to follow Tyler to the weekend trips to Hogsmeade.

“Why can’t you just keep attending school… hmmm… here?” He had asked. At age eleven and with his reduced knowledge of the magical world, Mark’s was a genuine question. Tara had looked at him as though he had asked why the sky was blue or if Earth was really round. The kind of question whose answer is evident, but requires a lot of complex words and scientific knowledge to explain.

“Because that’s how it works” Tara had settled for an answer that was as useless as it was genuine. “It’s just something I have to do” She had moved to a sitting position and looked down at Mark, her expression warm and confident “If I want to go to Oxford with you, I ought to go to Hogwarts first. I’ll be back before you notice” she had added, smiling so brightly and reassuringly that for a moment, the sun seemed to be paling in comparison. Even as a kid, that was Tara’s charm, her confidence and the way she always seemed to know how to offer consolation and calm Mark’s fears.

Back then, Mark dreamed about becoming an author of the likes of C.S. Lewis or Arthur Conan Doyle and he wouldn’t go a day without carefully planning every step that would take him to Cambridge or Oxford and would allow him to receive a Nobel by the time he turned 50.

“And then, I will write you a book about it” There was a moment’s worth of hesitation “For you, Markie”

Mark was just a kid, but even back then, he knew Tara really meant that.

—

“In fact…” Mark shallows and then clears his throat a bit too loudly for his cheeks not to tint again. He forces himself to push the childhood memories away and focus on the matter at hand “In fact, that’s something I’ve always thought, something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately” he confesses. “I know how unexpected all of this is and you might think I’m just rushing things because I don’t want you to move in with Ara and have that odious brother of her lurking around, but” Mark speaks so fast that Tara can barely follow along. “Wait, there’s something-” Mark suddenly shoots up and scurries to the other side of his apartment, opening drawers randomly until he seems to find what he’s looking for. He strides back to Tara without even minding the mess he’s left behind him as he shoves something that looks suspiciously like a jewelry box in his pockets.

“Mark, are you ok?” Tara glances at him, awkwardly standing a few steps away from her, and concern crosses her features “I had no idea you still felt that way about Darius, but if that’s a problem, I can always find a place for myself, you know, on my own” she ventures, her lower lip caught firmly between her teeth.

“No, no, no. It’s not about that” Mark shakes his head almost frantically before wiping his hands on the fabric of his jeans. If Tara didn’t know any better, she’d say he seems nervous. But then Mark seems to collect himself, takes a deep breath, and goes down on his knee.

“Mark, I don’t know what you’re doing” There’s panic in Tara’s voice when she attempts to stand up, but Mark’s hands are quick to grab her sides and hold her in place “I don’t think you’re-“

“Shhhh, let me talk, please,” He asks, speaking over her, his voice deep and serious. “Listen T, it is evident by now, but you’re the love of my life.” Mark stops for a few seconds, feeling as though he’s not making a very good job at conveying what he wants to say. Tara has the good sense to remain silent because she expects there to be more. But the silence stretches, making the look of anticipation on her face to grow deeper. “You’re my best friend and I know it sounds silly, but I’ve always known I want to spend a lifetime with you, it’s always been you and I simply can’t imagine loving anyone the way I love you.” Tara’s face flushes at that, “I know we’re still young, and you might feel it’s too early, but we’ve been together for so long, there’s literally no other step in between. I want to protect you and love you and wake up next to you every morning. I want us to be a family.” Mark gulps quietly as he fishes in the pocket of his jeans, pulling a red leather box “So, Tara Lee, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Tara doesn’t reply immediately, she stares at the sparkling diamond inside the box with her eyes wide open and her thoughts all jumbled up inside her brain. She can’t quite grasp the situation yet, because it all happened so unexpectedly that it almost feels like her frenzied imagination is pulling a cruel prank on her. She blinks twice to make sure she’s not dreaming and then nods slowly, but Mark has already started to speak again, taking her silence for hesitation.

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be immediate, we’ll need a house and you know Jane, so maybe it can be next year or the year after, I just want us to-“ he rambles.

“Yes, Mark. I will marry you” Tara says laughing as her hand slides under his chin. He seems positively confused for a second or two, until then Tara goes on “It doesn’t matter if it’s tomorrow or next year or the year after, I will still want to marry you, Mark Yang, because you’re the love of my life too.”

Mark looks like he can’t quite believe his ears, but as a wide smile starts to spread across his lips, matching Tara’s elated smile, he allows his insecurities to resurface in the form of a silly question “Wait, can you repeat that?”

Tara rolls eyes and fights the urge to chose a sarcastic reply. Instead, when she closes the gap between them and leans to press their lips together, she whispers “yes” against Mark’s lips.

Mark has known Tara for over two decades. And yet, he can’t think of a time she looked as beautiful and happy as she does right now.

...

#mark #story #otp #tara #oc #proposal

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ddaenghoney · 4 years

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chapter four

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): graphic sexual depictions (fingering, like really minor dirty talk; it’s mostly dirty praise idk, oral; female receiving, cum swallowing, vaginal penetration via male penis(typing this made me laugh so hard lmao), male ejaculation without condom); i’d say it’s entirely sweet sex but uh-

Word count: 4931

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

Yoongi stands outside of the CEO office, his back against the wall beside the elevator. Waiting until the door shuts behind you, he straightens, pressing the button next to his waist to signal the elevator. Meeting eyes with his, you know there’s a lot he wants to say, but the vagueness of his expression doesn’t give you an idea of a tone. Another lecture you’re sure. Just to continue the growing streak. Yerin’s secretary glances towards you then Yoongi, curiosity taking over her to hope for something interesting to occur.

You simply follow him into the elevator.

“What was all of that?” He asks you when the door shuts, eyes peering in frustration, but you believe him to be shocked more than anything. “I’m now your fake boyfriend?” A single, breathy laugh leaves his mouth. Bitter.

“I guess,” You’re unable to meet his gaze, instead staring at the unlit elevator buttons and the lack of movement from other people calling for the elevator on this oddly slow day. “I don’t even know.”

“If I knew this would happen,” He sighs, rubbing his temples and never finishing the end of the thought. Leaving it to himself.

“This is my fault.” Your voice is barely a whisper, severity of everything catching up with you and how you’ve managed to cause trouble for Jimin and now Yoongi, who’s new to SoundWave and probably hating the employment.

“No.” Yoongi shakes his head, then exhales once more, trying to rationalize. “This is complete shit, but it’s not your fault.” In the first place, Jimin having a contract forbidding him from dating is one that Yoongi thought was just a bad rumor in the industry-- something that people didn’t actually have. There wasn’t a single employee in his last company that was forced under that rule, even though it had been frowned upon to be in public relationships. Incredibly frowned upon in a certain case. Still, Yoongi never figured the lack of a dating-ban clause in his contract and the new direction of his stage persona would lead him into a fake relationship. Irony with no humor. “Why aren’t you publically an employee?”

You reach for the elevator buttons, clicking the ground floor. The machinery shifts, starting the descent.

“Because,” You’re still hesitant about the prospect of explaining your situation. Anyone at SoundWave that has anything to do with music production knows, and Yoongi shouldn’t be an exception. It’s not like he is an intern, or part-time assistant. You may even work with him in the future, but you can’t remember ever explaining your position to someone other than Jimin. And that was only because he was whom you worked with often when first starting. “I write songs and produce, but I don’t ever get credited for it.”

“What?” Yoongi sounds like he thinks he didn’t correctly hear you. “Wait, what do you mean? Who gets the credit then?”

You sigh, eyeing the floor number that grows smaller and smaller, but not quick enough. “Whatever group or idol that ends up using them.”

“You,” He’s without comprehension, expression on his face ridiculously confused. Maybe even appalled by your job, or that he is also a part of the extremely large group under the assumption that they aren’t being lied to. Only to find out that it’s an acceptable and ongoing aspect of the company. One you’re acceptant of; otherwise you would’ve quit years ago or never taken the job to begin with. “You let your work get used under someone else’s name-- you’re lying to people, and you’re just letting that happen?”

You glare at him, but stay silent. Even if you want to argue, that’s how it is. You don’t have the power to change it, and years earlier you didn’t actually mind sliding ethics aside. You want to tell him that you’re not letting the lies occur willingly, but by the looks of his face-- something appearing increasingly unsettled and distant about your untruthful position-- you know it won’t matter. He won’t understand and maybe is even right to have his opinion of you drop to the ground.

The elevator door opens prompting you to practically jump out. “I’m going home.”

Yoongi stays inside of it, posture weighted in contempt of everything that he’s just gone through. As if the merger couldn’t get anymore terrible, now he is in a falsified relationship with someone that helps SoundWave lie to the general public just for the sake of appearances, and he’s stuck dealing with it. He groans when the doors shut again, taking a moment to bask in the nonsense of it all before clicking the button to his studio’s floor.

Outside the building you pace, considering the option of calling Jimin, but then also considering that he hasn’t texted you and is likely angry and sorting through his own thoughts of this mess. You groan, startling a passerby on their walk to wherever. Taking no notice you shake your head, pulling out your phone and ripping the bandaid off,

Y/N, 3:43pm: Can we talk?

You stare at the message thread for a passing minute, then lock the screen. He could be busy doing a thousand other things, there isn’t a reason for him to automatically get back to your message, and he could still be upset-- the screen flashes with a notification, and you immediately unlock,

Jimin, 3:44pm: Yeah, I get off close to nine.

A breath releases from your lips. At least he responded. Another message appears, the contents seizing up the next beat of your heart.

Jimin, 3:44pm: Can I call you right now?

Y/N, 3:45pm: Yeah, of course.

You descend south of the company, heading towards a nearby coffee shop when the call comes in. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Jimin sits in the recording booth, waiting for the producer to meet him there at the start of the next hour. His legs gently push on the floor, swaying the computer chair side to side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” The concern in his voice eases you, as well as the seemingly calm demeanor. Though there is a chance he’s feigning it, you suppose. “I’m so sorry about the thing with Yoongi. I swear nothing happened-”

“I believe you, lovely.” Softly spoken, head nodding even though you couldn’t see him. Jimin bites his lip, bothered that you’ve likely been incredibly worried about what he thought ever since Yerin dropped the words. “You wouldn’t do that to me. I trust you.”

His sincerity is warm, nearly causing the fuzz of emotions in your eyes to trickle because of how much your mind was pressured from the idea that he would misunderstand. You breathe through your lips, cracking the air audibly. Jimin sits upright on his end, concern raising his voice’s volume,

“Baby, are you crying?”

“No.” You’re quick to cover up but the word itself sounds like a tremble. Jimin frowns, rubbing his face,

“I’m sorry, I would’ve texted you but I was worried your phone’s notification would be loud while you were talking to Yerin. I didn’t want it to interrupt and make her angrier.” You rub your eyes feeling no tears and just the annoying heat that seems to release from all of the stress of the past couple of hours. “What did she tell you anyways? You didn’t get in more trouble did you?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Just a speech that put you in your place, but it’s not worth mentioning. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer you over the weekend, Jimin.”

“It’s fine.” Jimin taps his index finger on the armrest, then pausing the motion as you speak up,

“No, it’s not fine. I shouldn’t have ignored you. I wasn’t being fair.” You sigh. He’s quiet at your words, surprised at the conclusion of your actions.

“I was acting like an idiot, Y/N.” He glances to the clock, knowing the producer is usually early. “I’m not mad at you for it, I deserved it. Anyways, I need to go. I just called because I wanted to hear your voice and make sure you were okay.” You smile softly at the admission. “Come to my apartment later and we’ll talk more, alright?”

“Okay,” You nod, glancing to the sign on the coffee shop that stated they are closed for the day. Unusual for a Monday. Yet fitting for the kind of day it is. “I’ll make sure no one notices me going in.”

---

Jimin can’t help chuckling at you when he opens his front door. A large zip-up hoodie drapes over you with the hood covering your face, and sunglasses complete your, to your opinion, lowkey look despite sunglasses being useless at night. You’re pouting as you remove the shades, stepping into the apartment.

“I bet the cab driver thought you were having a day.”

“He wouldn’t be wrong.” You shrug, slipping the hood off and dipping your eyes from his. Jimin sighs, head nodding in agreement. “He was telling me I was lucky to get a cab tonight and everyone is close to the city center today, so at least I got a ride if nothing else.” Jimin’s head tilts at your seemingly lack of awareness to the date,

“You know it’s New Year’s Eve don’t you?” His sentence barely completes before you’re looking back at him in shock. When you consider all of the closed establishments and lack of people at work, it makes sense, but you’re in disbelief that you forgot. Jimin smiles in endearment, reaching for your hand, “It’s been a complicated week.”

He leads you to the couch, and still calm. With all of the information he heard from Yerin, you assumed Jimin would act differently. At least be asking fervently for answers. He said on the phone that he trusts you, but despite that you wonder how he’s not appearing to be upset about it. Sitting down beside him, you watch Jimin pull his knee up on the cushion facing you. His hand fiddles with yours, thumb stroking the top.

“What should we do?”

The question isn’t one you anticipated on your way over. The diverse amount of things Jimin could mean with it flutter your mind like gusts in a tree, and the lack of strong emotion in how he spoke make your eyebrows harden in thought. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” His eyes fall to where your hands meet. Jimin squeezes tighter. A pound in his chest. “Don’t you think we should stop this all?”

Muscles tense throughout your body. The concept is so far removed from what you expected. His passive attitude to go along with it drives your head to draw a blank. You thought coming here there could be strong words in an argument of explanations, and apologies for the things Yerin called you both into the office for. Not this. Your hand squeezes around his and Jimin casts his gaze back up. Nervousness is apparent, paired with your head shaking.

Jimin bites his inner lip, trying to remain rational despite the hurt in your eyes, “We,” He hesitates, remembering the first time that he kissed you. “We’re just hurting each other, love.”

“How?” Voice higher, confused. “We’re,” You swallow dryly, “Not even dating, Jimin, why do you sound like you think we should break up.” A tiny, hollow laugh, devoid of humor. You watch helplessly as he nods,

“I know, so before it gets worse than what happened today, we should stop.” Jimin’s voice slows down, like he doesn’t want to complete the sentence. Sadder. You inhale, trying to reason his tactics in your mind,

“Then let’s date.”

“Love-”

“I don’t want to stop.” Jimin bites his lip, frowning at you while feeling the ducts of his eyes well because of your pleas. Your hand shakes in his grip, and he wills himself to stop from hugging you. “Please, I don’t want to stop. I like how we were, I,” You remember saying the opposite to him at the club. He recalls the same thing, smiling joylessly.

“We can’t stand up for each other, baby. I can’t be there for you like you deserve.” Jimin talks about the company, but also in society’s perspective. Yerin made it clear that he can’t be in a relationship publically, and for that reason the relationship between you started. Hidden. Incomplete. Jimin told you at the beginning that you should both stop if you caught feelings for somebody else and you agreed because it was just fun when it started. It wasn’t serious, but it turned into something deeper. You know that and know Jimin knows it too.

“I care about you so much.”

Jimin’s lips part at the simple, yet utterly sincere and loving words. Contrasted by the sadness of the entire situation. His hand clenches around yours. He thinks the same, but with what he knows about himself, he shouldn’t let this continue. The few cool tears dripping from his eyes plead with him as well. To admit to you the feelings that he has, but it’s more complicated.

“Jimin,” He loves hearing his name through your lips. His tear-stained face watches you move, knowing he should stop you. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t and your lips are on his. Jimin’s hand abandons yours for your waist, to keep you from getting too close, but he kisses you back, relishing in your touch against his better judgement.

“Baby.” Jimin’s hand tightens around the side of your waist when you attempt to move closer. Mere inches from your face, his eyes lock with yours, searching for your thoughts.

“Please,” Air hitches in Jimin’s throat while your arms cascade around his neck. Your voice soft. Begging once more, by your lips kissing him sweetly. Like candy. Familiarly. “You don’t want to stop.”

“We should though.” A waver in his tone. Jimin really doesn’t want to stop, let you go, force you from his life.

“Just kiss me.” Believing you can convince him otherwise, your arms gently tug. Coaxing. In a more sensible time, you know this isn’t how to keep him with you. You know that there are problems, and the way Jimin and you are now won’t work. But you love him.

And this isn’t a sensible time.

Your hoodie is left on the couch, stripped off before Jimin lifts you to take you to his bedroom. Your lips attach along his jaw, trailing until you come in contact with the spot that elicits an expected grunt. Your arms tighten around him, holding yourself to him while working at the skin, leaving it sensitive and bruised before he lays you down.

His fingers caress on the area, smirking softly at your quick, thorough work, but his jaw tightens when you waste no time and remove your long sleeve. Inhaling a long breath, Jimin crawls over top of you,pressing your head back into the mattress as he kisses you firmly.

“What if you regret this?” Jimin’s voice blisters against your neck, syllables left in the skin like a trail leading to your collarbone where he pauses, kissing feverishly. He knows you won’t change your mind, more so when you audibly sigh and mix your fingertips into his hair,

“I can’t regret you.” You raise your hips the short distance to rub against Jimin’s, listening to his groan when he feels you against his growing bulge, “I want you, Jimin.”

For more than just the night.

Jimin’s face equals with your own, lost in your eyes until you kiss him again, prompting him to flatten against you more. His hips rub slowly over yours, firmly pressing his hardened erection against your pelvis. You moan against his lips, fueling Jimin’s emotions to win over logic. His hand reaches for the button on your jeans quickly, desiring more contact. He halts when you nudge him upwards, immediately thinking you want to stop until your fingertips are undoing each button on his top. He smirks at your hands, watching you through the sultriness in his irises.

Jimin lets you be the one to push his shirt off his shoulders, then he lets it slip off his arms to lie next to your hips on the bed. Your palm finds his chest, cementing the beat of his heart to memory. He observes quietly, curious of the slowness in your actions. The intimacy of feeling his skin in a calm manner. The moment passes when your hand moves to cup his cheek, guiding him back down to you for a kiss labored in passion, but just as vulnerable as tears.

You grind your hips opposite of his motions, creating a deeper pressure that causes a small piece of profanity to fall from his lips. Jimin’s hand finds your cleavage, squeezing over your bra to make you gasp. The article is removed then in your haste for him to touch you more, earning darkened chuckles from his lips when you lift your back from the bed to unclasp the bra, your chest pressing to his. He admires you, “You’re so precious.”

“Then don’t break up with me.” Labored words escape when you’re back against his sheets. Under his focused stare you slip your arms from the bra straps, but hesitate to remove the cups when Jimin’s chest fills with air from a sharp inhale. Watching so intently, and you swear his eyes gaze lovingly as well. He reaches his hand over yours, guiding it to slide the lingerie from your chest, exposing yourself to him for a countless time. Beautiful.

“It’s better for us,” Jimin has the nerve, the stubbornness to say this in a low voice, despite the fact that the actions currently show he’s trapped in the thing he’s deemed no good. You shake your head, then are halted by the ghosting kiss from his lips, “You mean so much to me, lovely.” A longer ministration follows, filling your thoughts of the familiarity how sweet he’s always tasted. “But we can’t become a couple. I can’t let you deal with how lousy I am.”

“You’re not,” You pepper Jimin’s cheeks, fingers trailing along his back.

“You know how I am in the company.” You don’t speak against that idea, the one you never want to bring up because it felt like an instant argument. One you didn’t think Jimin realized. “And you’re wonderful and talented,” His kisses are short and repetitive against your lips, “And deserve better than all of the crap you’re put through. But I can’t help you with it. And I don’t want to be a reason you hold yourself back.”

Before you’re able to retort at his nonsensical words, Jimin’s hand reaches between your legs palm pressing against your jeans and rubbing friction into your core. Words are lost to a whimper unprepared for the contact as well as the proceeding action his hand takes rubbing roughly, making your hips move into him craving more. Jimin kisses at your neck listening to his name fall from your lips in a needy murmur.

His hand leaves your growing pile of nerves, eliciting a breathy whine that he kisses back into your mouth. Jimin unbuttons your jeans, “Take them off.” The demanding tone is contrastingly soft, leaving your heart beating in anticipation and complying in moments to help him rid the clothing. “God,” He lifts himself upright, knees pressing further into the mattress from his weight, while he looks you over: skin already appearing glistened from need, chest concaving from breaths that leave the mess of lovebites in view on your upper body. “So beautiful.” His head tilts watching the blush on your face grow from his words. “You know that though,” A coy smirk plays at his lips, while he reaches for your thighs, gently sliding you upwards on his bed, so your head comes close to the headboard. “I tell you,” Your mouth releases a moan when his fingers press against your clit through your panties, his lips leaving airy pecks on your thighs, “Every time I can,” His smirks grows when the swipe of his thumb against your wettening heat makes your legs jerk. Trying to close, but he removes the hand to grip them back in place, respreading, “I’m going to make you feel good.”

Profanity slips from your lips in a breathless stutter when he strips you completely, Jimin’s fingers rubbing into your clit like a map memorized. Easily causing your legs to wiggle, moans slipping out when one dips inside. “Jimin,” Needily begging for more as the digit slides in and out, readying you for the second while he continues laying kisses on your chest, decorating it with heat in every spot. “Feels-” You gasp when his thumb works against your clit, the sensation mixing with his fingers pumping inside of you making your hands grip his shoulder.

Nails graze the skin as Jimin’s fingers push all the way, he grunts from the force of your hand, but leaves a kiss to your jaw, “Don’t come,” Another ministration on your lips as you whimper, already knowing you were leaving his fingers wet along with his sheets from how he was expertly edging you along, “Not yet, lovely, wait for my mouth to take you over.”

Every piece of will to listen nearly disperts from just the tone of Jimin’s voice: slow, confident. You’re so willing to be pushed over that you’re unable to stop your hips bucking into his mouth when his tongue graces the entrance of your throbbing cunt. He chuckles against you, the vibrations themselves feel good, and your face heats from your own eagerness, but you’re more focused on giving him the satisfaction he wants, “Jimin, you’re so-” You gasp as his tongue dips deeper, moaning your next words, “Good, fuck; please, I want to come.”

“Let me taste you, baby,” Jimin’s hands hold your hips as you writhe from the pleasuring sensations. He groans low when your hand leaves the bed to tangle in his hair as your orgasm coaxes through. You tremble releasing yourself with long moans, hazy while Jimin’s lips lap up your arousal, muttering praise into your core. Your head lies against his mattress, chest taking full inhales, as Jimin sits upright. His tongue drags along the remainders of you on his lips, while his eyes take in your fucked body. He crawls overtop of you, kissing you and staining your tongue with your own taste.

“I want you inside me,” You cup Jimin’s face as you murmur the words. His eyes are lidden with desire at your statement, sharply inhaling when you go on, “Fuck me, baby, please I want to make you cum in me.” Jimin kisses you, moaning to your lips as your hand rubs his shaft through tight jeans. “It’s not even fair for you to still have these on,” He chuckles, and you can’t help the tiny smirk on your lips.

“You want to come again, baby; so needy for me.” Jimin kisses your nose, his pelvis moving into the motions of your hand. His inhales grows slightly labored when you give a squeeze to his hardened bulge before you’re unbuttoning his jeans. They’re removed in moments, Jimin’s own efforts to pull of his boxers, exposing his dick, erect and sensitive enough to cause his breaths to shake when he palms himself, “You’re sure about no condom?”

“You know I’m covered there,” You say staring at his length, swallowing in anticipation for the feeling of Jimin inside of you. He notices your sultry gaze and leans back towards you, kissing you tenderly.

The emotion takes you back for a second, feeling somewhere between melancholic and warm, you’re brought back to his conviction that this would be the last time Jimin intends to be intimate with you. When his lips leave yours, your eyes are focused on Jimin’s. There’s so much you want to ask him, but when he’s as convinced as he is, what good would it do. You’re the only one with feelings surpassing love, or else he wouldn’t do this.

Jimin kisses you again, using the remnants of your previous orgasm to lubricate his length, before he’s aligning himself with your entrance and easing himself in. Your chest raises from a breath, listening to Jimin’s moans against your lips as he tops out into you, “You’re so good around me, baby. Fuck,” He grunts when your hips buck to his. You moan as his grinding begins slow in full movements to get your walls acclimated to his dick, though you’re already well stimulated.

“Fuck,” You gasp as his pace suddenly changes, Jimin pulling out only to pound back in and make you moan his name loudly. He kisses your lips before moving back to your cheek, jaw, and neck, every inch he could while he pumps into you over and over, every audible sound from you encouraging his actions. “Jimin, Jimin,” You beg using his name, feeling his hand find yours, fingers meshing as your voice grows higher from an oncoming wave wanting to burst through. “I’m close- shit--”

“God, you feel so good; your pussy takes me so well, baby,” Jimin kisses your lip hungrily, “Come for me, lovely; I’m going to,” Your hand squeezes him as the orgasm washes over you, listening to Jimin’s moaning as his seed fills you, “Fucking,” You come undone with him, the ride going through your core and releasing around Jimin’s dick as you moan loudly, senselessly, not caring if anyone could possibly hear.

Labored breathing flows into the silence of his room. Your free hand guides Jimin’s face to yours for a sweet kiss that he lets linger into a honeylike warmth. Pulling out, Jimin then lets himself fall into the bed beside you, hand still holding yours with a seeming refusal to let go. He watches quietly while you look at his ceiling aimlessly, breathing still full as your bodies calm down. “You still want us to stop.” A statement with the tone of a question.

“Yeah,” He bites his lip as you turn on your side to face him. He feels your hand grip his with a tiny tremble, and your eyes alone make his heart nearly shatter. You try your best to force the tiniest of smiles, but Jimin gently shakes his head, “Don’t pretend for my sake, sweetie.”

“It hurts.” You whisper to let out the emotions that want to escape as tears. Jimin frowns, pulling you towards him and embracing you so you could hide your face against his chest. “Are you sure this isn’t because of the thing with Yoongi?” You ask in a trembling voice while tears build in your eyes that you try to blink back.

“It’s not.” Jimin kisses the top of your head, his hands rubbing soothingly along your back, “It’s really not, baby.” He pauses, knowing there his reasoning isn’t completely selfish as he goes on, his voice sad and his reflecting that, “We just really can’t be there for each other like we’d need to be in a relationship, lovely. We’ll just hurt each other, more than we have been lately.”

You exhale a choppy breath, trying to even out your emotions for the sake of the last night with Jimin not being only tears.

You both flinch as the night sky outside flashes, with a medley of booming sounds murmuring out in the air. Jimin’s grasp on you strengthens, contemplative of what was going on as you shift to get sight of the window, covered except for the gap between the curtains.

“It must be midnight.” Your voice is hollow and you remove yourself from his warmth to crawl off the bed. Jimin’s eyes follow you inquisitive, a pit of worry brewing that you intend to leave until your hand pushes back one of the curtains, leaving the sheer set behind it out in the open. The colorful fireworks continue in happy, vibrant colors, spilling remnants of their energy as a reflection on your skin. Jimin stares in awe, silent as you turn back to face him, picturesque and ethereal in the celebratory lights. A contradiction to the events of his apartment.

A veil in the thin curtains acts as a separator between you both in the dimness of his room and the continuation of the world outside.

You walk back towards Jimin, crawling to his open arms on the bed as he greets your return with a kiss. You take it and any following in case they’re the last, settling into Jimin’s bed with him as the blankets cover your cuddling frames. It’s a long time of contentment in each other’s arms, while you both ignore that day means an end; trying to let the fireworks and their beauty be enough of a distraction between longing kisses.

Inevitably you fall asleep first, breaths soothing in sound and sight as Jimin admires the grace of your figure in his arms. He strokes your hair like you still needed to be lulled to slumber. He thinks what it would be like if he was on your side from the first instance of you bringing up that you wanted to be credited for your work, or if he hadn’t kept quiet about his opposite, selfish opinion this long and forwards.

Your sleeping body shifts, arms tightening around his waist. Jimin can’t help the little smile, wishing he had the same outlook as you just so it wouldn’t be the last night of you being practically his. Jimin’s lips find your peaceful forehead in a warm kiss, saying a whisper that he doubts he’ll ever get to say again, “I love you.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know! i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : ) also don’t drag me for the smut in this chapter it may or may not be good idk im worried lmaoadsjfgk

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire @tsvkino-usagi

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imthequeenofcordonia · 4 years

Text

Wacky drabble #31: We all need a little help sometimes.

This is my contribution to @emceesynonymroll wacky drabbles. The prompt is: You should’ve told me earlier – I could have helped you. The prompt will appear in bold.

Paring: Drake x OC (Lily Rys)

Word count: 2,244 (OMG I really tried to stay under 1,000. I got a little bit carried away 😳 )

Warnings: Depression/ panic attack

A/N: All characters belong to Pixelberry other than Lily.

Permatag: @desireepow-1986

Drake and Lily tags: @addictedtodrakefanfic @msjr0119 @drakewalker04

Masterlist

Anxiety. This was something Lily often had to deal with but she did normally without too much of a problem. Anxiety, although it could often be crippling, was the least of her problems.

She remembered the first time she had a panic attack. She was fourteen, nearly fifteen, when she was attending a ball. She stood by the ballroom doors with her brothers, father and stepmother when the world around her started to spin and breathing became an unnecessarily difficult task.

She had them more and more throughout the years, especially during her teenage years when it got increasingly bad. The thing that annoyed her was she was never able to pinpoint what caused them. What her trigger was. They’d always come seemingly out of nowhere.

Lily was nineteen now and she hadn't had one for a month, to everyone else that seemed like a minuscule thing, but to her? It was amazing. Before that she barely went a day without having one, not that anyone seemed to notice it anyway.

She understood, her father was the king for god sake and wasn't the most affectionate of people. Leo was learning everything he’d need to know for when the crown was passed down to him, between his disappearances and flamboyant trips around the world that was. As for Liam, well he had his own life, they weren’t joined at the hip so he didn't notice either. Regina, yes, she was Lily's stepmother, but Lily very much doubted the woman would be able to help her with her anxiety, so keeping that all in mind, she was left to deal with it on her own.

Lily had always been closer with her eldest brother, they were just more alike than her and Liam were, so occasionally he’d be the one to quell all her fears away, if he was there that was.

Today the whole family was taking a trip to Ramsford for the annual Beaumont bash. This was Lily’s favourite event, it wasn't formal in any shape or form like every other event was. The thought of being around so many people had her anxiety rearing its head.

She had been out of the palace much over the last month. She had stayed confined in her room for the majority of it only leaving for food and to have her piano and singing lessons in the ballroom.

She didn't have a fear of leaving the palace, not normally, but it was difficult to have much confidence when you hated everything about yourself. She constantly judged herself so why wouldn't other people. It was alright for her brothers, they got all the good genes. They were tall, handsome, confident whereas Lily wasn't, or at least that’s what she believed.

Lily glanced at her clock hung on her bedroom wall, they would be leaving soon. Lily packed a bag, making the deduction they’d most likely be spending the night in Ramsford, then grabbed her ball gown off the back of her door as finishing packing and doing her makeup for the evening. The dress was beautiful, it once belonged to her mother but those types of dresses were not the most comfortable to travel in.

She met Constantine and Regina on the steps outside the entrance to the family as staff loaded their belongings into the awaiting SUV as Liam had headed on over earlier that day with Drake.

“You’re not dressed,” Constantine noted.

Lily shrugged, “The dress isn't that comfortable, especially to travel in, i’ll get changed when we get there.”

“Very well,” Constantine nodded.

“Where’s Leo?” Lily asked, looking around for him after noticing he wasn't there.

“I’m here!” he yelled bombing out of the doors, bending over and putting his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. “I’m here,” he muttered, looking up at his family. Constantine made a wordless noise of disapproval as they headed down the steps and into the awaiting car.

When they arrived they had twenty odd minutes before the ball was to officially begin so, Constantine and Regina sat and talked with Bertrand as Leo went in search of his brother and Lily headed on up to her room to change.

She quickly changed into her dress and stood in front of the mirror in the conjoining bathroom, eyeing her appearance quizzically. It really was a miracle nobody had noticed something was wrong. There were dark bags beneath both her eyes, like she’d been punched but the reality was she just hadn't slept, she was pale, all the makeup she’d caked on earlier that day was doing her very little justice.

After she was done, she checked her phone quickly seeing there was only a few minutes before the ball was to be officially kicked off, turned her phone off and put it on the bedside table- there was no point in taking it down with her, she wouldn't use it, then she smoothed down her dress and headed over to the door, hesitating to turn it when her hand latched onto the doorknob and her anxiety peaked.

Would anyone really notice if she wasn't there? She wondered.

After getting herself together somewhat she opened the door, stepping out and shutting it behind her. She knew the Beaumont estate off by heart now, she had spent a lot of time there growing up. She wandered slowly through the corridors, peeping out the line of windows that looked out onto the driveway and saw guests after guests wearing exquisite outfits arrived for the bash. Lily looked down at her royal blue dress she was wearing, then out the window and out at the other women’s gowns. Her dress was beautiful, it was her mothers, she loved it but it didn't come close to the other ladies, adding on the fact that Lily looked almost sick.

Her breathing picked up at her made her way toward the ballroom. Her feet tingled as she walked, making her nearly trip as she did so. She wrung her hands together, her palms starting to feel sweaty. She felt her heart thumping in her chest, violently. Lily came to a halt, she couldn't walk in like this. She lent against the nearby wall as breathing became a more difficult task, her hand went to her chest as it felt as if somebody was sitting on top of it and that action would push the invisible force off of her, but of course that didn't work. Her heart continued to thud harder as her panic continued, affecting her hearing as it thumped in her ears, to the point she didn't hear the footsteps of the person approaching her.

“Lily?” Drake's voice called, as he tried to interrupt her panic but his attempt failed, she was too focused on the deafening sound of her heart beating in her chest. “Lil,” he called again, and luckily this time seemed to snap her out of it somewhat.

She turned to face him, with tears pricking at her eyes and a sense of fear in them. He felt his heart pang with guilt. “Sorry, what?”

Her eyes darted around the hallway around her and back to him, then back to the floor, her breathing became more laboured and shallow as her panic continued to rise. Her hands shook, her feet tingled as they stayed fixed to the floor being the only thing that was grounding her in the sea of panic and fear that was surrounding her. Her heart thudded in her chest like it was going to burst right out from her rib cage. She was scared, what was he going to think about her? Nobody was supposed to see this, least of all Drake. Their relationship was...complicated to put it lightly.

She could see through her tear clouded vision that Drake was scared, she could see the fear in his chocolate brown eyes. Which in turn made her feel guilty, which made her cry harder. Every attempt at trying to stop panic taking over failed miserably, every technique she had learned didn't work, the panic had already gotten its vicious claws in and it wasn't letting go.

She tried to stop her crying, but her efforts failed resulting in her crying more and not breathing properly other than some strangled breaths here and there. It hadn’t been going on long but she was exhausted, she was worn out before this started after not getting a wink of sleep the night before and this most certainly wasn't helping.

“It's okay,” she heard Drake's soothing voice tell her, but it wasn’t, she wasn’t okay, none of it was okay. She felt him put a hand on her shoulder, but it felt foreign to her at that moment, so she pulled away from her friend's touch.

“Lily, it’s okay,” Drake affirmed. She looked up at him as tears accumulated in her ocean blue eyes, that soon cascaded down her face, leaving tear streaks down her cheeks.

Drake pulled her gently against him. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Lily, it’s okay,” he soothed.

He couldn’t do anything to stop it, all he could do was help her through it, but he wasn't really sure how to do that.

“It's okay,” Drake whispered as he ran his fingers through her long, dirty blonde hair.

Finally Lily's tears had come to a stop as it became easier for her to breathe, rather than taking in a few strangled breaths in between cries. Neither of them knew how much time had gone by.

She pulled out of his grip, wiping her tired and sore eyes. After she had steeled herself, she looked up to him, her red and puffy blue eyes meeting his similar chocolate brown ones. Mascara dripped down her cheeks, her eyes were red and puffy, her hair was all out of place from where Drake had run his fingers through It in an attempt to soothe her. Drake had noticeably been crying and had lily’s snot and tears down his denim jacket as a few stray tears ran down his own cheeks. When Lily let herself break down it was always like she had opened a floodgate and there was nothing that could be done to shut it again.

“Lil-”

Drake placed a hand on her face and gently turned her head so she was looking up at him. He wiped the stray tears that ran freely down her cheeks with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to not let anymore tears fall as she locked eyes with him.

“How long has this been going on for?”

Lily wiped at her eyes, “A few months,” she explained, sniffling.

Drake’s expression fell. They weren't dating, not properly, but he thought she would tell him if she was struggling, apparently not. “You should’ve told me earlier – I could have helped you.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“Lily…”

She took in a deep breath, wiped at her eyes and looked back up to him, “We need to go in. My dad will be wondering where I am.”

“Talk to me,” Drake pleaded.

“I can't,” she snapped. “Okay? I just can’t. Now, I need to go in there-”

“And act like everything’s fine? Like you didn't just have a panic attack?” Drake asked, raising his voice, although he didn't mean to. He was worried about her. He was frustrated.

Tears welled in her eyes when she looked up to him. “Yes.”

Drake shook his head in disbelief, “You know, we all need a little help sometimes. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It is if you are in my family. You think my father will, what show me affection? Kindness because I can't keep it together? Look how he treated Liam. I mean, Leo had to drag you back because my dad was awful to him. He punished him for being scared. Or how he made it all much worse for Leo when he was depressed a few years ago. We’re not allowed to be scared, Drake. We have to carry on when it feels like the fucking walls are closing in on us,” she explained, “That's just the way it is. There’s no changing it. There’s no talking about it to him. Ever.”

“I’m here. Talk to me,” Drake encouraged.

“And say what? That it feels like time is collapsing in on itself, that every day, hour, minute, hell every second just blends in together to create this suffocating, vicious, never ending loop?”

“Yes! Lily...I’m worried about you,” Drake revealed, “I just want you to talk to me or anyone! I just want you to be okay.”

“I am,” she shrugged.

“Ignoring it won't make it go away. Believe me.”

“So suddenly you’re the expert?” Lily scoffed, “look, I’m dealing with it...it’s getting better. This is the first panic attack I've had in a month...What are you doing here anyway?”

“Your dad was wondering where you were- asked me to come and find you,” Drake explained.

“Well then-” she started,wiping once again at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress to try and remove the dripping mascara away by looking at her reflection in the mirror, then smoothed down her dress sniffled as she looked back up to Drake. “It’s best not to keep the king waiting,” she said, her voice monotone as she pushed past him and toward the ballroom.

“So that’s it, you’re not gonna talk about it?” Drake asked, calling after her.

“Nope!”

#wacky drabble #the royal romance fanifc #trr #trr choices #drake x oc #'

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bubbleweirdo · 4 years

Text

Alegría

RE-UPLOAD

Chapters: 1/?

Next chapter

Summary: After her parents death, Joy Collins must take care of her brother and the small farm they live in. However this is not always easy and one night their lives change drastically.

Words: 2035

Main relationship: Javier Escuella/OC

Other relationships: Charles Smith/OC, Arthur Morgan/OC

Characters: Van der Linde gang, OCs

A/N: I’ve translated this writing from spanish to english because that’s my first language, so I’m sorry if there are grammatical errors. This is my first fic since I was like... Fourteen... And... Welp, it’s probably really cringey but I’ve been trying my best to write in a coherent way (some of my OCs in this fic are PoC -they don’t appear in this chapter tho- and I’m insecure because I want to treat them in the most respectful way I can, so if I portray them badly please, tell me) And well I’m basically PANICKING right now because I want to do everything RIGHT. So... yeah. Have fun with this if you can :’)

---

1898

Everything started when Cyrus, her ex lover, showed up at her house.

It was already a couple years since the siblings Joy and Tommy Collins lived alone. Their parents passed away from tuberculosis leaving their older daughter in the care of their small farm and her younger brother.

Joy had no choice but to become a mother for Tommy, doing everything possible so that they both would survive. Thomas' birth was welcome but unexpected news for the Collins. Joy was fourteen years old when the little one came into the world and even though in the moment it was already a reason for joy, now, nine years later she couldn’t imagine her life without helping him get on her mare every morning, fighting in the mud after a day of rain or singing him a lullaby at bedtime while stroking his copper curls.

The girl occasionally went to Valentine to sell or buy provisions and have a drink at the saloon, even spending a night with some attractive man every now and then. Sometimes she even yearned for some of the women who were hanging around, but she had never dared to speak to any of them. However, since the death of her parents, those night escapes had ended.

Her most recent lover had been Cyrus Kimble, the man who had knocked on her door that night. He was a tall fellow with sharp features and light blue eyes. His gaze had been kind at first but as soon as Joy started cutting her relationship with him, -partly because of her duties with the farm and Tommy, partly because she had begun to notice a certain possessiveness that she didn't like at all-, Cyrus started to show his true nature. When he saw her in Valentine he followed her, sometimes crying, other times demanding. Occasionally, like this time, he would show up at her farm begging her to come back with him.

However this night he didn’t beg. He pounded on the door, yelling for her to open it. Tommy had just finished braiding her long reddish hair when the banging began. With a tired grunt, Joy got up and opened the door reluctantly.

“What do you want, Cyrus? I’ve already told you-” A heavy silence formed as she realized she was being pointed at by a revolver. She looked him in the eye and he just stared back at her with an emotion she couldn’t identify. She swallowed hard. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to free you, Joy. You won’t have to take care of your farm or your brother. You can stay with me, nothing will stop you.” A smile formed on the man's face, more to himself than to her. He tugged on her arm and pulled her away from the door. “Guys!” he yelled, without letting go or stop aiming at her. Two men appeared in the dark and began to tie her hands. She didn't try to resist but took advantage of Cyrus's confidence at the moment to ram him with her shoulder, causing him to lose his balance and shoot up. Without losing time, she bit his ear. Quickly, Kimble's men pulled her away from him and pinned her to the ground, using the opportunity to tie her legs. Joy spat out Cyrus' blood as he gasped, being assisted by a third man.

“Damn whore!”

“Tommy! Tommy! Take Berry and run!” she screeched, trying to turn to look at her house, but a blow knocked her unconscious.

“Fuck… I'll carry her on my horse… Elijah, James, burn down the house and the barn, Jasper, be sure to kill the boy.”

Tommy had seen everything from the window of the house and as soon as he heard that he didn’t hesitate to run to the back door and go for Berry, his sister's mare.

“He ain’t here!” he heard Jasper say. “Of course he’s not idiot, he just ran out to the barn!” his partner replied. The boy didn’t even think about saddling, he climbed onto a stool, mounted Berry without any hesitation and left the barn riding at a gallop. He looked back and saw that at least one of them was following him. Panicking, he spurred the mare and got a little more ground, but it wasn’t long before his pursuer closed the distance and started shooting. Approaching the Little Creek river he could see a small camp on the other side.

“Help!” he yelled. “Help!” Four figures rose in alarm and at that moment a force outside him caused him to fall from the mount. A throbbing pain shot through his shoulder and his vision blurred as he watched Berry run away.

A few more shots and he heard a scream and a splash in the water. Someone in the distance managed to grab the mare by the bridles and reassure her. A man with slicked back black hair applied pressure to the wound.

“He’s a kid!” he exclaimed, without really addressing him. “"Hold on boy, you're going to get out of this. The bullet...” At that moment Tommy lost consciousness.

The light of dawn woke him up. Little by little the memories of that night came back to him and he sat up suddenly, disorientated. A scream escaped his lips as he felt a puncture in his left shoulder. Alarmed, he looked down to find it bandaged. Increasingly confused, he looked around, looking for any signs of the men who raided his house.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Commented a large man with a thick beard. “Dutch, the boy has woken up!” he exclaimed turning. A man dressed in an elegant red and black vest with gold chains hanging over it approached the bonfire where his enormous companion and another fellow –a guy with a scar on his chin that wouldn’t let his beard grow at that spot- were sitting around. Tommy recognized him then, he was the man who had picked him up when he fell from Berry. The memory of his mare made him react.

“Berry! Joy!” he tried to get up but the pain was too much.

“Easy, boy.” The man hurried over to him and helped him lie down again. “If you are worried about your mare: she is here, don’t worry. She didn’t go far and Javier managed to reassure her.” He put his hand to his forehead to take his temperature. “Dammit, he’s burning Arthur!”, the guy with the disparate beard nodded. “I’m on it.” He said as he got up with a cloth and approached the river. Dutch gestured to the one standing by the fire and he passed him a canteen for the boy to drink.

Tommy drank the water, grateful. It seemed like weeks since the last time he drank something.

“My… My sister…” he managed to say. “They took her. The men who were chasing me took my sister. It was Cyrus Kimble, he was always after her to go with him but Joy always rejected him. Last night he burned our house and ordered to kill me. I must find her sir, I don’t know what I will do without her.” A sob escaped his throat at the thought of what might have happened to his sister. The man scratched his chin with his hand, rings adorning his fingers.

“Boy, you’re in no condition to do that… you’re not even armed.”

“Help me sir, I beg you…” At that moment Arthur approached with the soaked cloth and placed it on the boy’s forehead. Meanwhile Dutch had fallen into a reflective silence. “Alright.” He answered at last. “Any idea where they may have taken her?”

“Thank you very much sir! I think Joy mentioned that he lived in a cabin around Wallace Station.”

“Arthur, go find Mr. Cyrus Kimbler. Take Javier with you. Bill and I will take the boy to camp, Miss Grimshaw will take better care of him than we do.”

The man got up and called Javier, a latino man who was standing guarda round the small camp where they had settled. They both got on their horses -a amber champagne Missouri Fox Trotter and a grey overo American Paint- and they went downriver.

Joy had woken up nauseated and with a metallic taste in the mouth. She still had the aftertaste of Cyrus's blood on her tongue, and the blow to her temple had taken its toll. Furthermore, it seemed that that bite had not been very funny for her captor, since he had gagged her while she was unconscious. When he realized she had woken up, the man approached her.

“Oh, Joy. Why did you have to make everything so difficult? You didn't want to speak… ” As he spoke, the girl analyzed where she was. She recognized Cyrus's room, in the cabin in which he lived. She was sitting on the bed. There was a candle on the nightstand, maybe if she got close she could burn the ropes.

He grabbed her neck and pulled up, forcing her to her feet awkwardly. The other hand caressed her cheek. “This could all have been different, honey. We could have been happy... But your brother had to meddle. Luckily, he won't bother us anymore.”

Anger boiled Joy's blood. She wanted to head butt him, but the movement only served to unbalance her and Cyrus's hand tightened on her throat.

It was then when they hard screams and gunshots. They both looked towards the door of the room, startled. Soon they stopped hearing it.

“Elijah! James! What happened?”

Silence.

“Elijah…?”

The door burst open and two men pointed their revolvers at them.

“Who are you?” he exclaimed furiously as he took out his own, pointing it alternately at each one. "What have you done to Elijah and James?"

"Your little friends have run away as soon as we've started shooting... Cyrus." replied the one closer, with brown hair and blue eyes.

“How do you know my name?”

“We only want the girl, her brother is looking for her. You can choose: you let her go or you die here.”

“What…? No! No, no, no! Never! Joy and I will be together forever! Forev-! What's that smell?” he turned, following the burning smell. The girl had taken advantage of the fact that he had released her neck to walk discreetly to small steps towards the nightstand and to burn enough the cords that tied her wrists so that they would break when trying to separate them. “No! Nooo!” he roared desperately, pouncing on her.

Without wasting time and trying not to lose her balance, she picked up the candle and stabbed it into his eye, pulling him back between squeals. The two men lowered their weapons, the latino whistled in surprise. She hastily removed the rag from her mouth and untied the ankle ties. She stepped over Cyrus and stood in front of her rescuers.

“It seems like you didn't need our help.” commented the brunette.

“Of course not.” the other agreed.

“Don't be silly, if you hadn't appeared he would have-”

“Watch out!” one of them exclaimed, while the other shot in her direction. Frightened, Joy closed her eyes expecting pain but instead she heard a body falling to the ground. She turned and saw Cyrus lying on the ground with a hole in his head. A chill ran down her spine, not because of his death, but because of what he could have done to her if he were still alive.

“It seems he didn't want to let you go, ese malnacido…” The latino pointed, putting his gun back.

“Miss…” his partner started, not knowing how to continue. She looked back at the corpse, still wondering what that man would have been able to do, before breathing in relief and responding.

“Joy Collins.”

“Miss Joy, I'm Arthur Morgan, this is Javier Escuella.” The man greeted with a nod. “We found your brother being chased by one of Mr. Kimble's friends on the banks of the Little Creek river. We managed to save him but a bullet hit him in the shoulder. We believe he will survive, but we have moved him to... our camp.”

"It's okay. I will go with you.”

#Javier Escuella/Reader #Javier Escuella x Reader #Javier Escuella/OC #Javier Escuella x OC #Red Dead Redemption 2 #RDR2 #Fanfic #My writing

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lettersofwrittencollective · 5 years

Text

The Pull (24/?)

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: 2242

Warnings:

A/N: So let me know what you think :) I wanted something cute and I absolutely adore Melissa McCall. Hopefully, I did her justice!

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

You watch as Melissa gives Stiles a shot that knocks him out. When she tucks him in, you hear him thank her but it’s what he calls her that surprises you. It apparently surprises her as well because she pauses before she finishes putting the blanket on him.

“You guys are really important to him, aren’t you?” you ask her softly, thinking of the way that Stiles trusts Scott and now this.

She looks at him, that adoring look that mothers have for all their kids gleaming in her eyes before she turns to you and nods her head. “He means just as much to us.”

She crosses the room and before you realize it, she’s put her hands on your shoulders and is directing you towards the chair in the room. You obligingly sit down, she cups your face and then looks you in the eye before her eyes are roving the rest of your face.

Confused, you sit there and basically allow her to complete her inspection of you. As she’s inspecting you she begins to ask questions, “So, you’re friends with Isaac?”

You nod your head and as she pulls back, she raises an eyebrow at you. “And you’re friends with Scott and Stiles?”

“I mean more Stiles than Scott I would say but I guess so,” you say with a shrug. Melissa tilts her head as she looks at you. The room is silent for a moment and you’re not sure what she’s thinking or what you’re supposed to say.

She shrugs her shoulders before grabbing the bottle she had used with Stiles the midazolam. At your questioning look, she says “You are almost as sleep deprived as Stiles and you, also, need your rest.”

You shake your head, “That Ummm, that won’t work on me.”

“Of course not. I forgot for a moment there.” She says with a sigh and sets both the needle and the vial down. She sighs and motions for you to follow her. It takes you a moment after she’s left, not sure that you like the idea of leaving Stiles on his own, but you follow the curly haired woman out and she shows you to another patient room.

Stepping into the room, you sit on the edge of the bed she motions to. She starts to ask you some basic questions and puts together a chart for you. You’re not sure you quite understand why seeing as you’re not being admitted but you go with it.

Once she’s asked you the questions that she needs to you ask if you can go back and check on Stiles. She gives you an odd look and you can feel your body warming. You’re about to try and make something up when she asks, “What is he to you?”

“My friend.”

She gave you a look like she was trying to decide if you were lying to her or not. Refusing to look away, you waited for her to push back. After a moment, she seems to make up her mind that you aren’t lying to her or that she’s going to accept your words as they are.

She nods her head and you thank her for her time before making your way back to room 315. Once you get there, you sit in one of the chairs against the wall and try to get as comfortable as possible. Pulling a notebook from your backpack, you open the page back up to the one of the weird vision or whatever it was you’d had when the electricity had struck you the night Barrow had kidnapped Kira.

Though you weren’t exactly sure what they all had in common you and Stiles had been able to find some myths that may have something to do with what you had seen. There was the story of Anansi, a West African trickster. One of his stories that fit because he’d apparently had to carry the coffin of a court jester after he’d killed him.

You know that Hermes’ Rod of Asclepius had been used to save you from the eagle which you’re not sure what that means. That was one of the things that also confused you, why would an eagle

Pulling out your phone, you looked up eagles and what they mean in different cultures. The problem is that there are so many of them. You weren’t sure what kind of eagle had been in the vision but the most popular it seemed was the Golden Eagle. Closer to home, there was the Eagle that sat on Yggdrasil. The First Nations people had their own stories about Eagles and each of those were as diverse as the groups of people they came from.

You’d written each of these down and some small descriptions for each over the course of an hour or so but none of them seemed to actually work or make sense to you. Crossing them out, you found yourself becoming increasingly more and more frustrated with what you had and what had been crossed out.

It didn’t take you long to figure out that you were on the wrong track with what you had found. Tearing out the paper and wadding it up, you growled as you thew it towards the trash bin. Of course, because that’s just the kind of luck you'd had recently, Melissa had opened the door without you noticed and you’d hit her in the head.

She stopped for a moment, surprise flickering across her features and was closer to the wad of paper, she bent to pick it up. “Paper giving you a hard time?”

Covering your face with your hands, you apologized to her before getting up and taking the paper from her. A sigh escapes your lips and you shake your head, “Not the paper. More just this- dream? That I had and there was a lot going on. Trying to figure out if any of it means anything.”

“Well, what was the dream about?”

You pause for a moment and look at her, she seems to recognize your hesitance because she holds her hand out in the typical “give me that” parental gesture you’ve seen so many times. Handing the paper over to her, you watch as she uncrumpled it and looks at the information you’ve written about what eagles can mean to different cultures.

“So umm, yeah… It was kind of weird but then aren’t all dreams? There was a spider with a box that Stiles and I have figured out seems to make the most sense with one of the stories associated with Anansi, a trickster. Then there was an eagle trying to kill me, it was this huge eagle that was swooping down like I was going to be this little field mouse for its dinner but it was then impaled by Hermes’ Rod of Asclepius.”

Melissa gave you a look that you could only describe as shocked. You chuckle and nod your head. “Pretty sure that would be my face if someone elsewhere to tell me the same thing. It was just so, weird. And then that tree that Stiles told you about?” You waited for her to nod her head, “The tree was there and so was,” you faltered mid-sentence. Unsure if you should tell Melissa it was Stiles.

“Stiles?” You looked at her and could feel yourself begin to panic.

“How did you-” you trailed off as you tilted your head in her, hands motioning towards her in your confusion.

Lifting her hand, Melissa counted off, “Well you haven’t left his side since he basically got here. Whenever Scott talks about Stiles nowadays your name comes up as well, he seems to be pretty attached to you, and you looked at him just now. So, what happened with Stiles?”

“He was at the tree, the Nemeton, surrounded by fireflies and a- umm a Valkyrie was reaching out towards him.”

“A Valkyrie?”

You have to think about it for a second, “Umm so they’re from the Norse pantheon. Basically, women who were the ones that choose which of the dead on a battlefield have earned a place amongst the warriors of Valhalla.”

Melissa raises an eyebrow at you like it’s not the craziest thing she’s heard but she really wishes it was. Waiting for her to respond, you flatten out the paper you’d been working on and put it back in the notebook, figuring you may get someth8ng more out of it later when you’re not as frustrated.

“You don’t think it was just any kind of dream do you?” She asked you softly, horror underlying her voice.

Sinking back down into the chair, rubbing your face, which is becoming a terrible habit, you run your nails across your scalp before responding, “It wasn't a dream. It happened the night that we saved Kira from Barrow.” At Melissa’s look of confusion, you continued, “There was some kind of electrical thing and I must have gotten hit with some electricity cause the next thing I knew This is what I was seeing.”

“You think it was some kind of vision?” she asks and when you nod your head, she looks over to Stiles. “Is he in trouble?”

“I’m not sure. There was a reference to that trickster tale, but the Rod is a healers thing and I haven’t been able to figure out the eagle, the fireflies or the Valkyrie.”

“I thought you said the Valkyrie was Norse?”

“Yeah, but they’re supposed to be picking warriors for Valhalla. Why would there be one going after Stiles if he’s not dead?”

“So they only take the dead?”

“Ye-” you trailed off as you remembered the stories of Brünhild, the Valkyrie that had gone against Odin because she favored a younger king and Svafa, who had fallen in love with a mortal man. They were stories that your mother had told you when you were little. Stories that you had thought romantic as a child though now you weren’t so sure if they were romantic, heart-breaking or just plain dumb. “No, they can influence a battle to swing one way or the other. They’re fallible and can be swayed by their emotions…Ugh, why can’t these things ever be clear?”

Melissa chuckled and then came over to sit on the arm of the chair you were in. Putting an arm around your shoulders, she pulled you into a hug. “Oh, sweetheart, very few things in life are ever clear. Take it from someone who has a couple years of experience in it.”

“Tell you what,” she continued, “I’ve been looking into werewolves and have come across quite a bit of Greek myths outside of the regular Zeus, Hades, and gang. I’ll go back through and see if I can find anything about an Eagle and then help you look into the others as well.”

You thank her for the offer and she gets up to go check on Stiles. You watch as she takes his vitals and notes the information in his chart. He’s still asleep through all of this and you can’t help but feel relieved that he’s getting some rest.

“When was the last time you had a good night's rest?”

You’re caught off guard by the question. You’d been so distracted by Stiles you hadn’t noticed that Melissa had completed her check and since you were the only other person in the room, well, it had to be you.

Contemplating the question, it takes you a moment to realize, “It’s been literal months since the last time. It’s always one thing or another that wakes me up.”

She cups your face in the same way that your aunt used to before the insanity got the best of her, and you can feel your heart clench painfully and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to not break down in tears at that moment.

You can see the worry in her eyes and you shake your head. “I promise, I am getting more sleep than he is. Just the other day I fell asleep at his house and he let me sleep for like 4 hours… I think it was 4. That was probably the best nap I’d had in a while too. Besides, it’s not like I need a whole lot of sleep anyways.”

She sighs and it sounds like in that sigh is a heavy weight that you can practically feel reverberating through the room. “Alright, well I’m off in a couple hours. You’ll come with me and we’ll get you a change of clothes and some food then you can come stand vigil.”

“But-”

“No arguments. He’s here, he will be safe for an hour or two while you get some actual food in your system and some clean clothes,” she cuts you off with a pointed look at what you have on.

Looking down you realize that you’re still in the black leggings from last night with Stiles’ flannel thrown over your torso. You should feel embarrassed or sheepish. Your skin should be heating up but, interestingly, you find that you’re oddly kind of proud of the outfit you have on. Melissa’s not wrong though, you do need to get into clean clothes and you need some actual food. So, you nod your head and she leaves.

You must have dozed off because the next thing you know, you’re being woken by a knock at the door.

<<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 @jasmin3xwayz319 @dear-vista @fangirlbitch02 @riseandshinelittleblossom @jessicakimba @truthdaze @seninjakitey @kateeee0817 @squadkyoya @lucifersnipnips @niawoods @pansexualbitchesofhell @bloodrose-scythe @fox-in-a-mousetrap-8 @findingmyselfinthismessedupworld@shantayok @yougottalovefandoms

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 15 May 2019

#Reader insert #stiles #Stiles x reader #Stiles imagine #stiles imagines #Stiles Stilinkski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #Teen Wolf #Teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf rewrite #The Pull #my writing #series

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imyourliquor-youremypoison · 5 years

Text

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 6

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.The dogs in the story play a minor but key role.

Word count: 2.5k

Part 5 <<< >>> Part 7

MASTERLIST

He couldn’t believe she was once again teasing him, getting a thrill out of his reaction. It was a real skill she had.

“Don’t be so modest, I saw the way you threw the ax, Parker. I don’t know what you’re trying to hide under that baggy sweatshirt of yours, but I admit I’m getting curiouser and curiouser. Makes me wonder how jacked you are under there.”

Peter’s face went through fifty shades of red in the span of five seconds, and Emmeline was beyond proud of herself for making him blush like that. She did seem to have a certain talent in embarrassing Peter; hopefully he knew it was all in good grace and she didn’t mean ill.

She twirled her empty cup between her fingers, smiling wickedly.

“You just love to see me wriggle in my chair when you say something like that,” he accused her.

“I’m not lying, though.” She raised a brow. “Emmeline Gerard only has one word, and it is true.”

Emmeline Gerard was also a huge flirt and if Peter wasn’t so dense, he would notice it. That was a typical male thing: to not see when a woman was openly hitting on them and then complain that they are always the ones who are expected to take the first step.

“Don’t care.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest – maybe to show off his biceps, maybe to show her he was mad, he wouldn’t admit to either. “I feel objectified all the same.”

“Here, have a cookie, you’ll feel better,” Emmeline enjoined him, pushing the treat towards him. “I didn’t mean it, quit sulking.”

“Oh, so you think I’m fat?” he asked in mock-offense as he grabbed the cookie and bit into it.

They both laughed and she swatted his shoulder for acting like an idiot.

“I’ll forgive you on one condition,” he started, the laughter dying down as he looked at her, locking his gaze on her and uncrossing his arms.

Her smile dropped.

“I’m not going to like it, am I?” she asked in a sigh. “Alright, I guess I brought this on myself. What do you wanna know?”

He wasn’t surprised that she had guessed what it was about. He hadn’t been able to think about anything else since she talked about her parents an hour ago. He just needed to know what went on in her life – Emmeline was so secretive! He was the one with a secret alter ego, yet she acted like she was secretly Batman.

He began to fidget, brows furrowed as he proceeded to tell her something he rarely ever brought up.

“It’s more of a request, actually. I- euh, I’m an orphan too,” he stated, making her drop her jaw and stop playing with her empty cup. “I understand better than anyone why you don’t like to talk about your parents, biological or adopted. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you ever want to talk to someone… you know, instead of throwing sharp deadly weapons around-“ He smiled a little and she mirrored the expression. They had both sobered up pretty quickly after his opening statement. “You can talk to me.”

She shrugged.

“I don’t remember much; I wouldn’t know what to say even if I wanted to talk about it. I was so young…” She sighed, eyes not leaving his. “My adoptive parents are the only ones I know, and they are basically strangers to me. What about you? Any luck in that area?”

“I wasn’t really adopted like you think.” Peter chewed on his lip and rubbed his chin. “One day my parents left me in the care of my aunt and uncle, and they just never came back. Plane crash,” he explained. “I can remember them but sometimes I forget what they looked like. It’s scary to think that I could forget them entirely one day.”

“How’s life with your aunt and uncle?” Emmeline pushed him, the eagerness visible in the way she stared wide-eyed, fingers tugging at her sleeve.

“My uncle died when I was in high school, during a robbery gone wrong.” Jesus Christ, it hurt to talk about it, more than he had anticipated, but he could see that his words finally reached her, moved her. They acted like a key unlocking something. She was drinking up his every word. “Life was good with them. Aunt May is the best, and I couldn’t have asked for better parents than them.” He swallowed with difficulty, wondering what kind of parents he had before that fateful plane crash.

His increasingly dark train of thought was interrupted when he felt a warm hand resting on his closed fist. He looked up again, finding Emmeline’s concerned eyes set on him.

“But enough with the pathetic story of my life.”

Slowly, he loosened his fist, relaxing under her touch. Emmeline didn’t move her hand, rather she let her fingers slip in his now unstrained fist.

“I’d drink to that if my cup wasn’t empty,” Emmeline chuckled, humorlessly. He watched her mood shift under his eyes, becoming bitter. She sucked in her cheeks and focused on their joined hands. “Did you vote for my father at the last election?”

“… yes,” Peter admitted, feeling it wasn’t the right answer though it was the truth.

“I didn’t. I told him I did, of course. He never even considered I could vote for someone else; it was a given that the family would vote for him.”

“Why didn’t you?” Peter asked in what was barely above a whisper. Her aura exuded rancor.

“I’m not a difficult person, or at least, I don’t think so. I never wished for all the things I have today, all the… the money, the reputation, the social status… It was all so abstract to the little girl I was. I just wanted parents, you know?”

Peter nodded; he thought he knew where she was going.

“But it wasn’t what I got. I would often cry about it to my friends in the beginning, but quickly got shut down. I found out at an early age that people do not pity the rich, even if it’s a crying little girl who longs for some form of parental love,” she spat out the last part, still resenting the people who had turned their back on her when she needed them. It was Peter’s turn to squeeze her hand. “So, here you go. That’s why I’m such a stuck-up bitch today. No one’s ever told me it was okay to talk about how I feel, until a few months ago.”

“What happened a few months ago?”

Peter’s entire body had tensed up at this point. He could hear his blood pulsing in his temples and waited for the bomb. He already knew the answer, but it would have been strange not to ask. He was the one who told her to talk to a friend, that someone cared, that someone would listen.

Emmeline seemed to recompose herself and shook her head a little, letting him go and pushing away her cup, clearing her throat. When she looked up, the dark clouds in her eyes had dissipated.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” she said with a forced laugh, turning her attention to the window. “I hadn’t realized it was already dark outside, I should get going. Bella’s waiting for me.”

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he asked, accepting that this was as much information he would get for today and thinking about nothing but the night he found her being pressed against a wall, blouse ripped open, a man with a hand down his pants all over her.

He saw the hesitation cross her face, but she must have had the same thought as him; she stood up and grabbed her coat before looking at him.

“Yes, please.”

That night Peter broke one of his own new rules and stopped by her place on his way back from a mission. He couldn’t help it, as much as he had tried.

When he knocked on the window, Bella immediately began to jump excitedly, pawing at the glass and barking. It must have been double glazing because he barely heard a thing at all. Emmeline soon walked into the living room, toothbrush in her mouth, raising her arms in a “what the fuck man” gesture. At least, that was how Peter interpreted it.

She walked back where she came from, and reappeared a minute later, with no more toothbrush.

“Thought you wouldn’t come here again,” she said as a way of greeting him when she opened the French window, letting Bella out to greet him properly.

“At least someone’s happy to see me,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her as he sat down to play with her dog. “I totally just came to see Bella by the way, you can go back inside.”

Emmeline wasn’t amused and she let him know.

“Alright, alright. I just wanted to see how far along you were this that deal of ours,” he told her, raising both hands in surrender.

“How-“ she made a helpless hand gesture. “How do you know? How can you possibly know that I finally talked to someone today? Who the fuck are you?”

“Ugh, language, young lady,” he giggled, standing up to talk to her at eye-level. “Let’s say I have a spider sense that tells me those things.”

“This is very weird.”

“How is it any weirder than feminine intuition? I’m listening.”

“Half the human population has it,” she stated, point blank. “It’s a real thing, unlike your… spidey- tingle.”

“Spider sense,” he corrected her.

“Same difference.”

“You are being very difficult tonight. I thought you’d be in a lighter mood now that you unburdened yourself a little bit,” he whined, pointing a finger at her. Emmeline didn’t give two shits that he was Spider-Man, she swatted his accusing finger away and took a step forward.

“Tone it down a notch, Spidey-boy,” she warned him. “I held my end of the bargain, now I get to be in whatever mood I want.”

“It wasn’t a bargain; I didn’t promise anything in exchange.”

“Well then I want something.” She planted her feet firmly on the ground, and her hands on her hips.

Peter sighed, regretting this impromptu visit already, though he couldn’t deny he loved their superhero and civilian banter. The way she stood up to him would have made him shrivel away a few years back, but he was glad he had grown out of his awkward teenager phase and could stand up for himself now.

Though the awkward teenage still showed once every now and then, most of the time when she said something saucy.

“I’m not swinging you around New York,” he warned her. “Last time I did that, the girl got sick.”

“That’s not what I want,” Emmeline scoffed, waving her hand to dismiss his idea. “Who would ask for that anyway? We’re in December, my nose would freeze and fall off.”

“Alright, name your price then, princess.”

“Do not start using pet names, or I will wipe the floor with your ass, Spidey-boy.” For a second, he thought she just might. “Just promise make sure that what happened to me doesn’t happen to another girl, yeah? That’s my price.”

Peter wasn’t expecting this request, but he nodded without thinking about it. It was a given.

“I will.”

“Good. Now fuck off of my balcony. I was going to bed,” she shooed him away, like you did to a stray cat.

“You’re so mean to me!”

“It’s tough love, baby!” She laughed and waved him goodbye through the window, waiting until he left, and Bella strutted back inside to close the door. “He’s a bit strange for a superhero, don’t you think?”

Emmeline never talked about Spider-Man to Peter, but he could still see the way their late-night chats affected her moods. She was often less grumpy when he visited her. It made him feel terrible because they were both becoming dependent on his visits, and as odd as it might sound, Peter was jealous of his alter ego. Jealous because Emmeline seemed to like Spider-Man better than Peter Parker.

But Emmeline didn’t sit next to Spider-Man in class, she sat next to Peter, and for that he was infinitely grateful. She was better than him in physics anyway, it was a nice change from always being the nerdy one. Then again, when you’re a biophysics post-grad, the chances of you being the only nerd in the room were very slim.

“Will you be my partner?” she asked him, bursting his little bubble of silent contemplation. He hadn’t realized he had zoned out in the middle of class until she spoke up.

“Uh?” was all he was capable of answering.

“The assignment. We should do it together, partner-up,” she clarified. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

Peter flinched and grimaced a little, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No?”

“You’ve being doing that a lot lately. Don’t you sleep at night?”

Not as much as I’d like, he thought. Somehow, when he wasn’t visiting her as Spider-Man, it was because he was hanging out with her as Peter Parker, and the rest of the time he spent on Spider duty. He knew he was heading towards burn out, but he couldn’t hit the breaks either.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” he replied in a failed attempt to sound cool. She narrowed her eyes at him. “But I’ll do the assignment with you, sure. I’ll need your notes though, I have some catching up to do.”

“Not a problem.” She pulled out her agenda to scribble something down. “Since you were daydreaming again, let me recap for you: the assignment is due January 8th, jot that down. I’ll bring my notes this Thursday when we meet at the library, is that okay?”

“You’re the best,” Peter told her with a crooked smile that was meant to be charming. Emmeline rolled her eyes.

“Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation.”

“When should we start working then?” he asked, changing the subject. Another thing he noticed: she didn’t like compliments.

“We can start tonight if you want. You won’t need my notes to decide on a topic and get started,” she suggested. “My place, 7p.m.?”

A resounding alarm began to pound in Peter’s head, reminding him that one meeting with her dog would give him away on the spot.

“Didn’t you say Bella doesn’t like strangers?” he questioned, trying to find a way out of this. “We won’t get much done if she’s busy barking up at me.”

“She’s not home at the moment. She must have eaten something bad because she kept vomiting and whining. I brought her to the vet, she’ll be back at the end of the week.”

Peter knew how much she loved Bella, and the pitiful sigh she let out at the end of her explanation constricted his heart. There he was, trying to dodge out of a study session with the girl he liked to preserve his secret identity, while she was lonely in her huge apartment because her beloved four-legged companion was sick.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure she’ll be alright.” She nodded and forced a smile. “And tonight works fine for me.”

“Bring Tessa, I haven’t seen her in a week.”

Reblog to save a writer

Taglist: @of-virtuoso

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chestnutroan · 5 years

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Who is Ben? Have you talked about this character before?

Ben is my sole survivor, and my longest standing oc. I’ve posted a LOT of art of him but I’ve always put off talking about him at length but now I’m out of the rough when it comes to having the will to do anything, ill talk about him!

Frank (Benjamin) Romara was born in 2044 in Arkansas to African/Italian parents. When he was 13, he, his parents and his younger brother Gene were uprooted to Boston under absolutely no single good reason given at the time from his father. His dad died probably not a year later, and combined with the massive change of life Ben’s education went down the shitter, and he had to repeat freshman year. At the end of what should have been his sophomore year he got put in a program for “at risk youth”.

[Detail about him, about Nick Valentine and Fallout Lore etc under the cut!]

The program was basically about increasing the amount of people entering government related jobs, because due to rising contempt less and less people were going down that path, and that’s bad for a whole lot of reasons, for the government at least. When it was first conceived of, it was more of a support scheme for kids not going onto greater things, but it expanded to where it was mandatory for any teen that met the requirements to be put through the system and spat out with more allegiance to their country. Ben checked off a lot of boxes, being poor, having bad grades etc. And at first Ben didn’t really mind all that much, given his lack of direction it was comforting to know that he’d be able to find a stable job to support his family, and that was exactly what seemed to be promised to him. He hadn’t yet gained a fervent desire to see the government crumble, the only part of it he hated being cops, who brushed his dads murder off like it didn’t matter. plus, the program offered extensive healthcare (a leftover enticement from when the program was optional), and it looked like the only way he’d be able to transition.

It wasn’t long, however, before it became increasingly apparent how insidious the program really was. For one thing, he was to be put into work (or training for whatever he will be assigned) at 18, meaning he’d have to leave high school with a sophomore level education. This was, of course, by design to keep the kids entering the workforce in that same workforce. When he was 17, he took a GOAT and got given two options: enter the police force or the US army. He didn't want to do absolutely either, but he picked the former, just because it seemed like his only shot to stay with his family. By the time he was 21, he’d become a detective, and before he could ever start to work on his own soil he was transferred to Chicago due to lack of workforce there.

And all over again, he’d been plucked out of what he knew and dunked somewhere else, and worse yet, he doesn’t even have anyone he knows to help him go through it. Most of the people at his station don’t really want anything to do with him, but he gets on with his job (his efficacy depending on whether or not he thinks hes doing the right thing), and quickly becomes the new hotshot ass hole there for his attention to detail, if not his actual ability to decipher motivations and piece things together. And this caught the attention of Nick Valentine.

Nick was the original hotshot ass hole ofc, and it was owed to this that Ben, despite being to be shown the ropes, that he didn’t partner with the new guy despite being the only person there who could have helped him out. Nick was very, very good at his job, and due to his insecurities he wasn’t about to stop being the best and give people the chance to realise he doesn't get better than how effective he is at his work. I won’t get into the root of his insecurities, but he genuinely believes that he would lose all respect and that if he ever stopped being a try hard people would lose all reason to bother with him at all, and all he wants is for others reach out and be a friend to him. hes dealing with a lot of the same loneliness Ben is, but so long as he doesn't lose the facade of being a fully functional adult with a good job and a ‘loving’ wife he wont have to introspect and face who he thinks he is deep down (i.e. a man incapable of loving his wife romantically because of some personality fault he cant comprehend of how to fix as opposed to him just being gay and having a lot of internalised homophobia).

It takes Ben and Nick both reaching the point where they snap under the weight of the world they live in and the people who occupy it for them to come together. Nick ended up actually asking to take Ben on as a partner, and it took a lot of the load off of emotionally crippling work (serving a government neither of them believed in but being wholly incapable of escaping it, status quo being almost the only thing keeping them in place as opposed to trying to physically escape what they're doing together) but better yet, for nick, Ben helped bring out a side of him that wasn’t so afraid to be known by others, and he started opening up to other people at the same time as growing closer to him. (I think its important to like.not that nick doesn't wholly rely on Ben for all of his self esteem etc Ben is just a positive impact who gives him a space where nick can learn for himself that his worth doesn't depend on other peoples perception of him.) Nick realises that a lot of his negative perception/jealousy/etc of Ben when they first met was because he saw a lot of himself in him, Nick was in more or less him when he started some 5 or so years ago, and Nick helps Ben out in the way he wished someone had been there for him because he cares a hell of a lot about him and wants him to have the best chance at things.

And they grow into better people and just at the pique of things, where Nick is enjoying not being in an abusive relationship and staying with Ben while he gets back on his feet, Ben gets drafted and is trained at first to become a power armored foot soldier (standing at nearly 6′6″ he’d be a monument of fuck you to the enemy) but do to his deliberately bad aim with weapons, hes instead trained to pilot a vertibird, where hes then shipped off to anchorage. its there that he goes MIA after going against orders with his co pilot to provide medical assistance to a group of people stranded off from communication he spotted in flight earlier. Ben ended up glad later on that he and his co pilot were shot down, because for all 25 hours he was left dying in the snow, it meant that he didn't have to justify him going against orders by bringing back Chinese soldiers who’d end up a lot worse for wear than him. By the time his KIA status was revoked (they weren’t about to announce the miracle of his survival before they knew he’d survive lol) he’d already had a funeral, which Nick had attended, because I write like everything's a soap opera. but yeafksf him dying and attending his funeral left nick in a lot of grief, because he’d thought he’d have forever with Ben to go slow with him into being in a relationship and now Nick thought he’d never get that chance. and when they meet back up after it all when Ben returns it’s romantically charged to say the least.

Obviously I haven’t been sticking entirely to lore with this but the lore presented in fallout 4 is fucking bullshit so. i hesitate to call this a fix but i need to put in this disclaimer before i start spouting off. hey how about instead of nicks fiance getting iced jenny lands was actually his partner once he transferred to Boston to be with his husband to be, and she was cruelly twisted against her own intentions to try and kill nick because Eddie winter put her family in jeopardy and Eddie doing this was a coordinated attack towards them both that hes not just powerful enough to get revenge he can do it in such a way that they cant even trust the people around them. And nick got his mind juices squeezed or brain scanned whatever because of the resulting trauma of being shot by his best friend jenny. and also ‘Shaun’ is Ben and Nicks kid Max and upon learning later as a gen 2 that his son is the leader of a great source of trauma for nick hes forced to introspect in ways that have more tangible effects because his ability to decide who he is as a man ties into immediate problems And nick doesn't have to focus on revenge disguised as justice because he has a responsibility to live in the here and now.

Thank you for this ask!! I hope that was coherent enough to understand kjdsf if you have any more questions about him or anything else I talked about I’d be flattered to hear them!

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #nick valentine #sole survivor #Benjamin Romara #Anonymous

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choices-betch · 5 years

Text

Lost on You (Mona x MC)

Chapter I: when the party’s over Description: It’s been 6 years since the Mercy Park Crew split and Lexi is about to graduate from law school. Despite her valiant attempts to move’s on, an unexpected event sends her reeling in the past. Pairing: Mona x MC (Lexi Padilla); OC X MC Chapter warnings: some NSFW content, light cursing Notes: After the RoD ending I was NOT satisfied and needed to have some semblance of control and resolution with Mona lmao so here this is. I don’t know how many parts it will be; I’m estimating maybe 4? We’ll see where it takes me, but it’s gonna be angsty. Thank you to @pauclaws for the prompt that got the wheels turning! Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters. Song accompaniment: when the party’s over - Billie Eilish Tags: @maxwellsquidsuit @scarlet-letter-a0114 @whoinvitedalx

Chapter I: when the party’s over

Lexi gathered her belongings after handing in her last final, sighing in relief as she headed out the door; finally this hellish semester was over, and with that, her final year of law school. Lost in thoughts of what cheap wine she could snag and curl up on the couch with that evening to ignore the world around her, she was startled when she ran into something hard. She looked up to a grinning face, stepping out of the way to avoid blocking other students exiting.

“I know I’m sexy but damn, girl,” the man joked with a wink, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. Lexi grinned at him sheepishly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Sorry, Joel. Got distracted,” Lexi apologized, clearly embarrassed.

“My devilishly handsome features do tend to have that effect on people,” Joel responded with a wink, eliciting an eye roll from Lexi. “What are you off in a hurry for? Celebrating tonight?”

Lexi eyed him dubiously, shaking her head. “The most exciting part of my night will be deliberating between Zinfandel and Rosé.”

“Boooorriiiinng,” he chided, motioning for Lexi to walk with him. “Unacceptable. You just finished your last day ever of law school, girl! You’re coming with me and my friends to a club downtown.”

“Clubs aren’t really my thing,” Lexi responded with a cringe. On the rare occasion she went to one, she seemed to attract the people with the worst pick up lines, not to mention smells.

“It’s a gay club, trust,” Joel said dismissively, waving her off. “It’s gonna be fire.”

“I don’t have the money for that,” Lexi hesitated, her resolve crumbling.

“We’ll pre-game at my place.”

“I—“

“Nope!” Joel interrupted, “You’re coming. I’m not letting you rot alone on your couch in ratty ass grandma underwear when you could be gettin’ some ass. You’ve done nothing but throw yourself into school since I met you and I’ve had it! You’re coming with.”

Lexi barked out a laugh; he wasn’t wrong. They’d met on the first day of law school and for the last 2 years Joel had been trying to get Lexi out more, to help her relax...no such luck. Lexi finally relented, agreeing to go. After hashing out the details on where to meet, Lexi headed back to her studio in an effort to regain some energy for the night ahead. — Lexi shook her fingers through her hair as she doused it in hairspray in an attempt to secure her beach waves. She straightened up, staring at herself for an extended period of time before sighing. Lexi had thought getting a shoulder length cut a few months ago would make it easier to style, thus forcing her to do something with it, but clearly her hair was hopeless. A glimpse of a drawing in the background caught Lexi’s eye. The significance of this time of year wasn’t lost on her, as was the case with every year that passed. Six years later she still thought, what if...?

Despite Mona’s demand that Lexi forget about her and leave her alone, she couldn’t and wouldn’t. Lexi managed to figure out where Mona was being held (though found very little else) and wrote to her religiously...at first. But she never got a response, with one exception: her birthday. Every year she would get a hand drawn card, which she always treasured and had displayed in her room, but it was always followed by silence. That hurt worse than anything Mona had done. Just as Mona said - words meant nothing; it’s what you do that counts, and doing nothing said everything. Still, Lexi continued to write, less frequently as the years went by, and still, only a birthday card once a year.

She didn’t know why she couldn’t let go. It’d been a few months of passion followed by six years of absolutely nothing but those few and far between glimmers of hope that Mona had the same difficulty forgetting her. Still, those memories stayed with her as vivid as if they’d just happened. Sometimes, she could even swear she still felt Mona’s lips on her mouth, her neck…

Lexi snapped out of her thoughts, suddenly conscious of her fingers grazing her lips. She shook her head, gave her makeup and short black dress a once over one last time, then grabbed her belongings and headed to Joel’s.

She walked around the complex, glancing between her phone and the door numbers; surely she was missing an area, but after circling multiple times she was about to force Joel to come escort her.

“You look lost.” Lexi looked up in alarm, locking eyes with a woman gazing at her in amusement. “Sorry, I’ve just seen you circling around a few times. It was disorienting.”

“Why were you watching me for that long?” Lexi retorted, eyeing the woman cautiously and getting into a defensive stance. If this lady was some sort of serial killer, Lexi wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Whoa, calm down killer,” she joked, holding her hands up in defense. “I was smoking...a few times, actually. Social anxiety plus clubbing is not fun. Although you certainly look like you’re about to enjoy your evening.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lexi was growing frustrated, and she didn’t know why this random stranger was getting under her skin.

“I just meant you’re dressed to kill,” she clarified, scratching her neck. “Well, this went horribly awry. I only meant to offer to help you find what you’re looking for.”

Lexi relaxed slightly, eyeing the woman briefly before sighing. She wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. She gave the woman the unit she was looking for and the woman chuckled, looking around awkwardly.

“Yeah, it’s uh...down this way. Joel’s one of my best friends; heading out with the gang to celebrate his release from the prison of law school,” she joked. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

The woman introduced herself as Jordan, a software engineer that had been friends with Joel since undergrad. Lexi observed Jordan’s physical appearance for the first time. She wasn’t particularly tall - maybe 5’6 at the most - but she had a solid build accentuated by her button down and chinos. Her caramel hair was pulled back in a tight bun, strong jawline more prominent as a result. Lexi silently appreciated the view, knowing from her behaviors over the years that’s all it would be. After finally making it to Joel’s apartment and being introduced to his group of friends, everyone did a few tequila shots before requesting a Lyft.

Lexi squinted slightly as she entered the dark club, disoriented from the pulsing neon lights. She adjusted the band on her wrist as she looked around, following the group toward the bar.

“What are you drinking?” Jordan asked, her hand gently touching Lexi’s lower back. Lexi looked at her, dazed for a moment; it’d been a long time since an innocent touch felt that intimate. Not since…

Lexi cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Whiskey, on the rocks. Make it a double.”

The rest of the night flew by in a drunken blur of dancing and too many random bodies touching. Jordan got increasingly close over the night, and Lexi didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking or if she was really that desperate for intimacy, but she found herself back in a Lyft, making out intensely on their way to Jordan’s apartment. She didn’t know what she was doing. Sure, she found Jordan attractive and she definitely felt chemistry there, but there wasn’t anything special about this particular person. Why was she so torn, so desperate for this feeling?

Somehow they made it to Jordan’s apartment, tangled limbs stumbling through the door and to the bedroom where they wasted no time undressing.

“I’m so glad I came out tonight,” Jordan said against Lexi’s lips as they fell on the bed. Lexi kissed her harder; she didn’t want to talk, just feel. As Jordan’s lips moved down her neck, Lexi closed her eyes, hands going to Jordan’s hair.

Lexi ran her hands through Mona’s hair then pulled her into a passionate kiss, Mona’s half naked body conforming to hers. Mona pulled away slowly then shoved Lexi back onto the bed, smirking as she kissed up her body.

“If I do get killed because of the stupid brotherhood, it might be worth it.”

Lexi blinked back to reality, Jordan halfway down her body by now.

“Is this okay?” Jordan asked, pausing at her underwear. Lexi paused, mind racing as her breathing increased.

Lexi looked down at Mona, perched between her legs with a teasing grin. “You really want me, don't you?” Mona ran her thumb gently down Lexi’s folds, wetness coating her thumb as Lexi twitched slightly. “I can tell.”

“God, yes,” Lexi breathed as Mona glanced up at her, gently sucking the juices off her thumb. Lexi’s breathing hitched, Mona silently urging her to continue. “I want you to kiss me everywhere…”

Lexi nodded, her underwear quickly being pulled off and thrown to the side. Her mind was racing, stuck between the past and the present as it always seemed to be. Lexi gasped, her thoughts in the present for now at the shock of the intense feelings coursing through her body.

Lexi gripped her pillow, reaching down to grasp Mona’s hair in her hand as Mona’s tongue continued gliding against her.

“Mona, don’t stop...I’m...I’m gonna…”

Lexi’s eyes flew open as her climax overcame her, her legs trembling with every wave of pleasure. As Jordan kissed back up her body, Lexi flipped over quickly, silently and quickly making her way down Jordan’s body.

“You don’t waste time, do you?” Jordan joked breathily.

Lexi didn’t respond, continuing her way down, maintaining every effort to distract herself from the flashbacks she was having; to help her forget. The rest of the night went by in a blur, and next thing she knew she was staring at the clock on the bedside table. Lexi glanced to her right, Jordan sleeping deeply, then scanned the room for her clothes. She slowly got out of the bed, quietly grabbing her belongings before exiting the room. She hurriedly got dressed and requested a Lyft home before making her way out the door, closing it quietly behind her. — Lexi walked into her studio on autopilot and stood just past her doorway, dropping her keys and bag on the floor and staring blankly ahead. After a long moment she snapped out of it, closing the door behind her. She quickly began stripping and walked to the bathroom, her clothing leaving a trail behind her. She turned on the shower hastily, stepping in and under the water without waiting for it to warm. Squeezing a glob of soap onto her loofa, she began scrubbing her body roughly, furiously trying to clean off every touch, bite, lick on her skin; any trace of intimacy left on her body.

She’d been with men over the years, even casually dated a few, but ultimately something never fully clicked; they always felt more like friends. While she found plenty of women attractive over the years, something - someone - kept her from fully pursuing anything. For the first time tonight, she’d felt something since Mona. Perhaps she’d always thought nothing would compare - which she was still right about - but what she hadn’t prepared for was the emotional toll it took after the fact, and why: she didn’t want a connection like that with anyone else.

She paused her scrubbing, eyes stinging and breathing hitched slightly. The tears came quickly and freely, a mixture of anger, guilt and heartbreak. Why? Why did someone have to matter to her when nothing was ever meant to come of it? Why Mona, who clearly wasn’t bothered one way or the other? Why did she have to be so damn persistent instead of listening for once?

She slid down the shower wall, a sob escaping her mouth, allowing the water to beat down on her until it ran cold. Lexi finally calmed herself, standing to rinse her face before turning off the water. She dried herself off and threw on some bed clothes before making her way to her desk. Pulling out a piece of paper, she began to write.

She wrote about her anger, guilt, sadness, resentment; the difficulty she had enjoying any milestone or accomplishments in her life without thinking of Mona or wishing she were there, but most of all her seeming inability to meet anyone without comparing them to her. And they never compared. Lexi hastily scribbled the facility’s address on an envelope, stamped it, then walked to the corner to mail it before she could change her mind. Maybe this was what she needed to finally move on. Lexi walked back to her studio and headed to bed, curling her comforter closely around her as she drifted into a restless sleep. — 2 weeks later

Mona shoved her hands in her pockets as she approached her destination, having gotten dropped off a few blocks down the road to avoid traffic back up. She scanned her surroundings, glancing down at her phone for clarification of where she was headed, then continued on the path. After a few too many turns (and even more curse words), Mona finally made it to her destination, careful to do her best to blend into the background. Announcements had already begun, and Mona scanned the rows of chairs at the front for any sign of familiarity. After searching a few times, Mona’s sight focused on a familiar profile with much-shorter-than-she’d-remembered dark hair beneath a cap. She smirked; sexy.

Just then, the girl looked back, seemingly straight at Mona. Mona panicked, ducking behind other attendees as she moved farther out of view. She caught sight of the girl again, seeing her frown and look around for a few moments before turning to a man next to her.

Mona’s thumb grazed the edges of the folded letter she’d received just as she was about to be released. Perhaps it wasn’t a direct invitation, but there was certainly enough information for Mona to figure it out. Still, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and it kept Mona protected; in control. Mona stuck around until she saw what she came for, then headed out for her next mission. —

Lexi enjoyed brunch with a few classmates and her dad after the ceremony then headed home for a much needed nap. As she got close to her doorway she took off her heels, sighing in relief as she tiptoed toward her door, her dad chastising her for not waiting until she was inside. She stopped short at the sight of a small package left at her doorstep. Her dad put a hand out to keep her in place, slowly moving forward to inspect the package. After he deemed it safe, he picked it up and handed it to her. Lexi examined all the edges curiously, shaking it gently. She flipped the tag and her knees buckled slightly at the recognition of the handwriting and the message.

Congrats, gorgeous. Always said you were a nerd. xx

“Lexi?” he questioned, concern etched on his face as he reached out to steady her. “Are you okay?”

She stared at the tag for another long moment, mentally telling herself to get it together with a shaky breath before turning the tag over and forcing a smile.

“Yeah, Dad. I’m fine. Let’s go inside.”

#mona x mc #mona rod #mona ride or die #mona x mc fic #ride or die #choices mona #choices stories you play #playchoices #pixelberry #n*fw #lost on you #choices fanfic

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lilithrebellion · 4 years

Text

Lilith Rebellion Chapter 10 Preview

Happy New Year! Here’s your gratuitous make-out scene.

Yeah, anyway I couldn’t wait until the chapter was done so you’re getting the first part early. Also 2019 was the 100th anniversary of Yuri, so here’s to starting off the new era right, and to many more wlw works to come!

Relationship (F/F): Yui Komori/Amaya Yuuki (OC) Content: Asexual Relationship, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Cuddling and kissing, Everything is fluff and nothing hurts, all the consent, stupid flirty Amaya

Soon enough, the two were walking through the door of Amaya’s apartment.

“Ahh, it’s so good to be back!” she said, clearly in high spirits as she stepped up from the entryway.

“Are you sure it was really alright to leave without saying anything?” Yui asked as she followed after her.

She shrugged before heading into the bedroom to drop off her bag. “I left a note.”

Said note was just a piece of paper taped to Yui’s door that read “Went out. Be back Monday. XOXO. Amaya and Yui.”

Yui sighed. She could already tell that Amaya’s message was not going to be well received. “When they see that, I just know they’ll—”

“Okay, that’s enough of that!”

Yui's sentence was cut off when Amaya gently pressed a finger to her lips. “We came here so that we could take a break from all of that. So how about for the next couple of days, they just don’t exist?”

Yui blinked. “They don’t exist…?”

Amaya smiled. “Exactly. Besides, we don’t need their permission to do anything. So you don’t need to worry about what they think or if they’re gonna be mad. Because that doesn’t matter!”

As soon as she heard those words, Yui felt the remaining uncertainty being washed away. She nodded and placed her bag on the bedroom floor beside Amaya’s. “Yeah, you’re right. Then, is there anywhere you want me to put my things?”

“Wherever you want. There’s plenty of space.”

“Okay.” Yui then knelt down to unzip her bag and took out her nightgown. It was around the time when they usually went to sleep so she should probably get changed for bed. However, it occurred to her that Amaya was right next to her and she began wondering if it was alright to change in front of her.

Yui glanced over to see that Amaya had already taken off her jacket and was hanging it up in the closet. She glanced back at her for a second and then they both blushed before quickly looking away again.

Yui stood with her nightgown clutched to her chest, trying to think of the best course of action. Well they were both girls, so it should be fine for them to change in front of each other. Except that Amaya was attracted to women. But that shouldn’t matter, should it? And besides, they were dating so did that make it extra okay? Or maybe…

Before she could decide, she felt a hand on her wrist and she was pulled to the side. Yui yelped in surprise as she was thrown onto the bed. She barely had time to process what was happening as Amaya climbed on top of her, knees around her hips, palms on either side of her head. Yui felt her face heat up at the intimacy of their position. She hadn’t expected Amaya to do something so forward.

“Yui,” the tenderness with which Amaya said her name had Yui’s heart slamming against her chest as she stared up breathlessly at the earnest passion burning in her eyes.

“You said that I should be more honest about my feelings so…”

She took a shaky breath, her cheeks reddening as well.

“Yui, I love you. But just saying it isn’t enough. I want to show you exactly how I feel. I want to kiss you, to touch you, to hold you tight and never let go...” She briefly looked away, still clearly nervous. “I-Is that okay?”

Her voice was so soft and sweet, it made Yui feel like she might melt right then and there. She smiled and reached up to place her hand behind Amaya’s head.

“Of course it is.”

With that, Amaya leaned down for a kiss as Yui pulled her closer. Their lips pressed together, more insistent than ever before. Love filled every inch of her with a pleasant warmth as she enjoyed the feeling of Amaya’s hands running through her hair and her labored, airy breathing as their lips came together and parted over and over, alternating between deep and soft.

Yui let out a soft moan as she felt Amaya’s chest press against her. Although modest in size, the slight softness still had her mind spinning wild with desire. She draped her free hand across her back, wanting to bring them even closer together.

Gradually, Amaya began moving away from her lips to press kisses along her cheek and jaw, working her way down to her neck. Yui tilted her head to the side to give her more room, becoming completely undone at her girlfriend’s gentle touch.

Girlfriend…

The word made Yui’s heart flutter with joy.

That’s right, she was her girlfriend now. The happiness that followed upon that realization was nearly overwhelming.

A small gasp escaped her lips at the feeling of Amaya's fangs brushing against her skin. It didn’t seem intentional and Yui knew that she would never bite her, but it was still enough to give her a not unwelcome sense of thrill, like an arc of electricity through her veins. She tightened her grip around Amaya’s shoulders, as if doing so might keep her grounded amidst her bubbling emotions.

“Does that feel good?” Amaya whispered, her breath tickling her skin.

“Mm…” Yui nodded lazily, too caught up in her own ecstasy to say anything else.

“Okay, then let’s try something else.”

Hearing the bed creak as Amaya pushed herself off of her, Yui opened her eyes curiously to see her settling into a kneeling position before her legs. What was she planning?

Amaya met her eyes, smiling with a hint of mischief as she reached forward to lift up her leg. And then leaned down to plant a kiss on her inner thigh near her knee.

“Ah!” Yui cried out, taken completely by surprise at the boldness of Amaya’s actions. For someone who usually got flustered so easily, it all seemed to be coming out of nowhere. Although, she didn’t hate it.

Amaya smirked, clearly amused by her reactions, and again placed her lips against the increasingly sensitive area.

“Nn…” Yui trembled, her heart hammering in her chest as she reached up to grasp at the pillows with what little strength she had left. But it didn’t do much to make the waves of pleasure from each delicate little kiss any more bearable.

Glancing back down, Yui suddenly felt a jolt of apprehension when she noticed that Amaya’s kisses were slowly nearing…a certain area. Yui tensed, the suggestiveness of it making her stomach do flip flops. She wasn’t exactly sure how two girls were supposed to, well…go all the way, and although she loved it when Amaya kissed her, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to do that with her.

Despite how her breath was coming out in hot, heavy pants, Yui tried her best to form a coherent sentence. “I thought you said…you weren’t interested in…that kind of thing…”

Amaya paused to look at her questioningly. She then glanced down and her eyes widened in realization before looking back up to meet her eyes in reassurance. “I won’t go that far but…” She delicately placed her fingers on the back of her thigh. Yui shivered at the coolness against her burning skin. “There’s plenty of other ways to pleasure you, right?” Amaya said far too seductively as she gently traced her fingers up to the back of her knee.

Yui let out a gasp and couldn't help but squirm at the sensation of that impossibly light touch. She bit her lip and averted her eyes, her resolve crumbling before her girlfriend’s newfound flirtatious side.

Amaya’s expression returned to one of hesitation as it occurred to her that maybe Yui wasn’t as receptive as she had originally thought. She started to set down her leg. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t—”

“…Don’t stop.”

“What…?”

Yui’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t keep the words from spilling out. “…It feels really good so don’t stop.”

Amaya smiled. “Alright then.” With that, she leaned in again and continued to trail feather-light kisses along her legs.

“Ah-hnn...” Clamping a hand over her mouth, Yui tried to prevent herself from making any more strange noises, but a few whimpers still managed to escape.

Amaya giggled softly against her thigh, which did not help the situation whatsoever. “You can be as loud as you want, you know? It’s not like anyone else will hear you.”

Yui was sure her face was about twenty different shades of red. “... It’s still embarrassing.”

Amaya hummed and made her way back up until she was leaning over her again. “Well I think you sound adorable.”

Yui didn’t get a chance to reply before Amaya sealed their lips again, turning her indignant squeak into a heavy moan with another deep kiss that left her breathless all over again.

By the time Amaya pulled away, Yui had been reduced to little more than a blushing, gasping mess beneath her. She smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and smiled in satisfaction, a devious glint in her eyes and one fang peeking out of her mouth in a devilish yet frustratingly cute manner.

Slightly annoyed that she was just letting Amaya have her way with her, Yui shot a glare up at her. Although it probably came out looking like a pout at best, Amaya’s expression turned startled all the same.

Not wasting a moment, Yui reached up and pushed as hard as she could. Amaya yelped as she was now the one being flipped onto her back. Before she could recover, Yui pinned her by her shoulders and dove down to deliver a kiss of her own.

“Mn!?”

The angle was a bit off since she had moved in so fast, but it still did the job. When Yui lifted her head, she was treated to the sight of Amaya rendered speechless as she lay below her, wearing that lovely flustered expression that had captured her heart.

Yui took a deep breath and despite her own embarrassment, spoke to her in a serious voice. “I-I don’t want to just be receiving your love. I want to show you how much I love you too!”

Amaya’s eyes went wide in awe. But soon enough, her smile shifted to become playful again. “Hm? So you want to try taking the lead?”

She tilted her head slightly, making Yui's heart tighten at how painfully alluring she looked with her dark hair spread out against the pillows. “Then, how about you kiss me again?”

Drawing in a shaky breath, Yui leaned down and did just that.

She kept it soft and sweet, wanting to convey to Amaya just how earnest her feelings were. Just in case she still had any further doubts. Yui was determined to dispel them right now and spell out in no uncertain terms that she was absolutely worthy of her love, and that she wouldn’t rather have anyone else by her side.

It seemed to work, as she sensed a tiny shudder run through Amaya’s body and heard her let out a contented sigh.

Seconds later, Amaya was wrapping her arms around her waist as she slid her hands up her back and sides beneath her shirt, earning another unsuppressed moan from Yui’s lips at how the coolness of her touch was amplified against her feverish skin.

Not to be outdone, Yui cupped Amaya’s face in her palms and gently caressed her cheeks and neck. Amaya squeezed her tightly in return, and Yui felt her purr happily against her continued kiss.

She was sure Amaya could feel how heated she was, and although she knew she couldn’t warm up the same way, it didn't stop Yui from trying her best to do so anyway.

“You know…ahh…if you're hot you can just…nn…take it off…”

Yui pulled back with a start, the suggestion nearly making her heart stop.

Amaya reddened in embarrassment under her gaze, her voice turning into a stutter. “Y-you don’t have to…uh…I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I said that…”

Smiling at her nervousness, Yui pushed herself up onto her knees and although her hands were shaking, began to lift up her shirt. Amaya had sat up as well and watched with fascination as Yui pulled off her sweater, and then her shorts, discarding both over the side of the bed and leaving her in a slightly frilly pale blue bra and matching panties.

She felt self-conscious at first, but that quickly disappeared once she saw how Amaya was looking at her. Her eyes shining and filled with awe, as if she were in the presence of an angel from heaven.

Feeling it was unfair that she was the only one in such an exposed state, Yui smiled and reached forward to grip the hem of Amaya’s shirt.

Her eyes widened for a second before nodding for her to continue. Before her nerves could get the better of her, Yui pulled her shirt off over her head and unzipped her shorts, revealing simple black undergarments. She left her stockings on though, liking the way they accentuated the shape of her thighs.

Yui drew in a sharp breath as she fully took in the sight before her, eyes sweeping over her subtle curves, lingering a bit longer at the swell of her breasts. Her smooth skin almost seemed to glow in the moonlight, giving her an ethereal kind of beauty.

Amaya shifted shyly under her gaze and shrunk into her shoulders a little, although this simply succeeded in making her boobs squish together in an even more enticing manner.

“Don’t stare at me so much…it’s embarrassing…”

Heart melting again at the softness in her voice, Yui moved forward to gather her up in a warm embrace. “Sorry, I was just thinking how lucky I am to have met you.”

“Really?” Amaya said, hugging her back and burying her face into the crook of her shoulder. Her whispers were gentle beside her ear. “Because how I see it, I think I’m definitely the lucky one.”

Yui slowly loosened her grip to meet her eyes and the two shared a tender look before coming together in another passionate kiss as they fell back against the sheets.

It would be an unforgettable night for the both of them as they eventually drifted off to sleep, hands clasped together and still tangled up in each other’s arms.

=====

End Notes:

Number of times author’s soul left her body while writing this: too many to count.

Also I’ll just go yeet myself into the ocean now because what the Hell am I saying!?!??!

This isn’t even the whole chapter how will I survive....

#Diabolik Lovers #yui komori #amaya yuuki #myfic

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lubdubsworld · 7 years

Text

Tumblr prompt ( Yoongi * OC)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 part 4 Part 5

[ i know that you guys probably wanted a nice confrontation of Yoongi finding out about his mistake and stuff, but I think it’s an overdone scene, probably something you’re read a lot of times. So , i decided to focus more on the two of them and how they move on. i’m sorry if it’s disappointing in any way. ]

Part 6

“ How is he, these days?” i said awkwardly, watching Namjoon add some sugar to his coffee. He was still dressed in his Hospital scrubs but clearly the cafe served better coffee than what he could get in the hospital so he looked happy enough.

“Y/N, why can you not be a normal bitter ex, spewing curses at the idiot? it should make things easier for everyone.”

“You and i both know Yoongi doesn’t deserve that. You’re his oldest , most trusted friend. Are you honestly telling me yoongi left me because he wanted to? i know him .... i know how he gets, alright? i know that he has a way of blaming himself for everything that goes wrong in the entire universe. All i wasnt is for a chance to get him back.” I said softly.

Namjoon sighed.

“i should never have told him about Jiyeon.” He said drily. “ if i hadn’t, he would have returned to you. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you anymore.”

I hummed.

“Fine. what else can you tell me about him,right now?”

“there’s nothing much to say. his mother wanted him to marry jiyeon. He refused. She threatened to fire him. He decided he would fire her instead. And now we’re here.”

“I don’t think-”

“He’ll pull through. Don’t worry about him. “

“i know he’ll pull through. He always does. but that’s not what I want to know... Is he happy without me, Namjoon? If you tell me that he’s happy without me, i’ll drop this right now. i’ll stop contacting him, like everyone wants me to.”

“You’re dating Seokjin....”

I flinched.

“it’s not... It isn’t anything even remotely serious. And that’s something I’ll deal with in my own time and...”

“Hyung think’s Seokjin is better for you than him. He thinks you really love Seokljin.”

the urge to kick Min Yoongi was growing by the minute.

“He was the one who divorced me...” i hissed angrily.

“i think he regretted it almost immediately.”

“So why one earth didn’t he come back to me, immediately?”

“You know how he gets...” Namjoon shrugged.

ugh. Yes. I knew how he got. Yoongi wasn’t a fighter. At least not for himself. He would fight death , his own body and everyone in the world to save a life, to do the right thing. But he would never fight for things he wanted for himself.

in this case, me.

“I love him. i know all of you think he doesn’t deserve it but i love him. i don’t think i can stop loving him. i already tried. I thought i’d succeeded even. but when i saw him last week... i just... I love Min Yoongi and nothing he does is going to change that.” i said miserably.

Namjoon gave me a sympathetic smile.

“He’s going to fight you every step of the way.” He said softly.

I nodded.

“Not just him. My sister may kill me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tell me you’re joking.” My sister said calmly, watching as i carefully curled my lashes, the mascara dewy and perfect .

“i’m an adult. I can make my own decision here.” i said with a shrug.

“clearly not, if said decision involves going back to the man who fucking abandoned you when you needed him the most...”

“No. He didn’t abandon me. He made sure i got moved to my home town, to my mother and my sister who he knew would be able to take care of me.”

i hadn’t told my mother and sister about jiyeon or about what she’d done. it had been hard enough to come to terms with it on my own. They still thought Yoongi had left because he was a bastard.

only i knew that Yoongi left because he thought that was what i’d want. or so i hoped. A part of me still balked at the idea of him actually not wanting me. But i wouldn’t think about that.

i probably would have let it go if he hadn’t sent me those damn messages, i thought bleakly.

They were yoongi’s version of a cry for help. I could hardly, in good conscience , ignore him.

“ you’re insane.” My sister said, sounding defeated and I smiled.

“And you’re the best sister i could have evr had, unnie. but this time, i need to do this for myself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“i’m going to kill someone.” i said through gritted teeth and Seokjin sighed.

“Please don’t. “

“they’re maligning him! They’re belittling everything he’s done.. they can’t just...”

“they’re reporters. Journalists. And they’re doing their job. Yoongi’s decision to pull out from his parents’ partnership is going to affect a lot of people.”

“But can’t they be civil about it...?!” i said miserably, staring up at the huge raised podium where Yoongi sat behind a table calmly addressing increasingly ridiculous question, each one shaped to sound like a backhanded insult.

“Dr. Min, do you think innocent children should bear the brunt of your own personal tantrums with your parents?” one of the women said and i clenched my fists.

“I’m sorry. The whole point of this conference is to make sure that doesn’t happen. i’m hoping that generous contributors will come forward to support the Hospital and it’s cause, so that children will not be affected by this.” Yoongi said softly, voice low and even . He was dressed in a white button down and a black jacket. Blue jeans , faded and worn and playful black sneakers made him look so much younger than his thirty years. i wanted to hug him so badly that i had to physically grip the chair and stop myself from launching myself at him.

How he hated being in the spotlight. He hated socializing. Hated being interviewed. and yet here was , doing all of that. getting his very credibility torn down because of his vile, disgusting mother.

“Is it true your wife divorced you because you couldn’t save your own child?”

i froze in place.

So did Yoongi. i saw the blood drain out of his face , leaving his pale as a parchment and I felt my own heart throb with disbelief and sheer unadulterated agony at how callously the woman said those words.

“i... I’m not perfect, of course. i have lost patients before and yes, the loss of my own child was... difficult. i do take full responsibility for it. I hope she’ll forgive me for it and....”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” I shouted, amazed that he wasn’t just shooting that woman down instead of actually apologizing....

“What..? Y/N?”

i couldn’t stop myself as I pushed my way past the other reporters, reaching the woman who had just opened her mouth ans said those words to him.

“How many dying kids have you saved, Ms.. “ i glanced at her name tag .” Lee?”

She blinked, looking shocked.

“How many families have you offered free healthcare too. Hell, how many dollars of your money have you spent on charities that support kids? and yet,. here you stand accusing my husband of being a murderer, when in fact, you and your kind , spreading such filthy lies about this good man are indirectly contributing to the death of hundreds and thousands of children, right this minute! “ I snarled.

She just stared at me, gaping and i felt a hand on my wrist yanking me hard and i turned around to see Yoongi.

“what the fuck are you doing here, Y/n?” He hissed and i glared at him.

“standing up for you! the way you should be !!! you don’t have to grovel in front of these idiots!! Yoongi, you’re a world class surgeon who has saved countless lives and these filthy mongrels are nothing but vermin at the bottle of a barrel. Tell me Miss Lee, how much did my mother in law pay you to spew such vile things about my husband?”

“okay! that’s enough.. We’re leaving..” yoongi yanked on my arm and i glared at him but he wouldn’t let go.

“Come with me, you stupid woman. NOW!!”

I let myself get dragged out of the place , aware of the flashing cameras and the furiously scribbling pens.

i’d probably made everything worse but I wouldn’t regret it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re taking sleeping pills again? Why?” i said curiously, staring at the inside of his bedroom cabinet, while Yoongi stood awkwardly to the side. He was dressed in the white shirt and jeans having tossed his jacket , hair left in messy disarray, the gray tinged strands falling into his eyes and his skin pale underneath the garish white light.

“Y/N...”

“whatever that woman said was nonsense, okay? it shouldn’t even be a question at this point but i’m telling you anyway. You’re not the one who’s to be blamed. i just...”

“Why are you here, Y/N?” He said tiredly, watching as i grabbed the last bottle of pills and peered at the label.

“I already spoke to my agents. I’ve turned my exhibit into an auction. All the proceeds will go to your hospital. i don’t know if it will be a lot.. but i think it could really help. “ i said hastily.

yoongi stared at me.

“What are you trying to do?” He said softly.

“Just making sure i don’t misread a label and take the wrong pill. Like i did before.” i said softly.

He went very still next to me and i sighed.

“Yoongi about what happened... jiyeon told me all about it. I don’t blame you for doing what you did...” i said softly and Yoongi shook his head. moving a bit away.

“it was all my fault... i ... i let her do that to you..” He said , voice cracking.

Jiyeon had been cruel, malicious but she had also had a conscience. But she had helped me understand that yoongi hadn’t left me because of the abortion. A part of me had wanted to take the first flight out to the UK just to explain what had happened to my oblivious, impulsive ex husband but i had held back, opting to tell Namjoon about it. i’d asked him to be discreet about it.

and Namjoon had told Yoongi about it.

And then I’d waited for a year, waiting for yoongi to come to his senses and to come back.

Except he never did.

“i’m going to get her medical license cancelled. I.. I know i should have guessed it earlier , i just never imagined she would.. do something so vile and disgusting. I wanted to kill her... i still do.. She doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as us.. She... ”

i moved to touch him but he looked stricken and i stopped, clenching my fingers in embarrassment.

“Yoongi stop. it’s over. it was a long time ago. she apologized to me.” I said, recalling the absolute nightmare of a confession that I’d been treated to, right after I’d signed the divorce papers.

“Apologized?!!” Yoongi shouted and i flinched. “ how could a fucking apology ever make up for what she did to us... She destroyed us.. She..”

“She did no such thing. If we really were good for each other we would have come out stronger , not fizzled and died!” i snapped , impatiently. He hesitated, looking torn and so guilty that i bit my lips.

“Yoongi, i know that we both screwed up. i wasn’t innocent either. i never saw that child as a .... child. i thought it would be a way to keep you with me... like a handcuff or soemthing. I was guilty of that... i didn’t even get that tests till i was nearly three months pregnant.... I was reckless... I...”

“You just trusted her! She was the one who should have had a bloody heart.. She killed our baby....!” He said brokenly and I felt my throat go dry.

i opened my mouth to protest, but he wasn’t done.

“but more importantly, she nearly killed you..!! “ He took a deep breath. “ i never hated myself more, than when i saw you lying there on my operation table, fighting for your life because of how neglectful I’d been.”

“i’m fine. I’m here.” I said stupidly.

“it wasn’t even about the baby, Y/N... We could have had another one. You almost died! what if i lost you on that table?! I would have followed you right away...”

“Stop! oh my God.. Don’t even joke about something like that...!”

“You think I’m joking? You think i wouldn’t have done it? You think i wouldn;t have died for you? You don’t think i still would?! You’re.. You’re the most... fuck.. Yo’re the only one who matters... it’s always been you...”

I stared at him.

“Don’t stay stuff like that, if you don’t mean it.” i said softly.

“I... i mean it. Of course I do... I can’t even apologize because i don’t deserve your forgiveness.... “

I was so sick of that phrase.

“Are you going to apologize, anyway?” I said stiltedly.

“i don’t think i could ever dare to apologize. Not after what i did... I should have been there .. I should have helped you and...”

“Well, how can i forgive you if you can’t even apologize?” I said casually.

Yoongi stopped short.

“What?”

“i forgive you. I do... You’re here and i just want to be with y-”

“No. Stop. Don’t! don’t finish that sentence! You don’t know what you’re asking for!. ” He said desperately and I reached out for him but he stepped back hastily.

“Yoongi...”

“you should leave...”

And there he was, pushing me away, all over again. Why was it so damn hard to love this man.!! What kind of sins had my past self committed to be stuck with this man?!

“i’m not leaving. Why should i... You just said that you care about me... You fucked up, yes. You hurt me. you can spend the rest of your life making it up to me but make no mistake, you are spending the rest of your life with me. i refuse to settle for anything else, after all the crap you put me through,. “

Yoongi continued to stare at me.

“i’ll hurt you.” He whispered.

i felt relief flood through me. He was caving. I knew it.

“i know.” I said softly, stepping closer and lightly grabbing his hand, taking it up to my waist. His arms curled around my body and i felt my bones turn to ash in sheer want.

“I’m not... I’m such a shitty husband... I’ll probably hurt you in so many ways and...”

“just kiss me.”

“Y/N.. i don’t deserve you.” He said softly.

“No. but you have me. And i’m not leaving. ”

i moved forward, capturing his lips with mine.

Author’s note : there will be one more part , just to tie things up nicely. Do you guys want some smut?. kekeke...

#yoongi smut #yoongi fics #yoongi fanfics

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kheichou-blog · 7 years

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I feel super crummy and so I either draw cute things or THINGS THAT CRUSH MY SOUL so here’s trashy Ashey and Iggy after the events in Altissia. Oh, I also tried to write a thing. I’ll include it below but please don’t read it ever because all I do is RP now and it’s oc x Iggy fluff and I’m a shameful fangirl lolololol

It had only been days since the awakening of Leviathan, things in Altissia were understandably far from calm and lively. Every person Ashewynn passed along the elegantly cobbled streets looked drained and void of direction as they simply did what they were told to help with the efforts. It made her feel that perhaps her visit here was overly selfish. Her hands tightly clutched her phone, not wanting to miss the slightest hint of the vibration of an incoming call from her blond friend. Her heart stopped as she laid eyes on the lavish hotel, the Leville, still in decent shape compared to some of the other buildings and parts of the city. She hastened her stride, to a brisk jog even, closing the distance between her and the establishment. She could spot a familiar tall, bulky figure with a mane of black hair, more wild and untamed than usual standing at the entrance.

Any other day, she wouldn't be the most relieved to see him, but today it was a bit of a different story.

“Gla-Gladio!” Her voice caught for a moment as she tried to shout his name, overcome with a sense of relief and raw nerves. She doubled over and huffed heavily, not from the jaunt over, but the overwhelming emotions of what she was about to walk into.

Gladio's face appeared especially grim and gloomy. The 23 year old seemed to have gained a decade of age in his haggard face. Though normally he may give her a pat on the back in greeting or casual fist bump, he offered no such gesture this time. He peeled himself from the open door frame of the Leville and sighed.

“So you made it,” His voice sounded distant and cold, his arms crossed over his chest, “they're inside.”

“Prompto?” Ashe inquired forcefully before Gladio could turn into the building.

“He's fine, he's just upstairs in the hall waiting for Noct to come to.” The hulking man explained. Ashe nodded.

“And… Ig...”

The tattooed giant didn't let her finish, “just go talk to Prompto. Or better yet, go talk to the guy yourself.”

The fact that the Prince still hadn't come to was a bit worrisome, though from what she gathered from Prompto's only call to her, he was at least alive. Furthermore, the fact that she could apparently talk to Ignis was a good sign, last she'd heard he wasn't awake yet either, and looked to be in pretty bad shape. She almost tripped up the stairs trying to make her increasingly tremorous legs to work with her. As Gladio had said, the petite blond was hunched against the burgundy walls of the hotel, looking not quite at, more like past the wall, his hands loosely dangling over his knees. Ashe could feel tears welling up in her eyes, but fought them back.

She wobbled her way towards him.

“Prompto...” she repeated the name, much less forcefully than she had with Gladio. His face slowly turned towards her, his striking blue eyes tracking up towards hers. A weak smile barely shone on his face, it appeared to take all of his energy.

“Oh… hey Ashes.” He stated flatly, unmoving from his seated position. Ashewynn knelt beside the freckled figure and offered him a hug. Despite his drained state, his hug was as warm and welcoming as ever. They stayed like so for many moments, like a brother and sister huddled together for comfort.

“The Prince is taking his time I heard.” She spoke, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah… yeah he is. I'm going to give him a hard time for sleeping in on us.”

It was good to see Prompto's sense of humor was still in tact.

“Maybe now he'll start heeding Iggy's warnings regarding his diet.” She added. She was surprised when the response was her friend laying one of his oddly clammy hands on her calloused hand.

“Specs is in pretty rough shape still,” his voice was especially hushed now, “it's… it's really good that he'll get the chance to s… that you're here for him...”

Ashewynn swallowed hard, something about the way he interrupted himself and changed what he was saying.

“Prom… how bad is it?” She asked, her voice wavering.

“There's… some pretty nasty burns. Be careful if you touch him.”

Ashewynn released a sigh.

“But… it's more than that,” he continued, the words clearly paining him as he struggled to speak them, “he… he can't see right now.”

The words almost didn't even register with Ashe, it was so unreal.

“He might not ever be able to see again actually. The doctors can't say for sure.”

She tightly pressed her lips together.

“I see...” was all she could respond with. Prompto gave her another weak hug.

“I'm sorry Ashe. Maybe if we were a little faster, a little more careful...”

She tapped her forehead against his and shook her head.

“Worrying over what ifs at this time isn't worth it my friend. What we worry about now is what's before us,” She forced a smile as she spoke, “just be glad that everyone came out with their lives. Be glad you came out able bodied enough to help.”

The blonde sighed.

“Yeah, you're right.” He responded, ending with another sigh, “his room is right down there. You should go soon, door should be unlocked.”

He pointed to the final door on the left down the hall.

“You got it. Don't beat yourself up okay?” She tried to comfort him.

“Too late, but I'll try to be a bit less hard on myself.” He responded, his gaze returning to the wall. Though she was still shaky, she didn't hesitate at all to go to the door and knock. There was no response, nor any sign of shuffling from within' the room. She wondered for a moment if maybe he was resting at the moment. She swallowed hard and quietly opened the door to peek in, just a crack. The first thing to hit her was the smell of medical ointments, followed by how dimly lit the room was at this time. She could hardly make out the figure of the brunette on his bed, not laying down, but sitting on the side of it. She opened the door a bit more, easing her way in, closing the door behind her.

“Care to announce yourself?” Ignis' drawl came out more sharply than she was used to, catching her slightly off guard. It was perhaps a little rude to just slip in on him unannounced however.

“I'm sorry,” she quickly apologized, stepping away from the door. The man's demeanor immediately changed, straightening himself out in what she gathered was surprise.

“Ashe?” He hissed in disbelief. The pale, freckled woman made her way to his bed side and knelt in front of him, carefully taking his hands on hers. She checked them over intently for signs of burns and injury, so as not to touch his open wounds on accident. That would be a rather unpleasant experience for both parties.

“Yes Egg, it's me.” She responded quietly, looking into his face with concern, not that he could tell.

“Dear heart, it's good to hear your voice,” he sighed in relief, “I apologize for sounding rather cross.”

She shook her head, realizing again, he couldn't really tell.

“It's fine, I should have just spoken when I was at the door.”

She gently rested a head against his thigh, provoking a small gasp and jolt from his leg.

“Oh I'm sorry, is that one injured?” She asked, feeling immediately guilty.

“N-no, no. It just… caught me off guard.”

She rested her head again, feeling the muscles still tense for a brief moment, but gradually release.

“I suppose you've heard.” He spoke flat and matter-of-factly, something she was fairly used to from the oft overly-focused man.

“Yeah,” she responded plainly, “Prompto filled me in.”

“Good,” he breathed out, “good.”

“I assume the dim lighting has to do with your vision,” she added.

“Indeed. I will be required to wear darkened lenses for some time, and otherwise try to keep to low lit rooms,” he explained.

“And...” Ashe started, hesitating for a moment, “how badly are you injured otherwise?”

“It's mostly my face,” he answered, “though there are some significant burns to other portions of my body, and plenty of minor cuts and wounds.”

“Your face...” she whispered, looking up to try to assess said damage. She noticed he seemed to be keeping part of his face turned away from her. She stood and seated herself next to him on the bed, placing a hand on the cheek that actually faced her, careful to avoid a couple of the nicks in his skin. He affectionately nestled his cheek in her hand, though he also covered what she assumed was the more heavily affected side of his face with his.

“Let me see,” she requested, her voice full of concern and comfort, “I can assure you, I've seen just as bad in my travels.”

He didn't look to want to oblige her request, but he also didn't seem to fight her as she reached up and removed the weak block, other than the way he slightly furrowed his brows for a moment before releasing a small hiss from his lips in discomfort. The wounds weren't difficult to spot, a large portion of the left side of his face had been pretty severely burned, the skin curling and peeling slightly still around the area. A large gash crossed his nose, but it was nothing compared to that burn. Imagining how much it must of hurt, and that the last thing he probably saw was whatever it was that made the mark brought the tears back. She bit her lower lip hard, but this time she couldn't stop one or two from rolling down her cheeks.

“I'm so glad you're alive,” she whispered to him, lowering her head to his shoulder, dabbing the tears off on his leopard print shirt, relishing the feeling of him throwing his arms around her.

#oc x canon #oc x ignis #Ashewynn #ashewynn x ignis #final fantasy xv fanart #final fantasy xv fanfiction #my writing is trash #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh #hhhhhhhhhh #emotional #injury #blind ignis #blind iggy #altissia #why do I do this to myself

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