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potatomountain · 1 year

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TLaM Chapter 5

mutant reader x human ateez

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: there will be potential triggers for anxiety and mental illnesses all throughout this story. Not all characters are nice at first.

AN: Here we get another one introduced :D woot! Also not all chapters are going to be long, a reminder a lot of the times i don't edit my works and that this is a slow burn, its going to take awhile for mc to meet and trust each of the eight but she’ll get there!

This is a work of fiction, in particular Fan fiction, and in no way is this a representation or an accurate depiction of ATEEZ or any other idols/people used for this work.

Any feedback is always appreciated and adored! Comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist <3

Masterlist

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While I knew I would go back to the tavern, doing so was a much harder task than I thought. My next weekly exam was upon me before I even got the courage to tell anyone I had gone to the tavern; but really who could I tell?

Considering how eager I was to rush out of the apartment to head to my Father's lab… I really needed an outlet. The friendly vibe of the tavern with the immediate acceptance by both of the humans and the small Typhon child was astonishing to me already. I couldn't help but to think what their motive was. Why were they friendly to me? What had I done to deserve it?

At least San's slightly less cold shoulder made sense, I had made an effort for that and now he didn't seem so hell bent on avoiding me. Sure he wouldn't say anything, but since my plea he had ventured into the living room when I was in there or didn't scurry off when I stepped in. On the one occasion I had asked him what he had been watching, purely curious, he had actually answered me. As well as awkwardly invite me to watch it with him. I knew neither of us were comfortable enough with each other just yet, so I had declined, but the thought had warmed my chest even if he hadn't wanted my presence there.

Good things were earned, not given, especially to a Typhon. That was a decree I had drilled into my mind since I was young. Even still, there was a bitterness beneath my reasons, a question I found myself asking too often: why did my differences make me unworthy?

There was a bit of comfort knowing I was not the only one like this, but like a double sided coin there was rage as to why we needed to prove ourselves so much.

I always found myself thinking these things on the train, the clear separation tugging at something deep within me I was scared to acknowledge… there would be no turning back if I did. That didn't make it go away however, the recent rise in my anxiety pushing those emotions closer and closer to the surface.

Scared, I hoped Doctor Park would be the one examining me once more. My father expected results, and he wouldn't be too pleased with the lack of them. If I expressed the darkness blooming in my chest he would be even more upset. It was Doctor Park I could often confide in, and he would always rephrase it to my father in a way I could avoid repercussions.

Yet it was neither Doctor Park or my father who greeted me at the entrance to the lab. A short, stubby man but with a gentle smile greeted me instead: Doctor Choi Taemoo.

I bowed, and headed inside with him. Doctor Choi had been with my father for about 10 years or so, having gone into Typhon research because of my father, a man he respected. Because of that, he would often expect results like my father, lacking compassion. "Doctor Choi, are you holding the examination today?"

"Yes I am, your father is on a business trip with Jisoo." He smiled in my direction, tone neither friendly or harsh, just entirely business. "I heard he finally told you about his intentions?"

I nodded, a bit taken aback as I was ushered into the usual room. "Yes… are you related to Miss Jisoo by chance?" They did have the same surname; but I could be wrong.

"We had been related through marriage. Her first husband was my cousin." He turned his back to me while overlooking charts, giving me the most privacy they usually do as I stripped into the hospital gown I always wore. "Once he passed, we stayed close with JiSoo and San; I hear he is living with you now?"

"Yes."

"That must be unpleasant, San has a phobia of Typhon's."

"A phobia? Is there a reason?" Gown on, I turned to face the Doctor just as he turned.

He shrugged, motioning for me to climb onto the table. "Yes but I believe you should learn about that from him, as per your father's request I am not to tell you anything."

Perhaps it was my already high strung nerves but I hissed in annoyance. "Of course Doctor Kim requested that."

He lifted a brow and jotted down a few things on his clipboard. "You are unusually on edge… does it have to do with your living situation? Or about your adventure four days ago."

My stomach dropped as he eyed me critically, brow pulled into a frown. Ah, of course Seonghwa had told his father about my visit… was I perhaps involved in another social experiment for my father without realizing it? Was that what the tavern experience was? Another attempt to bridge the gap between myself and humans?

"Don't get it confused, your father was not happy about the idea but… he is leaving your social progress to Doctor Park and I for now so he didn't veto it either. That said, Doctor Park insists not to meddle with your time at that shelter, just that we get updates of when you visit, and if anything… worth mentioning happens. We are aware your nervous system is twice that of a mere human's, resulting in your spine mutation, so we need to know how you react to new environments and new things outside of the lab."

He seemed oblivious to my inner struggle, checking a few things off as he began his examination and checked some things off on his board. "Doctor Park said you had left the tavern in a hurry, and we refrained from reaching out to you so as not to overwhelm you further but it seems we should have." He paused when he peeled my gown back to look at my back, his tone lowered as he continued. "You're having a hard time keeping a full mask, Ty, I need to know what sort of things you are feeling to fry your nerves like this."

I hissed just thinking about home and San, feeling my spine move on agitation at the thoughts. "Overwhelmed. A lot of new things. My safe space isn't safe any more, Doctor Choi, I feel as if I have to be careful even in my sleep so as not to scare him. But then…" I thought of the tavern, my shoulders relaxing- I couldn't dislike the tavern. "The tavern was just new. They were friendly, and it was really good tea and tailored to a Typhon's tastes and needs. The subway is still separated, so I didn't expect a business to be so accommodating to Typhon's over humans."

He nodded, his fingers following the movement of my spine. "Did you like the tavern?"

I nodded without hesitation, pulling at the hem of the gown anxiously. "It was cozy… but I can't consider it a safe space just yet."

For a moment we were both quiet, only the sound of pen on paper filled the silence as he jotted down notes. "So are you struggling with socializing then? Feeling uncomfortable in another humans presence?"

I nodded. "Learning to trust another person is nerve-wracking, Doctor Choi, I don't know what to talk about or how to make them comfortable with me or be comfortable around them. How do you connect with someone else like that?"

Choi was silent, mulling over my words for some time. "I have an idea; how do you feel about texting or chatting with someone over the internet and working your way up to meeting them? Of course, being upfront about what you are to start, I think it will allow you to build some trust with another person, or well learn what that means to you at a comfortable pace. For example, you can try this method with San. Or a group chat with a few people?"

I frowned, then shrugged. "I've thought of it but I don't know where to start. I don't know anything about social media, or how to socialize online… where would I even look for someone to chat with? Dating apps?" A shiver ran down my back at the thought.

He chuckled, placing a hand on my knee in a comforting manner. "Then we should have you learn right? My son is a little younger than you, and he's San's cousin so… I'm going to give you his number and you can message him when you leave. I'll inform him of this exercise, probably pay him, but he will be nothing but genuine with you. I promise Ty."

Huffing, as much as it bugged me to have someone paid to talk to me, I knew I didn't have another option. "I suppose it is worth a shot."

"Splendid!" He set the clipboard aside and stepped back. "Shift and go work off your nerves in the observation room, then we'll feed you and check your weight and vitals once more." He headed for the room in question, leaving me to shift- I was already halfway there, our talk fresh on my mind.

Why was socializing hard? Was it like this for humans too?

Or was I just wrong?

. . .

Despite his instructions, I only stared at the new contact in my phone, having rewritten messages over and over but not a single one I sent.

Now it felt far too late and I could only stare at what I had written while in my bundle of blankets on my makeshift nest of a bed. Was it too much? A whole paragraph introducing myself and saying hello.

"Maybe I can save some face-" Quickly I added a second text, apologizing for my awkwardness. I hit send, anxiety twisting in my chest even more as I stared at the chat as if that would summon a reply.

After a minute of staring at the screen I tossed the phone aside with a hefty sigh. "This won't do…" I pulled myself out of the blankets and began shuffling around the room for some clean clothes and a towel-

Only to dive for my phone the moment I heard the text notification.

> I see I have my work cut out for me. You really didn't need to apologize. How many times did you type out your message? <

I paled, staring at the words and rereading them as if I'd find something I'm missing. "This is Jongho?" He was rather blunt but I don't think I dislike it.

Unsure of what to reply, I began to type out message after message once more, just to be interrupted by another text of his.

> you're doing it again. Just send the first one you type, it's the truest to your thoughts. <

I frowned, slowly sitting up and staring at the message. My thoughts? It feels no different than talking to his father.

> I'm sorry… I lost track of how many messages I typed out. I'll try and work on it. <

> good. I'm Jongho, I'll do my best to help you where I can. <

> pleasure to meet you Jongho- how do you plan to help me though? <

Like instructed I sent the first one I typed out, but stared at the chat still anxious it wasn't good enough or I said something wrong. Every message felt like that. Was I doing this right? Asking the right questions? Giving the right answers?

> honestly I'm not sure. Dad just said you need a friend to help you with socializing. Typhon's don't have any friends? <

> No, at least not that I know of. We don't get to go to public school until we can mask and even then we are avoided or still raised as homeschooled. I really only have my father as he was my teacher, now my doctor and my boss- I think he would be my boss? <

> you think? <

> He pays me for the continuous participation in his research as his longest standing subject. If he asks me to do an experiment, I do it, and get proper compensation. <

This was territory I could handle as it was just describing my life, as boring as it is, but Jongho was replying quickly and asking questions in a way that just seemed curious. I couldn't see any malice or ill content in his replies, but if there was I was oblivious to it. Perhaps that was a good thing?

> I think I'm going to regret asking this but… Do you have any conversations with him or others outside of this work? <

Regret? My stomach twisted uncomfortably, back straightening as my nerves tingle. Was he regretting talking to me? > I'm sorry if you are regretting this, Jongho, but to answer your question no, I really haven't. People have spoken to me before, but they are usually not kind words. I can give you the details of the few times I have had proper conversation outside of the lab that wasn't unpleasant? They were mostly recent so I can recall them quite well. <

> no no, that's alright we don't have to talk in detail about that just yet. By the way, you are doing alright so far. Answering what I asked to the best of your abilities yeah? But you don't need to be so honest and open right off the bat. < A second text was sent right after. > I don't regret talking to you if that is what you mean, but I do feel a bit bad for taking money for this. I can't imagine how alone you felt. <

How alone I felt? Did I feel alone? I set my phone aside and stared at the wall across from me, covered in all sorts of pictures and posters and stickers of just random animals and things I had found cute. I couldn't recall having a picture with anyone before, or anyone but my father seeing my room or even stepping into the apartment; at least until San moved in. But that wasn't his choice.

Had I really been okay with the solitude and the isolation? The barriers put up between me and others that felt impossible to climb over right now?

With blurry vision I picked the phone and stared at the fuzzy screen as I blinked back tears. > It is lonely, please teach me how to change it. I don't want to be alone anymore. <

My pure emotions just text block on a screen, but they stung enough that I found my clothes too much and began to strip, wanting to shower. Only as an afterthought did I think to inform him. > I am sorry but I need a moment to calm down. Can I text you tomorrow? <

> yeah… goodnight, I'll talk to you tomorrow <

Was it silly to think this may be the first time someone had said good night to me? With the sudden ache in my chest, I wondered if it was true, which only fueled the tears more as I headed for the bathroom.

Loneliness felt horrible.

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burnishedvictory · 3 months

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I don’t follow you I just stumble across this repost but what’s the point of leaving comments/feedback if 99% of the time they never get a reply and/or the author ends up ghosting the story 💀 nobody forces anyone to put out the work they do but most of the time the energy that y’all want is mostly never returned.

Hi Anon!

I assume this is in response to my reblog of the post asking people to leave their comments on AO3. (For anyone who missed it, it's here: https://www.tumblr.com/burnishedvictory/739351436811534336)

Several things:

The point of leaving comments/feedback is to tell the author you liked whatever it was you just read. The energy you're returning is the work they put into writing the fic you just read. If the author replies, that's a bonus, but not something I personally ever expect.

Some things to know about fics where the author doesn't reply to comments regularly:

There's about a 99% chance that the author read your comment and loved it. I don't know of any authors who don't love comments.

(Specifically, nice comments. Given that you felt it was okay to anonymously message someone you don't even follow such a blunt message, I feel the need to clarify this. No one wants critique, unless they've specifically asked for it. We do this for fun. If you don't like a fic, the back button is right there. Also, don't ask the author if/when they're going to finish an unfinished story. That annoys a lot of writers. (Not me, personally, but I have many writer friends who it really really annoys.))

Back to discussing fics where the author doesn't reply to comments! In my case, I have ADHD. For whatever reason, writing fic is something that my ADHD lets me do easily, but replying to comments is not. I would love to reply and still intend to, but then another day passes when I haven't actually done it. But my lack of replies doesn't mean I don't cherish each and every comment I get. I keep them in a separate folder and reread them regularly. I'd like to do that with all the comments I get, including not on AO3, but I am just not that organized (see: ADHD), so those comments get lost (which is exactly the point the post you're referring to was making).

I'm also chronically ill, and only have so much functioning time in my day. Other people work full time jobs, raise kids, etc. It becomes a question of priorities - do you want us to work on fics, or reply to comments? Sometimes we can't do both.

Finally, if you read the post you're referencing carefully, it's asking for people who are already leaving feedback in some way to (also) leave it as an AO3 comment. If you're leaving praise in a tag or a bookmark, throw it into a comment on the fic! If you're chatting about a fic positively with your friends, copy and paste the chat into the AO3 comments. (I'll even clarify this one - personally, if people private messaged me a chat like that, I'd be over the moon. I know there are privacy concerns with a chat like that, so you might not want to comment on AO3 with that specific thing. Very fair! But, like I said above, a chat sent to me like this would probably vanish into my memory, as I'm not organized enough to add it to my comments folder. It would be a very good memory, but not easily convenient to reread.)

For you, dear anon, if getting a response and the author finishing the story is that important to you, then I recommend only commenting on completed fics where the author replies regularly. No one forces you to comment, even on fics that you enjoyed that the author spent hours and hours working on. They are free for your enjoyment.

But consider how much energy you're bringing to the table to encourage the authors whose fics you love. Maybe your comment will encourage the author to open the file on a story that's been back burnered. Or if you tell an author about a specific part you loved, maybe that thing will show up in future fics.

Or, maybe, there will never be any indication that the writer even read your comment. But in that case, maybe the writer will get your comment and smile. Maybe they'll tell their friends and family about the lovely comment they got. Maybe your comment will make their day. And maybe you'll never get specifically rewarded for your comment, but you will put positive energy into the world, and who knows where that will lead.

#ask #AO3 #commenting etiquette

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moth--knight · 10 months

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💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback? // 💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? // 🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"? // 🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

omg......hiiiiiii :3

answers below the cut because I never shut up also thank you for asking!!! WAH

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

I love love love when people tell me what lines/sections of my fics hit the hardest for them!! specificity in comments is always nice :)

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

oh man, Desert Hearts for sure. I did not expect SO many people to get invested in it - it was actually kind of stressful toward the end cause I didn't wanna disappoint! but I am very grateful for everyone who has read it and commented and such. AUGH.

also my barlissa fics??? I wrote two on a whim in like a single week and people have been SO kind. I am a bit blown away. working on a third rn hehe :3 here are the links one // two

oh my god also leather and lace. the girlies really liked that smut xaskldfhsakj I wrote it as a gift for a friend but it is nice to see that leather butches are beloved by many <3 <3

essentially, a decent amount of my fics get more positive attention that I would assume. it is nice!!!! but also.....I do not understand. haha.

I am also kind of obsessed with how often people lovingly threaten me online over what I write, both fluff and angst. are you flirting with me? are you actually gonna beat my ass given the chance? are you just dramatic? who knows. I love it tho.

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

this is me being controversial but I don't think people "got" I'll see you back home or hyperosmia. like, people LIKED those fics a lot, but projected a lot of their own feelings onto them I felt. both of them were written on a whim and both of them are not my favorites. lmao. I understand WHY people were upset, over both luka as a character and the ending of bayo 3 as a whole (I too was/am upset, which is why I wrote the damn fics sajkfhwdkj) but idk. out of all my work they are they fics I think people engaged the least with despite leaving a lot of comments/kudos. most of the feedback I got was people ranting about their own opinions and like. NOTHING about the fics themselves. alas.

🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

this is such an interesting question, so forgive me cause I am gonna ramble a bit. i'll answer the first part first. ha.

fandom is this nebulous thing imo, and so interaction within fandom is a double edged sword. for as many lovely people are you will find, there are ten more who fucking suck asdjhskj. the best way I have found to navigate fandom is to find people making the things you like, support their work, and if opportunities to get closer arise, feel free to take them.....but also feel free to end them. I have blocked many accounts over just the past year just because I realized they were making my personal fandom experience stressful - nothing personal usually, but I use fandom for fun, so I don't wanna engage with people who are making me miserable lmao. block and curate, prune your fandom garden, and you can have an overall good experience I think. interaction is the lifeblood of fandom! I think comments, kudos, tagging people in things, talking in the tags of posts, etc etc make it so fun and worthwhile. like personally, I do write for my own enjoyment, but it wouldn't be half as interesting without readers/commenters/mutuals/oomfies/friends. I have become friends with some of the most genuine people in my life through fandom, and even got to meet some IRL (and abby if you see this I WILL be visiting your ass our next trip will NOT be cancelled xsakjdghsaj). sorry I am rambling is it almost 1am here in NY but like. fandom is about participation I would argue. but it is good to be careful. be respectful. be patient. don't hesitate to step back or mute or block if you need to. engaging with each other is SO awesome but you aren't going to vibe with everyone and that is ok!!!!!!

oh man. I perhaps am not the best person to answer this, because online I am pretty socially outgoing? I rarely reach out first but if people wanna talk or whatever I am usually very down. I love people. love chatting. teehee. but I think that "fandom engagement" can take a lot of different forms. even if you don't feel comfortable talking to people directly, you can always still like/reblog/retweet their work! you can leave notes in the tags! you can leave anon comments! I think sometimes fandom creates this pressure to engage and create, but some of my favorite people in fandom are the ones who just reliably read and like my fics and if I am lucky they will leave a comment that is just some emojis (I have a regular commenter like this. I would kill for them. I know NOTHING about them. but everytime they comment a purple heart on my fic? whew. amazing.) essentially, do what feels comfortable for you and know that even if you aren't engaging directly in the same way, it is still SO lovely to have people engaging at all. fandom should be fun and not stressful imo. if you are having fun that is what counts. we are all playing in a big sandbox together. if you wanna chill by the edge and watch or play with your own tools that is totally fine. just nice to have you there. :)

ANYWAY. hope this was interesting for anyone who reads this behemoth of an ask. dklasfdhdj.

#asks #anon I could kiss you on the mouth for asking multiple of these #THANK YOU SINCERELY #they were fun ones too hehehe #ask game #moth writes

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angstysebfan · 3 years

Text

The Past Can Break You - 4

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

AU: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?

A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.

Warning: honestly probably not the best ive written... sorry

It’s been almost a week since you told Bucky you needed space. You have barely come out of your room, because you didn’t want to see him, and especially her. You wonder if this is really the end of your relationship. You are grateful that he has given you space, and according to Nat, he hasn’t gone near Dot. Dot has been spending a lot of time down in the lab with Tony. Wanting to learn about technology. Good luck to her.

Over the last few days you have been waking up to soft knocking on your door. You go to open the door and find a single red rose with no note. You figure it is Bucky, and while it makes your heart flutter, you force yourself to leave in on your dresser. As you walk down to the kitchen to eat breakfast you see Nat sitting at the counter.

“Morning, Nat,” you say quietly.

She smiles softly at you, “Morning. How are you feeling?” she asks.

You shrug as you continue making your coffee and grab your fixings for cereal. When you turn around you see Bucky sleepily walk into the kitchen. You look at the bags under his eyes and he stops short and stares at you. You feel your heart break when you know that he doesn’t sleep well without you.

“Morning, Doll,” he says, completely ignoring Nat’s existence.

“Good morning Bucky,” you say. You decide to take your breakfast to go and shuffle around him as he walks further into the room. You stop and turn to look at him again, “Thank you for the roses. They are beautiful, “ you say before leaving.

Bucky sighs heavily when you leave and looks at Nat. “God I hope this works. I can’t live like this much longer, Nat. I miss her so goddamn much,” he says as he puts his face in his hands.

“Barnes man up. This will work. She commented on the roses. She is hurt and doesn’t trust you, which you can’t blame her for. But the fact that she thanked you, tells me that she appreciates you putting in the effort. It’s time to do this. Let her know that you are serious about making her a priority. Now I bought everything. You go get ready and I will get her there, okay?” She says.

Bucky nods and heads out of the kitchen to get ready. He hopes that this will work. He is hoping that if anything it will show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to be with you. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous that you will reject him also. But Nat seems to think this will work, so we will see.

You are sitting on your bed, watching Netflix when there is a knock on your door. You call for them to enter and see Nat walk through the door. She walks over and sits on your bed.

“Hey honey, how are you holding up?” she asks as she sits.

You shrug, hugging yourself. “I-I miss him. But I’m still mad at him. But I want to talk to him. But I’m scared that it will end,” you say.

Nat pulls you into a hug, “Honey, I promise he has been moping in his room all week. I don’t think he has gone near her once. Steve has been watching over her, and she has been spending a lot of time in the lab, which is weird, but whatever. He told her he was done and he meant it. Talk to him,” she says.

You can’t help the tears, “Has be been... okay?” you ask.

“He misses you. He wants to make it up to you. Are you ready to hear him out, and have a conversation with him?” Nat asked.

You sigh and think about whether or not you are ready. You look at her and node slowly, causing her to smile. “Good. I was hoping that would be your answer. Now get up and put...” she ran to the bedroom door and grabs a box from the hallway she left there, bringing it back to the bed. “This on. I’ll meet you in the garage in 1 hour,” she says before leaving. You open the box and gasp.

When Nat pulls up to the edge of Central Park, you look at her in question. She nods telling you to go ahead. You get out of the car and start walking down the path. As you get closer to the clearing, you hear light music. You continue walking and finally enter the clearing where you recognize you had your first date with Bucky. You look around and see roses everywhere and candles, along with music.

Finally your eyes meet Bucky, who is standing in the middle of open space. He is wearing a navy blue suit, that matches your navy blue dress that Nat gave you. He has shaved his beard to some light scruff, that makes you swoon. His hair is cut short, and looks so soft. You see he is nervous as he waits for you to make a move.

“Hi Bucky,” you say.

He sighs and gives you a small smile, “Hi baby. I’m glad you came,” he says as he steps up to you with another rose in his hand.

He hands it to you, which causes you to smile, “Well Nat didn’t exactly give me much of a choice,” you say.

He laughs, “Yea, she has been helping me set up all of this. I’m so glad you are here. I-I wanted to... I... Baby, I can’t even find the words to apologize for being such an ass. But I’m done. I told Dot she had to deal with things herself. I told her that you were the one I want. And, I haven’t seen her since. I know that it will take a lot more than a date and begging to get you to forgive me, but I hope that we can recreate our first date because I fell in love with you that night. Not that I am expecting anything, but I owed you, and--”

You cut Bucky off with you lips slotting on his. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you impossibly close. “Bucky, I’m ready to talk. I’m ready to fix this. I’ve missed you. I love you so much, and the fact that you are doing all of this, means so much to me. This isn’t going to fix everything, but I’m ready to talk,” you say.

Bucky leads you to the table and you both sit and talk about the situation. You talk about your fears and how you felt when Dot arrived. You expressed how his actions affected you, and Bucky took everything in stride. When you finally finished going through everything, Bucky then told you how the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He felt that he owed it Dot, because he knows how scary it is to wake up in a different time. And while he used to have love for Dot, the moment he met you and started to date you, Dot no longer held his heart. Only you.

He told you that he will never put anything ahead of you or your relationship again. After you both agreed you will move back into your room, but Bucky still has a lot of things to make up for. You then danced the night away under the stars. You both eventually make your way back to your shared apartment. Bucky surprised you with new lingerie, the same pair he ruined that night. You got a redo of that date night, and this time, Bucky made sure you had several more orgasms, before finishing himself. No interruptions, no ex’s, just the two of you reclaiming your love on each other.

Dot had been trying to figure out what she could do to split you and Bucky up for good. She knew you would be pathetic and fall for his charms again, just like all the girls from back in the day. She had to step up her game in this century though, and who better to learn from then one of the smartest men who happen to live in the compound also.

She started to spend time with Tony to learn the ins and outs of technology in the 21st century. He also taught Dot how utilize FRIDAY. showed her all the fun and cool thing that no one cared to know. Dot made sure she seemed completely excited and interested, which helped Tony’s ego and gave her more information. Eventually Dot figured out something that she could use.

She smiled when she saw both you and Bucky going into shared apartment after your date. While she hated the idea of you and Bucky together, she knew that she could use her new knowledge against you. And now was the perfect time to put that in motion.

Chapter 3 / Chapter 5

Not 100% how I feel about this chapter. I felt like it was getting too long so I cut it, but maybe I shouldn’t have. So I’m sorry if it’s not as good. But DRAMA ALERT!! What is Dot going to do? Feedback is appreciated!

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Story Taglist: @afuckingshituniverse @wintrfld @cherries-and-berries @ilovemarvelanne1 @lilli2411 @minty-fiction @peakywitch @blue-mostacho @r0bbieshapiro @uncreativezx @sarahjoestewy-blog

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #Bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x dot

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butterflyyeo · 3 years

Text

jealous

pairing — han jisung x reader

genre — angst (?)

tw — slightly suggestive (?)

wc — 3035

a/n — yall idk wtf this is im trying my best to get better at writing angsty (???) stuff so im really sorry if this is absolute trash T^T. feedback is appreciated !!

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you hadn't seen your brother, chan, for a long time, six months to be exact and of course you missed him dearly. when he called to tell you that he was coming home for a while you nearly cried of joy, however, the happiness faded when he mentioned that he'd be bringing his band mates, that meant changbin... and han jisung.

it wasn't exactly a secret that you didn't get along with jisung, and you never knew why. he always just irked you a bit, and on purpose too. it was constant bickering between the two of you, fortunately, chan and changbin had learnt to tolerate it. speaking of changbin, you actually quite liked him and he was rather fond of you too. chan knew this, in fact, chan saw all the underlying tension between you and the rest of 3racha. he was thankful that he was your brother, but he didn't have to intervene, he was fully aware that you could handle these things on your own. unless of course you asked for help, and in that case, he would go to war for you.

a sturdy knock hit the door a few times and you ran to the door, unlocking it.

"channie!!" you leaped onto him and hugged him tightly. he dropped his bags down to the floor just so he could hug you back. "i've missed you so much!" you said as you hopped down and picked up both of his bags.

he grinned, "i've missed you too, y/n."

your smile dropped almost instantly as you saw jisung leaning against the doorway, a smirk across his face that just made you want to slap him. faking a smile, you greeted changbin, "hey changbin! good to see you." he gave you a sincere nod and smile before picking up his suitcase. "now chan, shall i put these in the guest room?" you asked, chan was already going through the fridge, looking for food.

"mm." he mumbled. you took it as a yes and heaved his bags to the guest room, dumping them beside the bed. as you turned around to help changbin with his luggage, someone blocked your way.

"you didn't say hello to me?" jisung questioned, though, it sounded more like a statement.

huffing, you responded, "why would i?"

"because you love me," he said as he leaned in close. "and you missed me."

"you must be confused." you shrugged and pushed past him. that was too close for comfort. you thought as you walked out and picked up changbin's last bag.

"hey y/n," chan began, "what's for dinner?"

you sighed, "i'm gonna have to go shopping chan, i don't have enough food for all of you." you went to put your shoes on and a jacket too, since it was getting late and more chilly outside. "who wants to chauffeur me to the grocery store?" you joked.

"anything for you, my love." jisung said teasingly as he held his hand out to you.

"uh, i'd rather not." you swatted his hand away. "c'mon changbin, let's go!" you said while dragging changbin up from the sofa. he groaned, but honestly he didn't mind so much. he was just being a big baby.

the car trip was short and quiet, mainly because changbin was tired from all the travelling they had done to get to your house. plus, their schedule has been so full lately, they were lucky to have this time off.

wandering through isles, you began picking up ingredients and placing them intro a trolley.

"you really missed us?" changbin began, "me and chan of course..." he trailed off but a playful smile tugged at his lips.

"of course i am! jisung on the other hand..." you rolled your eyes, pushing the trolley along.

he chucked, "you really still hate each other? after all these years?"

you huffed, a little too obnoxiously, "yes. i do still hate him. and i'm sure he despises me too. i don't even know what it is... it's just... the way he treats me. he acts like he deserves my friendship, which he doesn't. it's something you earn."

"remind me to never piss you off." changbin laughed as he put a bag of chips in the trolley.

once you had everything you needed you put it through the register, changbin insisted he paid, since you were letting the three of them live with you.

shortly after you arrived home, you began cooking. while he wasn't the best, changbin offered to help as best he could. you actually thought it was really sweet. he passed you utensils, condiments and he even set the table.

meanwhile, chan was fast asleep in the guest room and jisung was showering in the provided ensuite. you turned to changbin and high fived him, "we're all done! i should wake up chan. you can start eating if you want." proud of his efforts, changbin sat down and began to eat.

gently pressing the door open to the guest room, you whispered, "chan? dinner is ready." you walked over to him and was about to softly shake him when jisung walked out of the bathroom, only a towel around his waist. his tousled wet hair dripped little drops of water down his chest and it was rather overwhelming to see him so exposed.

contrary to your thoughts, he couldn't care less, he enjoyed watching the way you panicked and blushed heavily. if this is what it takes. he thought.

"oh! um, jisung. i'm so sorry, i was just coming to tell chan that dinner is ready, i should've knocked or-" you blurted out in a quiet voice, weary of chan waking up.

jisung let out a low chuckle, "it's fine, y/n. i'll wake him up once i've dressed."

"thanks," you said as you went to leave, "wait... no snarky comment?" you puzzled.

he said nothing, just winked at you as you closed the door.

you joined changbin at the dinner table, sitting across from him. "how's the food?" you asked as you took a bite for yourself.

"y/n it's amazing! you're seriously a great cook. man, i wish i was this good." he said as he took a small bite of the spaghetti you had prepared.

at that moment, chan dawdled out the door and jisung closely behind. they joined you at the table and also began eating.

"don't worry about it binnie, i can teach you to cook, years of living on my own without chan seems to have payed off a bit." you joked.

"binnie?" jisung questioned the nickname you had given to changbin, whilst changbin sat there furiously blushing. he tried to hide it by lowering his head but that honestly seemed it give it away more.

"sounds cute." you shrugged, not thinking much of it.

chan cleared his throat, "okay so here's the plan for tomorrow," he began, taking another bite of spaghetti, "changbin and i have to go talk to JYP about an upcoming show we are doing, so we could be gone all day with that. there's lots to plan."

"wait a second, why am i not going? i'm apart of 3racha too." jisung stated.

changbin replied, "did you get the email from him?"

jisung shook his head, "well, no but-"

"then you're not coming." changbin grinned cheekily, knowing this upset jisung.

when everyone had finished with their meal, changbin stood up and collected all the dirty dishes, only to begin washing them in the sink. you quickly tried to stop him, "oh, changbin! don't worry i can do that." you said as you tried to take over, but he refused.

"no. you won't. dinner was great! you've done enough for today, if we are gonna be living here for the next few weeks then i might as well be of some use." he smiled at you before nodding to the tv, signalling for you to relax.

tired as ever, chan come over and kissed your head goodnight before going back to sleep. by now it was nearly 10pm, you had a late dinner but that was because they arrived later than expected.

you sat down on the sofa and began browsing movies. you decided to watch your favourite, even though you've seen it a million times. once he was finished with the dishes, changbin joined you on the sofa to watch the movie, you quickly filled him in on all the little details of the plot.

jisung was still sitting at the dinner table, scrolling through his phone, he was contemplating coming to join the two of you in watching the movie, but decided against it when he saw changbin put his arm around you. rolling his eyes and scoffing a little too loud, jisung stood up and went to the guest room he was sharing with chan. he tried his best not to slam the door but somehow that didn't happen.

"huh, wonder what's up with him?" changbin asked, looking at the door wide eyed. "i'll go check, sorry, i'll be back in a sec." he followed jisung into the guest room, you heard changbin quietly ask if he was okay.

what started as a whispered discussion soon became a hushed argument, you were worried that soon they would start yelling at each other. luckily chan was a deep sleeper, he also slept with earphones in, so you were pretty sure he wouldn't hear any of it.

the minutes passed and their quarreling continued, you debated going in there to try and make some peace but you decided against it, this seemed to be something personal between the two of them. instead, you switched off the tv and the lights, and went got ready for bed. as you were about to close your eyes you heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the door opening and closing. whoever it was, you knew they could take care of themselves, they were both adults and probably just needed some space.

when you woke up, it was around 7am. you quickly threw a hoodie on over your shirt, feeling a bit cold and walked into the living space to see changbin, sleeping softly on the sofa. it only just occurred to you that there wasn't enough beds for all of you in your current living situation.

you gently peeked into chan's room to see him sprawled out, sleeping a deep sleep. you smiled to yourself, knowing that he got all the sleep he deserved. the empty bed in the room didn't go unnoticed however.

it was jisung who left last night. and he didn't seem to be back yet.

slightly worried, you decided to cook up some bacon and eggs for when the boys woke up.

"morning y/n." you turned around to see changbin leaning against the kitchen counter.

you smiled, "morning! sorry if i woke you up, i'm just making some breakfast, you've probably got time to shower if you want to before you eat."

"serious? man, what did we do to deserve you?" changbin said looking at you sincerely.

you laughed lightly, "nothing, now go! and please wake chan up when you get out."

he just chuckled as he walked away and closed the guest room door behind him. you wondered if you should make enough breakfast for jisung, would he be back soon? if he wasn't, he could just re-heat it, you thought.

the last few pieces of bacon finished cooking so you begin buttering the toast, you made a lot knowing that chan has a big appetite and there was a good chance they wouldn't have time to eat today. your train of thought was interrupted once again by changbin.

"anything i can do to help?" he asked, he was dressed quite smartly, but you understood as he was going to console with JYP himself.

"nope! i'm just about done, plus, you wouldn't want to dirty your clothes," you said as you began serving breakfast.

"ah okay, i woke chan up, he wanted to have a shower so he shouldn't be too much longer." he said, "can i?" he asked, pointing to one of the cups of steaming hot coffee you set on the counter.

"of course!" you said. a question burned in the back of your mind and you wondered if you should ask or not. "uh, changbin..." you began.

changbin knew exactly what you were about to say, "he's okay, y/n. he just wanted some space." his eyes stared at the wall blankly. there was more to this than needing space.

"so.. why was he upset then? you guys had a pretty heated argument.."

changbin's eyes met yours, "i'm sorry you had to hear that." he took a sip of coffee, "we just had a bit of a disagreement, it happens all the time... you see, the thing is-"

"good morning to my favourite people!" chan said as he waltzed out of the guest room, also looking rather sharp.

you and changbin smiled at his enthusiasm, "morning!" the two of you chimed back.

"breakfast made? hot coffee? you seriously are the best sister in the world! it's like we're staying at a five star hotel." chan said picking up a mug of coffee.

you laughed, "i'm your only sister."

he shrugged, "still the best," he took a sip and hummed, looking around the room, "hey, where's jisung?"

"i don't know. i heard him leave last night." you said, placing two plates of food at the dinner table.

chan sent a red hot glare at changbin, knowing exactly why jisung would've stormed out. changbin looked away sheepishly.

"okay, well, breakfast is ready! eat up, you guys have a busy day." you said sitting down in front of a plate.

chan and changbin began discussing things for later with JYP, while you just sat their mindlessly eating your breakfast. you still couldn't help but wonder where jisung had went, and why he wasn't back yet.

you had completely zoned out and was just picking at the scraps of your plate when chan spoke, "well that was seriously great y/n! what a good way to start the day."

you smiled at your brother, "ah, it's the least i can do, maybe you could ask JYP if you can dedicate a song to me in return."

the three of you laughed and you began to clear up the plates while the boys finished getting ready. shortly after, they said their goodbyes and closed the front door behind them. although the door muffled his voice, you heard chan say to changbin, "you seriously fought over that again?"

you sighed to yourself, what were you going to do all day? you decided to finish cleaning up and have a shower.

you let the water run until it was warm before stepping in, you had to remember to be mindful because you often got carried away and distracted in the shower and lost track of time.

which is, exactly what happened, before you knew it you had been half an hour. shit, you thought. as you wrapped a towel around your body, you remembered jisung and how you saw a little too much of him after he showered. you blushed furiously just remembering it. that's when you realised that your feelings for changbin were just a deflection of the feelings you have for jisung. you're ridiculous, you thought. he hates you, despises you, enjoys making fun of you. you quickly ruled out the possibility of him ever returning the feeling and finished dressing.

you spent the day multitasking some of your studies while watching movie after movie, trying to be somewhat productive. your stomach suddenly growled and you checked the time, "must be time for lun-" you said aloud, "oh, it's 5pm." you laughed at your silly sense of time and how you had got carried away all day. but you soon frowned, 5pm and jisung still wasn't back?

since the boys weren't home you made yourself a light meal and sat at the dinner table alone, listening to some background music. it was actually quite relaxing. the evening golden sun shone through the window as you finished eating. you quickly began washing up your plate, when you heard the door creak open.

"oh, chan you're home! i just finished eating, but i can make something for you and changbin just give me a min-" but when you turned around to greet them, it wasn't chan or changbin. it was jisung. "jisung."

"are you gonna admit that you missed me this time? or do i have to leave for longer?" he smirked but you just sighed in relief. you hated to confess that you worried you wouldn't hear his stupid comments for a long while.

you spoke quietly, "of course i missed you. i was worried sick."

"oh? worried now?" he toyed.

"yes, worried! i heard you arguing with changbin and then you left!" you exclaimed.

his face turned away at the mention of changbin's name, "well sometimes changbin and i argue, it's normal."

you scoffed, "that's what he said."

"he told you?" jisung asked.

"no, he didn't tell me what you fought about, but it would seem that it isn't the first time because i heard chan scolding him after they left this morning." you admitted.

"they're not back?"

you shook your head, "nope," jisung looked away, "look, i just had dinner but is there anything you want?"

"yeah." he began.

"what would you like?" you asked.

"you." jisung said bluntly, catching you off guard. "and changbin wants you too."

it all made sense now. "oh, i, i see.." you said, quite taken aback. "jisung, it could ruin everything, we'd be playing with fire."

"i don't care, y/n." he said taking a few steps closer.

"but, chan is my brother." you said.

"he's my best friend." jisung countered, coming closer again.

"what about changbin?" you asked.

"he's also my best friend." at this point, jisung was standing face to face with you.

"hang on a second," you took a step back, hitting the counter, "i don't owe you anything." you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips.

he smirked, "but i owe you everything."

#han jisung x reader #han jisung #han #stray kids han #stray kids scenarios #han jisung angst #han angst #stray kids imagines #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios

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doriana-gray-games · 2 years

Note

Right, *ahem*, let me engage in the literary critic mode.

As a reader, I do like the IF, I would say it's pretty solid, BUT there's something that bothers me which is the fact that it relies too much on our preknowledge of whom are these characters. Sure the name already states on what's based, but if it's not a fan-fiction, such characters should be developed so we can know what is different from the originals and set that this is in fact a standalone, which is something that I feel is missing.

Following the "develop" subject, the first chapter was solid for it was something which the readers became the players to solve a small mystery. That raised the expectations for the second chapter to be more fleshed out, that is, to be more reading than choosing, but even the dialogs were part of a choice tree with small text for each of them. It was so fast, that both chapters could be merged in a single one without notice.

I believe there's very much potential to immerse the readers by prolonging the chapters and making sure the "fiction" is not secondary to "interactive". Take for example the mystery series. The series even though focused on, well, the mystery, still has many unrelated dialogues presenting the watchers the personality and affinity of the characters. That's what I feel is missing a little in the An Affair of the Heart.

Lastly, don't worry, you're not doing things wrong, after all, writing is art and no one can do art wrong.

(english is not my first language, forgive the grammar mistakes)

~💙

This is really helpful, thank you so much! ❤️ it’s given me a lot things to think about, and how maybe to fix these issues :) but Is it alright if I ask follow up questions in chat?

To everyone:

As I've said before, I've never written anything before--so I’m relying on all of you to tell me when things don’t work, because I, and I’m not sure if this is common or just me, can’t play my own game like a first time reader. When I read the game it comes from a very different place than when I read someone else’s game. So I feel like I’m stumbling around in the dark a little with how to improve and such. I’m really really thankful for feedback—even if you’re afraid you might hurt my feelings, I promise I feel more comfortable *knowing* what the actual issues are than not ❤️

I also want to thank everyone who sent messages and comments, I was/am having a bit of a tough day and I guess that probably showed in my post, so some of the encouragement did make me tear up a bit. And thanks for all the tips and shared feelings ❤️ I will try and get better at tagging, reblogging , and reader engagement, that is really helpful ❤️❤️❤️

Oh, and as someone asked—I’m not dropping or pausing the game!!! It’s nothing like that and I have no such plans or thoughts, just a weak moment into my brain and heart I suppose. But thank you ❤️ and don’t worry, I love making this game even if perhaps the last post didn't look like it.

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ohmysparkle · 3 years

Text

Spellbound is my upcoming piece for the Strange Devotion collab hosted by @bearseungmin. I've been working on this piece since around march... and I don't want to overpromise but I think It'll be around 100K across a few teaser scenes, and three of four chapters. I've spent months researching and editing and writing, and it's been very fun! I'm also accompanying the series with a lot of visual media, such as maps, newspapers, and other elements (which I have created myself) that can help you immerse yourselves in the lore. I would immensely appreciate feedback and comments.

🌙✨Tag List: @xviternity @straykisz

Here is the first little bite of this project.

✧･ﾟ: *✧ ` . *: ･ﾟ : * ･ﾟ✧ * : ･ﾟ✧ *.✧

Pairing: Hyunjin (Stray Kids) x Reader

Genre: Dark Fantasy AU, Mystery, smut.

Teaser Length: 1.6K

Warnings: None in this chapter. For the series overall, smut, gore, witchcraft, religious themes, and I hope it gets scary too!

Enjoy!

✧･ﾟ: *✧ ` . *: ･ﾟ : * ･ﾟ✧ * : ･ﾟ✧ *.✧

The woman in front of you is beautiful. She must have been the most beautiful woman that many people had ever seen in as many lifetimes.

You hold her face in your hands and it’s hard to the touch, firm and polished like stone - the skin does not drag as you run a finger over it, inspecting her features. She is not cold, not warm; the same temperature of the room, in fact. Her eyes are perfectly still, looking beyond you and never at you; unflinching, unfocused. They seem to hold a thousand colors of amber and earth in them and they are so still they seem like glass. Her skin lacks its luster, only temporarily, but its olive and brown hues still show beneath the pallor. You imagine how it must have shone among the sun of the land from which she came, and how it would feel in that warmth from that ancient time.

You see the gash at her neck, poorly mended who knows how long ago. That must have been what killed her, you think. She must have been near fourty when she died, an age that in her beauty still seemed only the ripening of a flower, and not as many would think, its wilting. You wonder if you too would grow beautiful in such a way… or would you simply age?

She doesn’t blink as she doesn’t breathe. She has no need to move and if she so desires she could stay still for years on end and awaken in another era feeling only that she has overslept. It is only when you call her name that she does answer.

“Berenice.” You call her. It sounds very foreign in this small town where the two of you have met, just as yours does. But she doesn’t call you by your name. She only calls you Doctor, as everyone else does, it would seem far too strange to give her your name - it’s too foreign, too different, and above all; too revealing.

As you wonder, her features flick with animation, her eyes widen and adjust, her head turns to yours, her lips part and she exhales the stagnant breath that she had held within her for several days now.

“Yes, Doctor.” She answers. She speaks with that same placeless accent that you have heard in others of her age, who have ventured in different lands and times and tongues, speaking in a way that is so mixed and mended that it seems to come from no place at all. It’s an alien way of speaking, and you hope it’s not what unmasks her.

“How do you feel?” you ask her, still pressing the pads of your fingers into her flesh as it softens, almost mimicking the texture of the living. Good… that’s good. So long as it continues to soften, it is good.

“Alert, weakened.” She explains. “Lesser.”

“Lesser?” you question.

“Than I was.” She hums, thinking of the words, archaic and unintelligible ones most likely occupying the beginnings of her train of thought before she can describe her thoughts to you. “Yes - less. Like half a person, or an empty person.” She clasps her hands, balls them into fists. The change in sense and strength is always so unsettling to them, you always see the same reaction.

“It will be expected for the first few weeks, but you’ll feel better as your diet progresses and you begin to sleep normally. The sun may make you ache and irritate your eyes, but it won’t harm you as much anymore. You can begin to acclimate at your discretion. Slowly you’ll feel like you gain strength, but it is completely different. You won’t be able to do the same things, so be… careful.”

“Will I feel hunger?” She questions.

“Yes, but not the same appetite, not quite. You will be able to resist. One day you may even begin to crave what you call ‘human’ food.” You chuckle. She does technically eat human food.

“So I will not eat and drink from man?”

“You always could, but it won’t give you the same satisfaction. It won’t sate your appetite. There will be no more bloodlust, as you had before, and like I said, you might even enjoy human food.”

“And am I human?”

“I would say you always have been… you are just sick.”

“Your kind do not think so.”

“Pffft! Nonsense… many do. And well, I’ve proven it to be an illness, haven’t I? And you are on the path to recovery.” You scoff, “‘your kind’, ‘my kind’, it's a pointless label. Here, there, wherever, it’ll be different.”

“Still they confuse us with the other blood drinkers.” She argues. Those of her age aren't usually quite expressive, but you hear a sadness in those words.

“Aaah yes, the nightcrawlers. Creepy crawlies! They are not like you, they can’t walk in the sun because they have sold their soul and God can burn them in His light, like witches! Your kind, the sick, can. Daywalkers and Nightcrawlers. Different names depending on where you are, but still that’s about it. Step in the sun and they won’t confuse you.” You say after tapping the tip of her nose. She is hundreds of years old and seems confused by the gesture, so perhaps that approach should be exclusive to your child patients.

“God, you believe in Him?” This one was quite inquisitive - curious of the world. You wonder how she has lived, if it’s been in seclusion, away from the times, away from the world.

“One way or another, ‘He’ is there. Or She. A long time ago I had a… group of sorts that I worked with. Everyone had their own creed, and we’d all share blessings and icons from these faiths indiscriminately. Be it wrong or right, any belief can be a channel for us to make the distinctions that protect us, that we have faith in. There is us, the good, and the other, mostly bad. If you believe or not, there is a need for this sort of scheme and these figures. The names, the chants, the rituals. They all have a purpose when it comes to fighting certain things. You need to know what to call things, what belongs where, what is good and what isn’t… So you can pick and choose your doctrine to work with - fundamentally, that’s it I guess.”

“Hmm… I have known many gods in my time then.”

“And have you ever known them to be true?”

“Like you say, it does not matter if we believe it or not, but I have seen things and men need to give them names.”

“Straightforward I think, in the end we all seem to speak of the same things.”

“Then can you be straightforward once more and tell me when I will be human again?”

“As I’ve said. You always have been.” You sigh before answering, “as you begin to… acclimate, and follow the instructions I’ve given you, you’ll feel more like your old self. After a year or so the symptoms may have almost entirely disappeared, and you will also take on the detriments of mortal health without any enhancements, if we may call them that. Your senses will dull, as will your strength, you will weaken and become less resilient.”

You pause to look at her, before deciding to confess. “I think it may be impossible to completely eliminate the toxins left in your body, I’ve only been doing this for some years so it’s difficult to say what the long term results will be. If you are ever compelled, by your own will, or some shocking external factor, to begin to drink regularly once more, then you will feed your body the same es en es needed for the illness to grow within you once more.”

“I see. So I must be wary, forever.”

“Not forever anymore.”

“Not anymore.”

The woman stands and walks as if she were floating, still such minuscule precision in her movements. You watch the beauty in awe as she prepares to leave, as she wordlessly says farewell with a kiss to each of your hands and cheeks - another ancient gesture. You’ve warned her to be cautious of unfriendly eyes on her journey home, as you have warned all incoming and outgoing patients who come and go so secretly and illicitly. You expect that she will remain unseen - simply another person in the crowds.

You could only hope that the newly added eyes of one monster hunter Hyunjin Hwang would not target her on her way out, or those who have yet to arrive.

Because what would you do if they were?

What would he do if he discovered you?

And more importantly… what would you do to him?

#stray kids au #strange devotion skz collab #straykidsland #hwang hyunjin #stray kids smut #stray kids fantasy au #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut

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ben-c-group-therapy · 3 years

Text

Lost In A Daydream

Prompted by @tom-hlover: Benedict Cumberbatch X assistant reader, where Reader fell in love with her boss but knows that it couldn't be, so she resorted to writing which luckily she used a pen. Name as her writings became successful and even surprised her that Ben reads her works until he knew it was her and found out about her feelings, and he was feeling the same way too

Pairing: Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of, all fluffy.

Word count: 1,111

A/N: I'm not taking request, but I was asked very nicely, and I didn't want to let a fan down. I have a horrible time saying no, lol. I hope you like it @tom-hlover. So this is my first fic posted in forever, like in years, so be kind, please. If you like it, comment, like, reblog, please! I love your feedback.

Other notes: (Y/P/N) is Your Pen Name. *Gif Credit goes to @thelostsmiles*

Working as an assistant to Benedict Cumberbatch for the past year had been a fantastic opportunity, one you hadn't quite expected to receive. The job had been presented to you by Benedict's previous assistant when she turned in her resignation letter as she was moving away to be with family in the states.

Over the year assisting your boss, you had developed more than just feelings of friendship towards him. Being so close and constantly around Benedict, you slowly developed romantic thoughts. The feelings that you had were eating away at you slowly, and it was no chance you would spill them to Benedict or that he'd in any way return the same feelings, so you decided to put your college courses in creative writing to use and start by writing fanfictions here and there in your free time. When they began to gain attention, several of your readers suggested you start publishing eBooks and submitting drafts to publish. Never had you thought they'd take off as they did, but you had sold several books online, and one of your first books was due to release today in stores, under a pen name, of course.

"Good morning, (Y/N)." Ben said with a smile as he came into the studio to prepare for another day of filming his newest movie. He would spend a while in the makeup chair, so he always had a book on hand.

"Hello, Benedict. You look very cheerful this morning." You commented at the tall man's bright smile. Ben usually had his face buried in a script, but today you noticed he was carrying a bag from his favourite bookstore.

"Well, one of my favourite authors has just published another book, and it was released today. Just grabbed my copy on the way here." He sat down in the chair and cracked the new hardback book open.

It was then that you noticed the title of the book he had. Your book, to be exact, it was also then that your heart sank to your stomach, and you felt nauseated.

"What if he finds out it's me? What if he figures out it's about him? What if he knows it was me all along and he…."

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)? You with me?" Ben called out, making you snap your head up to look at him.

"With you? Wh-why. What do you mean?" You laughed a bit, trying to brush the whole thing off.

"I asked you if you had read any of (Y/P/N) 's books before, but you seemed very occupied." He laughed, making you gulp and blush a bit, looking down to some notes you had in your hand.

"Oh, ha, no. No." You cursed yourself for being so awkward. "I've heard great things, though, from friends."

"She's my favourite author. I'd love to meet her someday." Ben looked over you, carefully studying your curious behaviour before he got back to reading.

The day passed by with you trying to avoid Benedict unless he needed you beside him for work; otherwise, you stayed at a desk out of the way and tried working only to end up stuck in your thoughts.

Ben had a pretty good idea by the end of the day that you were the author of his favourite books, not only due to the way you had acted when you found out he had bought the book this morning but continued to avoid him all day when able. The actor would be lying if he said he didn't have similar feelings as the male character in the book towards his coworker. He was now determined to find out if the feelings were mutual between himself and (Y/N).

You were reading the same line again and again on a paper that had been given to you for a commercial that Ben was to be in in a few weeks.

Benedict came up behind you and called your name, going unnoticed by you with the first call.

"(Y/N)?" He said again and laid a hand on your shoulder to bring you back from your concentration.

You jumped and turned your head, looking up to the ocean blue eyes of your boss.

"Oh, Christ, you scared me." You placed your hand on your chest, feeling the thumping of your heart under your palm.

"You are jumpy today. Is everything okay? You seem a little off. Like in your own world almost." Benedict stated bashfully, wanting to say how he felt about you.

"Uh yeah, yeah. Just, um. Just a lot on my mind." You nodded and looked off. You just wanted to spill your guts to him and get it off your mind and chest.

"You can tell me anything. I know I'm your boss, but I consider you a friend as well. I need to, no, want to tell you. I only hope I'm not crossing the line or going to cross the line." Ben rubbed the back of his neck and tried to stop himself from continuing to ramble.

"I have feelings for you." Ben said suddenly.

"It was about you." You blurted out at the same time.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, staring dumbfounded at the handsome man you had admired. "Did you say you have feelings for me?"

"Yes. Yes, I do (Y/N). I also think you wrote the books, am I right?" He questioned curiously.

"Y-yeah. It's embarrassing. I'm so sorry if it's inappropriate." You wrung your hands and looked down at them. "I can take another job if it'll impact my position working with you." You continued.

"(Y/N)." Benedict interjected. "(Y/N)". He said again and failed to stop you, so he tipped your chin up and kissed your lips tenderly, only pulling away slightly to see if he crossed the line.

What he found was your eyes closed and your face in peaceful bliss. Smiling, Ben leaned in again and pressed a more passionate kiss, wrapping his arm around you, his large hand flat on the small of your back and one hand holding your face gently.

After breaking from the kiss and opening your eyes, you both had a smile.

"What about a date? Not a fictional one this time, an actual date. Then you can tell me about what else you have yet to publish, and I've yet to discover of yours." The actor chuckled as he looked down at you.

"A date I'm great with that idea, but you'll never see what I've posted on my blog. At least not yet." You died just thinking of what he would think if he saw half of the filth you had posted on your blog even before your employment with him.

#benedict cumberbatch #Benedict Cumberbatch fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #ben c x reader #benedict cumberbatch x reader #ben c / reader #fluff #benedict cumberbatch fluff #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #fanfiction writer #retired #request #special

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venusdeus · 3 years

Text

Court of Kings - Chapter 1

Summary: Sent to a neighboring kingdom to secure an alliance, forced to give up your dreams and ambitions, disregarded as a means to an end. You however have no desire to fulfil their wishes. And neither does Oikawa.

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x female reader

Genre: Fluff, comedy, angst, royalty au, arranged marriage au, enemies to lovers au (more like enemies to allies to friends to lovers), eventual smut?

Word count: 2700+

Warnings: All the characters are adults unless specified. This chapter is sfw. Minors do not interact.

Notes: Part 1 of a long series I’m planning to write. This is my first fic in this blog so I would greatly appreciate comments, follows and feedback!

Read Prologue first <...> Chapter 2

August 5th

The first messengers arrived when you were having afternoon tea with your literature instructor in the gardens of your summer residence, as your brother was practicing his sword skills not too far. A maid sent by your mother brought you the news of their negotiation a few hours later, accompanied by some of the strawberry macarons you loved so much.

If it were up to you, you would refuse such a ridiculous offer even before it was brought to your attention. Now that they had a male heir to the throne however, there was no use of a girl that had no claim to become the future ruler, other than being sent to create diplomatic relations now that you were over twenty summers.

“Where do you think they are from?” your brother asked as he tried to dust off his clothes, quite tired from following the orders of his practice partner all day long.

“I wouldn’t know, I didn’t see any flags with them.” you continued as he looked disappointed “But they were wearing blue, so at least we know it's not from the south.”

He nodded; his eyes wide with worry “I am glad they are not sending you there.”

“No one is sending me anywhere yet Hiro.” you answered quite annoyed, turning your head sharply to glare at the boy.

It was not his fault per see but him being recognized as the heir has left you in an awkward situation for the past twelve years. You loved your brother dearly, unlike the distant relationship you had with your parents. It was not because you had the ambition to rule the kingdom either. Of course, it was unfair as you were the firstborn, and if not for what was between your legs, you would also have been the one to inherit the crown.

Even if that was so, you simply did not find it in yourself to become a leader. You, however, did wish to be able to shape your own future. One that did not involve fulfilling the selfish wishes of others.

“It would be awfully lonely without you.” he sighed, instantly making you feel guilty for sounding a little bit too harsh.

Hiro looked incredibly small for his age, standing there with his shoulders slouched, fingers flicking, a skinny and sickly kid since the day he was born. He took after your father with his dark hair and almost pitch-black eyes, but with your mother's facial features, a contrast to your own looks that bore no resemblance to any of them, another reason for your alienation from the rest of the family.

“And it would be awfully quiet without you.” you teased “Maybe then I would be able to read in peace.”

Several footsteps coming behind you silenced you both before Hiro could retort, cutting the joyful air and replacing it with a heavy feeling.

Your mother was a beautiful woman that much was true, but in a different way to that of her kids. The Queen had extremely sharp features and her painted lips always supported a displeased frown. She acted as her title suggested, prim and proper, she fit her role perfectly.

Renowned for her charm when she was younger, she did not lose much to the ages if not for the wrinkles next to her keen eyes and the white threads on her hair. Likewise, she was as smart as she was alluring. Coming from a family that lost their wealth a long time ago even though they still supported titles, no one would even dream of her being second to the sole ruler of their beloved country. She was a success-driven woman, which made her a threat in the eyes of many in the court, thus she was not given the right to make a decision when it came to the education of the heirs she produced. Although affectionate towards her kids first, she had no say on the time she had with them, causing their family ties to weaken, and mostly spent her time with foreign ambassadors. A responsibility entrusted upon her by her husband.

“I see you received my message.” she declared not looking at you directly “We will talk more about this after our guests leave. For now, I want both of you to go to your rooms and stay there until dinner.”

You could sense the irritation in her voice. It was not for her kids, however, as you could see the dark circles under her eyes, a sign of her losing sleep for the past few days.

“Won’t we meet our guests?” Hiro questioned before you could.

“It is not needed as they are only messengers.” the Queen answered shortly before continuing her walk towards the main hall, her maids trailing behind. “I will see you two in an hour.”

Leaving your brother behind, you decided to head down towards the observatory. You knew that you would get an earful from your maids later for not changing your garments for the dinner, but your head was filled with too many questions and negative possibilities to care about dresses. It was not as if you did not know that this day would come. It even took longer than expected if all things considered. Most in your position would be engaged before they even stopped using diapers. It was a more political alliance than anything else, decided by the respective kingdoms and the advisors.

You even saw the letters that were exchanged since last year with multiple seals supporting different coat of arms. The council of your father must have declined the offers before this. Not for your sake, at least you didn’t think it was, but for not suiting their taste. It was a big deal for the princess of a country, whether being the heir or not, to marry someone as it reassured the ties you would create.

The only positive thing that happened so far was the fact that you would not be sent to the south. The Southern Kingdom was placed across the sea and was an important trade partner to your own.

It was a wealthy country for sure, but also too grim and the people too wild. Other than the traded goods it wasn’t a traveller-friendly country. They kept to themselves and even though the only thing that separated the two port kingdoms was a narrow sea, they had a vastly different culture. These differences resulted in legends and the rumors about the country becoming more and more outrageous over time.

They called their men barbaric, only interested in hunt and the art of war. Their women proclaimed witches, quite beautiful unlike the stereotype, but worshippers of a different God. All just foolish rumors said your history instructor. He was a wise man that travelled a lot when he was younger and according to him these tales were nonsense. Their folk did not originate there but immigrated over a few centuries ago. He taught you that the people of the Southern Kingdom were that of culture and arts. They just did not like intruders. His words didn’t ease your or Hiro’s heart however as you were fed these tales since you were younger.

If you could find a way to escape from this responsibility you would. Yet, since the first time you sensed what was going on you were looking for an answer, just to be disappointed every time.

The dinner was cold and tasteless even though it was made from the best ingredients one could manage to find. “The lady that makes them must hate her occupation with a passion” claimed your brother when you were dismissed “I can’t understand how mother likes it.”

Once again, the King did not join you at the table. It was always the same excuse, politics, responsibilities. But you knew better. You knew why your parents did not share a bed anymore and you could see the looks women of the court gave to your father. It was not because the King was a good-looking man, quite the opposite in fact, but power attracted people.

You were fully grown now and even when you were younger, you knew what these actions indicated. You even had the most unfortunate memory of seeing one of them, who was not much older than you, leaving your father's chamber looking quite flushed. You would have not cared if only the woman did not give you a curtsy while supporting a smirk.

Lady Winna was her real name, daughter of a lord that was close to the King, nicknamed Lady Whore by you. And most of the time, she was the reason your father would skip the meals altogether only to receive a feast in his room later that night. Which was why you knew that you should never hope for a love match. If lucky you could maybe be friends with your future partner.

“She does not hate her job, she hates her life” you replied “Not that it would matter, she will leave soon. I heard she was pregnant with a lord’s child. A married one on top of that.”

Hiro gasped “What if someone were to hear you talking about these rumors” he exclaimed hitting your arm quite forcefully “you could be punished.”

“Don’t act as if you never say such stuff you little bridge troll. I know how you talk behind your instructors.” you mused rubbing the pain off. “And who will punish a princess I ask you? If not for mother or father?”

“Do I need to know what I should punish you for?”

Both you and Hiro jumped at the unexpected voice of the Queen, a gasp leaving your mouths. She was holding a box in her hand and her face was supporting a rare, serene expression.

“Nothing of importance.” replied Hiro quickly “We were just afraid of falling behind our studies.”

The Queen did not seem convinced as her eyes narrowed, but she had a small genuine smile on. “I see. Why don’t you go on ahead and start your nightly studies then? I need to talk to your sister privately in the meantime.”

Hiro let out a snort that he tried to cover with a cough. You are in trouble he mouthed before bowing to your mother and disappearing through the corridor.

“I would like you to know I was just repeating what the ladies in the court were saying. Not that I believe the rumors of course, it is quite indecent.” you tried to explain quickly but the Queen cut you with a shake of her head.

“That is not why I wanted to talk to you dear. It is however quite incident for a lady to talk that way you are right.” she sighed “Why don’t we talk in my study?”

You knew what was coming now, after all you could not remember the last time you had a conversation with your mother alone, the relaxed expression on her face, however, gave you hope. Maybe, you thought, they decided it was not time yet. Or maybe they did not like the offers that came through.

“Close the door, will you?” she asked walking towards the desk that stood before the bookshelves that covered the walls.

“Where are your attendants?” you questioned as you followed her inside “Is there something wrong?”

“I thought you would be more comfortable if it were just the two of us that’s all. I need to show you something.” She answered motioning towards the box she was holding. “It came this morning. For you of course. Go on, open it.”

The box itself was made from heavy oak, painted black with a family crest carved on top of it. The symbol looked familiar enough, but you could not concentrate enough to remember where you knew it from over the heavy beating of your heart. Opening it cautiously you took a sharp breath between your teeth, observing the contents.

Inside stood a tiara that was made from white gems shaped in intricate designs that you have not encountered before and in the middle stood an icy blue diamond so big that you could have sworn it must have cost the yearly earnings of a whole country.

“Not a ring.” You stated matter of factly “A very bold choice for a gift.”

“Indeed. But you cannot expect less from Seijoh.” Your mother replied with a cautious voice, almost as if she was calculating your reaction.

“Seijoh…” the box cluttered on the table as you let go of it abruptly “You are sending me up north? We waged war against them for years! Even before my grandfather! And now you are sending me there?”

You knew the country itself was wealthy enough and that it had a strong military presence. They had many allies within the countries that bordered yours as well. But they also claimed right on your countries throne by sighting territorial dispute as well as a marriage between the two countries that produced no heir.

Now they were sending you there as a scapegoat. To secure his claim to the throne. And maybe even to theirs. An eye for an eye.

It took another week for your father to send a response and invite the Crown Prince and the King of Seijoh for a short visit before the decision was finalized and another two for them to arrive on the outskirts of your kingdom with their entourage behind.

As you sat in your suite biting your nails and waiting for their arrival, your maids were going in and out with different dresses in their hands looking for your approval. You on the other hand did not have the mental energy to entertain their ideas. It was bad enough that you had to attend a ball given in their honor that very evening, but you also had to be in the throne room soon enough to welcome them into the castle. Not to mention this would be the first time that you were to meet your possible future husband.

You heard of him before of course. How could you not when his reputation preceded him? A very cunning and ambitious young man, yet it was his looks that brought the most gossip. You heard his name whispered among the staff when they did not know you were listening and heard the ladies giggle when they mentioned the time that they spent in their court, with him.

It was enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth. Was it too much to ask that your future partner was a man of intelligence and few words? At least you would know that you could get along with him then. But a sharp and striking Casanova? They had to be jesting. That was the only possible explanation for this mockery.

As if your fathers’ ridiculous behaviors wasn’t enough now you had to entertain another man like him. It was pretty common for monarchs to take on other lovers, but you would not be embarrassed by a man you did not know in your own house, husband or not.

When you finally entered the throne room you could hear the commotion outside caused by non-other than the infamous man that was plaguing your thoughts for the past week. Your mother motioned you to hurry and take your place with a sudden turn of her chin just before the doors opened.

The rumors did not do him justice you thought as he strutted towards you and your family, your breath caught in your throat.

Oikawa Tooru was without a doubt the most beautiful man you ever laid eyes on.

He was beautiful alright.

And with his charming eyes staring straight at your own and his delicate hands placed on his sword, he looked ready to murder.

It might look like a filler episode, but I needed to give background and I love to build anticipation. Sorry not sorry? Reblogs are appreciated! And also this was not edited I posted it right after writing it so if you see any mistake let me know.

Disclaimer: No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without permission. I do not own the character of Oikawa Tooru. This is a work of fiction.

TAG LIST: Let me know if you want me to tag you.

@triskoof @sassyglassesbunny @m-a-r-i-a-s-b-l-o-g

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wutheringmights · 2 years

Note

What's your opinion on shadow readers? Readers who don't like comment or reblog? But then repost your reblogs? That kinda thing bears on my confidence, I wonder how big blogs like u handle that

Pal, I am not a big blog. There's less than 200 people here and I'm 85% certain that at least half of them are bots.

I'm not going to say that I don't wish that everyone left comments on or reblog my fics because that's untrue. If I didn't want attention or people to appreciate my writing, I wouldn't post it online.

But expecting people to comment or reblog all of the time is unrealistic. People forget or just don't have the time. That's the way it goes. So once you separate success from the amount of people interacting with you, how do you measure it?

I look for quality over quantity.

I may not have every single person in this fandom reading my shit and leaving comments, but those who do are fantastic. The comments my fic gets are diverse and brimming with enthusiasm for the characters and plot. Some comments are one sentence reactions that, while simple, tells me so much about what a person liked or didn't like about the chapter. Others are jokes at the characters' expense that crack me up every time I reread it.

Not every comment is going to be an entire literary essay. I love reading them, but not every one is capable of writing those.

Not every piece of positive feedback is going to be in the form of comments either. Some people reblog my announcement post and leave feedback in the tags, or just like the post. Others jump into my ask box with questions or jokes. Other times, there's a new follower on this blog.

Kudos and bookmarks also matter. I keep an eye on those, especially since both can be interpreted as a blank "I like it" statement not just to me, but to everyone else who might want to read the story.

Again, I'm not going to claim that I don't wish more people who read my shit would leave comments, especially since comments are invaluable for determining if your story is even good. But it's not helpful to measure your success by comments alone, especially since there will never be enough comment to make anyone happy.

So find definitions of success that don't necessarily hinge on getting comments. When less people interact with my fic, I focus on the quality of the feedback that's given to me. It's comforting seeing the same faces every update return again and again. It's exciting seeing a new one pop up as well.

A lot of this rant focuses on comments and assumes that a writer is getting feedback to begin with. Things like reblogs and attracting readers to even read your story when it's first starting out are half luck. I'm confused as to why there's as many people as there are reading CTB. Grateful? Yes. But nonetheless puzzled.

So find a definition of success that works for you. You can look for comments, or you can try for something else. I prefer quality over quantity. Find something that works best for you.

#speaking of people being funny in the comments #I'm always tempted to make a compilation post of the funniest comments left on each chapter #but I don't think I can do that without embarassing someone or accidentally shaming them #but god some of yall are freaking hilarious and I see you #me rambling #anonymous #ask #also anon i'm assuming you're using reposts interchangeably with reblogs the way twitter expats do #if someone is actually reposting your work you need to look into getting their posts taken down for copyright

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captain-josslett · 3 years

Text

Broken Melody - Part Twenty One

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty...

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 6k+

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, stuff... I’m so tried my brain can’t function.

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor

This Part: Lena has a question she wants to ask Emma.

Here you go, I hope you enjoy! My eyes are closing as I’m trying to write this. Such fun! Please forgive the exhaustion that is showing in this part.

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom,

Lena tries to concentrate as she goes through the mountain of paperwork that has built up over the past week and a bit since the attack. Frustration flows through her when the pile never seems to decrease in size.

When the CEO finds herself reading the same line over and over Lena sighs heavily and leans back in her office chair. She lifts the tip of her thumb to her mouth and bites. Her anxiety swirling and simmering under the surface. Taking another deep breath Lena looks down at her phone. She quickly grabs it, turning her chair towards the window and opens a playlist full of Emma’s voice and video messages as well as the songs she sent. Even if it was to ask her opinion on which lyrics sound better or a simple “Good Morning love.”

The raven haired beauty scrolls through the hundreds of files before coming across one of her favourites. It was also in video form which Lena doesn’t know if it's a good thing or not. To actually see Emma talk and sing instead of just hearing her girlfriend.

“Hi Lee!” Emma’s beaming face fills the screen. Her wavy blonde hair is down and she’s wearing Lena’s National City University sweatshirt she had sneakily packed into her bag and taken on the tour.

Immediately tears start to creep into Lena’s eyes when she hears Emma’s voice. Realising how much she misses her love’s laugh, the changes of tone as the blonde would talk about the different things that have happened to her during the day. The tender way Emma would softly whisper her name as she was falling asleep.

“I hope your day is going great! Well, I’m back in the studio-” Emma motions around her to the dimly lit recording studio and the microphone equipment next to her. “-and I was thinking about you, I mean, when am I not thinking about you?!” Emma chuckles and Lena can’t help but lift the corner of her mouth up in a small smile as a lone tear rolls down her cheek. “Anyway, this song came to my mind and I immediately needed to record it for you.”

Emma lifts her guitar up onto her lap and starts strumming. Her hazel green eyes connect with the camera, as if she’s looking straight at Lena.

You with the sad eyes Don't be discouraged, oh I realise It's hard to take courage In a world full of people You can lose sight of it all The darkness inside you Can make you feel so small

Like the previous times before Lena is completely floored when she watches Emma sing. The way in which the words touch Lena and making her heart melt and ache all at once. How even though her girlfriend is singing to a camera she somehow connects with Lena.

But I see your true colours Shining through I see your true colours And that's why I love you So don't be afraid to let them show Your true colours True colours True colours are beautiful Like a rainbow

“Wow.”

Lena jumps and quickly locks her phone, halting the video and Emma’s voice. The CEO spins around to see an apologetic Sam standing behind her desk.

“Sorry!” Sam holds her hands up and Lena wipes her face. Trying to hide the emotions that had surfaced.

“It’s okay.” Lena tries to tidy her desk a bit before focusing back on her friend. “Everything okay?”

“Yea, it’s gone six.”

Lena’s eyes widen as she glances down at the clock on her desk.

‘Shit.’ The raven haired beauty thinks in dismay and presses her lips together until they disappear.

“You alright?” Sam asks with a frown.

“I didn’t get enough done today.” Lena uncharacteristically slumps forward and holds her head in her hands.

“Hey-” Sam quickly comes around and sits on the desk, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You are ahead of what you need to do, but if things get too much we can always hire more assistants. You aren’t in this alone.”

Lena swallows heavily and nods. Sam may say she’s ahead but the raven haired beauties expectations are set too high from years of trying to please her family.

“So, how about we pick up some food and go see that gorgeous girlfriend of yours?”

Sam’s comment makes Lena gradually sit up and glare at the brunette.

“Hands off Arias.” Lena growls and Sam throws her head back laughing.

“Wrong Danvers my dear.” Sam gently pats Lena’s cheek before getting up and grabbing her stuff.

Lena smiles and shakes her head. Quickly wiping the tears from her face before shutting everything down on her desk. She takes one more look at the piles of work.

Before Kara Danvers had come into her life she would have stayed until the early hours of the morning to complete her tasks. Sometimes not even leaving the office at all. But with Kara everything changed. Her obsessive, workaholic routines had been disrupted with lunches, coffee meet ups, movie and games nights. Lena found herself developing more and more friendships and she liked it.

Then when Emma Danvers swung into Lena’s life… Well there was no hope of Lena ever working late into the night again.

Because no matter where Emma was she would ask when the best time was for her to call Lena and for some strange reason Lena had given her a time that cut her working hours a lot shorter. This also meant that Lena wasn’t elbow deep in work that would distract her from spending time with her crush. Over time this became her new normal and even when Emma couldn’t chat due to the time difference (and Lena refused to allow Emma to sacrifice her sleep for her) Lena would find herself finishing work at a reasonable hour.

Finally Lena turns away from the work and stands, rolling her chair under the desk and smoothing out her grey dress.

The pair walk out of LCorp in comfortable silence towards Sam’s car, nodding at employees as they went.

As Lena settles into the passenger seat she notices her brunette friend overly tapping the steering wheel.

“Sam? Is there something wrong?”

“Erm, could we- I mean, if it’s okay. Could we listen to Emma sing?”

Lena hesitates for a moment. Wanting to keep the songs her girlfriend has sent her private and only for herself.

But the raven haired beauty reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone. Connecting it to Sam’s car and choosing a song for the pair to listen to.

The car is filled with the gentle sound of a piano and soon Emma starts singing.

It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside I'm not one of those who can easily hide I don't have much money, but boy if I did I'd buy a big house where we both could live

The corner of Lena’s lips pull up slightly as she listens to her girlfriend. Images flash through her mind of a house the pair would buy and make a home. Where everything that has happened over the past few weeks would be a distance memory. They would both be happy, healthy and even more in love.

So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do See I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue Anyway the thing is what I really mean Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

Lena can’t help but feel a slight blush build up in her cheeks. Remembering the way Emma would stare into her eyes as they lay on the bed, saying she was taking in every detail of colour and noticing the flecks of blue in them.

Lena also notices how Sam glances over at her every so often and chooses to ignore her friend. Instead turning her head to gaze out of the window and keeps listening to her girlfriend’s declaration of love.

And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple, but now that it's done I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words How wonderful life is now you're in the world

The raven haired beauty rests her head against the side of the car door. She takes a big intake of breath and lets it out gradually.

“Lena?” She hears Sam ask softly.

“Yea?”

“You okay?”

Lena pauses as she chooses her answer. Knowing if she lies Sam will pick up on it.

“No, but I will be.” Lena slowly lifts her head up and gives Sam a small smile. The song ends and Lena chooses another more upbeat one that has Sam tapping along on the steering wheel.

An idea starts forming and Lena bites the inside of her lip. “So, did Lucy mention where Emma will be staying after she leaves the DEO?”

“No. I know she’s going to talk to Emma about it soon. Why?”

“Do- do you think Emma would move in with me?” Lena asks quietly, purposefully not looking at Sam as she says it.

“Most definitely!” Sam makes Lena jump with her loud, enthusiastic response. “I mean, she’s totally in love with you and it’s not like your relationship is brand new.” Sam beams at her friend. “Also you guys totally failed in the lesbian stereotype! You should have moved in together on the second date right?”

Lena chuckles and shakes her head. Secretly she would have loved to have moved in with Emma straight away, they were practically living at each other’s apartments anyway, even before their relationship developed further.

“Okay, I’m going to ask her. Today.” Lena says mostly to herself and nods slowly.

“Yes!” Sam can’t help but smile brightly at her friend and a surge of happiness fills the brunette. Finally some good news among the chaos of the past few weeks.

The raven haired beauty turns to smile nervously at Sam. “She has to say yes first.”

Sam scoffs. “Are you kidding me right now? Really?” Sam can’t help but raise her eyebrows. “Lee if you asked Emma to marry you, right now, I have no doubt in my mind she would.”

At that Lena’s smile lights up her whole face as she imagines Emma in a bridal gown. Walking towards her with a radiant smile on her face.

‘Lena Danvers.’ The raven haired beauty tests the name in her mind and settles back into her seat. Going over what the venue would look like, whether Emma would want a big wedding or something more intimate.

But soon the brunette starts feeling frustrated as the car crawls along the road. “Urgh this traffic!”

“Must be some roadworks happening.”

“Yea, or there's a gathering outside Em’s apartment again.”

“Oh?”

“Yea, more and more fans have been showing up to pay their respects and show their support.” Sam says casually as she places her elbow on the car window and rests her head against her hand. “She’s gained an even bigger following than before. Lucy’s been working non stop to try and contain the true story. Apparently she’s gonna ask Emma to stage some photos and create a timeline.” Sam quickly glances over at her friend as she provides the information Lucy had discussed with her. A deep frown is etched on Lena's face and her mouth opens to speak, but Sam stops her before she can ask any questions. “Best to talk to Lucy about it.”

Lena nods and turns back to stare out of the window. Her mind races with what Lucy could have planned. Guessing that Emma would need to be kept out of the public eye for a while due to the injuries she had received.

‘Well she shouldn’t be breathing at all.’ Lena’s mind whispers and she immediately feels sick. But the feeling soon fades as she focuses on Emma’s voice.

The car slowly makes progress down the street when it comes to a halt outside a florist.

“Do you think this traffic will clear in the next few minutes?” Lena asks quickly.

“No, doesn’t look like it.” Sam whines frustratedly, slamming her head back on the head rest.

“I’m getting some flowers.” Suddenly Lena grabs her phone, unbuckles and jumps out of the car before Sam can react or say anything.

Lena ignores the looks people give her as she strides confidently across the road towards the small florist. She marvels at the colours of the flowers and heads inside.

“Welcome! Welcome!” A kind elderly couple greet her behind the counter.

“How may I help you today dear?” The gentleman asks her. Lena immediately notices recognition in his eyes but he doesn’t say anything more. Which she is grateful for.

“I would like to purchase a bouquet for my girlfriend please.”

“Ah! Any special occasion?” The elderly woman asks kindly as she starts gathering some flowers to show the CEO.

“Er- no, not particularly. She’s in hospital at the moment and I wanted to cheer her up, show her my love?” Lena cringes slightly at how she doesn’t know what to say. Not wanting to give away Emma’s state.

“Ah of course. Well our prices range differently, depending on what you choose. But, as it’s you and these are for our favourite customer, we are going to give them to you for free.” The elderly gentleman smiles kindly at her.

Lena blinks a few times and her eyebrows rise.

“Thank you sir, but I insist on paying.”

“Nonsense! Emma has been a valuable customer over the years and we were both utterly devastated by the horrific attack that befalled her.”

“Truly tragic.” His wife nods along before staring Lena in the eyes. “But is she getting better?”

“Slowly but surely.” Lena tries to reassure them.

“Good, that’s good.” The elderly gentleman nods. “Now my dear, as I am sure you are aware flowers have different meanings. What would you like the bouquet to represent.”

Lena thinks for a moment. “My love for her.” She simply says.

The couple smile at her. “Right!” The lady claps her hands and starts gathering flowers together, quickly explaining what each one means and for Lena’s approval.

Lena reaches into her bag for her card, still wanting to pay for the beautiful bouquet.

“No.” The gentleman holds out a hand and smiles at Lena’s confused expression. “Please, it is the least we can do for her.”

Lena nods but sneakily reaches into her purse and places a few hundred bills in a tip jar on the counter.

“I know she isn’t with it properly but when she can if you could give Emma our love we’d really appreciate it.” The lady says kindly as she hands Lena the beautiful bouquet of flowers. “Who knows maybe the colours will help revive her.”

“I hope so and I definitely will.” Lena cradles the flowers carefully, gazing at the roses, tulips, baby breath and daisies. Hoping she can remember all the different meanings to tell her girlfriend. “Thank you again.” Lena smiles at the couple and leaves the shop. Waving at them as she opens the door and steps out into the street.

The raven haired beauty glances around for Sam’s car and sees it near the end of the street. Lena quickly makes her way down the pavement and through the traffic to get back to the car. Sam unlocks the doors and Lena gracefully slides in.

“Wow, they look lovely.” Sam stares at the bouquet.

“They do don’t they?” Lena smiles and smells the flowers.

“Can you play more of Emma’s songs please?”

“Sure.” Lena quickly links her phone back to Sam’s car and chooses a new song for them to listen to.

The pair stay in comfortable silence as they listen to Emma’s music and crawl through the busy streets of the city.

-- -- --

Finally they make it to the DEO after picking up some food for everyone. Thank goodness Lena thought to order while they were stuck in traffic. Especially as they got food for Kara too. The waiter had given Lena a questioning look when they handed the box over to her. Lena responded by tilting her head slightly and giving one of her cold CEO stares. Only when she placed the box in the boot of Sam’s car did she realise she could have just smiled at them. Sometimes old habits are hard to break.

“Here let me take the food and you hold the flowers.” Sam quickly takes a hold of the box and Lena closes the trunk. The pair quickly make their way inside.

“Good evening.” Agent Vasquez nods at them in greeting.

“Evening Agent.” Sam smiles at her. “Oh could you do me a favour?”

“Depending what it is ma’am.” Agent Vasquez places her hands behind her back, standing at ease.

Sam places the box on the floor and takes out a few bags of food. Leaving most still left in the box. “Could you please give this food to our friends in the main cell downstairs?”

Agent Vasquez tilts her head forward and squats down to pick the box up. “Of course ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Lena responds with a small smile and heads towards the elevator. The pair first go to the labs and Sam hands over Eliza, J’onn, Winn, Brainy and Nia’s order.

Soon the pair make it to Emma’s floor and the anticipation builds within Lena at the thought of seeing her girlfriend. She knocks on the door and softly opens it, knowing Emma can’t call out to give them permission to enter.

“Hi!” Lucy greets the pair as they enter and Sam responds but the raven haired beauty focuses on her girlfriend. A smile spreads across her face seeing how engrossed Emma is in her painting. Noticing the cute way she sticks the tip of her tongue out.

Lena places the flowers on the coffee table and slowly approaches the blonde beauty. The noise of her heels filling the room. But still Emma doesn’t look up. Lena gazes down at what Emma is painting. She takes a quick intake of breath at what she sees. Amazed by the detail within it.

It seems to be from Emma’s point of view, showing Alex and Kara sitting on Emma’s bed. The pair are laughing and smiling brightly up at her with their hands joined together with Emma’s. Tears are within both of their eyes and Lena can tell the sisters were sharing a special moment together.

Lena resists the urge to kiss Emma’s head and instead heads back to the sofa.

“She’s been doing that for hours.” Lucy follows Lena over to the sofas and sniffs the air, smelling the food within the bags. Her stomach loudly rumbles making the trio laugh.

They look over at the blonde whose tongue is still poking out as she paints.

“Nothing can break her focus.” Lucy laughs and sits next to Sam.

“Oh no, I’m sure there's something or, someone, that could.” Sam raises an eyebrow at Lena and a slight blush colours her cheeks, remembering how Sam had found the lovers in the morning.

“How has she been?” Lena asks as she pulls out her meal and starts eating.

“Alright, I guess.” Lucy glances sadly over at her friend.

A hint of a frown appears on Lena’s forehead. “Sam mentioned you have a plan to move forward?”

Lucy nods and dives into detail of the plans she had told Emma earlier in the day. About creating video and images to release to the media at specific times in the upcoming months. How Emma will have to stay out of the public eye.

“I was also thinking…” Lena pauses and quickly glances over at Emma, who was still completely submerged in her task. Lena turns back to Lucy who studies her closely. The CEO leans in and Lucy copies her. “About asking Emma to move in with me.” The raven haired beauty says quietly. Not wanting her girlfriend to overhear.

A wide smile breaks across Lucy’s face and she nods. “I think that will work perfectly. I noticed how worried Emma got when I mentioned she could leave here soon.”

Lena lets out a breath, relieved that Lucy agrees.

The brunette keeps smiling at the news, hoping this will help Emma’s recovery. “Oh and Winn mentioned about developing a face modifier which Emma will have to wear when she’s out in public. He’s going to discuss it with you and see what can be done.”

Immediately Lena’s eyes light up with interest and Sam smiles at her expression of wonder. Almost expecting Lena to jump up and stride from the room to find Winn in the lab.

But the trio continue chatting and eating until they hear Emma place her brush into the cup of water. Lena looks over at the blonde and beams when their eyes connect.

Lena places her empty food container on the coffee table and picks up the bouquet of flowers. She hides them behind her back when she stands and approaches her girlfriend, her nerves prickle near the surface.

‘What if Emma says no? What if she doesn’t love me?’

Pushing her thoughts away Lena sits on the bed next to Emma and presents the flowers to the blonde. She smiles at how wide Emma’s eyes go, how she instantly reaches out to feel the softness of the rose and studies the detail of the flowers.

Instead of asking Emma then and there Lena chickens out and starts reciting the different meanings of the flowers. Only getting distracted for a moment as Emma keeps lovingly kissing her cheek, but Lena stops the blonde, determined to tell her girlfriend the meaning of every flower. Totally not because she was scared to ask her question… Nope.

‘Luthors don’t get scared.’ Lena will always try and reassure herself in times like this.

But finally the pair kiss, only to be interrupted by Lucy pretending to heave.

Lena laughs when Emma flips the other brunette off and focuses back on the blonde. Her green eyes study her love’s face.

“So, how’s your head?” Lena asks as she runs her fingers gently through Emma’s hair and watches the blonde lift her hands to sign.

“I’ve had no complaints.”

Immediately Lena lifts her head back and laughs loudly causing the others in the room to question her. The raven haired beauty repeats the joke and the other pair laugh along.

Lena feels Emma snuggle into her side and the raven haired beauty wraps an arm around her.

“We’ve brought you some food love.” Lena says gently and kisses the top of Emma’s head. “Are you hungry?”

She feels Emma nod and goes to get up to get the container but Emma becomes a koala bear and holds on to her with a vice-like grip.

“Ow, Em, not so tight!” Lena laughs out but Emma instantly lets go, trying to move away from the CEO. But she can’t due to Lena’s own hold on her. “Hey, it’s okay. I know you just love me so much.” The raven haired beauty smiles reassuringly and gently boops Emma’s nose. Making the blonde adorably scrunch her face up.

“Here you go Em.” Sam places Emma’s food on the tray table. Emma gives her a look of gratitude. “Shall I move the picture so you don’t get anything on it?”

Emma nods as she opens the lid and shoves a huge cunk into her mouth. Hesitantly wrapping an arm around her girlfriend, making sure she doesn’t squeeze her too hard this time.

Sam clears the table of the painting supplies and her eyes widen as she stares at the painting while placing it on top of a chest of drawers.

“Wow Em. This is so good.”

“Let me see!” Lucy rushes over and gapes at it. “Awww I love it!”

Emma buries her head into Lena’s shoulder, feeling embarrassed from the praise. The raven haired beauty grins and kisses Emma’s head.

A knock makes the women look over at the door and Emma peeking slightly over Lena’s shoulder to see who it is.

The door opens and J’onn enters with Eliza following behind him. “Lucy, we are ready to go down to the cells.”

Emma sits up at J’onn’s words and stares at Lucy, desperately wanting to go with her. She turns to her girlfriend and signs.

“What’s going on?”

Lena repeats the question and Lucy approaches Emma’s bed, knowing she needs to be completely honest with the blonde.

“We aren’t making any progress with who took your sisters. Whoever they are they covered their tracks well.” Lucy rubs her shoulder as she looks apologetically at the pair on the bed. “We have the go ahead from your sister's therapists that we can ask them more questions. Especially as the R.K levels are almost depleted.”

Emma sits up even straighter at this new piece of information, looking more alert then before and grabbing Lena’s hand, who squeezes it three times.

“Can I come with you?” Sam asks confidently, ready for the looks of confusion the superfriends give her. “Well, with my time as Reign, I understand what it’s like having blackouts and waking up realising something, that is out of your control, has happened.”

J’onn and Lucy share a look and the brunette nods. “Very well.” J’onn agrees and gets ready to head down to the cells.

Emma fidgets and Lucy’s eyes are drawn to her. She wants to cry at the hope etched onto Emma’s face.

“I will ask them if they are ready to see you. But please prepare yourself that they still may not be ready.” Lucy begs as if reading Emma's mind. The blonde slowly nods and her shoulder sag.

“It will be okay sweetheart.” Eliza tries to reassure her baby girl. “They are making progress, these things just take time.”

Emma nods and motions to the painting. “Can someone give this to them? Would that be okay?” Lena speaks out what Emma signs and Sam carefully picks up the painting.

The blonde smiles at her, placing her hand to her lips, moving it forward and down, thanking Sam. Almost like she’s blowing Sam a kiss.

“You’re welcome Emma.” Sam returns the smile and heads towards the door.

Emma shifts so she can look at her girlfriend. “Will you go see them?”

Lena blinks in surprise at Emma’s request. “Are you sure?”

Emma nods. “Kara needs her best friend. Plus mom can keep me company.”

Lena stares into fading bloodshot eyes for a moment. “Alright. Can I have a kiss?” The raven haired beauty smiles shyly at her girlfriend and Emma tilts her head forward, connecting their lips.

“You guys are just too much.” Lucy mutters and Sam pushes her shoulder while shaking her head at the other brunette.

The pair were adorably, but also sickeningly cute.

Lena regretfully moves away from Emma and gracefully slides off the bed. But she can’t move away as the blonde as she won’t let go of her hand.

Lena turns to her girlfriend and smiles sweetly at her, also raising an eyebrow. “Em-ma.”

Slowly Emma lets go of Lena's hand and the raven haired beauty follows the others out of the room. She turns back at the doorway. Emma lifts her hand and does a sad little wave which Lena copies.

“Come on lovebird.” Sam gently grabs Lena’s arm and pulls her away from the door. When they near the elevator Sam wraps an arm around her friend and leans into her ear. “Chicken.” The brunette whispers and laughs at the look of outrage on Lena’s face.

“Hey! I-er-it just-I-” Lena stops and huffs as the superfriends turn to look at her in shock. Rarely, if ever, hearing the badass CEO stutter. The elevator doors open and the group step inside and wait while the elevator descends.

Lucy massages her shoulders and huffs, catching Winn’s attention.

“Lucy? You okay?” Winn asks in concern.

“No, my back and shoulders are killing me.” Lucy moans while flexing and stretching her back, trying to relieve the pain there.

“What did you do?” Sam asks with a frown.

“Nothing.” Lucy says bewildered but pauses as she thinks through her day. “Well, I did jump onto Emma to stop her going down to the cells. Maybe I just pulled something.”

Sam's face morphs into one of deep thought as she contemplates Lucy’s words. Her eyes find Lena’s who tilts her head as she tries to figure out what Sam is thinking.

The doors open and the superfriends make their way to the cell holding Alex and Kara.

Lena can’t help but feel apprehensive and a bit guilty at the sight of Kara and Alex. She hasn’t properly spoken to the sisters since their imprisonment. Her main focus has solely been on Emma.

She hangs back as the others enter the room and make their way over to the cell. Nia and Brainy are already in front of the sisters as Brainy works through his data and Nia is sitting on the floor having had her meal with Kara and Alex.

“Guys!” Kara jumps to her feet and smiles brightly at the group. “It’s so good to see you all!” Her eyes meet each of the superfriends and widen for a moment when they connect with her best friend.

“Any news?” Alex says standing next to her sister and places her hands on her hips. Immediately morphing into Director Danvers.

“Still no leads.” J’onn says quietly and Alex clenches her jaw while Kara crosses her arms.

“We’ve swept the area and any samples we take comes up with nothing.” Winn holds up his tablet to the sisters to show them his data.

Lena can’t imagine how the pair must be feeling. Obviously as frustrated, if not more, then Lena, to know their attackers are walking free out in the world which makes Lena’s blood boil.

“Do you remember anything new?” Lucy asks and Brainy pulls up some photos of other locations. “Or do these pictures mean anything?”

Brainy holds out his tablet to show the pair. They study them intently.

“No.” Alex huffs heavily and Kara shakes her head, avoiding everyone's eyes as she wills herself to remember anything that would help. “It’s still too fuzzy.”

“One minute we were with Emma and I flew off with Alex and then next we are on the way to her apartment to-” Kara motions her hand, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“I just remember darkness and feeling cold, pain. The sound of running water and a hum.” Alex says hauntingly.

“I know how overwhelming all this can be.” Sam draws the sisters attention to her. She fiddles with the edge of Emma’s painting. Wanting desperately to say the right words. “When I would wake up after Reign took over, it was the most terrifying feeling. To have these fuzzy memories but not being able to focus on them. I just wanted you both to know you aren’t alone in this.” Sam says passionately and Kara takes it in, nodding her thanks and taking a deep breath.

Alex continues looking over the data, trying to make her brain remember something useful. Anything.

“Yes, we will figure this out. Don’t lose hope.” J’onn looks between them.

The sisters nod.

“How-” Kara pauses, biting her lip. “How is she? Emma.”

“She’s desperate to see you both.” Lena says softly, making the sisters tense simultaneously.

“Yea, I had to jump on her back to stop her coming down here earlier.” Lucy jokes lightly but subconsciously rubs her shoulder and Alex frowns at the brunette.

“She painted something for you.” Sam quickly interrupts when she sees the redhead opening her mouth to ask a question. Sam holds the painting in front of her and turns it so the sisters can see.

Immediately both their eyes mist over and Kara’s lips disappear as she tries to stop herself from crying out and Alex digs her nails into her palms.

“She knows you both aren’t ready to see her.” Lena says gently, seeing their distress. “But Emma wanted you to know how much she loves you. That nothing can or will ever change that.”

Alex shakes her head at Lena’s words. ‘How can Emma be so forgiving?’

“Because you are her sisters.” J’onn responds. He didn’t mean to hear Alex’s thoughts, at the moment they are just so loud, as if she is screaming them at him.

“We’ll think about it.” Kara says and looks at her sister who does a slight nod in agreement. Despite the many hours together they haven’t spoken about the attack. Instead they are pushing their pain away and hiding it, pretending it doesn’t exist.

“That’s all we ask.” J’onn reassures them.

“What’s the news on her voice?” Alex says while crossing her arms and Lucy steps closer to the sisters.

“Well, I had a chat with Doctor Sloan and he feels ready to operate soon. Maybe in the next month or so.” She says while looking at both Kara and Alex. Lena squints her eyes slightly at the news, trying to remember if Emma had communicated this with her.

“That’s good, right?” Kara asks desperately and lowers her arms.

“It is.” Lucy smiles. But she is holding back key information that there is a chance that the surgery won’t be successful the first time. Feeling that it could dash the little hope the sisters are holding onto. Even Alex looks a bit lighter from the news.

“Please tell Emma we love her too.” Alex responds softly and focuses on Lena. “Give her a hug from me.”

“And me.” Kara adds quickly, smiling cautiously at her best friend.

“Of course!” Lena nods while taking a nervous step closer as she fiddles with her hands. “I actually wanted your opinion on something.”

-- -- --

Emma quietly strums her guitar while her mom reads in the chair next to her. The blonde pauses to write down the notes and chords, finding it slightly frustrating she can’t sing them out. But she continues on and tries to match the pitch with what she is singing in her head.

The door opening makes Emma whip her head around. She smiles at Lena as she closes it behind her and comes over to her. Emma shuffles across the bed, allowing Lena to sit next to her and the blonde carefully places her guitar on the stand by the bed.

“Hi love.” Lena kisses Emma’s lips as her girlfriend turns back around. The raven haired beauty smiles at Eliza, who watches them over her book. “J’onn is asking if you can meet him in the lab?”

“Thank you Lena.” Eliza closes her book, stands and kisses Emma’s forehead and surprises Lena when she does the same to her.

Emma smiles at her shocked girlfriend and gently strokes her cheek. Waiting for her mom to leave the room before kissing Lena again. Before things get heated Emma pulls back and signs. “How are they?”

“Well, they send their love and promise to think about seeing you soon.” Lena watches as Emma’s eyes grow sad. “I’m sorry.”

Emma nods, lowering her head and runs her thumb over Lena’s hand.

The raven haired beauty goes to open her mouth but finds the words she wants to say get stuck in her throat. Emma immediately notices and looks up at her girlfriend. Tilting her head questioningly.

“I- erm…” Lena lets out a small laugh. “This is ridiculous. The famous Lena Luthor stumbling on her words.”

Emma smiles slightly and squeezes Lena’s hand three times.

“I love you too.” Lena leans in and presses her forehead against Emma’s. She takes a deep breath and pulls away again so she can see her girlfriend properly.

“So, I’ve been thinking and I was wondering, when you are discharged…”

Lena fidgets and momentarily looks away.

“That… Whether you would like to, I mean you can say no, no pressure, but if you would like to come and…”

Emma squeezes her girlfriend’s hand, making Lena lift her eyes and gaze at her.

“Live with me?” Lena’s voice goes higher in pitch as she asks the question. Her nerves and Irish twang coming through.

Emma’s mouth drops open and her eyes fill with tears before smiling so brightly Lena thinks it outshines the sun.

“Is that a yes?” Lena asks tenderly.

Emma responds by vigorously nodding before leaping onto Lena’s lap and kissing her. Making Lena smile happily into the kiss as she wraps her arms around her girlfriend.

(Part Twenty Two)

#supergirl #supergirl fanfic #lena luthor x baby danvers #lena luthor imagine #alex danvers x baby danvers #alex danvers imagine #kara danvers imagine #kara danvers x baby danvers #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl tv #supergirl imagine #supergirl baby danvers #b!d #baby danvers

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coffeestainsandcashmere · 3 years

Text

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione), Part Three

Wow! Thank you so much for your feedback and apparent enthusiasm for the previous parts, and for your excitement to see more in the future! I never imagined it’d get any traction, but I’m staggered and touched to see that people are enjoying it!

Here’s part three for you, as promised. I had written twice as much as this (around 7k in total) for part three, but I split it up into two. Part Four will go up tomorrow after I’ve given it another once-over. It’s tooth-rottingly adorable really. There’s pizza involved. And a little delving into the past.

Content warnings for part three: unexpected run-in with Ron, passing mention of past alcohol abuse (Ron), and general prejudices against Slytherins. Again, this isn’t supposed to be a Ron-bashing story, but relationships do break down when fundamental beliefs don’t align. If I seem harsh on Ron, I don’t really mean to be. Hermione also isn’t perfect or unbiased, but she has perhaps slightly more reason to be upset with him than he does with her. It will all be explained in a later part, I promise, but it has been hinted at already in the previous two parts.

Part One | Part Two

___

Friday found her lingering awkwardly in the Ministry’s echoing Atrium, waiting for Theo to come out of his last meeting of the day, up on level five. The problem with being the former Minister for Magic - and one so famously young - was that quite literally everyone knew who she was. So far, in the ten minutes she’d been standing there, a seemingly ceaseless line of twittering assistants and employees had come cringing up to her to ask if she needed anything.

She’d just sent the latest one packing with a tight-lipped ‘no, thank you. I’m just waiting for a friend,’ when someone cleared their throat behind her, and a familiar voice made her heart clench and her breath come short for half a moment.

“’Mione? What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Ron,” she sighed, even before she turned to face him.

In the decade or so since their divorce, he’d actually done pretty well for himself. Gone was the lingering paunch that had crept in towards the tail end of his quidditch career, and now he looked… well, quite frankly, he looked really good. He reminded her of Charlie Weasley a little, with floppy, roguish hair and a surprisingly lean figure once more. Becoming the coach of an internationally-recognised quidditch team suited him, clearly. That, and a happier, second marriage with Lavender, she supposed.

“How are you?” she asked, trying not to sound too stiff and failing abysmally.

“Good,” he said, rocking back on his heels for a moment with his hands shoved into his pockets. “What, uh, what brings you here then? Miss the place too much?” he asked with a little snort of laughter.

“Hardly, Ron,” she said with perhaps a little too much feeling. “No, I’m waiting for Theo.”

At the mention of Theo’s name, Ron’s eyes darkened. “Why?” he blurted.

“Why? Because he’s my friend, Ronald,” she said. “And what are you doing here? Come to blag your way out of another ‘drunk and disorderly in possession of a broomstick’, hmm?”

She knew even as she said it that her snide comment was uncalled for, and that she was being disproportionately petty, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Something about his lingering, bone-deep resentment of the people with whom she chose to associate these days just brought out the worst in her even now. She wasn’t proud of it. In her defence though, how many times had he tried to use the whole ‘The Minister for Magic is my wife’ ploy to get out of scrapes like that in the past?

Ron’s freckled face flushed at that. “I’m clean and sober now, Hermione,” he said. “Have been for the past five years, which you’d know if you ever came to any of Harry’s dinners. We used to be the ‘Golden Trio’ for fuck’s sake…”

Very quietly, and with what she thought was a remarkable degree of renewed self-control, Hermione said, “Excuse me for not wanting to intrude on your happy family, Ron. I am pleased to hear that though. That’s no small achievement. Congratulations.”

“But you’d still rather go scuttling off with the Slytherins instead of having dinner with me and Harry?” he said, eyes flashing.

There it was. There was the comment — the little dig at her choices — that she’d been waiting for ever since she’d mentioned Theo’s name.

“I hear that you and that lot are pretty tight now. Even dragged Neville into it.”

Her already-simmering outrage crept a degree or two hotter beneath the surface, and Hermione blinked rapidly. “‘Dragged’ Neville? Is that what you call his perfectly healthy and happy relationship with Pansy?”

“He wouldn’t have had anything to do with her if it wasn’t for you and Nott meddling. He’d have settled down with Hannah instead of leaving her for some Slytherin trust-fund bitch. You know she’s still heartbroken about it?”

Her eyebrows rose. That wasn’t how it had happened at all, though she knew Hannah was still upset, and she’d just opened her mouth to say so when she felt the prickle of other people’s eyes on them.

“I’m not discussing this, Ron, and I’m certainly not starting something here in the Ministry Atrium, for God’s sake,” she said, turning away. Her ears were starting to ring as her magic crackled inside her and she took a long, steadying inhale to try and calm down. People were indeed starting to stare, and she thought she glimpsed Gabriella Guile lurking near the sandwich shop with one of Rita Skeeter’s bloody ‘Quick-Quotes Quills’ hovering at the ready. “Please, Ron.”

He stepped in close and snarled, “Well, at least some of us still remember where our loyalties lie.”

Hermione saw red at that and spun back round to face him, eyes flashing and hair expanding like a Devil’s Snare. “Loyalty?” she spat. “You — you of all people — want to lecture me about loyalty?!”

Clearly he hadn’t followed that thought through to its conclusion before opening his mouth. He turned beetroot red and took half a step back, hands up defensively. “Look, Mione, I’m sorry. I didn’t come over to start another fight. It’s not like I expected to see you here - you don’t even work here anymore, and it’s not like we hang out or anything. How was I to know?” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m meeting Harry when he gets off work and we’re going for a drink at the Leaky. Let’s... Lets just forget it, ok?”

A hand landing gently but firmly between her shoulders made her jump and she whipped round to find Theo standing behind her, looming over her from his six-foot-something height. “Alright, love?” he asked in a steady baritone without taking his eyes off Ron.

“Ready to go,” she said tartly. “Say hi to Harry for me, Ron.”

And with that, they left the Ministry by floo for Theo’s.

As she stepped out of the swirling green flames of the fancy, Mayfair town-house’s marble fireplace only a moment or so behind him, she found Daniel rising from the sofa to greet Theo with a kiss, and once Theo had moved off through the house to hang up his cloak, he opened his arms to hug her warmly.

Dan, always a pleasure,” she said. “How are you?”

The unexpected meeting with Ron left her oddly rattled. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him at all in the decade since the divorce - his little sister was her own best friend, and she’d met Bill Weasley on more than one occasion during her time at the Ministry, but still, to see him doing so well for himself and to see him so happy should have made her pleased. After all the years of shared friendship that she genuinely cherished, she should have been happy for him.

Instead it galled and made her uncharacteristically bitter to know that he had everything he wanted now and he still couldn’t resist trying to rubbish the few things she had left of value in her life. Theo and Daniel were among her closest friends, and to her surprise, the rest of the Slytherins had adopted her into their little group without question.

“Let’s start a bit early, shall we?” Theo chimed as he re-entered the living room with three champagne flutes and a bottle of something French and no doubt eye-wateringly expensive floating in front of him. Since that left his hands free, he began undoing his cuff links as he walked. “The others should be here soon enough anyway, and I just closed a deal with the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France that I’ve been trying to hash out all year. Yay me.”

His flawless French accent made Hermione smile. Everything just seemed so easy and natural to Theo; it might have enviable if he weren’t such an affable sweetheart to go with it.

“Yay you,” Daniel chuckled, eyes glittering with affection as Theo handed Hermione a very full glass. “To my brilliant husband.”

Two hours later, amid the happy murmur of conversation that now filled the gorgeous, airy ground floor, Hermione looked up as the floo whooshed and Draco Malfoy stepped out. She’d begun to think he wasn’t going to show, and when she caught sight of him, a weight unexpectedly lifted from her chest. Something, at least, was going right today.

He had a heavy, black cloak around his shoulders and a bundle of brown paper parcels under one arm, printed with the logos of various Diagon Alley shops, though it was well past most of their closing times. She wondered where he’d been in the meantime, but didn’t want to pry.

Whether out of surprise or curiosity, the chatter in the living room sputtered out a little at his arrival before Pansy rose to her feet and flung her arms around his neck. “Draco, darling!” she laughed as she air-kissed his winter-pink cheeks and hissed melodramatically in his ear — loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear —, “I’m so glad you came; Blaise owes me ten galleons. He said you wouldn’t come.”

Draco twitched his lips fondly into something that was almost a smirk and unclasped his cloak as she stepped away from him. He folded it up neatly atop the parcels beside the now-still fireplace and shot her a look. “Glad to know how much my company is worth these days, Pans,” he drawled.

As he straightened, Hermione actually sank her teeth into her lower lip at the way his bespoke charcoal grey suit fitted him, accentuating his long, lean figure, with narrow hips and broad shoulders. He looked every bit the successful businessman while she was slouching around in the jeans and mauve hoodie she’d thrown on in the back room after closing the bookshop for the day. No wonder Pansy had given her an affectionately pitying grimace when she’d greeted her earlier.

Theo rose gracefully from his seat beside her on the sofa to join Draco and Pansy by the hearth, and he hugged Draco fondly, murmuring something in his ear. The two were almost a match in height, though where Theo’s hair was a warm, copper-streaked, chocolate brown and his skin a tanned, freckled olive, Draco’s hair and skin were almost as colourless as the marble fireplace behind him.

When Draco drew back this time, he spotted Hermione over Theo’s shoulder. He offered her a slow incline of his head, and allowed a clinking tumbler of whisky and ice to be pressed into his hand by Theo.

Hermione wasn’t really sure quite what she’d been expecting from Draco when she’d invited him to join Theo’s usual Friday night drinks. Whatever it had been though, it wasn’t the thoughtful, considerate conversationalist she now found engaging Neville in detailed discussion about the disadvantages of farming dittany commercially. For some reason, Draco’s icy exterior and apparently reclusive behaviour had made her think he might be socially awkward, but apparently one can’t train the upper-class manners out of someone once it’s been bred into their bloodline for umpteen generations, even after a dusty decade of disuse. Further to her surprise, he actually seemed genuinely interested in what Neville had to say about the difference in potency between rare, wild-harvested dittany and the farmed stuff.

Meanwhile, she just sat on the sofa with Neville on her left and Theo on her right, and only half-listened to the talk around her, not participating at all.

Despite everyone’s obvious enjoyment of the gathering, Hermione found herself unable to muster any of her usual social enthusiasm, and remained in pretty subdued silence. After a while, Neville politely excused himself to find Pansy, with an earnest promise to follow up on something or other for Malfoy, and his seat was not reoccupied.

In the lull, Malfoy took the opportunity to lean across the space from his armchair to the sofa and murmur, “Everything alright, Granger?”

From beside her, Theo looked round and slung his arm causally over her shoulders and squeezed. “Hermione had a small run in with her ex-husband in the middle of the Ministry Atrium.”

Draco’s eyes flashed and his lip curled minutely.

“Nothing dramatic, but the prick had the nerve to insinuate that Slytherins make for poor company. Luckily, dear Hermione reminded him that we’re not all still twelve years old...”

She managed a smile at that. “Don’t let me rain on your party, Theo, but I think... I think I will head home now.”

“Feel free to floo,” he breezed, waving the hand that had been around her shoulders with a flash of the gold signet ring on his little finger, “But obviously I’d much rather you stay and drink yourself into a giggling stupor again... It’s been far too long since that happened.”

“You drink yourself into a giggling stupor every Friday, Theo. I’m sure you can manage to do it again on my behalf tonight. I’d love to stay, but it’s all getting a bit... loud now anyway...” she said vaguely. “I think I’ll walk home.”

Theo just nodded and gave her an affectionate little wink that would have looked corny on anyone half as charming. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart. Say hello to whatever your book-du-jour is for me. Will it be Emily or Charlotte this time?”

Draco frowned in confusion and she laughed a little. “Charlotte.”

Still cleanly nonplussed, Malfoy looked from Theo to Hermione before Theo grinned at him. “Brontë,” he said conspiratorially. “Muggle author.” He looked back to Hermione and said, “Means it’s an evening with dear Jane Eyre then. Haven’t you read that a hundred times?”

“More, probably,” she chuckled, standing. “Goodnight, Draco. I’m glad you came. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He nodded, looking slightly winded for some reason, and offered nothing else.

After saying goodbye to a few people, and finding that Pansy had somehow managed to drape herself successfully across Neville’s lap despite the fact that he was sitting on a bar stool of all things, Hermione headed for the front door and slipped out into the night alone.

With her coat still over the crook of one arm despite the biting wind, she made her way from Theo’s cushy house out into wider Muggle London, and from there she began to meander.

Just as she crossed the boundary into Hyde Park, she heard running feet and someone calling her name. To her surprise, she turned and found Malfoy loping along the pavement after her.

Halting, she waited for him to catch up and looked curiously up at him. His pale cheeks were flushed pink again from the bout of light exercise, his breath billowed white, and his hair seemed to glow like burnished silver in the harsh light of the street lamps. It was hard to doubt the rumours of him being part Veela in moments like that.

“What is it, Malfoy?” she asked when he didn’t articulate the reason for his hasty journey. “Did I forget something?”

“No, I —“ he faltered and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. The motion ruffled his hair into something altogether softer and more attractive. He cut it much shorter at the sides now but left the top longer, and it had an attractive wave to it that had once been oiled out of existence in his earlier years at Hogwarts. “I thought — ach, this was a stupid idea.”

“What do you mean? What was a stupid idea?”

“I thought I’d come after you and see if you were alright. You looked fucking miserable back there, Granger.”

“You taught your son foundation spellwork with that mouth, Malfoy?” she countered, slightly staggered by his apparent thoughtfulness. This was not the Malfoy she remembered at all, and it was gratifying to find that her experience of him over lunch had not been a one-off.

He smirked and the effect was disarming in a way it never had been at Hogwarts. “I do try not to swear around him, but if he’s learnt something uncouth, I couldn’t promise it didn’t come from me. Or Theo. Actually it’s more likely to have come from Theo.”

She laughed suddenly. “Your little mandrake,” she sighed.

Something odd passed across his face and he stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket. “Salazar’s balls,” he cursed. “It’s colder out here than I thought.”

Wandlessly, she murmured a spell to extend the radius of her own extant warming charm to surround them both. “Better?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Left my cloak and stuff back at Theo’s.”

Hermione smiled and gestured with the arm holding her coat. “I’d offer you mine, but I’m not sure even you could pull off a Muggle women’s rain mac that’s several sizes too small for you.”

“Oh I don’t know,” he said. “I think I could transfigure it into something… workable.”

“You sound just like Theo and Dan and Pansy,” she groaned. “They’re always threatening to take me shopping. I’m terrified to let them loose on my wardrobe. I’m afraid I’ll never see another pair of comfy jeans again!”

“Don’t listen to them. The way you dress is just fine,” he said easily. “Besides, you give that lot an inch and they’ll take a mile. You should always stand your ground, especially against Pansy…”

“Well, I’ve got Nev on my side too,” she said. “Though even I have to admit that she’s had a positive effect on his wardrobe. Maybe I should let her take me shopping after all... I probably couldn’t afford the places she shops though,” she laughed, then looked up to find an odd light in Malfoy’s grey eyes. “You really came haring through London after me just to check I was alright?”

“And walk you home if you’d like,” he added. “But I’ll leave you in peace if I’m imposing. Heavens know you’ve had one pushy bloke to deal with already today...”

“The last thing I think of you right now is ‘pushy’, Malfoy. I think you’re very kind to come after me.”

He looked away at that and a private smile graced his lips. Bloody hell though; where some people’s looks seemed to have been watered down with age, Malfoy’s features had been honed and refined by time into something akin to a masterpiece, with high, sharp cheekbones and a slim, and clearly very fit and healthy, figure. It made her stomach swoop and ache again in a way she hadn’t felt in years. It also made her feel a little self-conscious of the softer curves she was carrying around her hips, arms, and lower stomach these days. Hefting books around kept her strong, but a largely sedentary life in the bookshop wasn’t doing wonders for her once-svelte figure, it had to be said.

He nudged his elbow out a few inches and she smiled, taking the offer and sliding her fingers into the crook of his arm.

They set off and walked slowly, aimlessly, along the walkways of Hyde Park, and for a long time neither of them spoke. A cyclist shot past them at one point, and Malfoy watched him disappear into the distance with an inquisitive frown, as if trying to figure out how it could possibly function. He never said anything though, and they carried on, warmed by Hermione’s spell and encased in an oddly amicable silence.

It was Malfoy who broke the silence at last. “You find this strange, Granger?” he asked, glancing down at her.

Her breath caught as she stared up into those full-moon eyes of his; bright and silver and so god-damned intense. Gone was the pinched look of fear and insecurity lingering in the corners. Gone was the cruel, steely glint. The lines of his face were still hard and severe, and he carried a hefty frown most of the time, and that trademark pointy chin was still there, but he really had grown up, inside and out, and it showed.

“Strange?” she croaked. “What, you and me walking arm in arm through Hyde Park at seven in the evening?”

“Mmm,” he nodded.

“A little,” she admitted as she looked ahead up the path. “A little.”

Part Four

___

As before, if you like where it’s going and want to see more, do let me know! I will post it on Tumblr as I write it, and once it’s all complete, I’ll plop it onto AO3 in one go. That way keeps the pressure off a bit, I think? Anyway, let me know if you’re enjoying it, and why, either by reblogging this or sending me an ask

writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #older dramione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger x draco malfoy #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione fic #older dramione fic #hermione x draco #let no man steal your thyme

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alliterative-albatross · 3 years

Note

So, I sent you (@disgruntledspacedad) a pretty long ask a while ago (back when you had anon on) and I'm decently sure Tumblr ate it (or maybe you ignored it, in which case, feel free to ignore this one as well). But then I saw one of those "writers appreciate feedback no matter how long" posts, so I'm back here. Here is my mediocre attempt to rewrite my original review of your work. Bear in mind that English is not my first language, so if at any point my phrasing sounds weird to you, you know why. Mandatory disclaimer/apology: this might get a little too long 😅

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

I remember being SO mad at myself for not finding this sooner. I binge read it one afternoon with no thoughts for any real life responsibilities I might have had (and no regrets). Javiears is one hell of an unconventional relationship in the beginning, and I really love what you did with them. The whole premise of your story is quite refreshing, and you somehow manage to convey the trust and mutual respect there two feel for one another without explicitly showing us the beginning of their "entanglement".

Also, fuck you for what you did to poor Emilio, that man was a saint and he deserved better! I honestly can't believe that I got so attached to a character that appeared so little in the story, but it happened, and his death kind of broke my heart.

But the Javiears reunion + mild confession was lovely, and felt completely deserved. And of course the sex scene. I won't lie, I expected a bit better from Javi there, but I did like how utterly /human/ it was. Capturing that humanity, the imperfections in each character is something you're really good at (more on that later).

AFTERSHOCKS

Ah, my emotionally constipated babies who really need to work out their communication issues. I do love them, though. And this short series did a really good job of delving a bit deeper into Ears's and Javi's psyche. Kudos to you for dealing with the medical "aftershocks" of living through an explosion AND using that experience to move your emotional plot forward. These two need to grow a lot before they can get to a stable point in their relationship, and you really manage to convey their insecurity and fear of commitment/intimacy while making it clear that they're in it for the long run and that theirs is a relationship that WILL work out so help them God.

IF I FALL

Ouch. Punch me in the gut while you're at it, why don't you?

But seriously, "If I Fall" is SO FUCKING GOOD. Don't get me wrong, it's angstier than an image of Jesus on the cross (don't judge me, it's Holy Week and I just got home from accompanying my grandma to church), but it somehow works beautifully. You, my dear, play heartstrings like they're a fucking guitar and I AM HERE FOR IT.

You're doing an amazing job at making me feel everything these characters are feeling, which is both awful (bc pain) and impressive.

Also, if anything happens to Ana I will cry, because she is adorable and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also, if anything happens to Ears I will cry, because she is badass and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Also also also, if anything happens to Javi I will cry, because he is loving and wonderful and has suffered way too much already and really deserves a break and some cookies.

Basically, I am really invested in the well-being of these characters and can't wait until they're happy and safe again (please tell me they will be, my heart can't handle much more pain).

A quick note on the angst complaints: yes, this story is way angstier than most other fics out there and it can be a bit too much at times, especially considering how many chapters of pain it's been. BUT it's obvious that "If I Fall" NEEDS this amount of angst to get where it's going, to send the message it wants to and to properly develop its characters. The pain is as important to this story as flour is to bread. You may not like eating flour on its own (I don't think anyone does), but you love bread (because bread is amazing) and you must recognize that bread NEEDS flour to work. It wouldn't be bread otherwise. And eating the flour as part of the bread even makes you like the flour because the bread is just DELICIOUS.

I fully understand and sympathize with the people who have elected to table "If I Fall" until it's completed so they can binge read it knowing there's a happy ending in sight, but in case you're feeling a bit self conscious about all the angst, please know that your story is beautiful not in spite of the pain, but rather /because of it/.

PS: No, I'm not high/drunk, I just really like bread

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Silly thing to comment on, I know, but I do feel like it's important that you know how useful your ANs have been. There are many details in the story that I simply wouldn't fully get without reading your comments at the end of each chapter, and I appreciate your writing a hell of a lot more knowing how deeply you understand and care for each one of your characters. Plus, it is obvious how much work you've put into researching a country and a time period that are (from what I gather) unfamiliar to you, and I really do believe you've done an amazing job of it.

JAVIER PEÑA

My boy. I love your characterization of this complicated character, and I have eagerly read each and every one of your headcanons about him. I can't really say if your version is fully faithful to the source material because it's been a while since I saw Narcos, but your Javi most definitely reads like a real person. He's fairly consistent as a character, and I feel like everything he does is perfectly natural for him to do as a character. He makes for an unconventional yet deeply interesting romantic lead, and so far I have thoroughly enjoyed all his POV chapters/scenes.

OCs

I know you've gotten some flack for making her into an OC halfway into the story, and while I get why the sudden change may have felt like a disappointment for some, I don't share that sentiment. I firmly believe that this fandom is unfairly harsh towards Original Characters and their creators, and I don't really understand why. Listen, I love Reader fics, and consume many Reader fics. I have read dozens, maybe even hundreds, and I can safely say that I've only ever "inserted" myself in approximately 10% of those stories. Reader characters are not as blank as their writers may want them to be. They can't be. They're characters, and character have personalities and moral values and senses of humor and a bunch of other things. Reader characters may not have a backstory or a physical description attached (and even that's not guaranteed), but they're still characters.

And on a more personal note, pretending they're actual blank slates is naive at best and insensitive at worst. Reader characters are American coded 99% of the time, and white coded 95% of the time. Not every readers is white nor American, even if that's the predominant demographic on Tumblr. When I read a JavixReader fic about a woman who speaks exactly zero Spanish, I know she's not me. The story may be beautifully written and have an amazing plot and character development, but the Reader *isn't me*. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and some of my favorite xReader stories feature a "reader" who couldn't be more different from me, but it's something that enemies of OC fics should take into account. Particularly if they are white and/or American. But I digress.

HANNAH AARONS

Your character is amazing. She's strong, smart, confident, independent and an all-around badass. She gets kidnapped while pregnant and still focuses on problem solving and survival. But she's also overly guarded and mistrustful, and really needs to work on her communication skills. There are times when I absolutely love her and even admire her, and other times when I want to whack her with a slipper. She's no Mary Sue, but remains interesting and likeable throughout the story. She feels wholly human and real, and that's no easy task. I like her, I am invested in her, and I can't wait to see what's next for her. She's a compelling and three dimensional protagonist in a complex story who never fails to draw me in. I love her. She's your baby, and you should be proud of her.

Also, quick question about personality types: I know you've typed Javi as ESFP and Ears as ENTP (100% agree on both, btw), but have you given any thought to their enneagram types? I personally have always seen Ears as being somewhere on the thinking triad, maybe a 7 or even a 6w7, but I'm not too sure about Javi. 9w8 maybe? He could also be a 6w5 🤔

PARTING THOUGHTS

Basically, I love your story, your characters and your writing in general. You are a fantastic storyteller and wordsmith. You get into the heads of incredibly different characters personality-wise (Ears, Javi, Berna...) and manage to capture all of their complexities and quirks every single time. And it doesn't feel like it's something innate for you either. To me, it seems that you have put a lot of work and effort into understanding each and every one of your characters, who they are, why they do what they do and what they want. And let me tell you, all that effort has been more than worth it. "Better Love" is a fanfic, but it wouldn't be out of place in a regular bookstore, if I'm honest. I don't know what you do for a living or if you've ever considered writing professionally, but you clearly have the skills and the drive to create some masterpieces.

You are amazing and your writing is a gift. Thank you for sharing it with us, and have a nice day! ~ 🍪

My friend, I apologize for hoarding your first ask. I’ve been sitting on it because I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy going back and rereading it. It gave me a lot of comfort when I was in a pretty dark place, both personally and in regards to my writing, and I was reluctant to send it out into the the abyss of Tumblr where I might never see it again.

That’s not fair, though. You put just as much effort into sending me that review as I put into my writing, and I apologize for never responding to you.

Okay, anyway, so twice now, you’ve made me cry. In a good way, I promise!

I absolutely love your bread/flour metaphor. It made perfect sense. I want the emotional release of Javi and Hannah’s reunion to be earned, and in order to do that, the angst has to come first (there are also a few plot “ingredients” that have yet to make their appearances). Thank you very much for understanding that, and for voicing it so eloquently.

I appreciate your comments on my research and characterization. You’re correct that I’ve put a lot of time and effort into crafting a universe. In a lot of ways, I’m doing my best to stay true to the source material (regarding culture and timelines in particular), and in others, I’m branching into my own territory.

On that note, I’ve never once regretted fully embracing Hannah Aarons’ identity as an OC. She’s stayed consistent in my mind from the beginning, and it was a relief to finally share my vision of her with the audience. And for the record, I totally agree with you regarding “reader” characters. Every reader insert echoes the perspective of their author, no matter how vague the physical description. I can only imagine how grating that must be from the perspective of a non-white, non-american reader. Thank you so much for sharing your insight! I will certainly keep it in mind the next time I write a “reader insert” fic.

Okay, enneagrams! I am much less familiar with enneagram than I am MBTI, but I agree 110% that Javi is a 9 with a strong 8 wing. I waffled back and forth on Ears a little, but eventually landed on 8w7 for her. It came down to the eight’s deepest fear, which is being controlled. That’s Ears all over, and the fact that she and Javi share that eight willfulness means that they might butt heads a little, which also seems very appropriate for them. Big thanks to @remusstark for her insight into the eight frame of mind - our conversations helped solidify my decision on this. :)

Anyway, I’m just rambling now. The big take-away point that I want you to get is that I am so, so grateful to you, both for your insightful feedback and your dedication in making sure that I actually saw it. You are an absolute gem and a deep thinker, Cookie-Anon, and if you ever feel like sliding into my DM’s, I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.

Mad love and soft hugs,

~ Jay

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 13)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 12

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Your existence in their world had reasons. A purpose that involves the contentment that Geralt never found in the world that he was in. The feelings you have for your witcher makes you feel things that you haven’t experienced yet, desires that make you feel sorts of things as it also was a cause of the Cicatrix that laid in between your chest. The question is, were you on the same page as Geralt is? or was it just a misunderstanding prior to that night?

Warnings: Soft and smiley Geralt! (*rolls on the ground*), Sexual Implications, a needy reader, an annoying bard, MODERN references, mention of Divergent, grumpy Geralt, a soft-touchy-feely reader. FLOOFY chapter! Insecure reader tho. 😭 Harry potter and Lord of the Rings references. HAHA!

Words: 8.5k (Well, Hello long ass chapter)

A/N: THERE’S STILL CHAPTER 13.1 BEFORE THE SMUT. AHE. Sorry for the delay. Happy mother’s day to all the mothers out there! Y’all are the best and real superheroes! If this chapter didn’t make you smile, then this means I am a failure for everyone! 😂💖

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

KISSING GERALT HAS BEEN SUCH A DREAM. The kiss felt like you were in seventh heaven and it also kept your mind wide awake the whole night; even with Geralt by your side with his lulling monster stories and those gentle fingers raking your hair like how he always does.

The gesture even made you a little more giddy than ever and Geralt didn't seem to mind as you've kept yourself wide awake; watching him sleep and never keeping him out of sight.

Though, he'd eventually covered those coy eyes of yours because it was bothering him; coaxing you to stop staring and just have your beauty slumber because you needed all the energy for your training.

A training that you thought would be for Cirilla because they've always had their swordplay fights before the sun rises and sometimes in the middle of a beautiful morning; as you watch Geralt in discreet as he wields his sword like how the waves move in the ocean. Very satisfying to ogle and observe.

The way he handles a sword was perfectly smooth and bland like how your coffee tastes in the morning.

Which is why your face was scrunched in peculiarity when he was done with Cirilla's training; giving the smaller silver sword to you with that reticent expression on his face; his habitual tight-lips now relaxed as he eyed you back with that tender gaze he holds whenever you were there.

An image you weren't used to; but may seem to wish it would be there forever because of how soft he appeared for you to see, not his usual brooding and serious persona.

"This is a very nice first date," you sarcastically muttered; wanting to scoff and whine from how unusual it was to receive training from the witcher like you were some sort of Tris Prior in the world of Divergents.

After the kiss last night, you've expected him to give you flowers, gifts, kisses or maybe more of his attention. Howbeit, you'd remember that you weren't in your world and that he wasn't a typical man who'd woo women like that. Geralt was probably a man whom women has been trying to court just to have his attention based on how beautiful and captivating he was.

Were you his beloved now? A girlfriend? his lover? you actually had no idea and chose to stay silent. Never asking anything more as to not ruin his good mood as he woke up in the morning.

Geralt didn't specifically told you anything about being his beloved. The only thing you understood in his words last night was that you were important to him and that he also cared.

Perhaps, he doesn't roll that way. The witcher wasn't particularly that type of man.

Therefore, you left it at that although it was dithering your heart. You were contented whether how ill-defined your position was in his heart.

"Why am I doing this again, Geralt?"

The latter silently watched you fidget with the sword on your hands, your cheeks puffed from how strange you thought his favors may be. He couldn't help but give you a beam that showed his teeth, his emotions thoroughly in a bliss after the night he confessed; parts of his aggression lifting up his chest, "The bard knows how to fight with his dagger," he adhered strictly to the fact, keeping the sword safely on his side.

Those lips of yours jutted in an opposing pout; your eyes seeming to connect with his spellbinding ones while he continued to wheedle, his cat-eyes curving into a soft shape of a crescent and you were totally enamored. Your heart skipping a beat when he was never breaking his gaze away; giving your stomach the heebie-jeebies, "---Cirilla is finally learning the techniques of using a sword,"

Your mouth was now turned into a tight-lipped one, shaking your head from the idea he wanted as you scrunched your nose further, "And I am better watching you and Cirilla have your little sword play fight," pause. "---I'm not going to fight anyone,"

You've continuously shook your head, tutting at the brilliant idea he'd tried to think of. Though, Geralt was adamant for his preposition; seeming to think the idea won't get you stabbing him accidentally or better yet, yourself.

"We can't be certain that there wouldn't be," he proclaimed, utterly determined.

You huffed out a frustrated breath, face falling right in the middle of the meadow as Geralt stood before you. His comely stature shining against the morning light and you were sure you've been blinded, "Right. Bad people are chasing you still,"

A bashful look has been unintentionally given to the witcher, lighting up an amused crooked smile and hum from the latter as he stayed completely taciturn, admiring the shy woman that stood before him.

You've suddenly felt him shift, turning your focus back at the Herculean, white haired Legolas as he'd languidly took a step back, looking calm and composed as he firmly ordered. His smile falling, turning all ruminative.

"Hit me."

More complaints were sent for what he requested, finding the whole ordeal somehow lamented because all you ever held was a pen, paper or laptops that certainly doesn't deal with people shedding blood unless you stab a pen at them. Sure, you've dreamt of fighting in combat in fantasy series or movies; but in your imagination, you were skilled. The version of yourself that you had in your dreams had talent and the one you have today only had idiotical abilities to plot your own demise because of how foolish you were in their world.

"Can't I fight with Jaskier?"

Geralt cocked his head to the side; in utter amusement as a small smile carved his pretty, luscious lips that grabbed all your attention. The witcher immediately noticed and had a smug glint in his amber eyes as he talked, "If you wish to annoy people and woo the king then he is excellent at it," pause. "---You wouldn't learn how to use a real sword from the bard. Unless, using a lute as a form of weapon in the middle of a royal banquet is your choice of fighting then Jaskier would do a great job,"

Thus, from the moment Geralt has made his utterance, Jaskier somehow had the luckiest time on planning to feed Roach as he emerged from the doorway, ceasing himself from sending a teasing ridicule as his name has been called in vain; backstabbing him by finding entertainment from how he tried shielding himself from the incident back in the years.

"I've never received any compliments from you don't you, witcher?" he hollered back, enclosing his mouth with a hand as he called from afar; a bucket full of Roach's food on the other.

Jaskier seen Geralt shake his head, a surprising beam drawing his face as the witcher playfully wisecracked out loud, "You don't need them, Jaskier."

The harmless banter made Jaskier pucker his lips in surprise, never anticipating how he'd gradually changed from being the brooding, reserved witcher to the grinning, active man he was seeing as he was teaching a woman who had no inspiration on learning the techniques of sword fighting.

Geralt simply turned his head to see you awkwardly holding onto the base of Cirilla's sword; having a gawky, hunched stance and the witcher took heed of it but chose not to correct it yet. You were dubious of even holding a sword and also a lot more hesitant as you've tried to strike a blow at his face. Without effort, he'd simply dodged the attack with one hand using minimal strength. The swords instantaneously crashing against each other with a satisfying ring of metals colliding.

Unfortunately, the weapon flew out of your hands as he'd dodged your strike, shamefully falling on the ground with a soft thud. Geralt snapped his eyes at the sword that fell from your hands before feeling his eyes turn to you, "Midget." he calmly scolded, having at least a massive amount of patience for you, "---Take it easy." you'd heard him advice. Baritone timbre soft but still rough which stirred that familiar warmth pooling just below your stomach; heart beat stumping upon your chest because of how you were worried it would obscenely pool in between your thighs. Just the thought of Geralt's presence kindled with the fire raging your insides.

You've never had felt any such strong desire for a man other than the witcher himself and it was beginning to grow frightening because of how you wanted him so bad; the kiss you had probably triggering something inside of you that didn't know it existed.

Maybe, it was probably horny hours like how you had them back in your apartment. The problem here was that you finally had a man to do it with, but you weren't sure if he also desired for you the same way as you do.

What if he only wanted you for companionship? Perhaps, he'll somehow find you boring like how your dates went back in earth when the time comes?

You didn't notice Geralt has grabbed onto the sword that flew right out of your hands, sauntering towards where you were and his presence lingering a little too close for those kindling flames aggravating that desire you had when his voice vibrated from behind.

"Also, try harder."

Despite of how enormously tall and brawny he was, the witcher leaned down to grab onto your hand, his rough fingers caressing yours that was sparking up the flames as it felt so gentle. He placed the handle of the sword onto your palm, delicately dragging the other to hold onto the base. Those calloused palms of his enclosing yours in a warm embrace as his warmth from behind seemed to turn more quenchless as time goes by, a sudden hunger flooding your system as your body turned putty with just a simple touch.

You've felt your throat run dry, stance turning standoffish when he'd loomed behind you. Heavily aware of his presence. Your voice cracking and stuttering as you mindlessly thought out loud, trying to wash the vulgar thoughts away, "I--I--I am! It's just that you've given me a real sword for practice!"

Geralt reiterated; utterly droning, "It's lighter than mine," with a simple raise of his brow as he stood behind you, his face inches close and you could feel his stare completely immense, making you look away from how flushed your face have been, "Even so! It can hurt anyone! Can't I learn witchcraft instead? I’ll be the potato version of Hermione Granger! It’s impossible that your world has no Voldemort! Expecto Patronum! Avada Kedavra!"

The preposition was hurriedly rejected with just Geralt's smile turning upside down; replaced with a scowl that coaxed you to turn your head to see him shaking his head with his face approximately close to yours; those amber eyes trying to melt your heart as he still had that vivid, affectionate dewdrop clustering in those peepers that provoked a satisfied sigh out of your ajar mouth.

His pitch suddenly turned austere; mouth tight-lipped as he quoted, "You will not use any ounce of sorcery from my world," you've seen the side of his lip turn into a smirk as he haughtily added, "---Alas, you are also too clumsy and impulsive for it,"

Geralt grudgingly moved his face an inch away; not before seeing a sight of him taking glimpses of your ajar lips as you awaited to be kissed by the witcher himself; howbeit, he chose to tease and ignored the accented feelings he had been trying to hide since the first day.

The latter surprisingly gave a chortle, his chuckle sounding heavenly amongst the birds chirping in the background, "How dare you?!"

He gave your hands consolatory pats as it was already surrounding the base of the sword. Geralt straightened his back, his thumbs casually giving the back of your hand a soft caress before taking heed of your silent squealing from his seraphic touches, "Hold the sword with your dominant hand, midget." before he took a step back away and muttering a mocking repartee, "---Maybe a Hirikka will be a better combatant than you,"

You've watched him waltzed back to where he was as he stood in front of you with a grin on his face, "I shouldn't have accepted your apology last night." you deadpanned with your eyebrows furrowed from how riled up and entirely flustered you were feeling early in the morning.

The witcher tipped his head with his smug grin, "You didn't. I just knew you would because you never get to have your nap without receiving cuddles and chill from me,"

You've feigned a gasp, unclasping your hold around the sword as you placed your palms around your hip, giving him a sassy posture of how you were appalling by the truth that he suddenly was giving; thoroughly surprised by his sudden pesky, frolic attitude he seemed to vibe. He was learning from your modern references and it shocked you even more.

"It was cold last night!"

"The night is also dark," He ridiculed and mocked what you've said to him last night while he was asking for forgiveness. His teeth slipped against the cardinal pillows of his lips, giving you a gorgeous toothy grin that made your breath hitch as if his aesthetics radiated off the sun light, "---You needed my warmth, midget."

A playful glare was sent to the witcher; intentionally keeping up with his mockeries as you gave a chuff and found his mischief rather entertaining because he rarely acts the way he is right now, "Are you a furnace? No. You aren't, Geralt of Rivia. Don't act like raking those fingers of yours through my hair doesn't help you sleep at night---"

"But, I'm your furnace amidst the benumbing night."

You couldn't help but giggle from his innocuous pick up line, utterly finding it amusing and endearing when you've understood it way differently despite of how ingenuous he wanted it to sound.

Their era and how they communicate was certainly giving you a good ol' laugh.

"Are you calling yourself hot?"

Geralt couldn't help but outstare; gawking from the dazzling laugh you've mindlessly given him. He was oblivious of his beguiling beams he has been making you see and the gaze that bewitched the morose of his spirit, puzzling how a mere person could take away the misery that has been haunting him since the moment his mother has left him alone to become a witcher in their world and a lot more great affliction he'd somehow experienced.

Presumably, your existence in their world had reasons.

Hence, the witcher knew it involved his happiness.

"Now, keep your stance firm," he snapped out of his daydream, gently tapping the tip of his sword on your thigh which erupted a squeak and a tiny whine from you, "---I can't always be with you when you are attacked by anyone who wants my family dead,"

You tilted your head to the side, cheekily wiggling your eyebrows as you grinned up at him like a Cheshire cat as he shook his head from your playfulness, "Did you just lowkey tell me that you treat me as family?"

"Would you want it to be that way then?"

Another failed attempt of giving a successful, strong blow has been swung towards the latter, easily stepping one foot back as he blocked the smite with one hand. Though, you hadn't let the sword fly out of your hands this time which Geralt considered as slight improvement for being taught in the first day.

"Hmm. Again." he'd given an entranced hum, giving a tight lipped smile as he affirmed and tried to wriggle out more strength from you because it was pretty much a reluctant strike as well.

You've straightened your back, keeping your feet loosely away from each other as you sighed an exasperated one. The sword falling on your side as you wanted a truce. Feckless of the pout you were giving to the witcher who was too persistent in giving your body an ache from the training. Geralt raised a brow, seeming to enjoy your whining and allegations from the moment he'd given you a sword.

"Stop puckering your lips like that. I'm not giving you a buss when you're acting like a chit,"

A buss. It sounded pretty much familiar as it was used in those romance books you've read back in earth. His straightforwardness tickling your spine in a delicious way that got you flustered for the tenth time this day. You know your eyebrows rose up till your hairline from how he was assuming things that were actually the truth, "Did that mean a kiss?! I--I wasn't asking for a kiss though!"

"Then, acting adorable won't let you get away from this."

You've groaned out loud; fighting yourself off from stomping your foot out in utter vexation from how he'd always seem to knew what you were thinking. Were you that obvious?

"I hate you,"

Geralt took a stroll towards you, thoroughly leaning down to your height with a cross of his prodigious arms; the sword still in his fist and watching how he'd closely stared into your eyes as he fought off a smile, "The hate is quite indistinct and difficult to tell after you've been kissed last night,"

Your heart wanted to burst from the embarrassment, feeling your face turning into flames. Just add a little bit of oil and people could probably fry anything they wanted to as they use your face as a pan.

Reprehension would have escaped your lips if a hand hasn't clutched onto the side of your neck, his hot breath assaulting your face before you've felt his lips on yours in a hot second; never giving you time to process everything as he broke the buss with a sweet, tinge sound that seemed more soundly in your ears rather than swords colliding in a battle.

His hand behind your nape left in haste, straightening his back and shoulders; acting like he hadn't done anything wrong nor he continued to act like he didn't even give you a small, plain peck to the lips that gave a startle and somehow positioned you into a blissful, heart exploding condition.

"You don't dislike me, midget." Geralt's expressions were indescribable. His features stoic for five seconds before seeing his lips turning into a gloaty smirk as he spun in his heels, leaving you dumbstruck from the surprise.

"G-GERALT! That's not fair!" you stood rooted on the ground, keeping your lips together as you smacked it out loud like you couldn't believe he'd given you another kiss to ruin your ovaries and focus.

He strolled along the meadow, his emotions flying elsewhere as he was entirely finding your reactions hilarious. Geralt walked the path back to where he stood before, turning around in face-front to see your face all red and giving him the stink-eye, "Nothing is ever fair. Now, use all your strength to hit me with your sword."

You tightly grabbed onto your sword with both hands, listening to how he'd told you it should be held and also thoroughly remembering the basics that he told you prior; keeping your stance better than the one you held a while ago, watching how his face lit up as yours turned serious and challenging, "Oh, I will! You're a cocky witcher today and it's annoying!"

Jaskier have fed Roach back in the stable, he walked back to the doorway to see Cirilla leaning her back on the stone walls, arms crossed with a smile that tells how amused she was as she watched how you were trying to strike a successful blow at the witcher who found your lack of knowledge utterly astonishing and endearing; regardless of how he has been fond of having lovers which were strongly independent and knew how to stay alive in a battle.

You were a paradox to his life. Utterly questionable as to why you have even arrived.

"He's not teaching her how to fight," Cirilla admitted towards the bard who subtly nodded beside her, also watching the quote training unquote that you had with the white wolf. Yet, both of them could see how his way of teaching seemed to be less harsh than how they've been taught. Totally aware of how he was also buoyant rather than serious and brooding.

It was like a different Geralt that loom before them as he tutted and shook his head to cease your reckless attempts of trying to hit him with the sword; grabbing onto your fingers to cease you as he explained with a relaxed face he'd given while all you could do was glare and huff back.

Jaskier gave a small smile, eyes narrowed from how the sunshine hits his face and mindlessly tapped the handle of the bucket with his index finger, "The witcher is flirting with the rat, probably want some bonking,"

The lion cub of Cintra gave him a once over, "Some what, bard?"

"Forget what I said,"

Cirilla brushed him off as she went on with her lurking, Something you said ignited a grin out of the witcher as he quietly listened to your rants and rambles about how annoying he have been, "Also, this is the first time I'd seen Geralt smiling like that again. I hope she doesn't leave. I'll do everything for her not to leave,"

The bard gave a nod of understanding. Deeply thinking as to why Cirilla would do everything in her willpower for you not to leave; hence, seeing the smile that Geralt has given you was a simple answer as to why you needed more protecting and a lot more time to stay. Would it be selfish of them when you probably had a family back in your world?

Thus, Jaskier's gaze lingered on you and saw how you giggled back at the witcher who has said something that made him scowl. The mere sight of you strumming along the rakish onslaught of his heart strings from the week that Geralt wasn't around bothered him but he chose the better of it and ignored.

"But, isn't it strange?---" he momentarily ceased, snapping his gaze away from you as Cirilla gave him a nasty lour for whatever thoughts he wanted to say out loud, "---That your step-mother would be pretty much smaller than you?"

The child loudly groaned in response, turning her back away from him as she pulled the doors to go in, "You are honestly the most irritating person in the continent,"

The day has been pretty much a blur. After being trained by the witcher no matter how many failed attempts you tried; his patience utterly high for you to even comprehend that he had a lofty tolerance for your inability to successfully strike a sword.

Your arms were somehow sore, considering the amount of attempts that Geralt has been repeatedly telling you to just hit him with all your might, yet being active in the battlefield will never be your forte. He tried giving you hope, downright telling you that it was normal and everyone improves sooner or later as long as your training had consistency.

You've been a bitchy-pants after the training. All catty and stopping yourself from sending a t-bird for the bard who received a snide remark and decided to send irritating teases that you were just being sexually frustrated.

Simply to say, Jaskier knew you were having your horny hours. That time of the day or that day of the week.

How'd he know? you had no idea. It was probably only his guesses as to why you were acting bitchy towards everyone except Kolby and Cirilla. You were being bitchy towards the men of the house especially at Geralt who has given you body soreness.

If only it was a different type of ache, you would probably not be bitchy.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat your back along the walls of the hallway, the only place where you've found peace because walking in the first floor even got you vexed because Jaskier seem to find your irritation amusing and had been running his mouth about how it was fine to just give in to your fantasies especially that the witcher probably had wanted it as well since the first day.

You were contemplating whether or not to turn on your cellphone; remembering how it was only at seventy-five percent. You've stared on your phone that rested on your hands, spinning it around as you were trying to fight off the kept fervor that has been insatiable and a bother when Geralt has given you one touch.

The feelings and emotions have been skyrocketing, it was already there even just from the start of your morning. However, after going home from the Djinn troubles, it started doubling and began to grow bestial like a monster wanted to come out of your chest from how you badly needed the witcher.

It just wasn't normal.

Geralt was entirely aware of your vexation. Though, he was meters apart from you and was actually outside to take care of Roach. Inside his chest, he felt an ounce of disturbance with the help of your irritations and frustrations; the sensations coming back again and the witcher still had no idea why.

He knew where you were and decided to find you. Finding a midget hunched in the middle of the hallways with her brows tightly furrowed, a worried pout on her face and blown cheeks as you fidgeted with your phone.

Geralt fought the urge of smirking and just sauntered to where you were, his heart beat beating in blissful thumps that got him wondering how it was even possible in just the sight of you.

You've felt his presence looming before your stooping form, a stink eye was given to the witcher who crouched in front of you, his burning gaze solely on you as he cocked his head to the side, observing your face and the state you were in with a smile growing on his face.

"You're annoyed." he artlessly admitted, never risking to leave your sight.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you felt the burning desire grow even further, turning away to help your poor little heart from feeling more bothered than it ever intended to, "How'd you know, Legolas?"

The nasally mention of that nickname you had for him got Geralt frowning. His forehead creased to the extent that he seemed to be thinking rather too deeply as to who this Legolas was and why were you even calling him that.

"---and now you're the one annoyed,"

Geralt kept his lips in a tight firm line. Amber peepers shining in dissatisfaction.

You brushed off his noncommittal reaction; already used to his lethargic norms as you complained about his infuriating friend, "It's Jaskier! He's annoying me since this morning!"

He just continued to give you a listless look, giving a displeased hum as he wholeheartedly let you rant to him.

Then, you added, "---Just his breathing irks me!" which only a hum was the only word you've received again, "Hmm."

You've irritatingly grunted, giving him a glout as you also kvetched, "Stop the humming! You're annoying me as well! You've been annoying me too since this morning!"

Your cavils has stirred a defeated sigh from the latter. His sudden actions obviously had reasons as to why you were abruptly being trained with a weapon. If only he hadn't brought you with them in the marketplace and haven't run into Tybalt then gallants weren't supposed to be searching for you by fair means or foul.

"What did I do this time?" he lowly grumbled, utterly dead beat. A faint, crooked smile raising those lips of his. You've held onto your phone a little more tighter, feeble arms crossed in front of your chest as he simply gave you his attention that you somehow yearn a lot, "You and Jaskier can stay in one room together while I sleep in yours! Men are so annoying! Always have been!"

Geralt's features appeared to be of someone who was suddenly bothered at the understanding of your statement, his listening comprehension twisting whatever it is that you've said as he skeptically appalled, "You have been with other men?"

Your face twisted in a tight cringe, bewildered by his presumptions that sounded like he was telling that you had a lot of men back in the days or basically his words were telling you that he couldn't believe that you actually had a man before. You've given him at least ten seconds of you just giving him a displeased flicker of your eyes before the white haired witcher proceeded with his remarks.

"Also, are you threatening me in my own home? You're kicking me out of my own chambers?"

An innocent nod was given to Geralt. The witcher simply gave an enervated blink, hearing a serious growl buzzed out of his chest; scrutinizing for whatever your eyes held out to him. The intensified gaze of his peepers searing that says he needed your sincere answers.

"This...Legolas you have been calling me," pause. "--- Do I remind you of your previous lover?"

You waited for more additional questions or perhaps a moment where he could tell you that he was just joking around. However, the intimidating, gargantuan monster-slayer who was crouched before you; never said that he was just giving out any jocularity of his previous light-hearted demeanor as he was all brooding again.

He fervently stared you down, making you shift on the floor as you looked up into his eyes; mirth surrounding the windows to your soul when he didn't budge after you've given him an guileless beam, "Yeah. Pfft. Earth also has their own witcher slash elves---What? Oh my God, this is funny."

Geralt is all wordless and silent; awaiting for whatever explanations you could give him and you couldn't help but ask in a skeptical manner; bizarrely gasping for his seriousness.

"Wait, you're actually---stop giving me a scowl! I never had...one? He's a Lord of the Rings character and I swear to God, he is fictional---Not real! Though, he looks like you because the hair and such---but---" you've jumped from one thought to another, feeling the scrutiny under his gaze and obviously nervous that he appeared to look like he would grab his sword and look for the man to behead him. Though, it will never happen due that Legolas was entirely fictitious to even start.

You ceased yourself from trying to explain the background story of Legolas for Geralt. Your nerves getting the best of you whenever you were being interrogated. An exhale of breath escaped your lips as you took a good look at the grimacing witcher before witlessly reaching onto his face with your palms on either side of his chiseled face as you gave him your best doe-eyes, sweetly trying not to coo at how his brooding demeanor actually makes him look fetching nevertheless.

"Stop being mad at me," you buttered his silence up with a tender tone of yours and the way he scrunched his nose and appeared to be looking bizarre tells you that your sweet-talking was cringe-worthy because of how you probably never knew how to simmer a man's troubled day.

Or he was just not used to gentleness.

You've retracted your hands away from Geralt's face and tried your best in avoiding those questioning and bemused eyes of his as you abruptly stood on your feet, shamefully rubbing your nape as you had yourself wincing from the second hand embarrassment of treating Geralt like he was some soft baby, reminding yourself to never do it again, "I am embarrassing myself,"

At the time you've stood up, Geralt also has been on one's feet. He didn't mean to look at you weirdly as you've cupped his face with that tender gaze inside your eyes. When the moment your delicate fingers brushed his, he felt as if he was in utopia. The man wasn't just used to intimate touches especially your caresses that felt like Gossamer.

Geralt just wasn't used to people treating him like he was actually human instead of someone who deserved to be treated differently.

Only Renfri, Yennefer and you had this effect on him. Though, with yours seemed to be much stronger.

Your panicking state urged you to flee from his presence, but the witcher wasn't going to let you go that easily as he'd caught your wrist; gently pulling you as your back hit the wall. Both hands and fingers scooping your neck like a baby chicken he'd caught and decided to take care of as his his warm touch skimmed till his thumbs brushed against your jaw, carefully urging you to peer up into those amiable gazes he successfully tries to give.

"I'm not mad." he dearly reassured, his small smile bringing your heart into euphoria because he was much more beautiful this way; smiling as if the world hasn't condemned him with an ill-fate of being a witcher.

Your beams were difficult to fight off; immediately giving him a smile as he also did as well. Chiefly, only giving you the sight of his crinkled eyes. His thumbs tenderly caressing your jaw which coaxed you to calm down from being fidgety which was totally a good medicine because your nervous jitters actually ceased with just his gentle touches.

You've grabbed onto his hand, memorizing his soft features as it was ever been a rare sight. Never believing he was acting the way he right now towards you. Your fingers brushing against his hands like a feather tickling the witcher's sanity.

Before another utter cockblocker slash disturbance came trudging up the staircase and somehow found you both in an heartfelt position; with Geralt cradling your face like no other.

"Oh! Ughm, this is a rare sight." Jaskier ceased his steps, midway through the hall, the bard's growing grin seeming to give you jitters as his ridicule began, "---and the small rat has been sexually frustrated, Geralt!"

You just wanted to strangle him sometimes.

"Cot damn it, Jaskier! SHUT UP!" you exclaimed, totally flustered as Geralt dropped his hands to the side; looking between you and Jaskier in ponder; those eyes of his full of curiosity, "You're...?"

"I AM NOT FEELING SMUTTY!"

If only you could dig and cover yourself up from the embarrassment, you would.

"---Smutty."

"You get my point, Geralt! I know you do!"

Geralt had his forehead in a tight wrinkle, thoroughly thinking what you meant; though, he understood none because the word seem to be peculiar, "Midget."

Jaskier exhaled an exasperated breath, dramatically rolling his eyes as he waved you both off and curved right pass between the both of you, entering his chambers to grab onto some clothes because he wanted to bathe.

The bard pointed a finger as he walked off, his hips swaying as he does so and never looking back, "She needs some nightly penetrating! You're welcome, witcher!"

Geralt watched Jaskier leave, an amused pucker of his lips was the answer to your questions that he certainly understood everything now and cocked his head to the side, peering you down as he awaited for an explanation. Yet, all he saw was you covering your blushing face with a guilty, forced smile as you washed your face in frustration to give him your regretful eyes.

"Don't listen to him," you quoted and begged for him to just take the bait.

Nevertheless, you've seen him raise a hand; about to start talking about being one horny woman for him when you've stopped him midway and tried to shift the topic away, "Anyways, I forgive you, Geralt. Now, can I braid your hair?"

The witcher closed his ajar mouth, humming in wonder as he dropped his hand to the side; narrowing his gaze at you, "I wasn't asking for any of your forgiveness."

You've blinked back at him, jutting your lips together as you looked away, tone teasing and slightly threatening, "You sure that's your final answer? No regrets?"

Geralt roughly puffed out a breath, muttering profanities beneath his chest, "Fuck." and another grunt because he'd remember how he still wasn't forgiven by yelling at you for last night, "---Fine. Do I have a choice?"

Your smile turned into a knavish grin, wanting him to regret why he even agreed to whatever plans you have for him as you bluntly answered.

"No."

The one you had in mind, planning for a simple diversion for Geralt to erase the horrid truth that Jaskier has told out loud for him to hear was actually another rabbit hole that had caught your feet, catching you going far down the pit like you have been scammed. Clearly, because Geralt's unwitting deep groans and hums has made you hot and bothered every time you've tried combing his hair along his snowy locks.

You were wincing every time he has his nose flaring whenever your fingers thread along his hair, the knots giving his head a rough yank from how you were trying to untangle those knots.

Geralt sat on the floor; his arms on either side of the bed. With you who sat on the bed and your legs criss-cross behind his impressive, thewy back; tempted to just give him a big hug because he seemed so comforting but chose not to based on how grouchy he became once you've combed his hair with your fingers.

You didn't even know if he was irritated or somehow liking the whole situation because he was deeply growling, groaning and eventually having to hear a slip of guttural, restrained whimpers that caught your ears. Enlivening that cravings and curiosity you had for some human touch.

"Midget..." he grumbled another complain and lowly warned, hearing the baritone growl he'd ought for you to hear which made you ignore his protests as you had your own protestations as well, "Stop complaining. Also, don't you own a comb? Your hair---It's---Oh! I'm sorry! Can you please stop growling and moaning at the same time!"

His head was minimally pulled back because of your reckless combing. Your nose scrunched even more as you'd received another menacing hum that tells he was close to hitting your face with a pillow because of how rough you were taking care of his hair. It's not that you weren't rough, but the locks in his hair was frustrating you to the highest.

"Hmm."

You subtly leaned down, sneaking your head to the side of his face to see his expressions void of emotions. The typical Geralt whom you've met as he felt your presence nearer, he'd turned his head to give you a lackadaisical look in his eyes that tells that you were stressing him out.

Your eyes twinkled apologetically as you had no problem in receiving a glare from the fussed out witcher. "Well, that sounds like a displeased hum," you stated as a matter of fact, shrugging your shoulders before straightening your spine and grabbing onto his Ivory roots again, "---and a different kind as well,"

He sighed in defeated, letting you handle his hair in spite as he simply closed his eyes. There was no more backing out as he was now sat in front of you, hair all untied as you've threatened to cut his hair with a scissor you've managed to have that was sat beside you.

"Bad kitty! You're liking this, aren't you? You like your hair being pulled!"

No answer was received and you left it at that. Thinking that maybe he wanted silence as you went on with brushing his hair with your fingers. Now, all gentle as the tangles were already free from the knots. It was certainly improvement; in Geralt's side because he stopped complaining after you scolded him so and quietly waited for you to finish; showing like he trusted you with his hair or whatever.

With a gentle tuck of his hair behind his ears, the witcher was all putty on your hands. Hearing a low rumble that resonated off him in pleasure and satisfaction because of how your touch was sending torment to the cravings he had for you.

Hence, his patience and respect he had for not throwing you over the bed and just relishing in with those insatiable desires he had for you needed and deserved an applause because of his high-capacity to resist the mania.

His appetite was surely in a famished mayhem as he breathed in slow and deep, your gentle touches that raked through his roots and his cravings growing more and more uncontrollable with each passing day and night.

Maybe, the scar you had on your chest had effects. Lewd effects for the both of you.

After minutes of comfortable---well, aching moments for Geralt; you've heard him mutter through gritted teeth in the midst of his slow breathing, "I'm not a cat."

You were already at the ends of his Ivory hair, simply braiding them in perfection as you objected, "But, you are! My grumpy kitty!"

There was no response again and you focused on braiding his marvelous hair and let the silence flow. You were actually just hearing him breath as it also calmed your nerves; a bewildering occurrence on how one's breathing could simply put you in peace.

You've grabbed onto his black ponytail which seemed to be owned by Cirilla and tightly tied onto the ends. Small hairs that seemed to not be possible in tying them down were imperfectly out of its nest; though, the ruggish effect it gave was actually making it look perfect for him.

"There! Done!" you mirthfully exclaimed, giving out a tiny tee-hee before you recklessly surrounded your arms around his musclebound shoulders. The irresistible urges just telling you to cease from being shy even just for today and be more of your unshackled self; stepping out of your timid borders every once in a while. It surprised the witcher with your touchy-feely attitude as his body went stiff when you've embraced him from behind, "See? I told you! You'll still look beautiful with your hair braided! Now, payment time, mister!"

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, clicking his tongue as he tried to find any words to say from your hasty, sweet gestures while he was not one who is used to receiving such care. Geralt had no words to say, his mind going in a haywire as he suddenly saw your palms in front of his face, begging like a peasant with your face nuzzled to his side as he weirdly stared at your palm.

"You want coins?" he skeptically questioned, your warmth and scent crashing his ability to think straight. You've dropped your arm around his shoulders, your actions seeming to surprise you as well but you paid no heed and just wanted him closer; his warmth insatiable as you hugged Geralt tighter. Your warm touches giving his body to adjust and be used to it as you felt him slowly relaxing against your hold.

You peeked from the side of his face, giving him a twinkle of those vindicated eyes as he languidly turned his head to see you giving such a naive look that he couldn't help but be fond of everyday. If it would take his hair to be braided for you to sweetly look at him like how you do right now; he would take the risk on letting his hair get yanked, "I don't know. Whatever payment you have in mind---I would love it,"

Faces were inches apart. You've seen the way his eyes glow in sudden mischief. His risquè suggestion making your heart warm in a way that got your ravenousness fueled as your face felt the blush and sudden excitement, "The one I have in mind is quite unseemly for your chastity,"

You gave a giggle, always loving how he'd intensely stare into your eyes like you've given light to his darkness; that type of glow inside his eyes that got your insides churning whenever he does, "Aren't you playful and naughty today, Geralt?!"

Geralt gave a tight-lipped smile; knowing you wouldn't accept his ravenous suggestion because of particular things he knew about. The witcher knew he wasn't wrong, he can never be wrong by what he was sensing.

However, a rare smirk was promptly shown, the ingenuous flicker inside your eyes changing in just a snap of one's fingers as it turned suggestive and playful, "What if I actually want that?"

It was what your heart wants and what those voices inside your head has been whispering. The mere idea of Geralt defiling your chastity that you have been treasuring because no other men deserved was utterly thrilling and worth it.

Not because of the thought that he was striking, but he was the only man you've wholeheartedly trusted and probably have given your heart like he was a king no matter how unsure of what you were in his life.

Closer and closer, you went in for the kill. Just his golden peepers alone was enough to pull you into a hypnotizing trance as you closed the space between you both, landing your lips to his in a soft, birdsweet peck that got you insides melting and the desire rapidly coming back in scorching flames, "I thought you wanted to indulge my curiosity all night long?"

Your words were temptingly drawled slower as your warm breath hit those ajar lips of his, an impenetrable haze in his eyes that suddenly brought uncertainty to what Geralt actually meant the last time you had the bathroom moment, your sudden confidence kind of wavering but still you've wanted to see how he was fond of you the way you also had your affections for him, "When I told you I was curious, it’s true, Geralt."

You've brushed your lips together and felt the witcher sigh before you had given one last honeyed kiss to his lips in which Geralt had puckered back, raising your hopes that he was solicitous about you.

'More,' his consciousness and emotions echoed, kissing you back with the same tenderness you held for him. He seemed like he was about to deepen the kiss; breathing through his luscious lips before you've felt the pillowy vermillion brush against yours as he abruptly ceased, hearing him lowly growl as he kept the tip of his nose, touching yours in an eskimo kiss before slowly pulling away to your disappointment.

The hesitation of wanting to deepen the kiss shot a sting to your heart; your overthinking self reading his actions that you've misunderstood his feelings that it was downright doting because you were head over heels for him after quite sometime.

But, hearing his next words immediately brought a weight down your chest, feeling the ineptness, dismay and shame for even suggesting lechorous behaviors that made you feel shameful because you think that it was rejected; thinking he rejected you.

He bedded tons of women. So, what makes you different?

You probably just weren't worth it.

"You don't mean that," Geralt lowly grumbled, his robust shoulders moving from how deeply he was breathing; ceasing himself from doing anything more further as the witcher continued to dispassionately utter, "---I don't deserve it,"

You hardly ignored the shame trying to strangle you into feeling such tightness around your throat as you unlatched your arms around his shoulders, skeptically eyeing the witcher who avoided your eyes, "What do you mean you don't deserve it, Geralt? You do,"

Were you desperate? Was the irresistible sensations making you act this way? Maybe. Howbeit, you would never regret every little thing you do for Geralt because it was what your heart has been telling you to do and not just your impulsive decisions.

Yet, the more he'd talk; it felt like as if the only thing you would regret was asking him what he meant.

Geralt heavily swallowed, jaw tightening as he apathetically muttered, "I'm guessing it's the Djinn's work that is talking,"

His response to your question ignited such ferocity inside your heart, shooting straight to your mouth as you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Did you misunderstood everything he has said when you were important to him? Deeply thinking that him and you were actually in the same page when his gestures and words right now seem to be the opposite?

"Are you saying that what I feel about you isn't true?" you questioned in disbelief. The scoff automatically being done as you've seen the tight scowl that Geralt has managed to put up again, "---That it's all...magic? The thing happening between us?"

You've tightly bit the insides of your cheeks, watching him stay silent and cease from opening up to you as he went on in avoiding your gaze and looking like he was the one who'd been rejected when it was you.

Thus, a continuation of your vulnerability went on despite of his stillness, your honesty probably will rue once it was said and done, "---before the Djinn even happened, you've been clouding my mind since then," a breathless pause. "---Since the first day I've been here, it felt like I was bound to fall for you, Probably, because the reason why I'm here is because...you are also here,"

Your candor has gotten the best of you and when Geralt was about to open his mouth for whatever that he wanted to say, your anxiety has managed to take over as you stood up from the bed in haste, feeling your palms tickle in humility from how everything that has been planned went down the hill because you misunderstood everything.

"Midget---"

You tightly swallowed the tightness stuck in your throat, finally feeling his gaze on you but you chose to look away; eyes now downcast as your toes fidgeted inside your boots, voice cracking when the apprehension was starting to take a toll as it was harshly plucking with your heart strings, "It's fine. We're just probably not on the same page yet and I understand why. Who would want me even?"

Geralt has been ruffled by your sudden assumptions, yet he chose to stay silent and be upset by whatever lies he'd been hearing; only having the actions to grit his teeth together as you restlessly tried your best to steer clear of your own dismayed feelings.

You shuffled on your feet, briskly walking towards the door before giving him a faltering gaze of yours as you awkwardly pointed at his perfectly braided hair while you stammered and tried to get a hold of yourself from the mortifying, stinging shame, "It's probably just...the genie effects doing these effects on me---I'll go apologize to Jaskier or something---Don't take that off, okay?!"

Hence, Geralt could only watch you leave as it was obvious that he'd upset you by his complicated behavior. Thus, leaving his heart stinging as well; feeling the same way as you.

Y’ALL ARE PROLLY CURSING ME FOR MAKING AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER 13.1 AHONHONHONHON XD (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, buddy! Please do check your settings, bb! Thank you!)

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthorr @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Shining Just the Way I Like, Part Two (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Denali and Rosé have their first date.

A/N: Back by somewhat popular demand! Thank you to @artificialpuddle for suggesting adding a second part with a roller-skating date! I hadn’t planned on a second part, but I loved the idea and my motivation cooperated, so here it is. Also, thank you to everyone for the amazing feedback on this! I really hope you enjoy, and I’d appreciate any thoughts you have! I should also have a new Branjie oneshot out soon!

Royale’s Roller Disco has enough lights to be seen from outer space, from the bright neon orange sign to the white lights on the roof to the green LEDs framing the door. The inside is no less colorful, with a rainbow wall of rental skates behind the main counter and disco lights swirling over the scuffed rink floor, currently packed with people.

“So this is a roller disco,” Rosé says as they enter the line to rent skates, head tilting around to take it all in. Denali has to take it all in too–she still can’t believe she’s on a date with someone as pretty and funny and kind as Rosé.

“Yep.” Denali’s been coming here since she was a teenager, usually for extra practice, but a lot of times for fun, and her eyes fly to the scratched wooden tables by the snack bar, where she and Kahmora split countless baskets of greasy fries and practiced flirting techniques. “It’s probably not as glamorous as you thought.”

“I like it,” Rosé says. “And I’m glad I gave in to Jan’s lecture on the power of jeans and a nice top and wore that instead of a dress.”

Denali snorts. The jeans in question curve beautifully up Rosé’s legs, her sparkly purple shirt twinkling under the lights. “Jan’s right, because you look amazing.”

“So do you.”

Denali just shrugs, like she didn’t need an hour and two FaceTime calls to Kahmora to put together her black jeans and silky pink shirt.

They reach the front of the line, and Rosé acts like the bored teenager behind the counter has given her a bomb, gingerly holding the beat-up maroon skates like they might explode any second.

“So, I have a confession.”

“Okay …” Denali holds back her smirk, waiting for Rosé to admit what Denali figured out the minute they walked in here, from how Rosé’s confident smile has become lip-biting to how she’s still holding her skates even though Denali’s are already on.

“I know how much you love skating, and I think this’ll be fun and everything, but, well, I’ve never skated in my life.”

Denali can’t hide her smile, or the flutter in her heart at Rosé willing to do this just for her. “So you thought doing something you’ve never done on a first date was a good idea?”

“Don’t judge! And I am naturally talented, you know,” she adds, patting her chest proudly, glowing with confidence. “I’ll probably pick it up fast. Plus I figured you could help, since you’re a professional and all.”

Denali melts at Rosé’s warm smile, and she can’t wait to get her out on the rink, guiding her like Denali’s coaches did for her.

“Of course I’ll help. I am a professional, after all.”

Rosé holds out her hand, and Denali thinks of them drinking milkshakes in the car, how Rosé’s hand was constantly near hers, like she was hesitant to reach out and hold hands but wanted to be close just the same. That hand is fully offered to Denali now, and she wonders if Rosé planned this solely so they could hold hands. But there’s no place for overthinking under the disco lights, and she does what she’s wanted to since they met, and slides her hand into Rosé’s. It’s soft and warm and she never wants to let go.

—

“Are skates supposed to be this tight? I feel like my feet are in cement. It’s worse than the time Lagoona got me so drunk I tried to walk around with my shoes on backwards.”

Denali smiles. “You’ll get used to them, I promise.”

Rosé nods. “I’m ready.” She takes Denali’s hand once more, taking slow half-glides, half-steps over to the skating rink. She’s excited, bouncing in her skates, and it tugs at Denali’s heart that she’s so ready to do this, make sure they both have a good time.

“We’re gonna start slow, okay?” Denali remembers her first time going on the ice, her new skates tight and stiff on her feet, so ready to skate fast and do jumps like the older kids that she took off and fell to her knees a second later, popping right back up and doing it again. And again, and again, until she could glide over the ice as easy as walking.

“Okay.”

They’re at the edge of the carpet now, and Denali takes a breath before pulling them both onto the floor, joining the mass of adults and kids laughing and whipping around. Most of the skilled skaters gather in the middle, twirling and dancing under the disco ball. As much as Denali wants to show off under there, she’s here with Rosé, and Rosé comes first.

“Denali, I’m doing it! I’m skating!” Rosé is letting out that adorable laugh beside her, one arm linked around Denali’s and the other outstretched for balance.

“You’re doing it, baby.” It slips out before Denali can stop it, and even if she half-hopes it got swallowed up by the ABBA blasting through the speakers, part of it feels right, so right, and she likes when Rosé gives a smile and silent nod of approval for the pet name.

They make a slow lap around the edge, close to the wall just in case, smiling and laughing the whole time. It’s nice to watch Rosé grow more confident, her grip on Denali’s arm loosening slightly. Nice to know Denali has really helped her skate and have fun doing it.

“Think we can go in toward the middle?” Denali asks.

“Hell yeah! Let’s do it! I’m basically a pro now,” Rosé says happily.

Denali laughs as they join the crowd, light bouncing off everyone’s faces, making Rosé’s smile even more brilliant, bright enough to blind the whole rink. Jumps and flips aren’t really possible here, but Denali still itches to twirl and spin at least.

“Go on,” Rosé says.

“What?”

Rosé just smiles. “Do your skating thing. I want to see.”

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“I just have to stand here, Nali. Even I can do that.”

Denali snorts, heart skipping a beat at the nickname. Rosé nods, and Denali lets go of her hand, spinning around under the disco lights. She knows people are watching her in awe, but she doesn’t notice; she’s in the zone she gets in on the ice, when it’s just her and the ice and her movements, everything smooth and natural. No people, no pressure, no need for perfection. Nothing touches her when she gets like this, and she has no idea how much time has passed when she finally comes to a stop, ignoring the cheers to spring back to Rosé’s side.

“Showoff,” Rosé mumbles, but she’s too impressed and excited to mean it.

“You asked to see it.”

“I did. And you were amazing. Seriously.”

“Thanks.” Denali’s face is burning in a way that has nothing to do with the bright lights or spins she just did. She’s gotten used to compliments and attention, but somehow a comment from Rosé feels like the first one she’s ever gotten. Somehow it means more to her than any others. She takes Rosé’s hand again. “Wanna go a little faster? We can slow down if it gets too much. But I won’t let you fall, okay? Promise.”

“Okay.” Rosé’s face is so trusting that she’d probably let Denali toss her in the air, knowing she would be there to catch her. And despite only knowing Rosé a short while, Denali thinks she always will be there to catch her.

—-

Denali leads Rosé over to the table she always sat at, the plastic chair familiar beneath her. They let their hands meet in the basket of fries, and Denali likes all the touching. She’s always liked touch. Liked the gloved hands of her skating coach nearby in case she needed them, the gentle weight of Kahmora’s arm slung around her shoulder. Touch with Rosé is different, each brushing of their fingers soft and special.

Rosé chews a fry and looks at Denali. “So, I feel like I did all the talking last time. Now don’t get me wrong, I love to talk,” Rosé says cheerfully, “But I want to hear about you.”

And Denali lets herself come tumbling out. How she was sixteen years old, the best skater in the state, medals made more of pressure and expectations than gold heaped on her. How she had her sights on the Olympics, but just wasn’t good enough to get the qualifying scores, and almost gave it up for good when she was 21, before coming back. How she still skates almost every day and competes in state competitions, but is thinking of giving into the skating rink owner’s offer of teaching kids part-time.

“I think you’d be an amazing teacher,” Rosé says. “You were great with me, you know? And you really love what you do.”

“Yeah.” Denali sighs. “For a while I was so focused on competing that I didn’t love it anymore. Didn’t want to do it if I wasn’t gonna be the best, or win awards for it.” It’s why she had almost quit after failing to make the Olympics. What was the point in doing it all when she would never be better than her own state? When she couldn’t win gold at the biggest competition in the world?

Rosé’s face gazes at her with nothing but kindness.“I think it’s okay to do something just out of love,” she says softly. “I mean, I want to be a great singer. And I am. But I love it too, and that’s what made me want to do it in the first place.”

“You’re right,” Denali says firmly.

“I know.” Rosé smirks, and Denali throws a napkin at her.

They walk out hand-in-hand again, and only after Denali is settled in the passenger seat of Rosé’s car does she ask.

“So, tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Did you plan this whole date as an excuse to hold my hand?”

A smile tugs at Rosé’s soft pink lips, one she tries to stop but fails. “It might have been … part of the decision,” she admits sheepishly. “Is that bad?”

“No,” Denali says instantly. “I wanted to hold your hand anyway. I probably would have offered if you didn’t.”

Rosé snorts.

Denali takes a breath. “There’s something else I want to do too.” She turns to her side in the seat, inching closer over the armrest, until she’s close enough to see every line of Rosé’s smooth lips.

They lean into each other at the same time, and the kiss tastes faintly of french fries but there’s a lot worse things it could taste like–Denali’s first kiss burned with the sting of locker room sweat. This kiss is infinitely better, and Denali wants to remember it forever. Rosé’s left hand resting on her hip, the other cupping the side of her face. How Denali’s own hands roam up Rosé’s sides. The warmth buzzing from Denali’s toes all the way to her forehead, which is pressed gently against Rosé’s.

She pulls away finally, relieved to see that Rosé’s grin is just as wide and her cheeks are just as flushed as Denali’s.

“That was–”

“Yeah,” Denali finishes. “Tonight was–it was everything.”

Rosé smiles. “It was.”

“Let’s do it again.”

“Deal.” Rosé’s eyebrow raises in mischief “I want a chance to show off next time though.”

“You got it.” And Denali goes back in for another kiss, knowing that there will be more of them to come.

#rpdr fanfiction #denali foxx #rosé #rosnali #lesbian au #fluff #s13 #shining just the way I like #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission

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