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gracie7209 · 11 months

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Amaryllis Chapter 6

Pairing: Frankie x f!Reader

WC: 9.2K

Rating: E

Warnings: Here we GO! We’ve made it to approximately the halfway point and the overall E rating for this story so minors DNI! I know some of this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea so heed the warnings… the beginning isn’t smutty and is definitely important so if you’d rather skip the smut just read for a bit and you’ll know when things shift— Also, Reader is hispanic (no physical description aside from accent and growing pregnant belly) and we dive a little deeper into her history— Fluff, smut, fingering, oral (m & f) receiving, pregnancy, pregnant sex, unprotected PIV (be safe y’all), normal bodily functions when pregnant i.e. lactation, reader’s horror at the realization, but Frankie doesn’t mind, lactation kink? Kind of? If you squint? Praise, dirty talk? They honestly don’t realize what they’re saying lol ummm I think that’s all, but please let me know if I missed something!

Summary: You see Frankie for the first time in two months. Emotions run high as he lays out his plan to deal with Tom.

A/N: I’m so nervous and excited to get this out…. We definitely still have a lot of story left to cover, but here is 9.2k worth of some much needed reprieve for these two. I’m sure there are mistakes aplenty, and I own them all. Everything started running together so before I just deleted the whole thing, I decided to say fuck it and post what I had. There’s also a good chance that I overused … and — but 🤷🏼‍♀️

Anywho, let me know what you think and as always thank you so much for reading!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

When you walk in, you know exactly what is waiting for you. But seeing him, actually seeing him hits you harder than you anticipated.

He’s sitting in a chair set off to the side of the room. There’s a coffee table between his and another chair to match, but pushed back so it’s not in the way. There’s also a computer desk set up in the corner, to accommodate working guests. The kitchenette is small, but there’s a fridge, microwave, sink and even a full stove. The King size bed set to the back of the room is neatly made. Untouched, so you know Frankie hasn’t been here long. You know he lives in the City, so he must’ve booked the room for the sole purpose of your meeting. You look over and his eyes are trained on your form, looking at you from underneath his hat.

Frankie knew from your letter that you had agreed to meet with him, but he couldn’t help the intake of breath at seeing you. You’ve always been beautiful, so he’s not sure if it’s just the length of time since he’s seen you last or what it is completely, and even as cheesy as it sounds to himself, he feels his breathing basically stop. If only for a moment, but there’s been very few things in his life that have left him that way.

—Two months is a long time for anyone, but generally people don’t change very much physically in that amount of time. In this instance though, you are much further along than when he last saw you and he can’t help but think how absolutely perfect you are.

You make your way to the chair opposite him and sit down. He’s shifted now so that he is leaning toward you, but neither of you say a word.

He slowly reaches for your left hand. Asking permission without breaking the silent spell that’s cast itself upon you both. You graciously accept and he takes your small hand between both of his. His thumb lightly tracing over your knuckles. He’s looking at your hands now. The giant eye sore on your ring finger, his focus. He twists it around your finger absentmindedly. You both know how little meaning it truly has. At least any meaning that was worth something. A burden. A chain - tethering you to someone you’ve never held even the slightest bit of affection for, or received for that matter.

He spins it around until the face is no longer visible. Neither of you have spoken, but the silence is deafening; containing every single thing you both wish you could say.

You notice a small piece of hair falling over his eyes - still downcast on your hand in his. Without thinking, you swipe the hair to the side.

He stills at the contact—

Slowly he lets go of you entirely. You’ve touched him like this before, so surely he’s not upset?

He sits back and puts his right hand against his face; his palm almost covering his mouth and chin and his fingers rest near his jaw. His other hand is resting under his elbow… He rocks back, then forward slightly and his eyes find yours.

What is there to say? He knows the situation you’re in. He asked you to come here because he thinks he has a plan, but you know that nothing can be done in this situation. This situation that you thought of as a selfless act to protect you mother. How very childish of you..

But you had been. A child that is..

18 years old - a “legal adult.” Definitely not ready to be thrown into this world, evidenced by your idiotic decision to agree to this “deal” that has done nothing but hurt you. Not that you really had much choice in the matter at all. And Frankie… Oh Lord, Frankie knows most of the details, but you didn’t tell him everything. You worry that the look he’s giving you now will be replaced by that of pity or worse, disgust. That he won’t look at you like you’re everything— like he is now.

You are broken out of your thoughts by Frankie as he abruptly stands in front of you. You look up at him… A silent question on your face - ‘What do we do?’ ‘How do we fix this?’

He is looking down at you now… his breathing picking up slightly.

In this entire span of time, not one word has been uttered between you. He’s still looking down at you and you’re caught in his gaze. You don’t look away from him. Everything you want is right in front of you, but has never seemed further away. Being ignorant to a situation or just simply being unsure can make you sad and unhappy; this is true. But it’s nothing like knowing exactly what you want and also knowing that you can’t have it. There’s always hope that eventually you can change your mind or make a decision when you have a choice…. But this? It’s like being in a room surrounded by unbreakable glass with no doors. You see everything—everything you could possibly want, with absolutely no way to obtain it.

He shuffles around, turning away, then back again before finally resuming his place in the chair opposite you. His elbows are on his knees with his hands hanging loose between them.

After a moment, you take a deep breath and you stand up. He raises his eyes to you as you slowly make your way to stand directly in front of him.

You’ve got his full attention now. There’s maybe a few inches of space between his face and your much larger belly, that has grown significantly since you last saw him, and his focus is drawn to it. You take this opportunity to slowly brush your fingers along the side of his head… His eyes close as you push his hat back enough to card through his hair. You think to yourself how soft his hair is and how good it feels between your fingers. Both of his arms reach up and lightly brush your sides where they hover there. He won’t attempt to touch you in any way without your say so. He looks up at you now and your barely perceptible nod is all he needs before his hands lightly grasp your waist and he pulls you closer. He buries his face against your middle - Your belly getting in the way, but he pulls back slightly, and lays his right hand flush against it.

You feel like you are frozen… Not with fear, but with a feeling you can’t even begin to describe. All you know is that it is so good and so intense, that you never want it to end.

It’s at this moment, he leans forward and closes his eyes, whispering a kiss just above your belly button. The moment his lips touch the soft fabric of your shirt, you start to cry. Your tears are flowing unbidden down your cheeks, lightly splashing onto Frankie’s hair. He looks up and once he sees your tears, he stands and grabs both of your hands. He begins shushing you quietly. Whispering softly, “Shhh, shhh… It’s ok…. It’s ok….” as he pulls you in and wraps his arm around your head - bringing you to his chest while his other arm pulls you into his embrace. You reach up and place your hand on his chest, your face buried in his neck. Your other hand is against his back and you both just stay like that. You breathe each other in and let yourselves feel the warmth of the other. The sound of his heartbeat is a soothing rhythm to your racing mind. You reach your hand up to his neck and he is so warm. You hadn’t realized that after years without a loving touch, you are completely starved. Your hand continues moving up until you’re covering his cheek with your palm and you finally decide to look up. His eyes have been on you the entire time. Just waiting to see what you would do. He would hold you like this as long as you needed him to and he would cherish every second of feeling you against him.

He reaches up to cup your cheek. His thumb barely brushing your bottom lip and your lips part at the feeling. His thumb stops and just rests there as his fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head just a little higher. His eyes are still searching yours— Asking you, pleading with you to do something. Your hand moves to the back of his head, playing with the hair that lightly curls there.

He tilts his head down and closes his eyes as his forehead touches yours. You close your eyes and your breath hitches as the sheer intimacy of the situation hits you… It’s not just a sexual tension, although it’s there, sparking like a live wire ready to catch flame - But, no… This, right now, is more soul encompassing. Safe and Warm.

—

After what seems like no time at all, the anxious part of your mind remembers what brought you here… other than just being able to see him again. —“Frankie?” Your soft voice a question, barely perceptible over the sound of his heart.

“Hmm?” He breathes the sound into your hair.. not ready to separate just yet.

“What’s your plan?”

—Frankie’s eyes open at that, but he still doesn’t want to move. You hear him sigh, and he very reluctantly pulls away, not far, but enough so he can look down at you. His arms are still wrapped around you lightly. You’re angled to the left slightly to make room for your belly…

“I don’t know how much time we have.”

—“Don't worry about that querida. Pope has Tom all the way in the City and he’s going to keep me updated on how everything goes. That’s why I wanted to be here in town in case things went south, so you would be close to home and could get there quickly if needed.”

‘Home.’ You flinch at the word. You don’t even know what a home feels like anymore.

“Ok.”

After a moment, Frankie steps back and motions back over to the chairs he was sitting in when you got there — For this part he wants you to be sitting. He knows that you’re not going to be happy about it, but after talking to the guys, well Santi and Benny anyway. Besides Will, the only people who know Tom better than even he does, it seemed like the most plausible option that could get through to him. If anything or anyone could, it would be in an environment that Tom knew. In a situation and setting that he was normally in control of.

“So, Pope has this job that he’s been begging all of us to help him with for the last few months.”

“Who’s us?”

“Our old team. Aside from Pope, there’s me, Will and Benny, and our fearless leader, Tom ‘Redfly’ Davis. It’s not on the books as a normal job, but kind of a free will mission.”

The confusion is evident in your face, but you don’t question it. He’s got a plan, so you just have to let him get it out.

—“This is, uh, well… I don’t think you’re going to like it, but I’ve thought about it. Enough to think that there’s a chance anyway. I’ve talked to the guys about it also, sparing details of course. But I talked to the people who know Tom the best. Santi and Will have known him longer than even I have and Santi agrees that this is the best way to try and get Tom to ‘see the light’, if you will.”

-You’re still confused. You don’t want to interrupt him, so you keep looking at him. Hoping it will start to make sense to you.

—“This job…. It would uh, require all of us working together as a team. Maybe as a team, we can also convince him that what’s been happening is wrong.”

You’re not sure what you expected, but talking to Tom? That was his plan??

“No. No, no, no, no, no…. Frankie, just talking to him isn’t going to solve anything. Tom may be your Leader out there,” you point toward the window. “But here?” There are tears running down your cheeks now. You told Frankie about your situation, but you didn’t tell him how deep it goes. He doesn’t understand that talking is pointless. Your emotions get the best of you and the floodgates open.

“Here, Frankie…. Here, Tom owns me. I’m essentially property. Sold to the highest bidder, who would pledge to keep me safe. My Abuelo…” you shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

You breathe in, then out…. “My Abuelo promised me to him. After my Papá passed away, we went to live with him. I was young and the last thing I did was promise my Father that I would keep my Mamá safe and taken care of. I was an only child and she has always had problems with her health.”

—Frankie has been standing this whole time, so he slowly shifts to the chair and sits down. His face shows no emotion… he’s just taking in everything you have to say. You stumble a bit but eventually you work up enough courage to just spit it out.

“It was an arranged marriage, Frankie. Simply put, divorce is not an option. Especially now, being divorced and a single mother would be a disgrace to my family. My Abuelo knew Tom through family friends, Tom offered…. And so it just was….”

You look at Frankie and he is still stone faced. You continue despite the shame you feel at what happened next…

“Tom was handsome, had money, and was looking for someone to come home to when he was on deployments… You, well you know the rest.”

Your Abuelo had made it sound as though it was the perfect opportunity for you.

Frankie seems to take a moment to digest your words…

—“So what are you saying? That the only way out of this is ‘Til death do you part?’”

All you do is nod.

“But.. and please don’t think I’m being insensitive here, I’m just trying to understand.”

“Ok…”

“You don’t live in Cuba anymore. Things are different here. You’re allowed to marry and divorce as many times as you want! Hell, in some states you can marry multiple people at once!”

He’s breathing heavily. He doesn’t understand and can’t imagine why you would be such a stickler on this. Arranged marriages aren’t actually a thing here. Are they? Did you really not think you could leave a situation for any other reason than just not being happy??

“I don’t think you’re being insensitive. I know it sounds crazy.. It IS crazy. But Tom has done nothing but threaten to send her back to Cuba if I ever tried to leave. I could never let her go on her own. She needs me… and in Cuba, I would be divorced and now”— you motion to your pregnant belly, — “a single mother. I would be a disgrace to my family and I can’t do that to her. There has to be another way, but I don’t know what to do.”

—Frankie is thinking. There would be nothing to stop Tom. They could try to get him to have a change of heart. That was the plan… but for someone to be ok with the things he’s done and be complacent in it?

He had no idea that arranged marriages were even a thing. Some of the guys in their division would joke about mail order brides…. Women who (they claimed) would do just about anything for a Green Card, including marry a complete stranger with the promise of a cushy lifestyle. Frankie always thought it was pathetic how other men could be so shameless…

Not surprisingly though, he can recall Tom being in on those jokes… Imagining having someone sweet to warm his bed and cook his meals etc

He never dreamed that Tom would be capable of actually doing something like that. Not that those situations even remotely resembled what your life with Tom was like…. Just the fact that he treated you like property. That someone could feel about a person as though they were merely a possession to be used at their will rather than a living breathing human being.

No— Tom was a monster. And Frankie felt like a fool.

You were right. Talking wasn’t going to change anything.

So maybe they go on this mission and just… leave him there? What if? No… No Frankie wouldn’t think that way. There had to be a way to get you out of this.

—You see him thinking. His brow is furrowed and his hand is rubbing the bottom half of his jaw and the patchy scruff there… His eyes are focused on the coffee table. There was no way out of this. You knew it and Frankie was figuring it out too. He had been so sure in his plan. Santi and Benny had hyped him up that they could get through to Tom. The realization makes him feel sick.

Then suddenly he looks up at you.

His gaze is absolutely piercing as he stares you down. “So what then? There’s nothing we can do? You’re just stuck with this piece of shit you don’t even care about? Stuck with a man who treats you like garbage?”

—You’re looking at the floor now. Tracing the diamond pattern of the carpet to give yourself something to think about.

“I don’t know Frankie. Sometimes life isn’t fair. Sometimes we are forced to do things we really don’t want to do because not everything can be fixed. Not every story has a happy ending.”

“What’s your happy ending?” He says it so quickly and quietly that you almost miss it. When he says your name at the end you look up. “What? What did you say?”

“I asked, well I’m asking you, what would be your happy ending? If you could do things the way you wanted to, what would you do?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it because it was never a possibility.”

“And if it were? A possibility I mean? What would you do if you didn’t have to worry about Tom.?”

You have no idea honestly…. So you spout off with the first things that pop in your mind, aside from ‘You, you, you!!’ “Um, maybe, travel? Go see the world… make some friends? Maybe get a cat?”

Frankie chuckles at that… he knows Tom’s not a fan of animals in general. Really, he was the fucking worst. His stomach clenches at how this has taken such a shitty turn..

“What about right now? If you could do anything, what would you do?”

You think you know where Frankie’s taking this. At this moment, there is no bright side to your situation. No exit strategy, no get out of jail free card, no nothing. The future looks bleak, options are null and there’s only one thing that you want that you know you’ll never get…. And that’s Frankie.

You look over at him and smile. There could be no future with him. Tom would never allow it. And the thought crushes you. You’ve never been asked what you wanted for yourself if you had the choice and the answer is screaming at you Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!!

You’ve always sacrificed your wants and needs for someone else. You made a promise to take care of your mother and you would do everything you could to keep that promise. But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t have tonight. One little taste of something you’ll never be able to have again.. And tonight, Tom was taken care of.

He was out of town, probably already drunk and you know he fucks whatever he wants to when he feels like it. You’ve known for a long time now. You weren’t the type of person to cheat. You believed in the sanctity of marriage and what your vows meant. You didn’t love Tom, but you were stuck with him. But right now, for the first time in your life, you make the decision to be selfish.

Frankie is still looking at you and his expression is hard to read. He looks lost. The unfairness of the situation is making him angry, but he’s also soft. He wants you. He wants to do everything he’s not supposed to and everything he won’t be able to do again.

You both stand at the same time, and he comes to you. His hands find your cheeks and he asks “what do you want?” in a register of voice you’ve never heard from him before. It sounds desperate. His eyes are on yours and he asks again, softer, “what do you want??”

Your answer is immediate—

“You. Frankie…. I want you.”

“You already have me. You’ve had me since that first day at the diner. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Tom won’t let me see you. Who knows when we will get to see each other again?

“I don’t care. I’ll figure out a way. I got you here tonight didn’t I?”

“Yes but it’s been two months Frankie… in another two months I’ll be a mother and we won’t be able to sneak away like this. This isn’t fair!!”

He pulls you forward and puts his lips to your forehead. You lift your head and find his eyes. Your eyes move down slightly and you find his lips and you suck in a breath. He’s so close, you can feel his breath on your cheeks. He smells like a light soap and a very distinct smell that is just his. The slight tang of gasoline mixed with the vanilla from his truck.

His hand makes its way to your chin and he lifts you to his mouth slowly. His lips are soft, and light just like last time, but he quickly pours himself into you and they become bruising. He breathes you in and immediately starts moving his hands across your arms….

Tears are running down your cheeks and you decide that you’re done fighting this.

Frankie’s mouth opens to speak and you stop him as you forcefully pull his lips back to yours. You begin peppering his mouth with kisses, like you can’t get enough…. Frankie has your hand and is playing lightly with your fingers as he pushes you back slightly. His tongue finds yours in what has turned into a flurry of movements and neither one of you knows where to go with this so you each just kiss every bit of skin you can find on the other. Frankie’s kissing the side of your head as you kiss the patch in his beard that never can fill in completely.

You run your fingers through his hair, knocking his hat onto the floor as he begins to kiss down your neck, and your entire body is on fire.

Hormones or not, the man knows how to use his mouth and every bit of skin he’s touched is illuminated and tingling and you want him everywhere all at once.

Your hands start to grab for his jacket… pulling at his shirt and running your hands up and down his stomach. You’re completely buzzing for him.

You can’t remember there ever being a time that you’ve felt this way. Tom having been your one and only, because, up until now, you held true to your vows even though it was a sham….. Even though you didn’t love him, he was your husband and you tried to make it work in the beginning. Tom was the one who couldn’t care less.

It angers you even more that you really did put so much into your marriage. You did everything you could to be the wife he wanted. You thought that things would change, and that maybe one day you could love him. Instead, he used you and never once

Frankie made you feel Wanted. He wanted you. He wanted you and not just for selfish reasons. He never made you do anything you didn’t want to. He never made you feel guilty, or inadequate, or like you didn’t matter. You always mattered to Frankie. He respected you and respected your choices in all things. If you were to stop, right now, and tell him you didn’t want to do this anymore, he would simply stop. No questions asked. He would never force you, or make you feel like your opinion was stupid. That realization hits you with such intensity that you’re drunk with it knowing that Frankie would always give you that power. Because it was yours.

You stop your movement, while still clinging to frankies’ shirt. You look up to him and your eyes are pleading. His brown eyes are blown wide and he nods - slowly pushing you backward toward the bed. His eyes never leave yours as the back of your legs make contact with the bed and you sit down. Frankie kneels before you… His hands are on your thighs, lightly rubbing up and down the soft material of your leggings. Your hands grab his cheeks and you pull him back to your lips— Tasting him again before you run your hands down his neck and inside the top of his t-shirt. You lightly graze his collar bone and he growls, his hands leaving your thighs to start shrugging off his jacket. Your hands find their way back to his hair and you pull slightly, bringing him forward so he is eye level with your heaving chest —something that has also increased in size since you last saw each other. You’re wearing a thin long sleeve charcoal gray top that has a scooped neckline that covers your growing bust, but would be very easy to move aside.

He leans forward and is kissing your neck again. Going slow, but very obviously making his way down your chest to the top of your shirt, he looks up at you and gives a greedy smile before turning his attention back down. His right hand has also been slowly making its way higher. Fingertips lighting a fire up your side until his large palm is lightly groping your breast —testing the weight in his hand… “God your tits are perfect,” almost to himself, but you heard him loud and clear.

“Frankie!!” You shriek in surprise at his choice of words… You’ve never heard him talk like that before and you feel your cheeks heat while something else churns in your lower tummy. “Sorry! Sorry, It’s uh, been awhile since I’ve.. been with someone. I don’t always think before I talk, especially with you. So, if I say or do anything you’re uncomfortable with, just tell me. Ok?”

“It’s ok,” you giggle at him. You’re not upset in the slightest. “I’m just not used to this. Besides Tom, you’re the only person I will have, um… been with like this.” You’re not sure why, but you can’t stop yourself before saying,

“But you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted like this.”

Frankie gulps and nods, before surging back up and capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. Everything in it tells you that he is going to take care of you. He slowly stands up and leans over you. Prompting you to scoot backward until he can kneel on the bed… His arms are on either side of your head, and you reach up and start running your hands up and down his forearm.

“Look at me,” he says your name and you meet his eyes. “If I do anything you don’t like…. Anything at all, please tell me.”

-“I will Frankie. I trust you.”

At the word trust, he silently loses his mind just a little. He gently caresses your face and pulls you in for another kiss, trailing his hand down your side before following the curve of your belly and resting his palm on top. “It’s not gonna, um, we’re not….” He sighs, not finding the right words. “I don’t want to hurt you. Or the baby.”

“You won’t hurt me Frankie. The baby is perfectly fine. At this stage, sex is completely safe.” You know that Frankie would never hurt you. You needed him to know that it was going to be ok.

“Ok. I’ve never uh, been with someone who was pregnant before.” His face flushes a deep red. “Me neither,” you say. His eyebrows almost reach his hairline and you have no idea where this sudden tenacity is coming from, but you couldn’t help it but to tease him.

“Frankie, it’s ok. I promise. It looks like this is just going to be a first for both of us then.” You smirk at him and he captures your lips again.

His hand starts teasing at the hem of your shirt until slowly going underneath. His hand is so warm and his rough palm feels amazing against your sensitive skin. He reaches up again, grasping your breast and squeezing it lightly, “This ok hermosa?,” Your eyes are closed so you just nod. The feeling is… overwhelming. He continues to massage your tender flesh until he his hand out and tugs down the top of your shirt, revealing your cleavage to his waiting mouth. He kisses the tops of your breasts and drags the fabric down further to expose your bra. It’s nothing special, but it’s functional while also providing comfort. He puts his hand inside, pulling you out completely… exposing your nipple to the cool air, but it is quickly replaced by a damp heat as his mouth completely engulfs the tightening bud.

“Oh my God, Frankie…” Your hands are back in his hair, holding him to you. His tongue starts lapping at you slowly, circling around your now hardened peak. The sensation is so intense, that you feel your arousal gather between your legs, and you shift slightly. Moving your legs together to give yourself some relief.

Frankie takes your movement as a good sign so he pulls you completely into his mouth and sucks, hard. Hard enough that your eyes go up into your head and you moan—the noise coming from you unrecognizable. Frankie just smiles around your nipple, sucking lightly while he takes in your reactions.

After a moment, he feels a little spurt of something in his mouth. He releases your nipple and looks down and you’re leaking. A thin opaque fluid dripping off of your nipple and onto your shirt. You look down when you feel his mouth leave you and you are absolutely horrified to see him staring at your leaking breast. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry…..” You go to sit up, but Frankie stops you.

“What are you sorry for Bonita?”

-“This! I, I didn’t even think about it….” the embarrassment makes you frantically attempt to cover yourself.

“Hey, stop. Stop. it’s ok.. It was just a surprise is all. It’s actually kind of sweet.” He smiles at you as he dips his head back down to taste you again.

Your brain completely short circuits at that so you just let your head fall back and savor the feeling.

Frankie moves to the other side and you are actually whimpering from the feeling of his mouth alone. His hand goes back to work and tweaks the nipple of your now neglected breast while his tongue wraps around the other. He can’t get enough of the noises you’re making and he has to shift his lower body to take some pressure off of his rapidly growing erection that is currently pressed tightly against the front of his jeans.

You bring your hand up to card through his hair. Watching him work you over with his tongue. The sight is probably the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen up until this point and you feel another gush between your legs.

Frankie starts to shift his attention lower to just under your breast and makes his way down, kissing your belly with a look of pure joy on his face. His hand makes its way to the top of your leggings. His fingers play with the waistband before dipping underneath slightly. He looks up to you at this. Another question on his face asking if you’re still ok.

You nod quickly and he keeps his eyes on you as his fingers slowly reach underneath the thin fabric. His fingers lightly move across your hip bone, moving inward. He’s still looking at you when his fingers reach your center only to find your underwear completely soaked through. He has yet to touch you skin to skin, but you’re squirming and desperate for him to add even just a hint more pressure to your aching center. Your hand reaches down on top of his, adding to the pressure you so desperately need. “Shhhhhhh… shhhhhhhh… I’ve got you….”

-“Frankie??” You’re pleading with him to touch you as he moves his face back up to yours. He’s still looking at you as his touch increases, gauging your reaction. The more pressure he adds, the more his mouth opens, ready to swallow your moans as soon as they leave you.

You cry out when he finally pushes his middle finger up against your clothed clit and rubs lightly. Fuck, Tom never gave a shit about your needs when it came to sex. Maybe in the beginning, but rarely. You were always left to take care of it yourself after he passed out. Most of the time you wouldn’t even bother. But this is Frankie… so you let the thought of Tom fall away from your mind and focus solely on him and how he is making you feel.

You’re breathing increases and Frankie removes his hand to caress your cheek again. He laughs lightly at your frustration, your pleas— “No no no… Frankie please, please don’t stop…” make him smile up at you.

He takes his finger and pushes it up against your lips to shush you. “Let me take care of you bonita. I’ve got you ok? Just let me know if I need to stop.”

And at that, Frankie shifts to his knees and makes his way down your body. Kissing down between your breasts, over your shirt to your stomach, to just above the waistband of your leggings. Looking back up as he hooks his fingers into them and pulls down. He leaves your underwear in place —the light pink cotton darkened by your arousal. He rolls the thin material down and slowly takes off your shoes one by one as he removes your leggings completely.

Once your legs are free, he wedges himself between them, kissing up the inside of your thighs starting at your knee. He slowly makes his way up from your right leg, across the top of your underwear and then back down your left. Every touch of his lips on your skin has your hips arching up of their own accord.

“So impatient, Querida.” He tsks. “Trust me, I’m going to savor every bit of you.” You’re dizzy with his words so you just nod and lay back. You do trust him, so you let him take control and try to slow your breathing.

Frankie reaches up and laces his fingers with yours, holding you in place as he finally, buries his face between your legs. He breathes in deeply, and lets out a shaking moan. “God, you smell so fucking good….” the last word ending with a whine. He still holds your hand, but uses his other to gently pull your underwear up between his fingers. Pulling it tightly up against your swollen clit a few times, before moving it completely to the side, exposing you to his hungry mouth.

Frankie said he was going to savor you and he meant it. He is going so painfully slowly, when all you want is for him to put your clit in his mouth. Instead, he is breathing you in, rubbing the scruff of his cheeks against you. The feeling of his facial hair against your over-sensitive skin makes you almost growl.

He’s teasing you, but only to add to the anticipation of what is to come.

Finally, finally his tongue peeks out of his mouth and lightly runs up your soaked seam, from your dripping entrance to your clit. “Oh my GOD….Frankie???” Your pleas turn into whispered praises.. “Francisco, oh… mierda. Si…”

You let out a string of nonsense in English and Spanish and Frankie just chuckles to himself as he continues. Your accent becomes thicker as you lose yourself, that you honestly don’t even realize you’re saying anything. Flattening out his tongue, he gently lays it on your clit and starts moving his head in a circular motion. Dipping down every so often, bringing more of your arousal up to your peak.

Your pussy has him feeling drunk. Your sweet musky taste, like water to his parched mouth. He drinks you in, your pussy already so fucking wet, his head spins with it. He can’t believe he’s getting to taste you like this. He’s known how he’s felt about you for a long time, but to actually be here? With your fucking pussy in his mouth? Fuck, he thinks he could come just from the thought.

Frankie kisses up your seam slowly, kissing every inch and finally leaving a kiss on your clit before sitting back and looking up at your face. You look every bit the mess that you sounded like… Your forehead is damp, your hair sticking to the side of your face. You’re looking at him now with a confused look… Why did you stop? sitting on your lips. —He just smiles and brings himself forward, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He pulls away quickly and moves back down, hooking his fingers under the band of your underwear and ripping them down your legs.

He takes your right leg and pushes it up, bending your knee so your foot is flat on the bed.

He then takes your other leg and hitches it over his shoulder. You settle your foot on his back, pulling him closer to you. He immediately takes his fingers and makes a V shape, running it from your clit all the way down, squishing your lips together and back up again. He takes a moment and sucks your clit into his mouth at the top of the V of his fingers. You could almost cry at how good it feels.

“More Frankie, please, please…..” You need to feel something inside you… This entire time, Frankie hasn’t breached your entrance, even with his tongue and you’re getting desperate.

He knows what he’s doing, but he wants to hear you tell him. “What do you need, querida? Tell me what you need.”

“Need to feel you. Need you inside me, Frankie please.

“Yes ma’am..” And at that you feel him drag his index finger from the top of your clit, down, down, down until gently pushing into your weeping sex.

“Oh, oh fuck.” Your words come out in a gasp as he resumes his place at your clit, wrapping his lips around it while slowly pushing in and out of you. You are wrapped so tightly around his finger, that he’s hesitant to add another, but your moans of more, more have him lightly testing the addition of another.

The feeling of his mouth on you while simultaneously fucking his fingers into your throbbing core has you almost flailing on the bed. Your hands spread wide on either side of you, your leg wrapping around Frankie’s head, you worry that you're going to hurt him, but he’s humming encouragingly into your pussy so you take it as a sign he’s ok. Finding his head with your hands, you grip his hair and slowly move him up and down. Frankie is just as affected by the action as you are.. “Fuck yes baby, use me,” comes his garbled reply.

If you weren’t so close to going over the edge, his words would have you blushing like a virgin. But if anything, right now it only spurs you on and you shudder against him.

Frankie can tell you’re close, just by your whimpers and how you’re practically grinding his face into you. He curls his fingers up and focuses on the little spongy area there, while sucking your clit into his mouth again, using the flat of his tongue to rub side to side. Your grip on his hair tightens to the point of actual pain, but he loves it - loves knowing that it's his mouth and his fingers that are doing this to you. You arch up and your orgasm hits you hard… Flooding Frankie’s mouth with your slick and almost crying at the intense feeling. Frankie works you through it. Slowly moving his fingers in and out as you come down. His tongue is barely there, but still lapping at you, the feeling adding to the aftershocks and you are shaking with it.

When the clenching slows, he slowly withdraws his fingers. He holds them up above you so you can see your slick dripping as he spreads them in the air. Then he brings his fingers to his mouth and moans as he sucks them clean.

Frankie scoots up, coming to your side and running his hand over your belly lightly. You turn to him and he’s looking down at you, “that ok hermosa? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You laugh at that, because you’re sure you may have actually ripped out some of his hair. “No Frankie, you didn’t hurt me. That was… mmmmm..” He kisses you and you hum lightly into his mouth. You’re completely sated for the moment, but his kisses are quickly becoming more frantic.

The heat in your lower belly begins to stir and your hands start to wander. Reaching down you just barely lift his shirt, grazing the soft skin of his stomach. You’re still technically clothed from the waist up, but so far the only thing Frankie has taken off is his jacket. You grab the hem and lift up. Frankie helps you by sitting up and pulling his shirt over his head. His chest is bare, save for a little patch of hair in the center of his chest and a line of hair leading underneath his navel down to his jeans. He leans back down and kisses you again, his tongue begging for entrance to your mouth and you let it.

Frankie’s hand trails up and down your sides, reaching down and grabbing a handful of your ass as he pulls you toward him and brings your leg over his hip. He starts to walk his fingers down the back of your thigh, then brings it back up to play with the swollen lips of your pussy from behind.

He swallows your gasp and moans into your mouth, still toying with your puffy lips.

You start to kiss down his cheek, down to his jaw and behind his ear, nibbling on his earlobe a little bit, which gets you a growl of pleasure out of him. He leaves your backside, opting to grip your thigh for leverage as he lets you take control. You slowly move down his throat until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder where you lightly suck, leaving behind a couple of bright red spots that you secretly hope he’s able to see tomorrow.

You run your lips down to his collarbone and you take your time there. Licking up and around, before kissing down the hollow of his throat. Frankie is still gripping your leg, tightening his hold and squeezing fingerprints into your thigh with every pass of your tongue. His breathing has increased and when you look up at him, his eyes are on you. His pupils are blown wide and his cock is throbbing, but he wants to see you like this. He wants to see you navigate his body and see what you do with it, without interference.

You take a moment to reach up and kiss his mouth again. His eyes close immediately and he just breathes you in. Your scent is everywhere. In the air, in his nose, on his tongue and subsequently yours. He nips your bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth, before you pull away and tap his nose with the tip of your finger… He tries to bite it, but you quickly pull away only to slowly move it down to his chest. You toy with the soft patch of hair there before lightly drawing lines across him, moving to circle a nipple, then the other. Now that gets a reaction, and his whole body shudders as goosebumps cover his chest. You lightly scrape your nail across his sensitive skin, back to his left nipple before replacing your finger with your mouth, flicking it with your tongue and Frankie groans “fuck, beautiful…. You’re killing me..”

—You just wink at him before blowing slightly, making the pebbled flesh tighten to a hard peak. Frankie huffs a shaky breath, and you are enjoying his reactions just as much as performing the acts themselves. You want to see what else you can pull out of him, so you kiss across his chest and pull his other nipple into your mouth, giving it the same attention as the first. Slowly circling with your tongue and giving it a quick kiss at the tip. His hands move to your hair and lightly comb through it with his fingers. He loves feeling you like this — knowing you’re in control and he’s just along for the ride.

You continue to kiss down his abdomen, his tummy soft, and you start rubbing your nose through the light dusting of hair there before you follow the trail down to the top of his jeans. Your hands have also started their own exploration; running up and down his thighs, moving up to his side and watching his abdomen shake with how sensitive the skin there is. You make a mental note to see how ticklish he is, should you get the chance to be this close to him again. For now though, you want to make him feel as good as he made you feel. You scoot down slightly, and begin trying to work the button of his jeans with your fingers before his hands stop you. Confusion showing on your face as you look up to him; “you don’t have to do this querida..”

—You quickly reach up and put your finger to his lips, “Frankie, shhhhhhh…. I want to do this. I want to make you feel good”. -You were going to kill him with just your words alone. You had no idea how they affected him.

“I want to taste you. Will you let me Frankie? Can I taste you?” — He’s a fucking goner… Frankie is sure he just fucking died and went to Heaven and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

All he does is nod with his mouth slack jawed and his cock begging for attention just underneath your hands.

You slowly start working the button of his jeans, lightly fingering the line of his zipper with your index finger all the way down between his legs —teasing him, purposely trying to torture him, but in the best possible way.

You walk your fingers back up the now very prominent outline of his length, to get to the zipper and slowly unzip him the rest of the way. You do to him what he did to you and you pull his jeans down just a little bit, running your hand over his boxers, but just barely. Lightly running your fingertips from the base of his clothed cock, up to the tip, you scratch the head ever so gently and Frankie actually gasps for air at the feeling. “Oh fuck!”

You feel wetness at the tip and see a small wet spot. Without thinking about it, you reach over and flick your tongue over the top, tasting the salty precum and moaning at the warmth radiating through his boxers.

—Almost instantly Frankie’s hands are in your hair, pulling it back slightly and tucking a stray piece behind your ear as your tongue continues to lick at him. Your saliva only adding to the growing wet patch in the fabric. His breathing quickens and his body is almost shaking.. you finally decide to show him some mercy by ripping down the waistband of his boxers and jeans and enveloping his cock in your wet mouth without warning.

“Ohhhh shit.”

“Shit. shit!! Oh my God baby, fuck… your mouth… fuck, you’re so pretty. Pretty fucking mouth….” — He’s sputtering complete nonsense… half sentences full of praise and absolute filth.. You love it—

You slowly lap at the underside of his cock, making your way down to the base and back up again. There’s another drop of precum at the tip and you want to taste it, but instead you grip him in hand and rub the tip with your thumb— the slick making your swipes smooth back and forth. Now you come up and taste him. His musky scent has your mouth watering, saliva pooling under your tongue. You let it drip from your tongue onto his tip and stroke up and down with your hand. “Holy shit….” comes Frankie’s gravelly voice, unaware that he was still watching you. But you basically spitting on his cock has Frankie looking absolutely feral.. His pupils are black yet again and you think ‘how many times can they do that before they pop out of his head??’

“Was that alright?”

All he does is nod and you smirk up at him before slowly diving back down onto his cock -keeping eye contact the entire time. His mouth drops open, but his eyes never leave yours, his cock like steel in your hand.

You keep up the pace, bobbing up and down slowly, stopping occasionally and licking at the sensitive spot on the underside of his cock that makes his eyes squeeze shut and he moans out curses in Spanish almost every time.

—Your left hand trails up his leg and reaches inward, grazing over the soft skin of his inner thigh before reaching his balls, your touch pulling a hoarse groan and more curses from Frankie. Your right hand is now pumping the base of him that you can’t fit into your mouth while you continue sucking and kissing at his tip.. The words coming out him now make you hum to spur him on. No real train of thought, just praises and whatever is coming into his head at the moment;

—“Fuck…. Fuck baby… Could live with your mouth on me, God…. can’t fucking wait to feel you. Fuck… Want you to ride me… wanna watch your perfect tits bounce while I fuck you…” The words leave his mouth in such a rush, that you’re not sure if he’s truly talking to you or if he’s just thinking out loud. His eyes are still closed and his breathing has increased. You could probably finish him with not much more effort, but you’ve been aching to feel his cock inside of you, so you slow your movements.

Frankie checks in at the sudden shift in speed. You pull your mouth off of him and nod slowly. You lean forward and kiss him, continuing to pump him with your hand. You slowly maneuver your body over him —as easily as you can with your belly at its current size anyway— and position yourself above his cock. The tip red and swollen, weeping precum from how close you had gotten him with your mouth. Frankie finally realizes what’s happening and his eyes shoot open and find your face. “I… are you sure?”

“I’m sure Frankie. I want to feel you.”

—“Come ‘ere…” Frankie surges up and captures your lips. You use the movement to help steady you as you line him up with your entrance. You breathe out slowly into his mouth and you both moan loudly as you sink yourself down onto him. You go slow, to allow yourself time to adjust to his size. Tom hadn’t been small, but Frankie is definitely thicker and you want to savor the feeling of being stretched out by him.

Frankie’s hands are on your waist now, eyes closed and just feeling you as you slowly pull him in all the way until you feel his coarse hairs against your clit. “Oh my… Oh my God Frankie…. Oh…. Fuck.” You start to move, rocking your hips slowly in a circular motion.

—“Yes, fuck, you feel so good. I’m, I'm not gonna last…. fuck..”

Your hips move faster, finding a back and forth rhythm as your hands land on Frankie’s chest… nails scraping down, grabbing for purchase to try to keep your body upright.

His hands on your waist are almost bruising now with how tightly he’s gripping you… moving you, grinding himself into you….

His right hand winds around to your back and he almost sits up, burying his face in your breasts. Your back is damp with sweat, but he holds tightly… putting his right hand behind him on the bed to prop himself up. You hold his head to you and kiss his forehead, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving with him. This angle has him hitting so deep inside you, your breathing is coming in broken moans and your toes are curling. You’re coming almost instantly when you feel him reach between you, finding your clit and rubbing in smooth circles with his fingers. His hips stuttering, trying to find his own release, but wanting you to come again first. There are tears running down your cheeks from the sheer intensity and you cry out. Your walls are contracting around him so hard that it’s only seconds before he’s following you… painting the inside of your pussy with his warm come and panting nonsense into your mouth as you both try to even out your breathing. He’s kissing you again, but slowly… toying with your tongue languidly as he comes back down to earth. His cock softens inside you, and you just stay. Neither one of you ready to pull apart just yet.

—Frankie starts to rub his face against your breasts, pausing to kiss between them. He takes a nipple into his mouth and just holds it there.. his tongue slowly lapping up what you’re sure has been leaking since you started earlier.

You run your fingers through his damp hair, trailing to the back of his neck and scratching lightly at his scalp. His eyes stay closed and he hums, enjoying the feeling. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so relaxed in his life… never more at peace than just holding you like this.

—He never wants to let go.

Before long though, you feel him start to tense slightly, but he’s made no move to break apart from you. You think the high has begun to wear off and the gravity of your situation is hitting him…. As it is you.

Where do you go from here? There’s no plan in place… There’s no straight path from here, that brings you back together again. You know that once you leave this space, leave Him, that there’s no telling when or if you’ll get to see him again. You pull him tighter to your chest as the realization yet again washes over you. New tears fall freely down your cheeks and you just hold onto him. Frankie… who has done so much for you, who has made you feel more like a real person in the short months you’ve known him than you’ve felt in your entire life.

—You pray for an answer, a solution that you desperately hope ends with you being free to be with the other.

You feel Frankie lean down and kiss the top of your belly. The act so endearing to you; What you miss though, is Frankie whispering a prayer of his own. A prayer to keep you safe and a promise that he would find a way to be with you again. Both of you.

—

Taglist: @boliv-jenta @heythere-mel @hnt-escape @harriedandharassed @just-here-for-the-moment @something-tofightfor @readingiskeepingmegoing @bitchwitch1981 @sunnysidekit @littlemisspascal @queridopascal-main @dashavau @imaswellkid @quica-quica-quica @mymo-n @wildemaven @pastelnap @tanzthompson @jb2856

A/N: There are definitely some flow issues with this one, but I kept getting stuck. Hopefully it wasn’t too awful to get through, but I appreciate any and all feedback, just be kind. I also wouldn’t mind an extra beta if anyone is interested, on top of my girl @just-here-for-the-moment who’s been with me through this since the beginning. Thank you all!

#frankie x reader #frankie x you #frankie x female reader #frankie x f!reader #frankie morales/reader #frankie morales imagine #frankie 'catfish' morales #francisco catfish morales x f reader #francisco morales #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier au #triple frontier fic #frankie morales fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #amaryllis #amaryllis chapter 6

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violetsaffron5 · 1 year

Text

Infinity

8 | Mandrills

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Summary:

Spending some quality time with Geto

words: 4031

It’s not even been a week and you find yourself in yet another bar. This one is quieter, classier than the last. The lights are dim and the music playing is low, just loud enough to hear amidst the conversation happening between friends and lovers.

You’re sitting at the bar sipping on your cocktail, looking over the room, watching as couples laugh and lean into one another, trying to make out what’s being said from the low rumble filling the small space.

You’re wearing a floor length black Versace dress paired with a dainty diamond necklace; this ensemble costs more than a year’s rent. It’s certainly not what you expected to be doing or wearing on a Thursday night.

No, tonight you planned on staying in after having spent the last few nights hanging out with Shoko and Satoru. Rest and relaxation. You were looking forward to it.

That is until Geto showed up at your door unannounced, dress bag and shoes in hand telling you to get changed and you two were going out for some quality time. Whatever that means.

So, you’re here. Sitting awkwardly next to the man in question who has his raven hair pulled all the way back into a neat bun, a suit you’re sure is just as expensive as your dress, drinking his own cocktail.

“So… what are we doing here?” Geto wouldn’t say where you were going, and you’re not familiar enough with Tokyo to even know if you’re still in the city, though you’d venture to guess probably not since it took an hour to get to this location.

“Just wanted to have a little chat among other things.”

“Ok, well, I’m here,” you chuckle awkwardly, “not sure why we couldn’t have hung out at my place or even at the -”

“Do you think you can be monogamous with your… abilities?” Suguru asks, swirling the dark liquor in his glass around the large round ice cube.

You’re taken back by his sudden line of questioning. This is something you would expect Shoko or Utahime to ask, but not Geto. He’s always been kind, albeit fairly quiet when you’re around.

“Uhh, yeah. I think so. I mean, it hasn’t really been a problem so far.”

Sure there have been wants, urges, wondering how someone’s hands would feel on your body when you go out, but it hasn’t been anything more than that. Satoru has helped keep your hunger in check which helps greatly minimize these desires, keeps things less overwhelming.

“Mm. Good point,” he begins, side eyeing you, “when Satoru tells you he’s meeting with the higher ups, he’s really meeting with other women to hookup. The higher ups only meet a few times a year or when anything interesting comes up. Like you.”

You shake your head and blink several times, trying to take in everything he just told you. “Um. Okay, thanks… I guess.” Clenching your jaw, you take another sip of your drink, the weight of what Suguru just said causing a heavy lump to form in the center of your chest.

“Awe, don’t be sad.” He coos after a few moments, giving a weak smile, “there was never a chance he was going to settle down, let alone with someone who’s barely even human.”

“I’m not sad,” you defend, “I’m just…”

Honestly, you’re not sure. Maybe it’s all true and you’ve been reading a little too much into what’s been going on between you and Satoru. He’s flirty, “nice to everyone,” as Shoko put it once. It’s not like you’re expecting a commitment from him, at the end of the day, he is just helping you out, but honesty would be nice.

“You’ll never be more than a good fuck. That’s just how he operates.” You’re not looking at Suguru, but you can hear a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Ok, Geto. I got it. Thanks.” You snap at him.

A lot of it is mindless self-indulgent sex; Satoru getting the rush of adrenaline when you siphon his energy, you being able to feed without waking up next to a cold body. It’s addicting, he’s addicting - the endless amounts of stamina on nights that never seem to end, and you don’t want them to; the way his body feels pressed against your own as he’s pounding into you so hard you’re convinced he’s trying to split you in half, and how after he’s kissing you tenderly, sweetly, afterward telling you how beautiful you look, how amazing you are.

There’s also an undeniable chemistry shared between the two of you. Sure, he might not tell you the ins and outs of his life, but you do know he’s creative, reliable, makes you laugh more than you ever have before, annoys you more than anyone ever has before. But you don’t mind, not really.

Geto isn’t giving you a lot of time to dwell on it before he’s standing, motioning for you to take his arm. You give a weak smile, placing your drink on the counter, looping your arm through his wondering where you’re off to now.

He leads you down a hall you’re sure you’re not allowed to be in, taking you down a flight of stairs to a basement. The hall is dark, dingy and dirty, very different from the pristine and clean environment you were just in.

“We’re here for a mission,” Geto says quietly before reaching the bottom of the stairs. “Follow my lead.”

“What is the largest monkey in the world?” A voice asks from behind a closed door, and you’re taken aback by the odd line of questioning presented to you, yet again.

“Mandrills.” Geto replies easily through an eyeroll, like he doesn’t quite believe that answer.

The door clicks, having been unlocked before opening, allowing the two of you in, down another dimly lit corridor.

“If we’re on a mission, why are we in such expensive clothes? I mean, won’t this get ruined?”

Suguru stops, just short of another door at the end of the hall, turning to face you. “There’s a dress code for places like this. I can’t have you coming in here wearing,” he stops to look you up and down, a scowl on his face, “what you normally wear.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You seethe, wondering just what kind of mission this could be and what it entails, and why he’s choosing to be such a dick to you tonight.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he opens the door, motioning for you to enter before him. And whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this.

“Are we… playing poker?” You ask incredulously.

“You are playing blackjack, and you need to win so I have a shot at collecting a cursed tool.” He’s whispering, keeping his voice down so the others around don’t hear as the two of you walk around between the tables that had been set up for tonight.

You’re not replying to him, taking in the words he’s said but not really understanding why you have to play a part in this little mission.

Each table is set up with a dealer, getting the tables ready for guests to sit at, all wearing tuxes. The other guests, you presume, are all dressed to the nines - just as you are - showcasing their wealth by flaunting top of the line name brand attire and jewelry. The room is small, and even though there are less people down here than upstairs, it sounds just as loud, the low murmur of everyone talking at one time.

Geto sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose, stopping in a little vacant section of the room, “the pet,” you raise an eyebrow as he points to you, “will be playing the first round. If the pet wins, then their master gets to move onto the second round. We both need to win in order to get our hands on the cursed tool.”

“So, it’s some sort of fucked up blackmarket.”

“No cursed energy or abilities allowed either, so you need to be discreet. No pulling the shit you did at the club when Satoru and Nanami were there and making it obvious.”

A man walks over, tall, skinny, in a suit that doesn’t look like anything special, but likely costs more than your dress and asks for your name. He gives a kind smile, offering his hand to lead you to the table you’re set to play the game at.

“One more thing,” Suguru stops you before you can take the man's hand and walk away, “the higher ups have asked for this mission to remain… quiet. So no speaking about it with anyone.” You nod your head before pursing your lips.

As you walk away you could swear you heard Geto quietly say, “and make sure you win. Satoru would kill me if you get sold off.” You furrow your brows turning back to the raven haired man mouthing “what the fuck?” before he shrugs and walks off, leaving you to your own devices.

You’re seated between two men, who are also set to play against you. You give them a warm smile and wave, as they smile back to you. They seem nice enough. It’s just a game of blackjack afterall, simple, easy.

One where people are sold off at the end. No big deal at all.

The cards are shuffled in front of you as the dealer explains that only one of you will be the winner, but of course there’s the possibility of all three of you losing, and in that case nobody will move forward into the next round. And just for them to add a little curve and anxiety to the mix, the only way to lose is to go over 21, anyone under will remain in the game until either everyone has gone over or a clear winner has been indicated.

There’s not much you can do here in terms of your abilities, you tried to learn to count cards when you were younger, living on your own, but you never quite got the hang of it, so you’re really truly banking on good luck.

“So, uh, what’s the prize tonight?” You ask curiously since Geto didn’t really give too much information.

Your opponents give a quizzical look before one of them says, “wow, you haven’t been told much, have you?”

You shake your head, it’s the truth, you’re working off minimal details, “no. We play poker at home, and I’m pretty good at it. He thought I’d be beneficial with his… endeavors tonight.” A lie, but they don’t need to know that.

“It’s a three piece staff, called Playful Cloud.” You nod your head, never heard of it, but it must be special if the higher ups are looking to add it to the schools collection.

The dealer has laid out all the cards, the man to your right passes his turn. You have 15 and take the risk to hit, as does the man to your left. After the additional cards have been dealt, you’re at 18, and choose to pass, not wanting to risk going over, while the man to your left hits again.

After those cards have been dealt, everyone shows their hand; the dealer is at 22, the man on the left is at 24, to the right, 20, and you’re at 18. One person out, a slight weight has been lifted. Just you and the other man remaining now.

Returning your cards, the dealer shuffles again before passing two to each of you once again. You’re only at 5, so you hit again, the man to your right does the same. This happens for a few more turns, each of the card numbers you’re getting are low, bringing your current total to 12.

Humming to yourself, you decide to try something, to see if you can figure out where he stands. Trailing a finger on the fabric of the suit the man next to you is wearing, feeling the soft, smooth silky fabric under your index finger, and leaning in just slightly closer to him.

“You know,” your voice is slow, sultry, “I really do love a man in a suit.”

He side-eyes you with a grin, just before your finger touches the skin of his neck he answers, “me too,” and gives a wink. You smile back, a slight pout on your lips before returning to your seat normally, asking the dealer to hit again. You could attempt to use your powers on him, but it’s best to not draw attention, like Geto pointed out earlier, so you leave it for now.

Neither the dealer nor your opponent take a card this time; you’re not entirely sure you want to flip over the card on the table you were just given, a knot forming in your stomach. You don’t look at the card, too nervous about the way this could end - you’ll just have to believe in the heart of the cards, or whatever the saying is.

You nod and everyone reveals their hands; 18, 23, 27.

You sigh a breath of relief, not really sure if what Suguru said was true, that you’d be sold off, but you sure as hell didn’t want to fuck around and find out when you’re attending a very illegal underground blackjack game as is. You stand on shaky legs, clenching and unclenching your fists, just now noticing how sweaty they had gotten during that encounter, how nervous you were, especially at the end.

The two men you were playing with tell you congratulations and stay behind, you don’t look back. You don’t want to even think about the consequences of them losing.

You’re led to a locker room where Suguru stands shirtless, only in his black dress pants, removing the belt around his waist. He doesn’t look up when you walk in, barely acknowledges your presence.

You look him over, shoulders slightly more muscular and broad than Satoru’s, with a dragon tattoo covering his back with the tail ending at the wrist of his right hand. It’s very well done, traditional, black and white aside from the purple eyes. He’s just as toned and defined as Satoru, just as attractive. You clear your throat and swallow thickly in an attempt to distract yourself.

“Are the “pets” really going to be sold, or were you just saying that?” You take a seat at the bench across from him, crossing your legs and folding your arms over your chest, watching as he neatly folds his shirt and rolls his belt before placing them inside one of the lockers.

“Not sure. It’s what I heard. Thought it might give you a little push to win.”

He’s sitting on the bench across from you, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck as he explains what’s going to happen next. He’s going to be bare-knuckle fighting in cage matches, this could go on all night but he needs you to manipulate the rounds, get him in sooner, less fights. And when it’s all said and done, you need to leave quickly before your abilities wear off and anyone suspects the two of you of foul play. At least not before he gets the weapon in his hands.

He gives you a gentle smile, one you’ve seen too many times from him. And all the sudden it looks more fake than it ever has before. Suguru has been incredibly hot and cold to you tonight, more than you’ve ever seen and you’re wondering if he’s insane. Satoru can be bad, going from jovial to serious in the blink of an eye but this is beyond that. This is something else.

You hum, giving a weak smile - how are you supposed to respond to something like aside from being pissed off that he lied to you. That this whole night has been nothing but a lie.

It doesn’t matter, because you’re following him out of the small locker room into another equally small room with a wire cage set up in the middle. The space is filled to the brim with people, more than you’ve seen in any bar or club you’ve ever been to. It’s louder in here, people with drinks in their hands, being rowdy, boisterous laughter and yelling coming from all directions.

Suguru points in the general direction of where you’ll find the person in charge of organizing the bouts - you have a job to do, so you do your best to push down all the stress and anxiety you were just feeling a moment prior, pushing and squeezing your way past people until you reach your destination.

There’s a lone man sitting at a table organizing several names in front of him, there’s likely a method to his madness - luckily for you, he’s doing it rather old school, with a whiteboard that has brackets drawn onto it, and he’ll tape the names in each space to show everyone’s position and who they’ll be fighting next.

From the distance you’re at, you can barely make out Suguru’s name on his list, towards the bottom, likely because the two of you just showed up to compete not that long ago.

“Hi,” you’re yelling, making your presence known in the sea of people you’re in. He turns to you, looking you quickly up and down, returning the smile before going to place some of the names on the board.

“What’s your name?” You’re watching as he adds the names to each of the brackets, Suguru indeed being one of the last, with several rounds set to go before him.

The man answers, you’re not really listening, watching from the corner of your eye as he takes a seat. With his back turned, you grab Suguru’s name, and the second name from the second set of brackets and switch them quickly, trying not to make what you just did totally obvious to anyone.

He doesn’t seem to notice, instead you sit next to him as he makes small talk, asks if you’ve been here before, done anything like this in the past. All of your answers are lies, trying to make yourself seem as seasoned as possible.

It doesn’t take long for the first round to get started. It’s two men, both you’re unfamiliar with, in the cage with a referee. When they start, you opt to not pay much attention to them, after all, you’ve seen people throw plenty of punches over the last few months, thrown plenty yourself when training and fighting curses.

You continue to talk to the man, doing your best to keep his attention on you. It doesn’t take a lot, he’s leaning into you, answering your silly little questions, telling you the ins and outs of his job.

And then it’s Suguru’s turn. You do watch this fight, having never seen him in action before. He stands tall, taller than his opponent but only by a few inches, more muscular too. If he wasn’t being such an ass tonight, you’d say he looks like an angel with the way the dim light is cascading over his muscles, highlighting his features in just the right way, showing all the sharp edges.

Suguru’s fist immediately cracks the jaw of his opponent - you could hear it as it happened, even over the crowd. They’re both throwing punches, but Suguru is easily able to dodge, bouncing from toe to toe as he absolutely pummels his opponent into the floor. For a brief second, you’re not even sure his opponent is even alive until someone else is helping him stand, removing him from the cage as Suguru watches with a cat-like grin that matches his eyes.

The matches all go quickly, you’re laughing with the man who is organizing the names, channeling your energy into him, persuading where to put names.

He listens, leaning into your touch every time you make contact with him. Your annoyance at Suguru and the mission grows more and more each round as you keep using your powers on the poor soul sitting next to you, more and more annoyed with each time he leans over, hands on your thigh trying to make a move. You place a finger to his lips each time, telling him “not now,” hoping he doesn’t realize that time will never come.

It’s the final round, finally. The matches went by quickly, though it still took several hours. You’ve heard enough bones crunching, skulls being knocked into the mat, teeth shatter, blood and spit spilling everywhere to be ready to call it a night.

Suguru is in the ring again, laughing like a maniac as he dips and dodges his opponent’s punches and kicks. He’s received several across his body and to his face during his matches, his lip bloodied and jaw swollen. He’ll need to go see Shoko no doubt in order to heal up.

You briefly wonder what kinds of questions she would ask about his wounds, or if these are something she’s used to seeing him with.

You’re not left wondering for long, because you hear the referee blow his whistle, yelling something about “illegal” moves while pulling the two men off of each other. Watching intently, it appears the referee is conferring with several others, likely trying to decide how to call the match.

You’re not sure what this was called for, but it was very likely because of Suguru, judging by the smug grin he has plastered on his face as he eyes you walking over to the cage, near the referee waiting for him to finish his current conversation.

When he’s done, you’re reaching your hand into the cage, caressing the ankle of the referee before he has a chance to make the call, he looks down to you, furrowed eyebrows, curious as to what you could want. Using your index finger, you motion for him to bend down, and of course he does, you’ve been using your energy on him from the moment you touched him.

“I think Suguru won this round, don’t you think so too?” Your voice is hardly a whisper, breath caressing the shell of his ear. He looks to you, eyes wide and nods his head as you bite your lip and whisper a barely audible “yeah.”

The man stands, moving towards the center of the ring where Suguru and his opponent stand bloodied, waiting on the results of the match.

“And the winner is… Suguru!” The crowd has mixed emotions, where half of them seem to erupt in cheers, the other half seem to be booing at the announcement.

You don’t wait around to see Suguru’s reactions, you’ve turned on your heel, looking to make a quick getaway before a certain hot and horny man comes to find you, either pissed you used your abilities when it was against the rules or looking to have a good time that you’re really not all that interested in.

You leave, getting in the nearest cab you could find. Fuck Geto, fuck this mission. He can do all of the damn paperwork, especially if it’s as secretive as he claims it needs to stay.

Instead, you’re dialing Satoru’s number, annoyed and angry at Suguru for putting you in these positions tonight. You don’t expect Satoru to do anything about it - it’s already happened, but you need to vent and maybe even relieve some stress - something Satoru is very good at helping you accomplish, but he doesn’t answer. As soon as you hang up the call, a text comes through.

Satoru: Can’t talk, about to meet with the higher ups

A wry chuckle leaves your lips after reading his message. It’s well past midnight, there’s no way those old fuckers are meeting at this time of night.

Taking a deep breath you lay your head on the back of the seat as the driver takes you home. You let your mind wander, to what Geto said at the beginning of the night, everything he said about Satoru. And it hurts more than it should, more than you want it to, so you decide maybe it’s for the best if you don’t tell Satoru about tonight after all.

Taglist: @z33sblog @thisbicc @q-the-rockaholic @septembersums @septembersummer @nothisispatrick300 @km7474 @missyasma @greenlovers @naorizenin @a1hina @plants-w0rld

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chelseachilly · 1 year

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king of my heart - pt 9

don’t read the last page but i stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: in the aftermath of you and ben’s fight, you call your mum for some much-needed comfort and guidance warnings: none :) word count: 1.9k

see my masterlist for previous chapters

You’re sobbing so hard you can barely see straight by the time you make it inside your flat, hastily tearing off your rain-soaked clothing and changing into pyjamas.

You peer into Charlotte’s room, but there’s nobody there, so she must be working or at Mason’s.

Every harsh word Ben said to you replays in your mind as you pace the hardwood floors.

For the first time since you moved to London, you find yourself incredibly homesick. All you want is to be curled up by the fireplace with your parents and brother, chatting and listening to music or watching football, knowing everything will be alright.

But your dad is gone and your mum and brother are two hours away in your hometown. You have to work in the morning, and it’s too late to drive there and back in one night.

Desperately needing some comfort, you dial your mum’s number and are relieved when she picks up right away.

“Y/N, dear, is everything alright?” she asks.

You feel guilty that you don’t call her enough - you were closer with your dad growing up, but she’s still your mother. She’s always supported you in every way she can, even in the midst of her own grief when your dad died.

“I-I don’t know,” you answer shakily. “Ben and I got into a big fight.”

You’ve updated her via the odd text about how Ben’s been doing since the injury, but she doesn’t know all the details or the emotional toll it’s been taking on both of you.

“About what, love?”

“He thinks I’m being overprotective,” you say. “Honestly, it’s probably more that he’s scared about what’s gonna happen and projecting it on me, but he’s never spoken to me like that before.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” your mum says softly. “Are you back home now?”

It’s a complicated question - this flat never really felt like home to you, neither does London in general. Truthfully, the only place you ever truly felt at home since your father’s death was wherever you were with Ben.

But you know she means home in the physical sense, as in the place where you pay rent, so you answer accordingly.

“Yeah,” you respond. “I stormed out of there before I could say anything I would regret or before he could…”

You trail off, sitting down on your couch and burying your face in your hands.

“Before he could what, darling?”

“Before he could end things,” you answer honestly. “I…I’m so terrified of losing him, Mum. I love him so much, and after losing Dad, I just…I can’t lose anyone else.”

“Oh, darling, you’re not going to lose him,” your mum says soothingly. “From everything I’ve heard from you and your brother, he’s a good lad who loves and respects you. He may be hurting right now and saying things he doesn’t mean, but I’m certain he already regrets it.”

You let out a heavy sigh. You know that Ben loves and respects you, you just don’t know if it’s enough. This is a major life and career setback for him, it would be challenging for any couple to navigate, and the two of you have been together for less than six months.

“I don’t know, Mum,” you murmur. “What if he doesn’t want this anymore?”

Before your mother can answer, you hear a knock at your door.

“I’ve gotta go, there’s someone at the door.”

“Alright, just call me back later if you want to talk,” your mum says. “And honey, try not to worry too much. Ben loves you. I’m sure you’ll be alright.”

“Thanks, Mum,” you respond, hanging up the phone.

You have no idea who might be at the door, as Charlotte isn’t here and you aren’t expecting anyone, but you quickly wipe your tears away and march over to open it.

You definitely aren’t expecting to see Ben, soaked from the rain and standing on his crutches, looking even more distraught than you feel right now.

“Ben?”

Despite how angry you were with him less than an hour ago, you can’t help but crumble under his gaze.

“Y/N,” Ben breathes, his eyes scanning your tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “I am so sorry.”

You can tell how sincerely he means that - if his tone and mournful expression aren’t enough, the fact that he made his way over here in a rainstorm and on crutches certainly proves it.

“Ben,” you sigh. “It’s okay-“

“No, no, it’s not okay,” he objects, shaking his head. “It’s not okay for me to speak to you like that, not ever. I was taking my own shit out on you, and I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse for it.”

“I know you’re hurting, Ben,” you say softly. “I just need you to let me help you. I’m not trying to baby you or be too overbearing, I just-“

“You aren’t, babe, not at all,” Ben says quickly. “I’m so grateful for all your help, really. This would’ve been so much harder without you. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

You can see so much pain in his eyes, all of the stress of the past month weighing on him. You hate seeing him like this, you just want to make it go away.

He seems to be physically struggling, too, obviously feeling the pain of his premature workout today. He’s wobbling slightly on his crutches and his brow is furrowed.

“I understand if you need some time away from me after I was such a prick to you,” Ben continues. “I can just go-“

“You’re not going anywhere, come here,” you say softly, taking a step toward him and pulling him into your embrace. He can’t really hug you back properly with the crutches, but he buries his face in your neck and inhales your scent. You card your fingers through his hair for a moment and press a light kiss to his forehead before pulling away. “Go sit down on the couch, I’ll be right back.”

Ben obliges and makes his way over to your sofa, and you note the way he winces as he props his bad leg up on the sectional. You grab a few things from your bedroom and the kitchen before returning.

“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” you say, passing him a grey hoodie and joggers, both of which belong to him.

“You thief,” Ben chuckles. “You don’t have enough access to my clothes at my place? You had to hoard some here?”

“Well, it’s come in handy, hasn’t it?” you respond, helping him take off the trousers he already had on.

Once he’s all changed, you gently place an ice pack over his knee and give him some ibuprofen.

“Thank you so much, love,” Ben says, breathing a sigh of relief and leaning back against the cushions. He turns his head to face you and grabs you by the hand to pull you into a gentle kiss that makes your heart soar. “Again, I am so sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you murmur, squeezing his hand. “I know you didn’t mean it, and it’s been a tough time. I just want you to open up to me instead of keeping it all inside and blowing up like that.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I want to open up to you too, it’s just been…harder than usual.”

You nod, running your thumb over the back of his hand in a soothing motion and urging him to continue.

He’s never been shy about his feelings with you before, but obviously this time is different.

“I’m just scared,” he admits. “Some people never recover from injuries like this. And I’m so sick of missing all these important moments in my career because I’m out injured. It doesn’t feel fair.”

“It’s not fair,” you agree, your heart aching. “I’m so sorry you’re going through his, Benji, and you know I would take it all away if I could. But you’ll bounce back again, just like you have before. It just might take a bit longer than you’re used to.”

“Yeah,” Ben sighs. “You’re probably right. It’s just been a lot to take, you know?”

You reach out to cup his cheek, brushing away a stray tear that fell there. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Of course it has, baby,” you say. “Have you thought about making a therapy appointment?”

He hasn’t gone since the injury, and you know how important those sessions are for his well-being.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go next week,” he confirms, much to your relief.

“Okay, good,” you say with a small smile, curling a strand of his hair around your finger. He’s let it grow out slightly longer lately and hasn’t been using gel, as he’s been home most of the time, and you’re definitely a fan - you love running your hands through his soft waves. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, darling,” Ben smiles, staring at you with so much awe in his eyes. “God, I don’t deserve you.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Don’t be silly, Ben, of course you do.”

“Not a chance.”

“Ben-“

“I don’t, and you’re not allowed to argue with me about it anymore because I’m hurt and I get to play the injured boyfriend card, alright?”

You can’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of his argument, but you let him win nonetheless.

“Fine, any more demands from my poor injured boyfriend?” you ask playfully.

“Yes,” Ben says immediately, leaning in close and pressing a quick kiss to your lips with a cheeky smile on his face when he pulls back. “I want cuddles.”

You definitely won’t deny him that request. You promptly grab a blanket and throw it over both of you before settling into his side and draping one leg over his good one. His arms wrap around you as your head finds its place on his chest. A sigh of contentment leaves your lips as Ben begins to trace shapes over your back and press kisses to the crown of your head.

It feels so good to be intimate with him again after he’s been icing you out the past couple weeks. Not only have you missed his touch, but you’ve been yearning to comfort him and it’s been a challenge to give him space while he’s clearly hurting.

“How’s your knee feeling?” you ask after a couple minutes, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“It still hurts, but it’s faded a bit,” Ben says. “I guess I may have overdone it a bit today.”

“Hmm, maybe you should listen to your doctors and super-smart girlfriend more often?”

“Yes, yes, point taken,” Ben rolls his eyes. “I promise I will not work out again until I am cleared to do so.”

“Good boy,” you smile, ruffling his hair and pecking his nose. “I love you, Benji. And I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

Ben’s face melts with adoration for you, his eyes slightly watery as he looks into yours and nods.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you too.”

You spend the rest of the evening cuddled up like this, watching a film and enjoying the closeness that both of you have been desperately needing.

By the time Charlotte gets home, shortly after ten, you’re fast asleep and still wrapped up in each other on the sofa. She smiles at the sweet sight and leaves you be, draping one more blanket over your sleeping figures before retreating to her room.

yourusername via stories

benchilwell via stories

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yourusername moments at home with my boys 💙

tagged: benchilwell

max.yln Get well soon Chilly! And take care of him sis the club needs him back asap

yourusername Don’t worry I’m a pretty good nurse/chef/pillow-fluffer at this point

comment liked by benchilwell and 126 others

benchilwell Thanks bro! Come visit soon 😊

a/n: hope you enjoyed the return to our regularly scheduled fluff!! more struggles to come but loads more fluff as well ❤️

tagging: @xjval @majx00 @delicateearthquakellama @lunamelona @kenanlotus0 (let me know if you would like to be added to this list!)

next chapter 💙

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc imagine #komh

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forevfangirlwrites · 4 months

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play stupid games, win stupid prizes chapter 18

The next day is, thankfully, the last day before winter break. It’s maybe the only solace she has in all this is that at least she won’t have to be at school and around him for the next two weeks.

At least it was a good time to blow it all up, she thinks bitterly as she walks down the halls. There is no sign of Percy all morning, not by her locker or in the halls.

Math class brings trepidation because there’s no way they can avoid each other here right? And sure enough, he walks in a few seconds after the bell. She’s not supposed to look at him, and definitely not supposed to care, but she can’t help but notice the bags under his eyes and just how tired he looks. His shirt is rumpled and he just slumps into his seat without looking at anything else around him.

She turns quickly before he can notice that she was looking, but not looking doesn’t stop her mind from racing with thoughts. Why does he look so bad? Clearly this has affected him as much as her right?

It’s the first time she’s seen him since she told him she doesn’t care about him and walked away.

Maybe she actually had hurt him.

He’s the first to leave as soon as the bell rings and if there was any doubt left in her mind that everything was entirely messed up, this is proof it really has gone to shit.

She has a feeling he probably won’t show up to lunch either but even then she hesitates at the door of the cafeteria. After a whole day and a half of feeling like shit, she’s too exhausted to deal with much of anything, including the group.

Deciding to head to the library instead, she’s only a few steps in when the call of her name makes her turn around.

“Annabeth!” Connor walks up to her with a smile.

“Hey!” She tries to respond with the same energy and hopefully it works, she can’t really tell.

“Party at our place tomorrow night to celebrate the start of winter break, you’ll be there right?”

“Um…” The last thing she wants to do is go to a party. Then again, she doesn’t really know what she wants to do.

“Oh, come on! Piper is coming, I talked to her earlier.”

Well Piper will likely ask her to come with anyway. Maybe getting out of her house would be better than sitting in her room thinking about Percy (which is basically all she’d done last night.)

“Okay,” she relents after a second.

“Awesome! See you!”

She nods in response to his smile and looks up to see the librarian glaring at Connor as he walks out.

And though the situation is not the same, she can’t think about the first party Percy had goaded her into attending.

Stifling a groan, she dumps her bag on the table. Can this boy leave her mind for a single second? How is it even worse then when they were actually together?

-.-

As she had expected, Piper had been ready to ask her to come to the party when she’d cut off her friends pleading by saying she’d already accepted.

Piper had tried to hide her surprise, pivoting instead to getting her excited about the change of pace. She appreciates her attempts but honestly, she’d really only said yes so she’d be more effectively distracted from thoughts of Percy.

Thalia drives them and naturally the place is already full of people by the time they show up and of course she ends up losing both her friends in the first fifteen minutes.

KEEP READING ON AO3

#percabeth #percy and annabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth au #psgwsp

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 1 year

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dear bob...

summary: talking to the dead while trying to be there for the living.

WC: 969, hehe

warnings: a quick mention of b!ood, but this is cleared of everything else.

A/N: I WILL SAY IT TILL THE END OF TIME BOB NEWBY DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER THAN THAT ENDING THE DUFFERS GAVE HIM!!!!!! *honestly most of these might not be my best works, so just bare with if you read them*

also had to use my birthday as the first date, duh. it’s my birth month.

series masterlist

previous chapter next chapter

January 18, 1985

“Dear Bob Newby, Hawkins superhero.”

You were already getting choked up, but knew you had to push through.

“It’s only been two months since everything happened. Since Will’s episodes, they stopped by the way. Since you were at the lab, since the demo dogs, Dustin named them, since those creatures invaded the lab. Two months since you… anyway. Um… I’m still working at Radio Shack even though every day I step through those doors, I want to run back home. It doesn’t feel the same with you gone, besides I don’t have as much knowledge as you did.”

Your thumbs swiped over the black ink scrawled on the lined paper.

“Well, um in other news, Jonathan and I both have relationships. I’m not gonna go into it, but just wanted to let you know, we’re doing okay. But uh, mom, she’s uh… she says she’s fine, but I know she’s lying a bit. I hear her weeping at night, times when nightmares won’t get off my back and I head to the backyard for fresh air, I pass her room and faintly I hear the sniffles and occasional wet hiccup. It breaks my heart, ‘cause she deserved happiness, and you gave her that peace. I know she seemed hesitant at times, but she did love you, she loved the comfort you brought to our home. It was a nice change for once, no screaming or crying out of fear, but laughter and warmth. And I know Jonathan kinda seemed… guarded or just- what I’m saying is he’s just not used to trusting male figures, he’s- we’re all protective of our mom.”

You thought back to this morning, telling her you were gonna visit the cemetery. Asking if she would want to come with, seeing the hesitation in her eyes and body, how she stuttered out an excuse. She’s probably at work or just at home, sitting in the living room or laying in bed.

“I know you would want her to be happy though, want all of us to be happy. I hope she’ll get to be happy again, she was sad for too long and I don’t want to see her go through that again.”

The wind whistled through the trees, leaves waving in the background.

“I should… I should head back. I’ll try and see if she can come next time.”

You picked up your paper and tightened your scarf along your next, the bruising completely gone now. Loose strands of hair were played with the wind as you stood, taking a quick look around the quiet grounds.

With a hand placed atop the hard stone, a quiet “happy new year” goodbye, you left the ghostly grounds.

…

January 19, 2:15 AM

A nightmare.

A nightmare where Steve died at the hands of Billy. Every time you tried to intervene some force would hold you back, making you watch with leaking eyes and snot leaving your nostrils. And just before Billy makes his final blow, Steve would look your way, battered and bloodied face, but you can still make out his loving gaze and the faint hint of a smile on his lips. Then you just stared as the light left his eyes, then Billy would make his way to you, and you awoke before it got any further, but you got the gist.

Steve didn’t spend the night that day, so you weren’t saved by his warmth and comfort or an arm thrown over your waist as you buried your face into his neck. You were only greeted by the dark and coldness of your quiet room, shadows making you jumpy.

So you felt the shrinking room behind, wanting to call Steve, but you didn’t want to bother him especially since your relationship was still known. So instead of calling Steve you’ll just head outside and smoke something, hoping that will quell the nerves firing from your brain.

As you made your way down the dark hallway, you heard it again.

You heard the quiet sniffles, the moans of pain. She was crying again. And you hesitated outside her door, wondering if you should enter, but you both need comfort tonight if no one else can give it to you.

With a slow turning of the silver knob you pushed the wood door inch by inch, trying to stop the creaking from growing too loud. Her room was dark except for a small lamp on her bedside table, only shining Joyce in the yellow glow.

“Mom,” you whispered into the quiet night.

You saw as she tried to fix her appearance, wiping away any traces of tears, running a tissue under her nose, tucking her bangs behind her ears even though they slipped back into place. You took a step at a time, door closing behind you and leaving the both of you in a moment of privacy.

“Hi honey. Are you okay?” You could hear the rough edge in her voice.

You knew she would push you away if you mentioned anything about her, it’s something almost everyone in the Byers picked up from her, always putting others before yourself. So instead of coming to her as a friend, a shoulder to cry on, you went to her as a daughter, someone in need of comforting.

“I… I had a nightmare… about Steve, but I don’t want to bother him.” You wrung your hands together.

She held her arms out and open, “come here, baby.” And you walked to her bed before crawling into her arms and resting your head against her chest, her arms wrapping around your shoulders in a firm hold.

“I’m here, baby. I’ll always be here for you.” A soothing stroke to your hair.

“I’ll always be here for you too, mommy.” You whispered into her clavicle.

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

taglist: @heartyhope / @preciousbabypeter / @dessxoxsworld / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn / @ameliabs-world / @mayonesavegana / @gracella0709 / @gengen64 / @alecmores / @choclate32 / @stvrdustalexx / @redheadedfangirl / @agustdeeyaa / @yappydoo / @liberhoe / @hehehehannahthings / @ladybug0095 / @sweeter-innocence-fics / @j-6o / @voteforevilthoughts / @harrysflowercrownrry / @ilovereadingfanfics / @sorrow-has-a-place-here / @80strashbag / @ririvilliams / @sweet1peach / @cierrajhill / @we-out-here-simping /

*strike through means tumblr can’t hide your account, sorry*

#The Byers Harrington Story #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things series #stranger things self insert

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mrs-johansson · 1 year

Text

Chapter 4: Captain America: The Winter Soldier - Partners in crime

Part 10:

“Why do I only see you when you get into a hospital?” My dad’s grumbling voice woke me up. Bright lights were making opening my eyes a difficult task but I managed. “I wasn’t planning on getting here,” I declared. “Yeah, everyone says that. How are you anyway?” He took a seat at the side of my bed. “I’m dizzy, but I’m sure I’ll get better in no time,” I sighed and he nodded. “Romanoff just left, she had some government stuff to deal with.” “She was here?” Maybe she visited Steve. “Yeah, didn’t leave your side since they brought you in.” “Right… How’s Steve?” “Holding up, this Sam guy is with him.” “He’s a friend.” “I thought he was a fan, to be honest.” “Sometimes I do too. Can you ask a nurse when they will let me go?” I vocalized. “Yeah, sure.”

She was here. I wouldn’t expect her to do this but clearly she didn’t want me to know since she left. I hope we work things out soon.

***

After one more day in the hospital, I was let go. Going home, I didn’t know what to expect. Is she gonna be there or she'll be long gone?

Unlocking the door I was scared to walk in, but I pushed open the wooden door and I stepped inside.

Seeing a piece of paper on the countertop, I quickly got that and saw that Natasha signed the bottom.

I hope when you read this, you’ll be fully healed and well because you scared us all pretty bad. Even though we broke up, I still want our work to be unbothered from this because it’s very important for both of us. We basically started off as colleges, we should be fine.

I cleaned out my stuff from the apartment, and temporarily I will move back to the HQ. You can stay if you want but we could also keep this as a safe house until we find some options for its future.

Lastly, I wanted to say sorry. We planned so much for us and we were blinded by the pink fog which led us here. All I hope is that all we need is time. You were my first love Y/n, and nothing can change that. But until then, please be careful and never forget, pain only makes us stronger.

Tears were unstoppable. My heart ached. Natasha was my home and my peace. She was the one who I came home to when I had a rough day or she was the one who woke me up from a nightmare.

For a whole year I learned how not to rely on people but she was my person. And now I have to change my life because we didn’t work.

***

After both Steve and I have recovered, Sam and the two of us decided to go out and have some drinks.

“Even though Sam has lost our bet, I’ll pay for tonight’s drinks. Post-breakup spending is everything that I need right now,” we sat down at a table. “How you holding up?” Asked Sam. “Well… I cry myself to sleep every night but I'm fine. I haven’t seen her since, but I don’t want it to affect work, so I need to get my shit together. So we need to drink tonight, these are the times that I wish I could get drunk.” “Alright, that’s why we need a lot of drinks,” Sam stood up. “What are you drinking?” he asked. “Gin and tonic for me, please.” “I’m good with a beer.” As Sam left Steve took his chance and asked away.

“So daughter…” He had a small smile on his freshly shaved face. “Yeah, not a happy story, don’t get your hopes up.” “Is there anything happy about the Red Room?” Giving Steve a shortened version of the story, he was kind of in shock. “So he’s trying to find her?” He asked. “Yeah, I guess.” “Do you think you could be a mom?” He asked. “I don’t know. I’m sure it would be difficult at first, like for everybody, but then I would get great at it.” “I think you would be a great mom.” “Thanks, Steve .”

For the rest of the night we were drinking like there was no tomorrow. Honestly I was feeling sorry for Sam, because he will regret every sip of alcohol tomorrow.

***

The next day we met up with Fury, then I decided I’m gonna work from Stark Industries for a while, lay low and do subtle jobs. Nick thought it was a good idea too.

I texted Natasha and told her if she wanted, she could have the place for herself since I still had my apartment in Manhattan. It would have been a waste to sell that place. So I packed all my stuff by the end of the week. I was finishing the last box when the door opened, and Natasha walked in.

“I’ll be out in a minute, this is the last one,” moving my hands around and all my things flying inside the box. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you mowing out is way easier,” said Nat as she walked to the kitchen unpacking her groceries. “I gotta use this for something, don’t I?” “I guess… You hungry, I bought some Chinese?” She poked her head out of the kitchen. “Actually I have to go, I need to prepare for a meeting tomorrow.” I took off the apartment key of my keychain before grabbing the last box. “This is yours,” I extended the little key to her but she shook her head. “Keep it, just in case,” Natasha shrugged with a barely noticeable smile on her face. “Alright,” putting it back in my pocket, I made my way towards the door. “I guess I’ll see you around,” I gave her a small nod. “See you around.”

***

Weeks have been passing by. I had a mission every 5 days and in those 5 days I was at the office. Working has been a great distraction from Natasha. We talk like every couple of days. She’s been out of the country for a week now, doing some work for Fury.

Today I had a presentation for the company, a 3 year plan for Stark Industries.

“We need to rebuild some parts of New York. The battle was way too damaging for the citizens and building accommodation is our best way to do so,” I said. On the screen I made a layout of a couple new buildings we could make. “Since we had multiple global sized threats, our buildings need to be stable and practical. Families have lost their homes and we're gonna give it back to them. You’re gonna get the files about the plan by the end of the afternoon. Thank you for your time today,” I looked around and with a round of applause we finished our meeting.

“Y/n you have a visitor waiting in your office,” Liam walked up to me. “Who?” “All he said was James, he wished to remain quiet about him being here.” James is here? “Alright, please keep everyone away from my office.” “Right away.” “Thank you.”

Walking in the hallway, I didn’t know what to expect. He was here as James so anything could happen.

Placing my hand on the handle, I took a deep breath in, then opened in. He was sitting at my desk, not in my chair of course. As he heard the door James turned around. I closed the door behind me and slowly walked to my chair.

He had a baseball hat on, his hair brushed behind his ears. Simple black t-shirt and a brown jacket over it. Leather gloves covering his hand.

“You know, Steve is desperately looking for you. But I’m guessing you want to lay low,” I sat down. “I can’t see him, I need time,” he said. “Where have you been?” “Bucharest, had some missions over there and I always liked the city, very calm and hidden.” “Glad you’re alive,” I gave him a small smile. His features have softened since we last met. “Thank you for not killing me, you had the chance,” he smiled lightly which was a relief. “Well what can I say, I try not to,” I shrugged and we chuckled, but it died down quickly. “How are you holding up?” I asked and he didn’t know how to answer. I could hear his confused thoughts. “You know that by now, don’t you?” He asked with a small smirk but I shook my head. “I don’t use that on people close to me.” “Not even your girlfriend?” I sighed and shifted in my seat. “We broke up.” “What happened?” “He told me about you and her, not gonna lie it was a big surprise… and she just couldn’t open up. I’m not building a relationship on lies.” “So you’re single?” He asked. “That I am.” “Not for long probably. You look pretty good when you are not getting shocked.” “Wow, never thought I’d live the day you talk normally, maybe even flirt,” I chuckled. “That bad, huh?” “Could’ve been worse, but with your looks you could get anyone you want so… don’t worry about the talking.” He nodded. “Not to be rude but… why did you come here?” “I think she might be alive and I needed a place to lay low, but you’re the only person I trust.”

She might be alive? How? This can’t be real. “What makes you think that?” My leg bounced, and my heart started racing. “There’s an orphanage in Main, a girl named Katarina Barnes, she’s two and born in Russia, around the due date you were supposed to have. Her DNA showed all American genes. She grows slowly, probably because of the Super Soldier genes and your godly ones. I needed you to know before I go and see her.” “I’m coming with you,” I said harshly. “But we need to lay low, nobody can know I’m here,” James said with a serious expression on his face. “I’ll hide you, but we need to get her.”

***

“I’ve got some mail for you also, this one I didn’t know what it was. No information on it,” Liam handed me a couple things along with a big orange envelope. “Alright, thank you.”

Opening the envelope, I saw right away that it was Katarina’s birthserificet and all her medical papers.

Going straight to the lab, I tested everything and I sat through the whole night to wait and see if our DNA’s match.

I woke up to my phone buzzing on the counter and as I sat up, I knew it was probably the worst idea to sleep while sitting.

“Yeah?” I spoke into the phone. “Hey, did I wake you?” Natasha’s voice rang through the phone. Shit, she was supposed to bring me some papers. “Ugh yeah, but I just fell asleep accidentally.” “So you’re not at the office?” “I am, kind of. I’m in my lab, can you come down please? I have to show you something,” I cleared my throat trying to get rid of my sore throat. “I’ll bring coffee and breakfast, I bet you haven’t eaten in a decade.” Why is she nice?! I can’t get over her if she’s nice! “Okay, thanks.”

In about thirty minutes, the elevator’s sound alerted me about Nat’s arrival.

“I thought you left those days behind when you sleep here,” Natasha’s woke voice made me turn around. “My daughter is alive.”

Natasha’s mouth dropped open and she stopped in her tracks before slowly walking towards my desk, placing everything on the table. “Are you serious?”

“I mean I haven’t checked the DNA test, but it’s a really big possibility,” I stared at the screen, afraid to look at the results. “Well why didn’t you?” She pulled a chair to the desk and sat down.

“What if she’s not mine… I’ve had hope for a couple of days now, that she’s alive and close. What if it’s not true?” I felt my heart pounding, scared to lose this tiny bit of hope too.

Nat placed a hand on my back which made me look at her. She’s being physical and I’m getting anxious not gonna lie. We are supposed to be broken up.

“Look… there’s another side to those ifs. What if she’s yours, what if you could finally have her? Check the result. Whatever happens, you still have a daughter,” her green eyes were giving so much comfort and I miss that every day. “Fine…”

Clicking on the test, then the result, I brought it out on a projector. The big blue hologram showed the answer.

Tears were floating down my cheek as I read over and over again the positive word. I know Nat was talking but I couldn’t hear anything right at that moment.

I have my daughter and she’s alive.

***

“Ready to go in?” Asked James from the driver’s seat. I looked at the orphanage and all I could think about was this little girl, who was all alone since she was born. “Yeah.”

We called ahead that we were coming and I was never this nervous about anything. I’m about to meet my daughter. After the DNA check, James and I were sure that we needed to come and see her

Walking in I had mixed feelings. If they allow us to adopt her, will I be able to take care of her? Mom’s usually have 9 or more months to prepare for motherhood. And I have had 2 weeks so far.

The manager of the orphanage was very kind to us and immediately showed the way to Katarina. “She’s an angel. Even though she can’t really communicate with the other kids, she has a couple friends who she plays with all the time.” The woman said and I smiled at her words.

There were about six kids in the playroom. It was decorated very nicely, animal cartoons painted on the walls and different shades of earth toned furniture around the room and tons of toys for the babies.

“She’s the one with the pigtails. Now that we’ve met, she’s a great mix of the two of you,” said the woman and I quickly found Katarina. I grabbed onto James’ arm and couldn’t take my eyes off of the little girl.

She had piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair, all from Barnes. A big smile on her face, a couple of teeth already visible. A small flowery dress was on her and tiny shoes. She was perfect. “Can we meet her?” I asked. “Of course, I’ll walk you to a room and we’ll get ready for you.”

The door opened. A woman walked in with Katarina in her hands. She was looking around curiously, small hands resting on her caretaker’s shoulders.

We made eye contact and I fell in love immediately. The pureness in her eyes was unmatchable. “Here you go,” the woman handed her to me, and I was afraid to even touch her. Putting my hands under her arms, I sat her down on my lap.

Big blue eyes were staring up at me and I couldn’t hold back my smile. “I know you can’t hear but hi,” I whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. As I touched her little face, a smile spread across her cheeks. “You’re perfect,” a single tear rolled down my cheeks. “Does she know sign language?” I turned to the manager. “Yes, she’s a very quick learner.”

James took off the glove from his right hand, and carefully reached towards Katarina’s tiny hand. His one finger fit into her whole hand. He waved to her and she looked at him with a huge smile.

We finally found our daughter, who is the most adorable human being on the planet. And she’s perfect, the prettiest little girl.

Even tho she had a rough meeting with the world at first, from now on I will do everything in my power to protect her for on anything and anyone, and show her the word that she holds in her tiny little hands.

****************************************************

This would be the last part of Chapter 4. It’s a little shorter than the last ones, but I thought I wouldn’t drag it out more. Next chapter will be:

Avengers: Age of Ultron - Two Ghosts

#black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x y/n #black widow x stark!reader #black widow x you #gxg #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x stark!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff x female #stark reader #y/n stark #bucky barnes #the winter soldier

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ilovewebtoons · 1 year

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Hii, I just wanted to rate some Webtoons I’ve read in the past.

I Love Yoo

The art is great and it used to be my favorite webtoon but after a while it starting dragging. The characters became more unlikable and unfortunately the webtoon lost its humor which I had considered its greatest charm. The issue is that chapters feel way too dense nowadays. Its a shame because I had been looking forward to see my ship develop. Reading the first ten chapters and then the last few shows how much the tone of the story has changed. The best part of the story was in my opinion the Gala arc, right after it the story took a tragic turn. But during it I interacted so much in the fandom and we made theories based on everything! It was so so much fun. I think the biggest bummer is seriously the tonal shift. 6/10

Sirens Lament

I remember reading this weekly when it had barely finished its first season. It was absolutely lovely. The art is breathtaking and the characters are beyond likable, I love them. I just want to root for them all. The ending (honestly the last few chapters) had me in tears and I was completely obsessed with the secondary couple (Tua and Pele omg). I loved it. If I had one criticism, its that after 2/3s of the story the plot started to feel a tiny bit dense at times but even then, just seeing the gorgeous artwork made up for it. 9.5/10

Lets Play

It started off fine, I loved the artstyle and was invested into the plot, and as someone who played a lot of games as a child and young teen, I loved the references to games! The sequence where Marshall began playing the game was, in my opinion, the best part of the entire story. I was reading weekly at the time and Lets play had become the webtoon I looked most forward to updating because of it. That changed once Marshall had finished the game though. What I didn’t like were the things that followed, especially the amount of sexual content. 5/10

Cursed Princess Club

This webtoon is amazing. I’ve been reading it since the day it was released and oh boy, its everything!! It has everything. Likable characters, great humor and an intriguing plot. I don’t even know what else to say. People tend to criticize the artsyle which was remastered in the physical copy, but I never had a problem with it personally. I have the least to say here because I just liked everything. Every decision the author makes, I like. And the plottwists make sense and she also builds up her plot over 100s of chapters, its crazy! Like you’ll be in chapter 100 something and she’ll call back to something said in chapter 12. And the chapters are long. I never feel robbed when spending my coins! 10/10

The four of them

Its a very refreshing webtoon. I love the characters and their development. And honestly, it never once bored me. The 4 main characters are very interesting, and you really just want them to succeed. When they mess up, instead if getting annoyed, I’d root for them to do better next time and learn from their mistakes. And after reading the comments, I can say that most felt that way. The stakes were also rather low which makes the reading experience a lot more chill than the other webtoons, a true breath of fresh air. My only criticism is that the chapter lengths vary to much, so when you’re buying a chapter w coins you take a bit of a risk of getting a shorter one that’ll be done after a minute of reading. Its an amazing story to binge though! 9/10

#webtoon #cursed princess club #the four of them #I love yoo #lets play #sirens lament

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nitannichionne · 1 year

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If He Was Your Fan (A Henry Cavill Fanfic) Chapter 71, Version 2: Found Wanting

You thought it wasn’t so bad. Everyone complimented you on it, or looked at you smiling and complimenting you on your gloves. You even brushed up on your glove etiquette. You felt like you’d passed, until you read this:

HENRY’S OLD NEW LOVE

First, a quote from a previous interview:

While Cavill's tastes lean towards younger ladies now, he admits that he dated a 32-year-old woman when he was 19—and he still isn't quite sure what to do with his heart (or, uh, his bald eagle). He told Playboy, "It's tough for anyone to be in a relationship with someone like me. It's a tough lifestyle. If I want someone who's a professional, they've got their own s*** going on. So unless I meet someone who's very, very young who hasn't yet started trying a career like that, you can then go, 'Okay, I'm going to travel with you and do some stuff, maybe I'll write or whatever; I'll entertain myself or build my own kind of travelling career.' I'm looking for someone who's my own age and will have a career. If they haven't, then maybe I should be worried. It's easier said than done."

We hope he finally finds her.

Now, he is dating a slightly older American woman of color who writes. She is of middle middle class, living somewhere in Brixton (it’s on the upswing these days, but Brixton?). And instead of checking what is fashionable, goes out on a limb with this attire. Some say it’s old, some say it’s classic, others say it’s basic, but honestly, we honestly are not sure.

He seems perfectly happy, but we’ve seen that before, too.

Thumbs up or Thumbs down?

Is this a case of potential hypergamy (marrying up) or hypogamy (marrying down)?

Love to hear your comments!

And did they comment.

You try to steer your eyes from the comments. Some described you as a witch who put a spell on him in a play for his money. Some said you were playing into his mama’s boy complex, some said it’s because he’s been “going young so long he’s going the other way now,” and so on. Only a few said that you are both grown and it’s no one’s business. That was me years ago. As far as the dress goes, everything worn is from the past, they make a few changes-sometimes none-and it’s new.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chiru says in video call with Sophie to you. “The press is trying to find a way to spin it and make it interesting, and God knows there are a lot of jealous female fans.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Sophie nods. “Bound to happen.”

“I wanted to go shopping today,” you confide. “Henry starts his press junket in a couple of days, but—”

“But, what?”

“He’s not talking about it as much as he did before,” you tell them. “He talked about how the experiences in a junket for single production could be a book in itself-it’s something he didn’t think he could describe…you know, the people, the places, the food?”

“He was either hyping it up for you to experience, or rubbing it in.” Sophie says slowly.

“I’m going with option one, which has me wondering why the change?”

You can barely talk. “Yeah.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Sophie’s expression is one of sadness. “Girls day?”

“I don’t know—”

“Ah, come on,” Chiru encourages. “mani-pedis on me?”

“Tea on me?” Sophie adds.

“And how about a nice ride?” you add with a sigh, beginning to smile.

“Yes!” Chiru and Sophie grin back at you on the screen.

“Okay, I’m in,” you shrug simply. What they describe doing is away from the public for the most part, and you’ll be home before most get off work. You know at some point you will have to do whatever whenever despite whoever, but not right now. Besides, I had something to share with them…

You decide to meet at dawn at Trent Park around dawn, and you are ready to see Luc. It always seems too long, or maybe it is that when you see him, you feel free. He loves you, misses you, accepts you in a way that you wish others would. It’s like he knows.

You are relieved that Finn opened the store early so you could pick up your brand new winter jacket. You did not want to ride with anything else. You shop early, thanks to him, and you get a discount because of your work with Luc, buy a few resale things. You set it aside and slip on the new jacket, sighing, and then make your way to Luc.

“Good morning, John,” you say.

He turns and brightens when he sees it’s you. “Hey! Long time no—”

“I know, it’s been a couple of weeks,” you say apologetically. “How is he—” You are interrupted by a very demanding whinney and snort. “Oh.”

John nods and rolls his eyes. He hands you carrots. “There ya go.”

“Thanks.” You got to the stall and see him. He stamps his hoof, and you cringe. “Luc?”

He snorts and turns away slightly.

“Hey, baby,” you coo to him, raising your hands in submission. “I just got back, honest. Family stuff. Been so busy. I’m sorry, okay?” You offer the carrot, and he takes it. You nuzzle him, and you feel tears come to your eyes. You have truly missed him, especially now. “You know, I think I might start coming up here and sit in the café more. It seems so quiet here—”

“Hey, girl!”

“Well, usually,” I joke in a whisper. “Hey, Chiru. Where’s—”

“Whoo! Got here.” Sophie exhales, looking like she’s been running.

“Yeah, I got here, early.” You smile broadly.

“I could have picked you up, you know,” Chiru frowns. “You’re on the way. When are you going to get a car?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s a big undertaking, Chiru. The note, the repairs, the insurance, the fuel…it’s easier to…” You slip Luc his last carrot. “feed a horse.”

“You might have a point,” Sophie smiles and shrugs. “At least the horse loves you back. Hi, Luc.”

“Don’t interrupt the man,” Chiru jokes. “he’s eating.”

Luc glances up and keeps chewing.

You look out over the fields, and breathe in fresh air.

You all saddle up and ride out in the crisp morning air. You’re feeling free at the moment, not a care in the world. “Follow me!” You kick into a gallop. You hear Sophie squeal and Chiru laugh behind you, and you smile. You can trust them, you can.

You deviate from the path.

“Hey!” Chiru calls ahead.

“Oh, my God, we’re going?” Sophie says excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to go!”

“Where?” Chiru’s voice tinges with worry. “Where?!”

“Oh, my God,” Sophie’s eyes are wide with awe. “Camelot.”

“Camelot?” Chiru repeats. “The Camelot?”

“According to maps and legend, yes,” you nod. “Come on, we’ve got to clean up.”

Sophie looks around. “Dear God, yes.”

“Please, Chiru?” you beg, feeling tears come to your eyes.

She looks about. “I’m in, mera mitra.”

“Tie the horses here,” you tell them. You take a sack out and give them gloves and sticks. “Let’s clean the castle!”

At first, you are all in awe. You swear you can hear voices and music, but your imagination always seems to run wild in this place. It is so quiet, and then you start to talk, and then laugh. You feel like you’re being watched, but you feel like you’re being watched over than anything. You pick up all the trash, but leave all tributes and trinkets behind. Then you do the island itself, the place where Camelot may have stood and you always get a little lightheaded when you cross. You’d never tell the others that; they’d think you’re crazy.

“Thank you,” you whisper and hug them when you’re done. When you step back you see tears in their eyes.

“So, what, we’re the new round table?” Chiru asks with a mischievous grin.

“More like a troublesome trio,” Sophie says sarcastically, but giggles. “That would make you Arthur!”

“HA!” you laugh out loud. “As if!”

“Are we coming back?” Sophie asks.

“I don’t see why not,” you shrug. Chiru and Sophie cross the moat and you follow, looking back and around. You whisper, “Thanks for having us,” and as you leave, you feel a breeze at your back and leaves rustling…leaves that are no longer on trees…

By the time you return, you have elevensies at the café, and decide to get swabbed for your DNA reading for the Christmas party and then go shopping together for your dresses, Christmas and New Year’s.

You are trying to have fun, remain calm, but you’re freaking out. Chiru and Sophia sense your tension and try to make it fun, but you just need…something…

You are at Harrod’s shopping, and for some reason, Chiru and Sophia don’t want to leave. It’s so public, and some people have started to recognize you. You don’t want to bow your head like you’re ashamed; you’ve done nothing wrong. You tilt your chin up and try not to notice, and you hate that reaction because you might seem aloof or stuck up, when you’re just treading the crowd and trying to keep focused on your tasks.

“Hey!”

You recognize the voice and see Stella. You run to her like one swims to a life jacket and hug her tightly. “Stella.”

“Hey, I thought I’d join you guys for tea,” Stella smiles.

“I thought you were too busy—”

“I thought I was, too, but—” She nods toward Chiru and Sophia. “They called and asked me to take an afternoon.”

You turn to look at them thankfully. Ah, true friends. What a luxury! You smile with tears in your eyes. “I’ve a lot to do.”

“We’ll get it done, and we’ll have tea,” Stella nods with grin as she locks elbows with you. “It’s time we all become friends.”

You all group hug, and you shakily exhale.

“Don’t worry, okay?” Chiru says softly.

“We’ve got you,” Sophia smiles and gives a squeeze.

“The Formidable Four,” Chiru raises her chin. “Femme Four Fatale?”

“What?” Stella quirks an eyebrow.

“We’ll explain over tea,” Sophia grins. “Oh, this is going to be a fun season!”

“Unforgettable, at least!” you laugh.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you

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sassyduckqueen · 2 years

Text

The Fox and The Fae 2

Just to warn you, this does get a bit dark as a curse occurs. I won't say what it is because spoilers but you'll know what I mean when you read so just be aware. Also this is a lot of Alya Salt and she is not a good person in this so if you don't like, don't read. You have been warned.

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Chapter Two: Alya Césaire

"Lila, you have a visitor," The guard stated, making the ex model look at him with disgust. Since the Gala, her life had changed dramatically. Thanks to that fae bastard, she couldn't tell a single lie and as if that was bad enough, she was compelled to tell it too, meaning she confessed to everything she had ever lied about or even been slightly dishonest about. It had landed her in some serious jail time as she had ripped off, threatened and harmed a lot of people. What she had thought was a curse had turned out to be much more. Apparently, Luka decided a simple curse wasn't good enough and when with a blessing instead which had royally screwed her over. A curse of truth would have been easily broken but a blessing of truth can't. Because of their nature of been 'good', blessings couldn't be broken. The only person who could remove it was in fact Luka himself as blessings can only be altered and removed by the original caster. In other words, she was stuck with it for good. "Be nice now,"

She glared at the guard as her lackey Alya walked in. Of course, she would come visit her. Alya had in her head that Lila was innocent and simply a victim of Marinette's curses. She had been her lackey since Lila took over Marinette's class in high school and had been Lila's 'bestie' ever since. The thing was Lila did not see Alya as her bestie let alone her friend. She saw her a ticket to fame and a way of spoiling Marinette's name. Alya had wanted to be a reporter and had a blog where she posted her reports and stories. Lila had seen it as a way to fame and decided to befriend her. Not long after Alya's blog when from been reasonable ok to nothing more then a tabloid and shrine to Lila. Years later, Alya still believed Lila and continued to 'film' her story. She had it in her head that Lila would bring her fame and technically Lila did. She name-dropped Alya as a great reporter and had given her a couple of exclusive interviews which had done wonders to Alya's career. She had gained popularity as a renowned journalist and had landed herself her dream job as the face of TVi studios but Lila only did it to keep up appearance. Having her as the main subject of Alya's blog would make her more well known and getting Alya a good job would make Alya more famous which in turn would allow Lila more views. Of course, that is all over now. Not that Alya knew that.

"Lila, are you ok?" She asked, concern on her face. Lila glared at her.

"Well, if it isn't the Tabloid," She hissed in a nasty voice, surprising Alya. "Heard your career is over. Honestly, I'm surprised it took them this long,"

"Lila, I know you don't mean it," She replied, making Lila sneer. "Clearly, Marinette has cursed you again,"

"Are you seriously that dumb?!" Lila gasped, though on the inside she was a little happy. Alya was still blaming Marinette. She might not be able to claim Marinette did this to her but she wouldn't need to. Alya would. "Marinette never cursed me. I made that up to make her look bad,"

"You're just saying that as part of her curse," Alya replied, making Lila roll her eyes. She might be glad but seriously how hasn't Alya realized yet. Her denial is insane. "Don't worry. I'll find a way to break it then we can finally prove how evil Marinette really is,"

"You're pathetic,"

~A Few Days Later~

"Alya, are you sure this is a good idea?" Nino asked as the two of them looked at the boathouse that floated on the seine with frowns on their faces. Alya really didn't want to be here. She hated the faes but she wasn't faced with much choice right now. Ever since she had visited Lila in prison, she was determined to break the curse she believed she was under. She claimed it was because Lila was her friend but deep down, that wasn't the reason. The true reason was because she herself was losing everything in her life. She had based her full career on Lila and had been riding off her success since she got. Thanks to the name dropping, she had gotten her dream job and was ranking it in. She decided to rent an apartment nearby but since the fashion gala, everything had gone down the drain. Lila had revealed the 'truth' at the gala, stating a number of so called truths but Alya didn't believe a word of it. It was a curse to ruin Lila and it had been done by Marinette as she was the only person who would do that. She had cursed Lila before and Lila had gotten help with breaking that one so of course, she gotten annoyed and cursed Lila again. That had to be it because if Lila really was telling the truth then it really was over for Alya. She had made it her mission the last couple of years to destroy Marinette's name and this latest development had been part of it. When Alya found out about the Gala, she had been called into the office of the CEO of the TVi studios and had been told they couldn't have her as the face of their company due to her connection with Lila Rossi. Apparently, there were a lot of people who wanted to see her burn just because she had been friends with Lila. Her bosses couldn't fire her without good reason but since she was friends with Lila, there were a lot of people who would boycott their studios if they kept her as the face of the brand so they would move her to a job in editing. Alya had accepted it but deep down, she blamed Marinette. She continued to insist that Marinette was the cause of this and tried to get a number of the other reporters to reveal her 'true' colors, even going as far as to demand that they 'expose' her as a fraud. All it ended in was her getting warnings from her bosses. Apparently Marinette was friends with a number of the reporters and people who worked there so Alya had no real power in the studios. Her bosses warned her to drop it or they would drop her. This made her more furious when she got home so she took to her old blog and wrote an article that dragged Marinette's name through the mud. She accused her of previously cursing Lila to stop her from been famous and having her blacklisted from any decent work. She wrote that Marinette had cursed Lila at the Gala, due to her jealousy and annoyance that Lila had her previous curse broken. She slated her company, calling them cheap and claiming that Marinette treated her workers like slaves and never actually made her own charms but instead stole from other people. She revealed that Marinette had a crush on the Seelie prince Adrien and that she cursed any girl who got in her way of been with him, including Lila, a shapeshifter called Kagami and even Chloe Bourgeois, claiming that she had gone as far as to curse the full family and caused their fall from glory. Even though it was common knowledge that the Unseelie prince known as Viperion was the one who cursed them. She ripped into Marinette, her company and her parents' bakery, calling them all kind of nasty things and reporting that the bakery had rats and roaches. Once she was done, she posted it and felt that she had righted a wrong. Of course it did not work out for her at all. Due to the slander. the reputation of her old blog and her breaking her contract, she ended up losing her job. As if that wasn't bad enough, Marinette and her parents were suing her for defamation and slander and she was trending on social media in a bad way, which is what lead her and her boyfriend Nino here. This Fae had broken the curse on Lila, he could do it again and fix her career in one go even if he was a fae. "This place gives me the creeps,"

"We don't have a choice," She gasped, looking at him. "This guy can break Lila's curse and restore my career then finally I can expose Marinette for the fraud she is,"

"But he's a fae," Nino whispered as they came close. Alya ignored his comment and frowned as the gate leading to the gangplank was closed. However, she shrugged and opened it regardless before heading towards the deck. Once on there, she looked around and saw a closed door. "Babe, I don't think this fae is open for business,"

"Well, he should be," Alya gasped before trying the door. It was unsurprisingly locked but this did not stop Alya. She reached into her purse and took out something, making Nino give her a look. "Don't worry. I'm just using a little bit of Alya magic,"

She moved into front of the lock and proceed to pick the lock, opening the door. Nino gave her a worried look but followed her inside. The two of them glanced around, seeing nothing darkness. Alya took out her torch and switched it on, moving the beam around before screaming and dropping it as she saw tanks that had snakes in them. It wasn't one or two either. The place had at least 20 different tanks. All with snakes snoozing in them.

"T-That's a lot of snakes," Nino gasped as Alya calmed herself and began to snoop around. "Alya? What are you doing?"

"Trying to find his spell book," She replied before freezing as she felt something slither over her feet. Nino's eyes went wide as a large snake rose it's body in front of her and began hissing. Alya shook as she stared at it in the eye but that didn't seem to make the situation better. The snake's tail began to rattle and it made itself look bigger, beginning to get ready to strike. Alya screamed as it lunged at her but before it could bite her, someone grabbed it and wrapped it around their neck as she fell on her butt.

"William, that's not very nice," A calming voice stated as the snake hissed lightly in reply. Alya stared at the fae in front of her as he traced his fingers down William's scales, calming down the snake though it continued to glare daggers at Alya as it hissed in reply. "I know you're just defending our home and they have broken the rules of hospitality but biting people isn't very nice and your fangs are venomous. Besides, I've dumped enough bodies in the Seine,"

The snake hissed in reply as Alya looked shocked and pale at the fae's comment before he turned his eyes to her.

"You better have a good reason for breaking into my home and disturbing the date I was on," He stated with a slight hissing in his own voice. Alya couldn't find her voice as she took him in. She had to admit he was extremely attractive but part of her was repulsive as he was a fae and it was extremely obvious. His ears were pointed, he had teal green scales that traveled around his neck and onto his arms and his eyes were snakelike and bright blue. "Snake got your tongue?"

"N-No," She gasped, finding her bearings and quickly getting to her feet. "I need your help,"

"Come back when I'm open," He replied, turning to one of the tanks and placing William in it. William hissed lightly and the fae replied, sticking out his tongue which to Alya's shock was forked. He scratched William's scales before turning back to them. "Why are you still here?"

"Because I need your help and I am not coming back when you're 'open'," Alya replied with an annoyed tone. The fae rolled his eyes and moved over to one of the other cases. "I know you can do magic and deals because I helped track you down for a friend of mine and you broke the curse on her!"

"A friend of yours?" He asked, thinking. The only person he had dealt with recently was Lila but she definitely wasn't cursed. However, he wasn't surprised that this girl thought she was. Clearly, Lila lied to her too. "Ah, you must mean Liar Rossi? Yes, I had a contract with her but I wouldn't say I broke her 'curse'. That suggests she was cursed in the first place,"

"What do you mean?!" Alya declared angrily. "Of course, she was cursed! That stupid cow Marinette cursed out of her jealous and then cursed her again when she discovered you had removed at the Gala,"

"The Gala?" He questioned before bursting out laughing. "Oh so you're the source of that rumor? I can assure you that Marinette did not curse Rossi either times,"

"What?!" Alya gasped, annoyed. "But she had to! That's the only reason why Lila's personality changed so much!"

The fae continued to laugh, causing Alya to glare at him as Nino looked on nervously. Unlike Alya, he didn't hate the fae. Prince Adrien was his best friend after all but that didn't mean he trusted them. Adrien was a different case as they were friends and he was a Seelie, who Nino considered the good faes. While they had the power to meddle and grant wishes, they rarely did. They usually did nice wishes too but this fae was definitely not a seelie. Nino knew he was an Unseelie and that meant he was evil. The proof was there as he laughed at the situation. He may have broken Lila's curse but he clearly enjoyed that she had been cursed in the first place. He slowly calmed down and wiped his eyes but he still had a smirk on his face. Alya gritted her teeth as she glared at him.

"What the hell is so funny?!"

"The fact that you still think that Lila is the victim in all of this," He replied, making her glare at him. Nino frowned though. Of course, Lila was the victim. She had to be... because if she wasn't then not only did Alya throw away her career and her friend but he had cast his friend aside too and he wasn't sure how to deal with that fact or even how to fit it if it was true. So many years had passed and Marinette wouldn't probably never forgive them. The fae glanced at her, getting both of their attention as he slowly tilted his head to the side a little. "You don't know much about magic do you?"

"Well, I'm not a witch!" She gasped in annoyance.

"Noted," He replied, making her frown. "There is a difference between a curse and a blessing. If Lila was cursed, there would be a mark and she would be able to break it but this isn't a curse. It's a blessing. It can't be broken and can only be removed by the caster. It's a blessing of truth as well, meaning she has be honest in whatever way she can. That also means confessing to all of her lies and fraud and that's what has landed her in trouble. Honestly though, it was deserving. All the bad things she's done.. well, Karma was going to come by and collect it's debt at some point. I just merely gave it a helping hand. That's one of the reason why I picked that particular blessing... of course, I also love the irony factor,"

"Wait what do you mean by that?!" Alya gasped, having not realized yet. "Marinette was the one who cursed her,"

"As I can said, I can guarantee that Marinette did not," He replied, his eyes shifting to a greener color. "I know this for certain because it was me who placed the blessing on Rossi,"

"Y-You?" Alya gasped as Nino looked at him in shock. "B-But why would you curse her again after you broke her curse?"

"Firstly, it's not a curse as I've already said. It's a blessing," He corrected, looking at his nails. "Secondly, she was never cursed in the first place. She came to me to make a deal for fame and fortune and to ruin Marinette and finally, I did it because I don't take kindly to be insulted or been called something degrading,"

"Prove it!" Alya demanded, making the fae sigh but he humored her. He clicked his fingers and a scroll appeared in a flash of green light before he handed it to Alya. She snatched it out of his hand and opened, reading it. Her eyes went wide as she did. Nino leaned over and read it as well, causing his own eyes to go wide. It was a clear contract for fame and vengeance and was sighed by Lila. There was no doubt about it. It was definitely her signature. The contract disappeared in a green light, causing both of them to jump back slightly but apparently it wasn't enough for Alya. "But... but Lila wouldn't!"

"She did," The fae replied, rolling his eyes before pointing. "The way out is that. Bye now!"

"Wait!" Alya gasped, pushing the boundaries. "You have to undo it!"

"I don't have to do anything," He replied, making Alya look at him with shock. "Now leave. I am bored and done with this conversation,"

"Wait!" Alya gasped, making him look at her. "I want to make a deal with you,"

"You want to make a deal with me?" He asked, slightly amused before he walked over to her. "What could you possibly give me? I have paid off my rent and I have food in my cupboards. My snakes are fed well and happy and I have no need for anything else right now,"

"I can give you money and do a report on you!" She gasped, making him raise an eyebrow. "You'll get much better business! Please, just undo what you did to Lila and make our lives perfect again!"

"No," He replied coldly. "Now leave. You've outstayed our welcome,"

"You can't reject a deal!" She declared with determination. "I know the laws of the fae and you can't reject it so you better do it or else,"

"You know the faes' law huh?" He asked, stepping over as his eyes turned fully green. He was extremely pissed. Nino tried to get Alya's attention but she ignored him and tried to make herself look like she was bigger then she was. She clearly didn't realize the danger they were in. "I call Bullshit,"

"Babe, we need to go-"

"Shut up, Nino," She hissed before turning back to the fae. "Oh yeah?!"

"You only know some of our laws and they only apply to the Seelie," He growled as the atmosphere changed. Nino attempted to get Alya's attention again but once again, she ignored him. "I am not a seelie therefore their rules do not apply to me! I am under no obligation to accept a deal and right now I have no interest in accepting one so shallow,"

"Excuse me but my deal is not shallow!" Alya argued back. "I am doing this for Lila,"

"Oh don't make me laugh!" The fae hissed, clearly more annoyed. "The only reason you even want to make a deal with me is fix your life. Not Lila's. You don't give a shit about her! You only care about the so called fame she can bring you. Under normal circumstance, I would actually consider helping you but I am not going to neither am I compelled to. Now get out the fuck out of my home!"

"Oh and why won't you help me?!"

"Because you broke into my home!" He growled, looking more snakelike. His teeth were actually turning into fangs at this point. "By the laws of hospitality, I should kill you and I should have killed your friend too after she insulted me but I prefer to punish people in better ways but if you don't leave now, you'll see the bottom of the Seine,"

Finally realizing he was serious, Alya finally turned on her heel and began to leave but she was about to make her biggest mistake.

"Stupid puck," She muttered under her breathe as she left, thinking he didn't hear her but he did. He narrowed his eyes and made up his mind. Alya Césaire needed to be punished.

~One Week Later~

Alya hummed to herself as she dug into an ice cream while she watched a movie. Her life wasn't any better but she was working on tracking down a way to improve it. Her plan was to make a deal with another fae. Not the one she met. Personally, she hoped never to meet him again. After her and Nino had left, she did some digging into him. She knew a little bit about him as she had tracked him down for Lila but not enough so she searched into him. Apparently, he had ties to the unseelie prince Viperion and was considered extremely dangerous to most of the supernatural community. However, she found that hard to believe. He had yet to make a move against her and honestly she thought he wasn't going to. She was convinced that if he was going to attack, he would have done so already. After all it had been a week but she didn't realize that like the snakes he took after, he often laid in the grass, waiting for the right time to strike and unfortunately for her, that was now. She jumped as she heard the door bell ring, making her frown but she got up and walked over to the door, glancing through the spy hole. Seeing it was just a delivery guy, she frowned but opened the door.

"Pizza for Miss Césaire," He stated in an almost hiss, making her frown but she generally didn't think anything of it.

"Um no, I didn't order a pizza," She grumbled, going to slam the door but to her surprise, the delivery person put his foot in the door and stopped it, freaking her out. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"Pizza for Miss Césaire," He repeated, freaking her out even more because this time he drew out her name in a hiss, just like a snake and then pushed his way into the house, closing the door behind him. "It's not very nice when someone comes into your house without your permission, is it?"

"W-What?" She gasped, stepping back. "I h-haven't done anything like that,"

"Liar," He snarled, taking off his cap and revealing the fae who she had gone to. "You broke into my home so I'm just returning the favor,"

"Y-You!" She gasped as he glanced around. "You need to leave before I call the police, you freak!"

He turned to her and placed his finger against his lips with a smirk.

"Shh," He replied, causing her to look at him with a confused look before going to tell him to leave again but found her voice was gone. "That's better. You know you have an extremely annoying voice. It's so obnoxious and filled with hatred,"

"Give me my voice back!" She tried to say but nothing came out. He glanced around, taking in the room.

"Nino not home?" He asked, making her look at him with fear. "Oh don't be surprised. You put everything on the internet, Alya. It wasn't hard to track down your boyfriend's name. Shame, I was hoping to punish him for his lack of spine as well but I guess I'll get him later. Is this your laptop?"

He walked over to it and picked it up, causing her to try and rush over to get it off him but he flickered his fingers, causing the dining room chair fly over before it grabbed her and restrained her arms as he sat on the table.

"I saw your most recent article about me," He replied, glancing at her. "I mean I know I've never had the best rep but murderous, half breed bastard... what a description? Firstly, I have actual never murdered anyone. As I stated before, I prefer to punish people in a better way. Usually with a curse and a lesson so they can learn to better themselves. I'm morally gray, not evil and secondly, I'm not a half breed. I'm a full fae. My sister is a half fae, half human.. hmm maybe that's why I have a bit of soft spot for humans but then again, you already knew that didn't you?"

She gave him a puzzled look but he ignored it.

"Anyway, I intended to punish you for your ignorance and attitude towards me and my kind because frankly your attitude stinks," He explained. "So I was going to completely destroy your career beyond what you've already done to it and have your work in a cafe where you'd face... I think the word is Karens? But then I mentioned you offhandedly to my sister and her girlfriend and low and behold, it turned out that you have done a lot more to my family then I realized. You remember Juleka and Rose right?"

Alya's eyes went wide. Oh she remembered alright. They use to be friends back before Lila. Juleka was shy and pretty and Rose was hyper and bubbly but that friendship was gone. Rose and Juleka had kept their heritage a secret as they just wanted to fit in and well, Alya had made it clear that she hated fae so the two girls decided to keep it a secret. They loved having the girl squad as their friends and didn't want to lose them. Rose even went as far as to use a special potion, provided by Luka, to hide her ears so no one knew she was unseelie and Juleka just said she was human, often denying her fae side. Of course, Luka tried to encourage both of them not to hide but he also respected that it was easier. Unfortunately, Lila found out about them and since they were siding with Marinette at the time, she let it slip to Alya that Rose was a seelie and Juleka was a half breed. Well, Alya did not take it well. Not only did she scream at them for lying but she called them several slurs and completely broke off their friendship, going as far as they refuse to even acknowledge them and pretending that they were invisible. She would also try and get her friends to do the same. It resulted in her losing everyone but Lila but as far as she was concerned, she was in the right. Alix and Mylene thought she was awful about it and realized that Lila had set it up. They had actually gone on to apology to Marinette, Rose and Juleka but their friendship was never quite the same.

"So I've decided to really punish you," He stated, making her look at him. "I thought about several ways. Karma, a blessing but really none of them seem right for you. I think a curse of clarity could be good but will it really teach you your lesson? Or will you just continue to excuse your own behavior. That's when it came to me,"

He paused for dramatic effect, making her nervous.

"You refuse to see the truth and that. You can't admit you're wrong, your writing is tabloid trash and you can't even fact check," He continued, making her glare at him. "So I was thinking since you seem to blind to the truth then blind is what you should be,"

Alya's eyes widen in surprise at his words. He smirked at her before glancing at his laptop.

"I guess you're not going to need this though," He dropped it onto the floor, smashing it before standing up and walking over to her. She tried to get away from him but he roughly grabbed her chin and placed his free hand over her eyes and muttered under his breathe before moving away. Her eyes glossed over in pink before it shattered, causing her eyes to go extremely blurry to the extend where she couldn't see even with her glasses on. Fear took over her as she began to cry. He really had cursed her. "Now I haven't give you complete blindness but your vision is extremely impaired right now and will remain so until you break your curse. Now unlike Lila though, I am going to give you a chance at redemption. Realize what you have done and make things right. Do this and your sight will restored. You can have your voice back now,"

"I'm sorry!" She screamed, making him sigh. She was only sorry because he had cursed her.

"False apologies will simply make things worst," He replied, making her gasp as her sight got worst. "The more false apologies you give, the more of your sight you will lose. Only when you truly admit to yourself what you have done and try to make up for it will your sight come back. Have fun now,"

"W-Wait!" She called as he got up and headed towards the door. "D-Don't leave me! Please!!"

"I am under no obligation to help you," He stated, opening the door. "Have a good night now,"

"W-Wait!" She called out again. "I c-can tell you who else hurt Juleka and Rose! A-Adrien did and C-Chloe!"

"Chloe, I already dealt with her," He replied, making her gasp as she realized just who she had pissed off. This fae wasn't in association with Viperion. He was Viperion. "But Adrien is seelie and not my problem,"

"B-But he knew Lila was lying too!" She called out. Luka stood still for a moment but sighed and left the house. Adrien was still a fool then. Oh, well he wasn't his problem. Besides, he had a feeling that he would see Adrien soon. Especially when he finds that he's cursed Alya... and Nino when he finds him. He knew full well that Nino is friends with the seelie prince and he knows that cursing these two will get his attention. However, he'll deal with that when it happens. Right now, he just wanted to go home and relax. He needed to recharge his magic. Cursing people uses a lot of it.

Meanwhile, Alya jumped as she heard the door slam.

"Viperion?! Wait! Please!! I'm sorry!" She cried out before screaming again as her eyesight got darker. She wasn't truly sorry. Not yet but she would be soon.

~Two Weeks Later~

Marinette hummed to herself as she put some of her charms on displace. She had heard that Alya had gone quiet with her blog and Luka had told her that he had cursed her but she couldn't bring herself care. If it had been anyone else, she would have told him off but Alya had hurt her so badly over the years that she just didn't care. Frankly, she was just glad for a break from the constant slander that Alya threw at her. It was a shame because they had once been so close but Alya dug her grave when she choose Lila's side. As far as Marinette was concerned, Alya probably deserved whatever curse Luka had given her. He had been fuming after her visit and even more so when he found out how she had treated Rose and Juleka. They had kept it from him because they knew he would want to curse her but after finding that she had broken into his home, they decided it was time to let him deal with her and he had. Marinette didn't actually know the details of the curse but she was aware that he had only cursed her. She was asked him why and he answered that no matter how bad the crime or act, he believed in giving people a second chance. That's why he gave Lila a blessing. Sure, it messed up her lie but he hoped that been forced to tell the truth would humble her and she might change her ways. Sure, she would probably be angry with him for a good number of years to come and there was always a chance that it won't work but he can hope. With Alya, he had to take a different route. A blessing wouldn't benefit her in that way so a curse it was. If she truly came to realize her faults and tried to generally make up for the bad she had done then the curse would be broken but as it is with Lila, there is a chance that Alya will never learn. In which case, her curse will never be broken. The door bell rang, getting her attention.

"Hi, welcome- Oh... it's you," Marinette stated in a flat voice as she glanced over at Alya. She wore sunglasses and was holding onto Nino's arm. "What do you want?"

"Marinette?" She asked, making the girl frown as Nino helped her over. "It's been a while, girl,"

"You don't get to call me that,"

"R-Right," Alya replied, frowning. "Look, can I just have five minutes of your time? I get it if you say no but I just want to talk,"

"...Fine," She stated, crossing her arms. Alya nervously licked her lips. "Well?"

"I just want to say I'm sorry," She replied, surprising Marinette. "What I did was unforgivable and I understand that my apology will never make up for what I did to you. I shouldn't have taken Lila's side, I shouldn't have treated you the way I did. I shouldn't have bullied you or shoved you down the corridor and... there's so much I am sorry about. I'm sorry that I wrote all those awful articles on you and slandered your parents' bakery. I'm sorry for all the names I called you and all the horrible situations I put you in. I have nothing to give you but my words so from the bottom of my heart, I really am sorry,"

"Thank you for apologizing," Marinette stated. "But you hurt me so much that I can't accept it. Now please leave,"

Nino carefully moved his hand and gently tapped Alya's shoulder, making Marinette raise an eyebrow.

"Nino also says that he's sorry too," She stated, making Marinette frown. "He said he should have trusted you in the first place and should have spoken up and stood up for you instead of following me and the crowd... but we get it. We don't expect you to accept your apologies but thank you for letting us speak... good luck with the future, Marinette. I really hope you do well,"

With that, Alya and Nino turned to leave the shop. They walked out, just as Luka walked in, causing Nino to look down like he was afraid. Luka smirked a little before moving over to Marinette.

"How's my favorite witch?"

"You cursed Nino didn't you?" She asked with her arms crossed and an amused smile. "What did you do to him?"

"I took his voice since he had no need for it," He replied, shrugging a little as Marinette gave him his look. "And his hearing since he refused to listen to reason,"

"You're terrible," She grinned, moving over to him. "But thank you,"

"Hmm, do I get a reward for avenging you?" He asked, making her giggle as she wrapped her arms around and pressed her lips to his. He moved his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss before they pulled away. "I should curse your old school bullies more often,"

"You don't need to do that to get my kisses," She replied, kissing him again. He grinned and kissed back.

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bookloveravenue · 1 year

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Blood and Ash (book 5): A Soul of Ash and Blood by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Only his memories can save her…

A great primal power has risen. The Queen of Flesh and Fire has become the Primal of Blood and Bone—the true Primal of Life and Death. And the battle Casteel, Poppy, and their allies have been fighting has only just begun. Gods are awakening across Iliseeum and the mortal realm, readying for the war to come.

But when Poppy falls into stasis, Cas faces the very real possibility that the dire, unexpected consequences of what she is becoming could take her away from him. Cas is given some advice, though—something he plans to cling to as he waits to see her beautiful eyes open once more: Talk to her.

And so, he does. He reminds Poppy how their journey began, revealing things about himself that only Kieran knows in the process. But it’s anybody’s guess what she’ll wake to or exactly how much of the realm and Cas will have changed when she does.

#1 New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout revisits Poppy and Casteel’s epic love story in the next installment of the Blood and Ash series. But this time, Hawke gets to tell the tale.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/63847274-a-soul-of-ash-and-blood

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June 11, 2023

My Review: 5/5 Stars

This book was everything you could have wanted in a Casteel point of view story. Taking place shortly after the previous book, Casteel and Poppy are about to fight a battle they never have before. Instead of fighting an enemy they can they, their enemy is simply time. Time for Poppy to complete the final steps as she becomes the Primal of Life and Death. But there may be a very small catch of possibility as she rests in stasis. Advice given to Casteel? Talk to her. And what better way to remind Poppy of their story than to start at the beginning? It's time to find out exactly what was going on with Casteel during From Blood and Ash.

We learn SO many things about him and others during this time. I loved going back and seeing how he was feeling, turns out Casteel had quite a lot of mixed feelings during this time. And not only that, he was (and honestly still is) dealing with his capture. We get to see how deep that runs. Casteel is complicated and your heart goes out to him more to realize just how far it goes. We get to see many scenes I'm sure everyone wanted to see in his point of view. And most importantly, we get to see how he fell in love with Poppy, even when he didn't know it himself. I also loved that we get to see things that made no sense to Casteel at the time but came together later. What I loved most about this story though was that we weren't completely in the past. If you read the sneak peek of the first 3 chapters, you know the story starts in present day. And that is sprinkled throughout. Which again explains why Jennifer said that this book is truly book 5 and makes sense to read at this point rather than right after FBAA. Those pieces were my favorite because we got a lot of new information (the end alone had me reeling!!) and we get to see some reflection from Casteel. Also some hints of information that we have yet to learn but are promised to come later!! (You'll know exactly what I'm talking about when you see it.) This was important to me because it kept the series going in an important way.

I really adored this story and it was just another great addition to this series. I can't wait for the next ones coming and this world has only gotten more interesting and complex as the series goes on. You definitely do not want to miss this book!!

I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

#book #books #i love books #my review #book review #from blood and ash #a soul of ash and blood #jennifer l armentrout

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hxhhasmysoul · 2 years

Text

Is Jujutsu Kaisen feminism for 15yo boys?

The short answer is yes, so you can skip the rest of this ridiculously long post.

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Disclaimers:

If you haven’t read the manga up until chapter 204 you’ll see spoilers here, also you probably won’t know what/who I’m talking about at times.

I have adhd, this is rambly af, this post is actually for me to organise my thoughts and not a hot take I want to convince others to buy into. but anyone is welcome to read if they have the patience.

They/them pronouns for Akutami because if the cursed cat isn’t explicitly assigning a gender to themself, hell if I will.

They/them pronouns for Kenny.

Now let’s watch this post age like dairy. I so hope it won’t, Gege please don’t disappoint me.

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Let’s go.

There are a few things that make me obsessed with juju.

1. The fact that its plot and story structure are my wet dream - all these factions and individuals who are doing their own thing. All of these plots intertwining and coming together.

2. My sweet child Yuuji. *coughs* I mean, juju’s focus on characters. I’m very normal about Yuuji, I fucking swear.

3. The art, it’s simply beautiful but I also have thoughts.

4. The bs power system, I live for that stuff.

5. It’s aggressively progressive.

So lets focus on point 5.

Is juju as politically left as I am? Fuck no, not even close. There are things I wish it was braver on, like for instance the queerness. Fuck, braver on its leftism and feminism too. Is it very current and openly and aggressively progressive? Very much so.

If we look at the biggest antagonists of juju we get:

1. Toxic masculinity personified. A hyper-individualist. A 1000yo manosphere youtuber. A guy who thinks that strength should dictate hierarchy. A man who thinks he can hurt whomever he wants for his own pleasure and amusement because everyone is beneath him. A man who doesn’t care for anyone else but himself. A mass murderer and nihilist.

2. A 1000yo person of unknown gender who presents most often as a man. An eugenicist. Someone entitled to women’s bodies and their reproductive rights. Someone who thinks their own children are only as valuable as they fulfil their ambitions. Someone who thinks they can hurt anyone because their goals are superior, because people are instrumental to them. And also a fucking classist piece of shit. (honestly idk why half of the fandom reacted surprised to the hyper capitalist moment in the recent chapters, as if in their first scene in the entire manga they didn’t say: this is a nuisance but at least it’s the poors that are being burnt to death before my eyes. - Gege didn’t need to add this line there, it’s not relevant to the conversation that is happening then but the line is there anyway.)

3. Two awfully sexist clans which have huge superiority complexes and are built on bloodlines and traditions and breeding for power.

4. A bunch of mostly faceless old people who pull the strings from the shadows and do everything in the name of the status quo, constantly using tradition as an excuse. Who are afraid of the new, of the changes in society of new technologies. They won’t even accept them when they create powerful sorcerers.

5. A male presenting personification of human hate and fear of one another. Who again, feels entitled to the bodies of others and doesn’t respect the bodily autonomy of others. Who’s a destructive and cruel nihilist.

6. A young man who got radicalised into fascism because he was faced with the horrors of the status quo, of toxic tradition and backwater thinking and drew the wrong conclusions as to how to fix it.

On the other side we get kids and tired and/or silly millennials. And isn’t that just like real life, where the inaction and misdeeds of the previous generations blows up in the faces of today’s teens.

1. Teenagers. Teenagers who either don’t have family connections and come from lower classes. Or outcasts from their rich and powerful families. Children betrayed by traditions and the status quo. Children used or targeted by old people, ostracised, disrespected and violated. Children who have to suffer and die because the old people are only concentrating on maintaining the status quo.

2. Gojou, this ex edgy teen who saw his bf (I won’t police how you read that) get redpilled and radicalised into fascism. It was all fun and games, stanning the joker and tyler durden until Getou decided to seriously go full on fasc with it and Gojou was like: man for real? I thought we were memeing here. So then Gojou turned into one of those “this is how I got off the far right pipeline” videos. Gojou is actually this rich privileged boy but he’s trying, he really is taking his best shot at progressivism. (sealed)

3. A feminist who’s calling out and fighting worthless old farts who feel entitled to women’s bodies. And who wants to change the world to make life better for everyone.

4. A socially conscious man disillusioned with capitalism who takes a lot of responsibility for other people. (deceased)

5. A victim of eugenics who tries to be a good older brother to his brothers, also victims of eugenics. (the only one here who’s actually over 30)

6. Some other, less important, decent people in their twenties.

There are few people over 30 in juju that deserve any respect.

1. Headmaster Yaga, single dad. Does felting as a hobby. (deceased)

2. Yoshino Nagi, good single mum. (deceased)

3. Iori Utahime, a woman trying her best to do right by the teens despite having to work with Gojou.

4. Higuruma Hiromi, an idealist, mentally broken by the realities of the criminal justice system. Hobby: 5 min therapy sessions.

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Juju isn’t in any way shy about the fact that we should not respect elders when they fucking destroy everything. It’s established very early on that regressive traditionalists suck. That passive adults suck. That the status quo sux. That it should be the duty of adults to protect the children and not to make the world worse for everyone. That educating the youth and instilling different values in them is what can save us all, if we’re not beyond saving. That we need social change. We even get teen Noritoshi’s story, a cautionary tale about respectability, about trying to satisfy the requirements of the system to protect your own and how that is doomed to fail. And my leftist soul resonates with all that.

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So in this clear leftist propaganda there is also feminism.

And Gege does their best feminism when they aren’t trying, especially when they aren’t trying to verbalise it. My suspicion is that with this much internalised leftism Gege has internalised a lot of feminism but at a conscious level the fact that Gege was most likely socialised male takes its toll.

What I mean by that is that Nobara’s girlboss rant at Momo is weak. But I will give it a pass because Nobara is 16 and nothing about her screams discourse junkie so you know, it fits her character. Because even at it its least inspired the feminism in juju deserves a passing grade. Gege is trying.

There’s also the sad truth of shounen that women just aren’t meant to be prioritised in it, that it’s not the genre expectation. The fact that Maki gets so much focus and page time, that she has her own fucking arc, it’s already a lot for shounen. The fact that she’s built and now also permanently disfigured and the dudebros and weebs still worship the ground she walks on is a fucking achievement in itself. Proof that if you write a female character well you can take away her standard beauty and not tank her popularity. It’d be still much harder to make her not typically pretty from the start and achieve this but culture changes one step at a time. I wish we were there but we aren’t so I’m going to appreciate what I can get.

Maki is both verbalised and implicit feminism. Verbalised because she fucking slaughters a whole fucking clan of misogynists. It’s not subtle. Implicit because of her appearance and personality. She’s written like a male character but not meaning that she’s masculine or that she could be replaced in the narrative by a man. No, she has a narrative arc of her own, she’s written with agency and with no regard for making her personality be pleasing or oriented towards others. And her story is specifically a story of a woman in the world of jujutsu.

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Generally, in most cases, if you try to apply the feminist lens to a shounen manga you’ll just make yourself sad. You can do it for some shounen characters or plotlines and get something nice but you need to be very careful not to try to generalise that onto the whole work. My enjoyment of a lot of titles is dependant on my very conscious choice to rein in my feminism and leftism.

With juju, though, with juju you’re safe. You can do it. You can go for it. It’s not going to be the most radical and mind-blowing experience ever but it’s possible.

Because the female characters aren’t where the most of the feminism is. They can’t be, it’s a shounen and they don’t get enough pagetime. The verbalised feminism is very clear in how the villains are framed, how much misogyny you can find among the evil characters. The implicit feminism, the better one, is very strong in the young male characters.

Unlike in a lot of hyper violent media targeted at boys, in juju you never have these lines about what a man should be. Or what it means to be a man, especially a true man. What is most important is that nothing like that is ever said to a teenage boy. On the side we’re meant to root for we get a lot of different men and none of them are labelled as “true”. They are there for readers to identify with, to model behaviour after. And because no teen in the manga has his masculinity questioned then no reader will have to question his. Juju won’t contribute to such insecurity for anyone, an insecurity that can turn violent irl.

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Girls in juju are people.

What’s more, all the teen guys in juju have extremely normal relationships with the girls around them. They just interact with them without any exaggerated awkwardness or this “girls are strange, we can’t bond with them unless we want to date them”. Among the teens, the new generation, the hope for the future, there’s no separation built between men and women. Not through words and not through actions.

The nonsexual, organic friendship, built on idiot to idiot communication, Yuuji and Nobara have, gives me life. And it happens despite Yuuji not understanding Nobara at first. Because it doesn’t matter that she’s different from him, they don’t dwell on it, they don’t try to make the differences into a big thing, into a rift. There’s no big arc of them working out their differences because these differences aren’t artificially blown up to underline some core differences between men and women. They can fail to understand each other totally but they can still be friends, they can still vibe with one another, care for one another. Femininity and masculinity don’t need to be some issues to deal with while forming a friendship between a guy and a girl.

It’s fascinating how Yuuji fighting together with Megumi isn’t half as exciting and organic as when he fights together with Nobara. Their strengths and powers compliment each other so well. I’m actually angry that Gege didn’t let them fight Mahito together longer. Even if they would’ve done to Nobara the same thing they did. Why not let them be epic together again? (I’m also super angry at what they did to Nobara, she better come back, fucking hell)

And it’s a pattern too. Despite Yuuji being very much socialised as a guy in a very patriarchal and sexist society, so much so that he has a type at 15 and hangs bikini posters on his walls, he hasn't turned girls into aliens in his mind. They are still just people in his head. When Yuuji interacts with a real woman the male socialisation isn’t deeply rooted enough to hinder him. It’s never an issue.

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Toudou

Toudou tries to do this very masculine bonding thing with Yuuji and Yuuji is super confused by it. Because Yuuji’s relationships aren’t built on the concept of masculinity. And I mean Yuuji bonds with Toudou eventually because it’s Yuuji but we are shown the struggle when with Nobara or Megumi or Junpei it just happens. Also Yuuji is the only one who bonds with Toudou but that’s because Yuuji is compassion.

Toudou is generally disliked and his dumb male posturing contributes to that. Also in the Japanese context it’s very clear that Toudou is an unserious person and that’s how he’s meant to be perceived. If you have any doubt about that, the juju fanbook is there for you where Gege is very clear about that. Basically the idol thing is there to paint Toudou as immature. The whole conversation Megumi has with Toudou is a very clear lesson for teen boys. Be like Megumi and girls will like you, if you are a Toudou you’re a joke. You can be built and powerful and clever and still be a joke and girls won’t like you.

I like Toudou a lot btw, I actually think it’s funny that an 18yo boy thinks he reached some deeper truth about people because he knows what a fetish or kink is and he’s tactless enough to ask openly about it. It’s fucking hilarious but also some teen boys just be like that unironically. But I also like him because of how his character is framed and how he functions in the story. Because Toudou gives another important lesson to teen boys. A lesson about rejection. In the story he makes up in his head we see him confessing his feelings to Takada and she turns him down. And he just takes it. This is such an important message. In Japan stalking is a huge problem, stalkers murdering their victims is a problem. Men who feel entitled to women in such a violent way. And here we have a guy who gets rejected and takes the L with grace. And all he wants is for his best friend to console him.

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I’m very normal about Yuuji.

So the balls on Gege to name their typically shounen protag “calm compassion”, or maybe “endless humanity”, “endless compassion”, “quiet humanity”, all of the above? More?

Gojou says that to be a sorcerer one needs to be crazy. And he says that Yuuji has a few screws loose from the start. The thing is that yes, Yuuji is odd but not in the way the rest of the sorcerers are. So far in the manga Yuuji has never entered the state of mind that to my understanding Gojou is thinking about when he talks about being crazy. What I think Gojou means is this state of unhinged glee during the fight. And the ability to compartmentalise the fights and the kills.

So far in his fights Yuuji has been neutral, proud of himself when he was doing well, hyper focused, frustrated, desperate, depressed and filled with all-consuming rage. Never filled with unhinged glee. And he hasn’t compartmentalised any fight, any failure or any kill, not one, they all seep into a huge ball of guilt inside him. And it’s his kills and Sukuna’s together. Yuuji’s compassion is actively destroying him from the inside. Yuuji can’t disconnect from his humanity and that’s a basic job requirement for a sorcerer.

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Yuuji constantly shows how much emotional intelligence he has. When he defuses the situation with Junpei at the school. When Megumi finds out about Tsumiki going under the bridge. When he’s with Chousou. When he puts his depression on hold to help Megumi during the culling game. He shows understanding, emotional support, physical contact and prioritises the emotions of others over his own.

Compassion, empathy, responsiveness towards others, willingness to adjust and accommodate aren’t stereotypically masculine traits. No, they are culturally feminine in many places around the world, including Japan.

Yuuji is also passive and reactive despite being stronger than normal people, and that too is culturally more feminine than masculine. Yuuji doesn’t really have much of the shounen protag drive. It can be lit in him in the form of resilience or determination or rage but it’s not self-sustaining, reactive not proactive

And speaking of Japan and East Asia, what Yuuji is displaying can’t be written off as collectivism either. Because these reactions are personal, they aren’t towards the society at large. They aren’t giri aka a specifically culturally Japanese sense of duty, or any other of several similar concepts. There is no sense of duty or obligation in what Yuuji does, not on a group level. Yuuji says that he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if people got hurt because he didn’t try to get rid of Sukuna. For him it’s not because it’s the moral thing to do, or the right thing to do but because he’s concerned about the suffering of those people on this very empathetic level. As Nanami says: he genuinely gets upset on behalf of others.

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That might be why Yuuji isn’t really that popular as a character. Maybe that’s why people prefer Megumi who’s more typically masculine, stoic, distant, intellectual but also proactive and not reactive in his violence and values.

A lot of people consider Yuuji weak. They complain about how much he loses and how in most of his fights he gets carried by other characters, how they are actually the winning factor and not him.

I actually like that a lot. I think it makes the story interesting, it makes Yuuji interesting that he’s at his best when he’s not alone, that he’s actually doing best when he’s support. That his strength is in how he compliments others. I honestly don’t want him to change into a more typical shounen protagonist. Thematically the way his fights go suits him perfectly because humans are a social species, we thrive on cooperation. And if Yuuji is boundless humanity he shouldn’t stand alone.

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I’m very normal about Yuuji so it turned into a post about him. I swear this wasn’t the plan. The plan was to write about leftist propaganda. The other guys in juju are actually really cool too. Like Megumi, him constantly trying to figure out his values and reconcile what’s happening around him with them is great. Yuuta with his need to belong and justify himself is amazing. Chousou the family oriented sap (please survive baby). Hakari who said fuck you to the conservatives even though he wasn’t so well positioned as Gojou and it resulted in him getting ostracised. I’m not going to shout out everyone or go deeper into these characters but I really like how there isn’t one type of masculinity in juju.

I don’t know how much these are conscious choices by Gege, or how much it’s just their internalised leftism seeping through. But it’s nice. It feels good to read. And I hope that because the messaging isn’t always as didactic as with the Zen’in or the Kamo clans, that it’ll go down well and actually be this tiny crumb of feminism in the minds of 15yo boys who read it. And with how hype juju is atm, I hope that overt leftism will strengthen in the pop cultural mainstream directed at boys. And with it feminism.

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Could juju be better?

Of course, there’s no perfect work of art. No author is perfect and perfectly enlightened. No work is ever going to 100% match with anyone’s politics, sensibilities or expectations. etc etc. But I really think juju already does a lot. The fact that it’s open to a feminist reading is a lot. And I appreciate it for it.

I really wish juju was better on the queer stuff but I’m wary of assigning blame here. Idk if it’s Gege who misunderstands stuff and is uninformed and crude. Or is it because they write a shounen series for Shounen Jump a corporation which is averse to risk.

I really wish Kirara had a canon gender and identity. I wish Gege made an official call on Kenny’s gender as they did with Tengen. I wish Gege also clearly stated that Kenny is Yuuji’s mum because the fandom cishets are really twisting themselves into pretzels trying to come up with theories that the mum is actually some woman controlled by Kenny and not Kenny. I wish Gege made NobaMaki canon instead of drawing fanart of the ship and pretending it’s not what it looks like. And even though ItaFushi leaves me mostly cold I wish Megumi’s answer proved to be what all the itafushis headcanon it to be, even if it was to prove to be one sided. I wish I wish I wish.

#off topic #rambling #my ramblings #jjk #collecting my thoughts #i write out my adhd i'm sorry #i didn't even talk about character designs but i ran out of steam #i have extreme juju brainrot #this is the tip of the iceberg #i'm sure i forgot half the things i wanted to say #i will regret this in the morning

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ohnohetaliasues · 1 year

Text

Stones to Abbigale {Ch. 10}

(Kat)

Here we go again. I am still alive and actually still active on tumblr, but I mostly do writing and fanfiction now. I still enjoy the occasional fic review, though.

If I have to read Abbi and James going any further than kissing I’m going to need either a brain transplant or a lobotomy, whichever makes me forget faster.

But I know they will. I know they will and I will have to read it with my two eyes and you will be able to read my suffering. I will put a warning when that chapter comes around in case any of you want to skip it. I honestly wouldn’t blame you.

Let’s get into it.

The next morning I was surprised Davis didn’t leap up to greet me as I walked on the bus with Abbi. We sat across from him but he just looked out his window, surrounding himself in a silent gloom while paying us no attention.

I mean, there’s the chance he’s traumatized. He did just survive a shooting.

“Hey Davis, how are you today?” I asked.

Davis replied without turning towards me, “Why don’t you have a car? You’re 17, only losers like me ride the bus.”

Well, that’s a rather rude way of responding to a friend asking you how you are.

Abbi gave me a look of concern.

As she should.

Though Abbi didn’t know Davis too well yet, she understood him to be a happier person; neither of us expected Davis to say something so negative.

I responded to Davis, “Not everyone has a white picket fence life Davis, some people have to ride the bus.”

I hate the way the dialogue tags are written before the actual fucking dialogue. It’s so irritating to read and it is nOT HOW YOU WRITE DIALOGUE.

Davis turned angrily and spoke as he pierced me with the most intense glare I had ever seen, “You don’t think I know that? You should get a job! Buy your own car! What are you even doing with your life?”

In case you forgot, Davis, teenagers usually don’t have everything figured out. As much as I hate James, there’s no reason for him to be attacked for something as completely fucking mundane as riding the school bus.

I sat back, giving up on changing his mood and thought to myself “Happiness, as far as I care, can’t be acquired through any means if love is not involved.”

If I got a job on top of school, I’d have barely any time to spend with Abbi.

She now apparently lives with you, plus you go to school with her. You’ll see her plenty.

I needed her more than anything and I thought Davis knew this.

Broski, he probably needs you, too.

He’s supposed to James’ best friend, but all James cares about is Abbi and I imagine Davis is probably annoyed and hurt that James is only paying attention to his girlfriend and not making time for his best friend after something like this happened.

Or Onion wants to create drama, and making Davis angry for some reason is the most low effort way of doing so. My money is on that since I don’t think that man is capable of intelligent, complex thoughts, nor is he capable of any kind of decent storytelling.

Davis was probably just upset over everything that had happened recently and this was his way of coping.

It’s honestly more concerning that James isn’t as affected by the shooting. Davis is reacting in a normal way to a massive, traumatizing, and tragic event. All James cares about is the girl in his bed.

Trying to close the conversation on a less negative note I said, “Well buddy, I’m here if you need me!” with the same tone he always used on me.

No, you’re not.

He rolled his eyes, scoffed and scooted closer to his window. Abbi remained next to me, running her fingers over the hairs on my hand. It was such a positive distraction.

Why is she doing that instead of just holding his hand? That’s not a thing I’ve ever heard of someone doing. Did Onion forget that sometimes people hold hands and like, run their fingers over the person they’re holding hands with’s knuckles?

Later that morning I found myself in my History class staring at a very nervous Mr. Hanson.

“You all realize the President of the United freaking States is going to be here right?” he asked the class.

Okay, two things.

That was actually formatted how a quotation should, but that’s probably not going to stick.

Secondly, WHAT?!

I think this was released in like, 2015 or so, meaning that was Obama, so does this just make this book a very elaborate ‘Obama was there’ meme? I will choose to look at it that way since that makes it a minuscule amount less insufferable.

I know that the President sometimes goes to schools to speak. President Obama once just arrived at a DC high school. He just casually strolled into a classroom, like the legend he is. I guess it makes sense for him to show up to speak in the wake of a tragedy like this, but it was just so fucking jarring that this was announced the day it was happening instead of, I dunno, days in advance like how planning usually works?

Whoever planned this needs to be fired.

Most the students looked confused, as we were not briefed when exactly we would see him.

Why? Why not?

A voice erupted as our classroom door was swiftly pushed open.

“The President of the United freaking States is about to arrive ladies and gentlemen,” said a large man wearing a black suit.

This is all happening so fast I don’t even know what to say.

Mr. Hanson laughed nervously over the fact that, what we soon realized was a member of the Secret Service, had overheard him.

Thanks for that unnecessary comma after ‘Secret Service.’ Also, that whole sentence in general was just a fucking mess.

It should be written something like: “Mr. Hanson laughed nervously when he realized that someone had overheard him, and we later realized said person was a member of the Secret Service.”

See? The sentence structure is better, it reads easier, and it doesn’t make your brain hurt. But no, no editing allowed, no criticism, it’s against Onion laws.

Throw me in Onion Jail then, I guess.

Also, did the Secret Service member just announce the president arriving by saying “the President of the freaking United States,” like he’s surprised by the person he works for? Is he an idiot, or is he just constantly in awe of the President? My money is on both.

Edit: I realize he’s quoting Mr. Hanson, but I like my joke that I made and I’m keeping it there even if it’s stupid.

Mr. Hanson turned to the class and in a rushed tone said “Alright, think before you ask the President anything, no stupid questions!”

Ah, there goes the proper formatting of dialogue. We had a good run.

Another voice came from outside the door “You’re right Mr. Hanson, there are no stupid questions.”

Hello, Obama.

We all froze to see it was the President who had spoken.

As he walked in the room I quickly realized he was much taller than I had assumed from watching TV. The President centered himself in the room as the Secret Service asked Mr. Hanson to take a seat at his desk.

Four members of the USSS stood behind the President as he began to speak,

Why? It would make more sense for them to be stationed at the doors, but I’m not an expert on the US Secret Service so I really wouldn’t know. It just seems crowded as fuck to have four people standing behind you while standing in an already not very large classroom, but I digress.

“I’m not here to bring a dark cloud into this room. I want to be uplifting, to be helpful, and I want all of you to feel like you can say whatever you like, without any fear of criticism or repercussion”

There is no period at the end of that sentence.

Chris Jenkins, the class clown, blurted out “Why are you such a D-Bag?”

Um.

I have met stupid people. But I don’t think I’ve met anyone that stupid.

Actually, that’s a lie, there were some massive dumbasses I went to high school with. And, truthfully, who I go to college with, currently.

Most everyone in the class sat in shock as Mr. Hanson violently lurched up like a frantic animal yelling in a high-pitched tone “Chris! How dare you disrespect the...”

If I have to read the words ‘most everyone’ again I am going to have a fucking conniption. I don’t think Onion ever passed high school English class. Hell, I don’t think he passed middle school English.

He has the IQ of a fucking life raft, though, so nobody is surprised by that.

If you’ll allow me to go into a writer rant here for a second, I’ll tell you why this is wrong. ‘Most everyone’ is not proper grammar. The word ‘most’ means the greatest part of something, as all of you undoubtedly know, so ‘most everyone’ means the greatest part of everyone here. What greatest part are you talking about? Their heads and torsos? Their legs and torsos?

While people do use it, it sounds fucking wrong. Like, if you replace it with ‘almost everyone’ it works and sounds normal, but ‘most everyone’ sounds fucking stupid.

“Mr. Hanson.” the President interrupted, “Thank you.”

A USSS member then asked Mr. Hanson to return to his seat.

The dialogue formatting is making me so goddamn mad that I have to correct it because it’s such a headache to read. I leave the dialogue tags as they are, because that means I can make fun of them, but I cannot read something where there are no fucking paragraph breaks when somebody speaks.

DOES THIS MAN NOT KNOW THE BASIC RULES OF WRITING DIALOGUE? NO. HE JUST DECIDED TO WRITE A BOOK WITHOUT PRACTICING AND PUBLISHED HIS FIRST DRAFT.

There is nothing more impersonal that critiquing someone’s grammar, but even when fans offered to help correct spelling and grammar, Onion refused. So, like a moron, he released the book unedited. Or he let his partner edit it. I don’t know, they didn’t do a very good job if that’s the case.

The President walked over to Chris, pulling his own pants slightly back so he could crouch.

Why the fuck does he feel the need to crouch?

“Now you may feel I am what you said, a D-Bag, but you should know to address me as President D-Bag as I, and many Americans, believe I earned the title of President.”

Uh. Okay.

Sick burn, I guess?

Chris, now shaking and not knowing what to say let out a nervous and horribly awkward chuckle.

Why is he shaking? It’s not like the President threatened him.

The President smiled and returned to the front of the room as he said “Now what other questions do you all have for me?”

Literally everyone in class aside from Chris raised their hand.

‘Literally everyone’ is a nice change from ‘most everyone.’

Y’know, because it fucking makes sense.

Also, why the fuck is he taking questions instead of making a speech about the shooting, or saying what his response plan will be for gun violence so these kids don’t have to be afraid? Nah, he just pulls up like ‘so who wants to ask me a question?’ Like this is a Reddit AMA.

The President looked directly at me and said “James Patrick, the boy who nearly saved the day, what is your question?”

Nearly saved the day? James didn’t do shit. All he did was run around looking for Abbi, he didn’t save anyone’s lives. The incessant praise James receives for doing absolutely fucking nothing is baffling.

I replied, “You know who I am?”

He responded, “I’ve read up on this school and the recent events quite a bit. How are your feet healing up?”

Why would some random ass dude who got glass in his feet be in any kind of official report? Sure, his name would be among the survivors and witnesses, but he didn’t really do anything of note. This is absolute bullshit.

I was overwhelmed but I had to keep it together so I quickly replied, “Really well actually, the ambulance guys did an amazing job getting the glass and dirt out.”

You mean the EMTs? The paramedics? They have a technical name. This makes it seem like Onion forgot what they were called and just didn’t bother to google it.

Which, honestly, is probably what happened.

The President followed with “That’s wonderful to hear, what was your question?”

I replied, “I just wanted to know how you feel about the things people call you, in the news and around the world.”

Completely irrelevant to the situation at hand, but okay.

The President gave a slightly sad smile and replied “I cannot, and do not want to control what people say about me.

Why? You wanna have a good approval rating, don’t you?

All I can really fully control is what I myself am saying and doing. I find myself repeatedly stating that I came into office with the best intentions, and I continue to lead as President with those very same intentions. Some decisions I have to make aren’t always fair to me, my family or many people around the world, but sometimes your only options lie between the end of a slipknot or the blade a guillotine, and that’s the burden I chose to carry.”

Why does this sound like something Trump would say?

Gross.

Also, ‘sometimes your only options lie between the end of a slipknot or the blade of a guillotine?’ That is an absolutely bonkers thing to say to a room full of high school students.

The class paused for a few seconds and then all at once everyone but Chris & myself raised their hands again.

Why— Why the ampersand? That’s not proper grammar. You do not use an ampersand to replace the word ‘and’ in a sentence in prose writing, the two are not interchangeable.

One of the USSS members spoke up “Mr. President we need to move on.”

He was there for like, two minutes. Why the hell is he going from class to class individually instead of just holding an assembly and speaking in front of the whole school?

The President lifted his hand and said to the class “I want you all to know there are going to be some major changes around your school. I’ve approved a budget shift that will help fund significant renovations and an effective security program that will promote a safer environment for everyone here.”

Uh. Great. Thanks. Better than thoughts and prayers, I suppose.

“I will not stand by and do nothing when these incidents occur. So I’m doing what any responsible person in my position would do to make you all feel safer in this learning environment.”

As much as I hate Onion, we apparently share the same views on restricting guns and gun laws. Not sure how I feel about that.

He then smiled as the USSS opened the door behind him. “Thank you all, and Chris, remember our talk, ok?”

The ‘President D-bag’ talk? That was not really a life lesson, it was just a thing that happened.

Also, Onion should be called President D-bag.

Chris remained speechless as the President walked out.

I relate.

Mr. Hanson then stood up while looking at Chris as if he had just slapped Mr. Hanson’s mother right in front of him. Mr. Hanson maintained his glare as he walked to the front of class.

Uh, I mean, he’d probably get a stern talking to. Even the idiots I went to high school were a bit less fucking brazen than calling the POTUS a douchebag.

Mr. Hanson sighed deeply and looked down at the floor, he then asked, “Did anyone else almost pass out?”

No, just you.

The class erupted with laughter as the teacher wiped sweat from his forehead with the towel he used as a white board eraser. The towel smeared ink all over his forehead, which made us all laugh even harder. Unfortunately I was faced with the reality that he would blame his humiliation on me if I did not tell him right away, as my next period still required I act as a Teachers’ Assistant for him.

Why the fuck would be blame James for that? James didn’t do anything.

The first thing Abbi said to me when I met with her later that day in gym class was “So it looks like Mrs. Stanley’s getting a new desk.”

I replied “The president?”

“Yep, he met with you guys too?”

I nodded and she added “In other news, Jason has been hitting on me, not sure what to do about it.”

Tell him to stop? I mean, easier said than done, but you could try that. Or you could break his arms, whichever comes first.

I replied concerned “Like just flirting, or is it heavy?”

She answered, “I think the whole saving our lives thing went to his head. He just grabbed my butt in class after the President left the room.”

I went silent.

Trying to reassure me she said “I yelled at him not do it again.”

Uh, good. Holy fuck. What a tool.

I replied, “Did you talk to the teacher?”

She answered “Mrs. Stanley saw I was uncomfortable and said she would give him detention if he tried to do it again.”

No, give him detention immediately, he fucking groped someone. Hell, suspend him.

I loved that she did everything I would have done, leaving no room for me to imagine potential alternatives to what she felt about Jason’s chauvinistic act.

She isn’t helpless without you, James. Fun fact, women are autonomous beings who can care for themselves. We’re cool like that.

I smiled slightly and said “Well, thank you for telling me...”

She interrupted “What about you? Any girls grabbing your butt these days?”

Interesting topic of conversation. I, too bond with my nonexistent significant other over ass grabbing.

I replied with a slight smile, “Nope, guess my butt just isn’t as good looking as yours.” She squealed and hugged me

Why is that her response?

as the substitute walked in and blew his whistle.

Oh I forgot they were in gym class.

“All right everyone let’s play some badminton!” the sub said, pronouncing everything as it was spelled.

Raymon responded “Don’t you mean bad-mitten?”

No.

Oh god, did he not read this out loud?

Badminton is often pronounced more like bad-mitten when spoken out loud, so—Why would the sub say it like that? You know what, nevermind.

Jesus Christ, these attempted jokes are exhausting.

The teacher replied “I didn’t Ray-man, is that ok with you?”

Now angered, he responded, “It’s Ray-mon!”

This is aggressively stupid.

The sub laughed and said “Alright everyone, do you want to see Ray-man vs. your sub in bad-min-ton?”

A lot of us screamed “Yeah!” and so the game ensued.

Raymon seemed to get hit with the birdie more than the actual racket did. We kept laughing because he was trying so hard to look cool but kept failing repeatedly and as a result, looked completely goofy.

I’m actually decent at badminton, and it’s honestly not very hard, so this guy is apparently just really uncoordinated.

After the teacher had scored on him for the 10th time Raymon threw down his racket.

The teacher loudly asked, “So is that game? No more bad-min-ton?”

Trying to sound tough Raymon screamed, “This is a sissy game anyway!”

Shut your face.

Someone watching yelled to everyone “Uh oh watch out he might try to shoot us too!”

Who the fuck would say that?

Why the fuck would you say that?

Like, holy fuck that is not okay on every level.

We all went silent; one girl jumped up and walked off in a hurry. I could see she was holding her cries in until she could get out of the room.

A valid response, Jesus Christ. The insensitive asshole who said the deserves a kick to the teeth.

Raymon angrily looked over at the person who made the comment. The individual who yelled put their head down.

In what fucking world would it be okay to make a joke like that after something like this happened? In the place it happened?

This person would be suspended. They’d be in huge trouble. Jesus Christ I hate this book more than any book I’ve ever read. This makes Blood Raining Night look like fucking Shakespeare. I had more fun reading My Immortal than I have had reading a single letter of this drivel. At least My Immortal doesn’t rely on shock and outrage to forward its (dubious) storyline, it’s just pure insanity. But at least it’s fun insanity.

This is just nihilistic, pretentious insanity.

They were obviously trying to avoid being pierced by Raymon’s glare. Raymon then furiously walked off, throwing a tantrum by kicking a garbage can while pulling off his shirt as he passed through the boys’ locker room entrance.

A VALID FUCKING RESPONSE.

“Alright everyone, pick a partner and start playing!” the teacher said just before following Raymon into the locker room.

Honestly, I’d worry if he was okay. In no way was the shooting Raymon’s fault, and I cannot fathom why that person said that to him. That last section was wholly unnecessary.

Naturally Abbi was on my team and we played against a couple of people who were equally unenthusiastic about the sport so we basically just stood around talking about how dorky our uniforms were and basically anything we could to keep our minds preoccupied.

Usually not what I talked about while playing badminton in high school PE, but to each their own, I suppose.

Later that night at dinner, we had to put together a makeshift chair for Rick as Abbi was still staying with us.

A makeshift chair??? What would that even look like? A bunch of pots stacked on top of each other? A stump cut from the back yard? Do they not have like, a folding chair or even a stool? Why the hell does he get a makeshift chair?

My mom began to talk about their move “So Rick let me know he��s happy to help cover your food, utilities etcetera while you stay here in the condo.” she said, Abbi and I looked at each other happily and hugged excited that it was confirmed. Abbi and I didn’t have to move anywhere.

Okay, let me get this straight.

James’ mom is just completely fine with her teenaged son living with his also teenaged girlfriend in a condo, alone, and is just chill with having her rich boyfriend who she has been dating for not nearly long enough pay for food and utilities? And said rich boyfriend is also fine with doing this?

She’s just… fine with this? In what goddamn world would any parent allow that? She deserves to have CPS called on her.

I’m going to walk into the goddamn ocean if this is just an excuse to get rid of adult supervision so these two idiots can have copious amounts of sex that I will then have to read with my two eyes.

My mom continued, “Your sister is going to come with us.”

I looked at my sister and asked, “What’s up sis?”

She just pushed food around on her plate and mumbled, “It’s whatever. I don’t want to talk about it.”

My mom gave me a look that I should just drop it, so I did.

Okay, why though? If we’re going by this logic, why isn’t his sister staying behind with them? She goes to the same school and is half way through her senior year, it would be stupid to rip her away from school so close to graduation.

I had a friend in high school whose father got a new job that sent the family to Hawaii, but she wanted to stay and finish high school, so she stayed with a friend for the school year. But the difference there is that she was staying with adults instead of alone in a house her parents paid for. She was a minor, and not an emancipated one, so she had to stay with a guardian by law. This whole thing makes absolutely zero fucking sense.

Abbi squeezed my hand; she was still smiling widely at me. I was pretty overwhelmed with what this all meant as well. One of the greatest pending burdens hovering over my head had been removed from my life completely. However ridiculous it sounds, knowing I could be separated from Abbi, to me, was the equivalent of a doctor telling me I might have cancer, only to reveal later, it was nothing. I felt like I was getting my life back, without ever really having it taken away in the first place.

Okay. I can put up with a lot without getting utterly furious, but that pisses me off. You do not get to compare almost having to move away from your girlfriend to a possible diagnosis of cancer. My mother just recently beat cancer, and the effect that this diagnosis had on my family when it was given was earth shattering. It was not even comparable to having to move away from a significant other. It was one of the hardest, most terrifying periods my family has ever been through, and it traumatized my sister, effecting her in ways that it didn’t affect me or my father. It was horrifying, all of it, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

Onion is an insensitive dickweed, and the fact that this comparison was even made is insulting. Having to leave a significant other is sad, sure, but it is not on the same level as a life changing diagnosis like fucking cancer. Don’t you dare make that comparison, you fucking ingrate.

Onision, fuck you. I hope you choke on your next meal, wherever you are.

Back to this stupid fucking trash book.

After dinner, Abbi and I cuddled in bed while listening to some of her favorite bands. She would sing along to the songs, knowing most the words, as I just kept my eyes closed, paying close attention to how her skin felt pressed against mine.

In that room alone with her, I often found myself feeling like nothing else mattered. She gave all my senses something to devour to the point where I began to feel like the rest of the world barely existed at all.

The level of obsession James has with her is not healthy. A person’s life should not merely revolve around their partner. At least, nobody mentally well and stable.

I fell asleep listening to the sound of her beautiful voice, softly singing.

Great. I love that this book has inspired rage among the bottomless void of utter apathy that I’ve been feeling thus far. Makes for an amazing and totally not draining reading experience.

Now, I have come to a very obvious conclusion. Onision, Greg, whatever you call yourself nowadays, I frankly don’t care. I don’t know if he’ll ever see this, and I don’t care about that either, because interacting with him sounds like an exhausting waste of time, but I need to say this anyway.

Onision Gregory James Jackson cannot write. He cannot create interesting characters or stories, and he uses topics that need to be handled with respect and care as plot devices. Abhorrently, he uses horrible, traumatic events as some sick form of character development, but these events that are supposed to cause character development cause none of the aforementioned at all. All of these characters are more static than a broken television, and have the same amount of flavor as a single slice of white bread. I also hate all of them. He has been given every opportunity to improve, but refuses criticism, one of the main things that helps a writer grow. I value criticism above all else as a writer, and without it and the practice at my craft, I would not be where I am today.

Also, Greggy-poo, if you do see this, you can’t get this review taken down. You can’t do shit. Because this is transformative content since it’s commentary. I am adding my own insight into this, and making it into something new, and it is therefore protected by fair use. And I’ll just keep on posting.

Whatever. I’ll see you later.

—Kat

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