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nebulousbrainsoup · 10 months

Note

Hello! I couldn't think of anything good to request. But I figured I'd try. 😅 How about head cannon? ATEEZ takes you to their high school reunion and you run into their first love. How would each member handle you finding out about this person from their past?

감사합니다! 🫰🏿

most of the month later...

you sure can! this was so fun to write, ngl. trying to reflect their different personalities in the details... ah, i loved it. thank you so much for your request, noona! i think sannie's is the longest*, so enjoy that~

*(editing ash here: it is)

ateez reacts: class reunion ft. their first love

fulfilled as part of my 150(ish) followers event, currently closed.

PAIRING: ot8 x gn!reader TAGS/WARNINGS: none this time but lmk if i missed smth! GENRE: fluff, lil bit of angst (hj & san) WORD COUNT: ...~3k? really? oops masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

kim hongjoong ✵ wc : 407

✵ oh man. Most likely to have a messy break-up

✵ not necessarily pettiness and backstabbing messy, but emotionally charged and hard on everyone messy

✵ because hj is a passionate person—his work, his friends, his beliefs; his love life is no exception (and it was worse in high school)

✵ he does everything in his power to divert you both away from them

✵ honestly, they’ve probably barely spoken since then and neither knew the other was coming

✵ but when you two end up at the snack table at the same time while your boyfriend is in the bathroom, you entirely oblivious and them walking on eggshells, they break the ice

✵ and you’re kind of irked at how surprised you are when they’re so sweet to you

✵ with how quick hj had been all night to steer you away from them, you were expecting venom and violence and god knows what else. but they’re kind and nice to talk to and honestly seem a little wary of you if anything (should they be?)

✵ it’s not until they stop talking mid-sentence and you feel an arm slip around your waist, making you jump a little—hj doesn’t do skinship normally, much less in public—and you turn to see a mess of emotions swirling behind his eyes that everything falls into place

✵ the conversation is quick and stilted on matter what, and he keeps his hand on you somehow the whole time

✵ if they’re petty, he’s having none of it. he’ll cut them off mid-sentence, chastise them for their actions and drag you back out the front doors. it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been there, you’re heading back home for a movie night in. snacks, drinks, and cuddles are all on hj as a form of apology

✵ if they’re kind, he’ll stay and make slightly-awkward small talk for a while, with you acting as a buffer to keep the tense silences from getting too long. when they finally leave you, he’s staring after them with a slightly pained expression, and you have to tap his shoulder to bring him back to you. in this version, you’re the one to suggest movie night

✵ either way, he apologizes for the way he acted when you get home, and you’re… kind of stunned, reassuring him that you understand why he acted the way he did

✵ “i just loved them so much, once. ah, well. it can’t be that bad, really, if it led me to you.”

park seonghwa ✵ wc : 344

✵ easily the most graceful handler of this situation

✵ does not strike me as a messy break-up haver; he’d be more of an amicable parting of ways type

✵ most likely to be friends with his ex before y’all pull up to the function anyway, tbh

✵ let’s pretend that’s not the case tho, just for funsies (and an attempt at chaos)

✵ he’d know who was coming beforehand as much as he could, because if he isn’t going to actually be able to catch up with people, he doesn’t see the point in going

✵ so he knows in advance, and warns you/fills you in on all the dirty details

✵ not that there really are any—it was all pretty straight-forward. neither of them thought a high school romance was worth halting their own ambitions for

✵ hwa is definitely the type to make his rounds and then settle in with old friends to really talk and relax for the rest of it, so you run into them pretty early on

✵ if they’re petty, he indulges it for about thirty seconds with a narrowed gaze, a tense smile and stilted nods while he scopes out the quickest escape route. the moment he finds even a slightly viable option, he’s raising a hand to that person and whisking you away without a second thought, leaving his ex blinking after you both

✵ if they’re kind, you probably see them a few times throughout the night. they talk for the longest out of any of his acquaintances, and they’ll stop by your guys’ table once you settle down for the evening

✵ overall, it’s a net positive experience for both of you. you enjoy seeing hwa catching up with his old friends, and he appreciates you coming with him and talking with his friends so much

✵ he’s just smiling softly the entire drive home, holding your hand and thanking you for coming with him over and over, until you’re giggling at him about it

✵ “really, i mean it, thank you. i wouldn’t have had as much fun with anybody else by my side.”

jeong yunho ✵ wc : 316

✵ yu strikes me as the type to have wanted things to work out with his highschool sweetheart, despite knowing that it probably wouldn’t, so seeing them hurts a little bit

✵ he doesn’t really let it show, but you know him well enough to know note the slight drop in his energy when they inevitably approach the two of you

✵ he introduces you as his partner to them, but doesn’t give you context for their previous relationship

✵ (you don’t need it, he told you who they were before you came, maybe even before the reunion was even an idea if you’ve been dating long enough)

✵ he has an arm around you the whole conversation, and you can feel him pull you just a little closer when their reminiscing hits a spot that’s a little too tender

✵ bonus points if you react and lean into him, you’ll get that little smile that makes his cheeks rounder

✵ you’re honestly a little impressed with how unaffected he looks on the outside

✵ if they’re petty, he will refuse to stoop to their level. he keeps things short, sweet and polite, sweeping you away to catch up with someone else the moment he has the opportunity, keeping you from getting caught in their claws

✵ if they’re kind, he reflects that back, laughing with them and letting them embarrass him with the stories they have together. it’s kind of sweet, and they might keep in contact afterwards

✵ all-in-all, he doesn’t want to spend ridiculously long talking to them, even if they seem to be getting along well

✵ if you ask him why, he’d flush, admitting he didn’t want you to be jealous or think he’d go back to them when he has you

✵ it confuses you, and you laugh, thanking him for the thought but reassuring him you’d never think that

✵ “good. because you’re the only one i want. you’re stuck with me.”

kang yeosang ✵ wc : 394

✵ poor boy is flustered oh my god

✵ i don’t think the break-up itself matters overmuch for him; he doesn’t dwell on it so it doesn’t affect his actions/feelings the way it does with some of the others

✵ he honestly probably didn’t even think about the fact that they’d be there

✵ it takes him a while to register that they’re even at the function though, once you’re there

✵ either one of his friends has to point it out or he literally runs into them, i truly don’t know which is more likely

✵ he definitely doesn’t go out of his way to track them down or anything, though, so they end up coming to you in some way

✵ no matter how, it results in a short-circuiting sangie and some rapid blinking as he wrangles himself back into his brain

✵ you have to introduce yourself to stall for him while you lace your fingers and pull him back from whatever cloud his soul sailed off to

✵ he’s another that doesn’t really want to spend too much time talking to someone he has a history with, especially out of respect for you (whether you mind or not)

✵ if they’re petty, he’s immediately more flustered and stumbling over his words a little. yeo doesn’t strike me as the type to date someone who’s even remotely petty, so this either means his ex had a hidden side or has gone through a major character change, and he’s just… stunned. he’s flashing you apologetic looks and reaching for your hand (if he isn’t holding it already) while he tries to efficiently but kindly break the conversation off

✵ if they’re kind, it’s honestly more of a passing greeting than anything. they’re both comfortable doing the bare minimum, saying hello and introducing their current partners to each other, asking about jobs and just… moving on the second they can. the awkwardness might be a little unbearable tbh

✵ he’s pretty neutral about the whole experience, and you guys honestly probably don’t stay for long

✵ when you get home it’s snacks, movies, and cuddles on the couch for the rest of the night

✵ he thanks you for going with him while you’re prepping snacks with a hug from behind and a kiss to the cheek

✵ “i know it was boring for you. i appreciate you so much for doing that for me, my love.”

choi san ✵ wc : 457

✵ an absolute wildcard

✵ the one constant is that he still has emotions about it, but i’m not sure he’d let you know that, partially bc he might be in denial that he still has emotions about it

✵ like hwa, checked the guest list and warns you that the ex will be there, but doesn't give you the details

✵ borderline avoidant, but not to the same extent hj is; he’s just keeping a casual eye on them and floating around

✵ if it manages to keep you both farther away from them, all the better

✵ when you inevitably run into them, his mood shifts and he’s just a little more reserved

✵ he’s definitely already been holding your hand or close to it all night, but when they’re finally in front of you, the handhold gets a little tighter or his arm snakes around your shoulder/waist/hips and he tugs you in while he introduces you

✵ bonus points if you squeeze his hand or loop an arm around him in turn; you’ll get that soft little smile out of him

✵ once the conversation actually starts, he’s drawing patterns with his fingers wherever he’s got a hold of you

✵ if they’re petty, you can feel his grip on you tighten immediately and he shoots you a worried glance. he’s immediately looking for a way out, disregarding whatever the ex is saying entirely. if he hasn’t found a viable excuse in thirty seconds, he’s making one up; waving to a friend that isn’t there, downing his drink in one go, claiming he needs to go to the bathroom and doesn’t want you to get lost; he doesn’t care how it makes him look, he’s getting you both out of there now

✵ if they’re kind, he’ll exchange pleasantries, but again, he’s not going to stick around. it’s very similar to yeo; passing greetings and the bare minimum to seem respectful. if they want to talk a little more, he might stick around for a couple extra minutes, but he’s not feeling great about rehashing whatever happened between him and them.

✵ he’s a little on edge for the rest of the night, only relaxing when you’re stepping out into the parking lot

✵ he’s quiet for the ride home, and if you ask him what’s wrong, i’m not entirely sure he can answer you

✵ he’s the biggest cuddlebug when you get home, wrapping his arms around you and only letting you go long enough to change into whatever’s comfy

✵ it’s a little more than usual, but again, he can’t quite put words to what’s wrong, so he just shakes his head and cuddles into you more

✵ “i had fun tonight, but i like it better at home. you’re cozy.” (in his pouty lil voice)

song mingi ✵ wc : 369

✵ most likely to actually still be friends with his ex, methinks

✵ i don’t think he would’ve had a messy break-up in the slightest, so his ex is probably on the nicer side, and he’s probably pretty open to seeing them

✵ he’s one of the ones that will run you through the important bits of their history before y’all go

✵ he probably spends the most time talking to his ex out of anybody, if they’re still friends

✵ if they’re not, though, he’s a little wary of them

✵ avoidant p. 3, the least of them all

✵ he’s not doing anything to actively avoid them, he would simply like to, both out of respect for you and to keep his own anxiety at bay

✵ he’s respectful at least, friendly at best when they first approach y’all, though, stumbling through introducing you a little bit

✵ if they’re petty, he’s caught so off-guard. like yeo, mingi doesn’t strike me as someone who would’ve dated someone petty in the first place, so this is either a newly revealed side or a personality shift, and he doesn’t know how to handle it, exactly. i think he freezes up for a second before flashing you an apologetic look and steering you away without another word

✵ in this case, the second he gets you alone, he’s apologizing profusely, cupping your face in his hands and making sure you’re okay

✵ if they’re kind and didn’t keep in contact, his response is pretty similar to if they did. they kind of pick up where they left off, minus the touching and kissing. you get to see his grin and hear his laugh and learn some very interesting stories to use as blackmail later on

✵ either way, it ends up being a night full of laughter and good memories, both old and new

✵ you’re both pretty wiped out by the time you get home, having likely stayed the whole night, and he’s at bare minimum holding your hand the entire way

✵ another cuddlebug, scoops you into his arms the minute you’re inside, giving you a bone-crushing hug, voice muffled in your neck/shoulder/hair

✵ “i had so much fun tonight. thank you for coming with me, baby, it means so much.”

jung wooyoung ✵ wc : 359

✵ duality. king.

✵ this man will not hesitate to meet the energy in the room, so good luck to you

✵ strikes me as the only one to potentially have had a messy break-up and still been friends with the ex tho. like through reconnection via mutual friends years later or smth

✵ if this is the case they will spend so long talking

✵ he definitely introduces you first with an arm around your waist tho

✵ definitely knows who’s on the guest list and will warn you, but it’s just a passing “yeah btw my ex will be there”

✵ falls in the neutral “not avoiding, but not seeking out” zone if they aren’t friends

✵ much more focused on going around to his old friends and catching up

✵ however you end up running into them, the first thing woo does is introduce you with an arm firmly around you and a big grin

✵ this man looks at you with so much adoration i–

✵ if they’re petty, his mood flips like a switch. his grin drops and he’s giving bombastic side eye over the rim of his drink, tugging you closer into his side. he’s getting at least one snarky comment off in return, and if he feels like that’s enough to put them in their place, he’s whisking you away to literally anywhere else, pointedly turning his back to them. If it’s not, you might have to drag him away by the collar before he starts biting

✵ if they’re kind, he’s more than happy to talk to them for a good chunk of the night, being sure to loop you into the conversation and hiding his blush when the ex tells embarrassing stories about him (there are Many)

✵ overall, it’s a good night out with him, and you’re both probably worn out when you get home, having stayed the longest of any of the teezers

✵ cuddlebug woo is a surprise to literally no one, and you will be promptly under the covers and like half of his body the moment you’ve done your nighttime routines

✵ “god, that was so fun. when’s yours? i wanna go with you and meet all your friends, too.”

choi jongho ✵ wc : 309

✵ easily one of the most indifferent to the fact that his ex is going to be there

✵ it’s not like there are feelings on his end bc once he’s set on something he’s all in and currently he’s all in with you, so

✵ he definitely either knows or assumes and for sure lets you know beforehand

✵ also checks in to make sure you’re okay with that and lets you know that if you aren’t, he’s more than happy to stay home and have a night in with you

✵ doesn’t bother filling you in on the nitty-gritty, just gives you their name and maybe shows you a picture so you’re prepared

✵ he’s another neutral one, not avoidant or actively seeking his ex out

✵ the inevitable run-in is meant to just be a hello in passing; you guys were either on your way out or heading to talk to someone else

✵ but he puts an arm around your waist/shoulders/hips and introduces you with a polite smile

✵ he’s not really interested in talking with them in the first place

✵ if they’re petty, he’s another one to cut them off mid-sentence and call them out for what they said, whisking you away immediately. he might not leave the function completely, but if y’all don’t, he will be glaring them down the rest of the night

✵ if they’re kind, he’ll indulge them of a few minutes, especially if you’re enjoying yourself, but he will make absolutely sure to divert your attention elsewhere before you can get any embarrassing stories out of his ex

✵ if you ask him why, he flashes you a side-eye and reminds you who his hyungs are

✵ “i love you, and i’m glad you were having fun, but i don’t need to be teased more. unless you want me to uncover all your high school stories at your reunion?”

TAGLISTS (send an ask to join!) permanent [open]: @justhere4kpop @tastymintchocolate @soul-jae ateez [open]: @pyeonghongrie-main @/thatonenoona

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scribbuluswrites · 2 years

Text

The Threat

Since I’m too excited about all of this, I’m posting again! Who needs a schedule??

As always, thank you so much for joining me on this lovely little journey far from canon. We don’t need her. :)

All of your comments/interactions/reblogs just mean so much. I appreciate all of them, and they fuel my writer fingers to keep writing. :)

EZ glanced up from the cards in his hand. The club had a meeting later that day, and he had some time to kill between his shift at the yard and Templo. He was relieved to no longer be a prospect, but it was a rough time to finally become a patched member. Part of him wished he didn’t have to be directly involved in all of this shit.

Coco’s car was coming down the gravel drive, leaving a spray of dust and dirt behind it. He had barely parked up when Gilly moved across the lot faster than any of them had seen him move in a long while. EZ shook his head, keeping his focus on the cards in his hand. This wasn’t a scene he really wanted to watch.

Gilly hauled Coco out of the driver’s seat, pushing him back against the car. Coco grunted at the force and scrambled to keep his feet under him, losing traction on the gravel..

“Shit, Gilly, can’t you give me a minute?” he complained, his voice ragged with emotion. It wasn’t the reaction the big biker had expected so he backed off a pace, giving Coco room to catch his breath. He’d been prepared for Coco’s usual defensive stare, but the hopelessness in his eyes stopped the other Mayan in his tracks.

Coco glanced over Gilly’s shoulder, glad to see that Bishop and the others had gone inside the club house. Gilly followed his look, stepping closer to get back in Coco’s face. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to let Coco’s erratic behaviour go on any longer.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” Coco asked, his fingers tugging at the hem of his shirtsleeve. He was clearly uncomfortable. “I know I been fucking up,” he admitted, hanging his head.

“We aren’t covering for you any more, Coco. This is it. Figure your shit out,” Gilly told him, his voice cold. Coco was sure that all of his brothers’ shared the sentiment.

“Yeah, I know.” A bit of Coco’s earlier vulnerability was dissipating, quickly replaced by defensiveness at being called out like this. It was deserved, but it didn’t mean he enjoyed it.

Gilly levelled him with a look. It was severe enough that Coco was a little shocked it didn’t come with a fist, too. The intended meaning wasn’t lost on him, and Coco relented, pushing the sleeve of his shirt up.

“Fuck, I don’t want to be involved in any of that,” Gilly grumbled, turning away from Coco. Everyone knew exactly what had been going on, but they were trying to be understanding, give Coco space so they could all pretend it would get better.

“Me neither,” Coco explained. “This shit hurts so bad, I can’t take it without drugs, man,” he continued, gesturing to his scarred eye. “But this, this is gonna cost me everything.”

“Bishop’s pissed, and I ain’t covering for you again,” Gilly reiterated, his attention diverted to a pair of bikes headed their way. “We got Templo later but keep as much distance as you can until you get it fixed.”

Coco heard the bikes now, and he turned slightly to look at them. They didn’t belong to Mayans. Gilly disappeared into the clubhouse, coming back out with Bishop and the rest of the club in tow.

The bikes stopped just in front of the clubhouse, the riders stepping off and marching up to the door without an invite. It wouldn’t normally be acceptable, but Coco noticed the Reaper on the back of their kuttes.

“Ah shit,” Coco swore under his breath, recognizing the taller of the two. He walked over to join his club brothers, wondering what the hell was going on. This was the last confrontation he was prepared to have right now.

He stepped up next to EZ, folding his arms over his chest. Coco didn’t fail to notice the way Happy looked him up and down, clearly taking in the bruises on his face and the track marks on his arm. He quickly readjusted his sleeve, trying to hold Happy’s stare.

Coco wasn’t easily intimidated, but he felt certain that the specific cold, hard look on Happy’s face was probably the last thing a lot of people saw. It nearly made a chill run down his spine.

“Happy, Allesandro,” Bishop greeted, stepping in front of his club members. Everyone could feel the tension hanging in the air.

“Just a courtesy visit,” Happy began, his posture relaxed despite the hand resting on the hilt of his knife. “Packer’s sick. He asked me to take over San Bernardino while he’s away.”

Bishop frowned. “So you’re letting us know about a change in leadership?”

“We also wanted to remind you not to ride through SoA land without a call,” Allesandro added, keeping his shoulders square as Angel took a large step towards him.

“So you roll up without notice to remind us about respect?” he spat, tilting his head to look down at the Son. “How’s that work?”

“We just don’t want you finding out the hard way. Actions have consequences,” Allesandro continued, not backing down as Angel stepped off the stair and almost into him.

EZ grabbed the back of his brother’s kutte, pulling him back onto the porch with the others. Bishop gave him a look that would clearly turn into an ass kicking later.

“What the hell does that mean?” Bishop asked, turning back to Happy and Allesandro.

“It means a couple dozen dead Mexicans.” Happy’s voice was ice cold. Coco felt his hand jump to the grip of his pistol, but Happy didn’t even flinch. “Your old lady give you that?” he asked, nodding towards the bruises on Coco’s face. “Nah, you’d have to go home for her to get a shot in,” Happy finished with a chuckle.

EZ and Angel looked at each other, shocked that the Son would say anything that might give the others any reason to wonder about Kat’s relationship to Happy. Some of the others didn’t look concerned, but Bishop had picked up on the strange tension between Happy and Coco now.

Coco leapt forward, shoving Happy hard. The Son took a step backwards but easily countered Coco’s movements. Within a minute, he had Coco’s arm up behind his back and his face pressed into the roof of his car.

Happy looked over his shoulder at the Mayans standing in front of the clubhouse. It was clear that they wanted to help their brother, but they held their ground, waiting to see if Happy would give them a reason to fight.

“Like he said, we’re here on Chibs’ behalf. Don’t cross our territory,” Happy reiterated, leaning down to whisper something to Coco before letting him go. “I’ll take extra joy in putting a bullet in your head.”

The guys stayed where they were, the anger and disrespect easily readable in their eyes. This was a direct move to put them in their place, and it might not be a slight they would suffer.

After their meeting, EZ tried to catch Coco alone. The other Mayan was cagey and definitely on edge, but EZ managed to get a few moments with him as he was clearly trying to escape the clubhouse.

“Coco, got a minute?” EZ asked, stopping Coco as he unlocked his car. Coco’s shoulders slumped, and he turned to face the former prospect.

“I ain’t in the mood, boyscout,” he started, already preparing for a lecture.

“No sermon from me,” EZ assured, holding his hands up. “I just wanted to see how Kat’s doing with everything.” Coco’s brow furrowed.

“Doing with what?” he snapped, looking annoyed. “With my fuck ups?”

EZ shook his head, confused. “No, with San Bernardino's new leader.” EZ sighed, realising what Happy’s comments had meant. “You didn’t tell her.” The newest member let out a sigh that turned into a chuckle. “Oh man, she’s gonna be so pissed.”

“Whatever,” Coco grumbled, turning back to his car. He pulled the door open, not bothered that it bumped into EZ.

The younger Mayan took a step back, wondering if Coco was actually headed home to face his old lady’s wrath. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but he really doubted Coco was.

Tags: @gemini0410 @scuzmunkie @woahitslucyylu @chibsytelford @withmyteeth @heyitsperfect

#coco cruz #ez reyes #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz imagine #mayans #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc #bishop losa #angel reyes #gilly lopez #happy lowman #happy lowman imagine #ALL THE HAPPY #faking it #wishing it #finding it

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halfmoondaze · 2 years

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Stuck In Fantasy Mode

The first thing I remember from him was his iridescent blue eyes and his inviting bright smile as he introduced himself in the middle of my interview at the Met Gala ceremony; having no care in the world that this could create buzz around the both of us in terms of relationship rumors. He took a look at me from head to toe and made no effort to conceal the smile on his face. I was mystified by him, to say the least, and during our short interaction, I find myself being unaware of the world around us as if it was only the two of us in the room. Only coming back to earth when he left.

During the ceremony, I was hoping not to run into him, as I pretended to be unaware of his presence or the chance of running into him again. I don't think I would be able to bear it, for I would probably melt like butter next to him making a fool of myself. Better to stay away from him.

It's not like it was the first time I met him. For the past few months, he has been attempting but somehow failing to shoot his shot. He would make appearances on my Instagram live and by the time I would notice his presence I was quick to make up an excuse and end the live. But after several similar interactions, fans were quick to suspect something was going on behind the scenes.

Sometime along the way, his public interactions with me came to a halt, probably sensing I was too shy to reciprocate something or that I was just not interested.

Cipriani South Street was the place to be, at the Met Gala after-party hosted by Alicia Keys. An event filled with performances and A-lister celebrities having the time of their lives letting loose as they mingle with everyone.

As I was catching up with Yara Shahidi, Timothee Chalamet, and Ella Emhoff; Jack and Lil Nas X approached us and inserted themselves into our little group just listening. Nas ended up taking over the conversation and I just opted for listening and interacting.

I could sense that he would stare at me every once in a while. And there was no denying that he was dying to speak to me or maybe that was my newfound confidence acting out.

The interaction took a different route as everyone else scattered around leaving me and Jack alone.

“Hi Y/N”

“Jack, hi”

“It’s good to see you, we haven’t properly met”

“Is that so? Because I can recall you interacting on all my Instagram live"

“So you did noticed me. Well I’m surprised you haven’t run away from me yet. If I didn't know any better I would've assumed you've been trying to avoid me” he said with a cocky smile.

You diverted your gaze from him as you felt caught and started laughing trying to conceal your embarrassment.

"Hey, there's no reason to shy away from me. You look beautiful" he smiled.

“Thanks”

"I have to say it. It's great to finally meet you, I was looking forward to it"

"Are you always this upfront?"

"Does it bother you?"

"On the contrary"

"What are you doing later?"

"Not much, go back to my hotel room, why?"

"I was wondering if we could spend some time together getting to know each other"

You were caught by surprise, as you never expected for Jack to actually be interested in you. And before you could stop yourself, you started giggling like a fool.

"Are you always this shy, or is just around me?"

"Jack, I think you're handsome and charming; and Im very flattered but I'm not looking for a one-night-stand, I just want to make that clear"

"Me neither. Ive would be lying if I said I haven't been crushing on you for the longest time"

Was this some sort of fantasy I was leaving in right now?

"Well, its an open invitation, in case you change your mind" he smiled at you before walking away.

Should I conform myself to spending the rest of my lifetime longing for him?

"Wait"

You caught his attention as he turned around looking at you.

"That actually sounds lovely"

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sunlightheidi · 3 years

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Jihyun Kim "V" x Reader/MC

AU Fantasy, written for the Mystic Dance Event, hosted by the lovely @little-butterfly-writes. Roles provided, "Princess x Court Painter".

"I'll meet you in the forest, let's let this wild thing grow."

- Forest, Fancy Hagood

Jihyun was chosen from a neighboring kingdom to paint the royal family.

It was an honor, to be selected as the court artist; for his art to hang on the palace walls alongside portraits of previous kings and queens.

There are countless tales told throughout the kingdoms; stories of the ruthless king who commanded the armies, of the regal queen who could turn men into stone with a simple look.

And of the stoic crowned princess, who possessed the ethereal beauty of the fae, and the same coldness too.

He’s painted that captivating beauty on canvas more than once; has traced the dip of your collarbone, the fullness of your lips, the almond shape of your eyes with his paintbrush so many times he can do it from memory alone.

You are always seated on that golden throne when he does, decorated in sapphires and dressed in layers of silk and lace – always watching him with a sort of fascination as he paints, a sparkling wonder in your gaze.

You sit on that throne now, your head held high, waves of black hair falling down your back, and a crown of rowan berries on your brow. Your dress is golden, accentuating the sun-touched colors of your skin and the darkness of your eyes as they roam over the ballroom to the people dancing and celebrating the return of autumn.

There is a sort of hypnotic magic about you and he sees it perfectly then, how you truly could have been fairy in a past life; sparkling wings on your back, adorned in colors of orange and red and yellow as you sat on a throne of marigolds and ruled over the autumn court.

Perhaps you may have even allowed yourself to dance amongst your folk, lost in the addicting taste of pomegranates as you moved freely to the wild music.

But that is not who you are now. Not who are you expected to be.

You do not partake in the autumn celebration with your people, you are not allowed to laugh and dance in the way he knows you desire to. In the way you have so freely danced and laughed by his side in hidden corridors.

Your only purpose is to serve your kingdom, and outside of your clandestine meetings with him, you play your role flawlessly. No one would dare suggest otherwise.

If only they knew the restlessness that lingers in your heart. The same kind and wild heart you have given to him– a secret belonging to you both alone.

The music ends and you clap gently in your lap, almost unconsciously, as most of your mannerisms are – but your eyes are dazed, he knows your thoughts are elsewhere.

He has been hounded by daydreams of you as well, wishes he could stand in front of that throne and take your hand as an equal; to lead you to the ballroom floor and hold you in his arms as you sway together, just as you have done many times before in the dark.

The orchestra begins to play a new piece, something slow and soft that echoes through the ballroom; the chandeliers shimmer from the high ceiling as partners retake their place and begin a new dance.

Carefully, as to not draw attention to yourself, you stand, hands gripping the skirts of your dress as you curtsey to the king and queen, who briefly nod in your direction in permission to take your leave. He follows you with his eyes as you walk down the steps of the podium and to the large entryway, but something catches his attention – a golden satin ribbon, left behind on the seat of your throne.

You have played this game before, he knows what the token means; and when he looks up, in a single moment that freezes time, you look over your shoulder and meet his gaze. He nods in understanding, and there’s a sparkle in your eye as you close the doors behind you.

He wants to run after you, to spin you around in his arms and declare his fidelity to you in front of the world. But you are a princess…and he is only the court painter – the consequences should anyone discover you two together, of the things you have done under secrecy, would end in tragedy.

So he waits, and when the kingsmen turn to assist their majesties to the ballroom floor, Jihyun slips through the entryway and weaves down dark corridors and forgotten doors.

He is lost in a haze to get to you, has waited eagerly for weeks to spend time with you, and not the person you pretend to be for everyone else. He wants your silly laughter and teasing smiles, your fondness for flowers and furry forest creatures.

In an unlit corner of an unused passageway, there is a door that blends into the stone of the walls, it is not easily seen in the dark, but Jihyun knows exactly where it is and how to twist the lock to the room that has become his haven.

He steps through the low archway and closes the door behind him, feels a sort of relief when he turns to find you watching him.

It is indescribable, how painfully beautiful you are illuminated by the candlelight – woven in golden and waiting for him.

He bows, deeply. “Princess.”

And then, the respectable haze you have found yourselves in for weeks vanishes.

In an instant, you wrench yourself forward into him, tackling him into something fierce. He grasps you, cradling you safely in his arms as you wiggle in your happiness.

“Jihyun,” you whisper against his chest, nose buried in the hilt of his tailcoat. “I was afraid you would not come.”

He pushes you back, enough to look into your eyes and trace the outline of your cheekbone with his thumb. “Of course I came. I cannot deny you a single thing, nor do I wish to.”

“I did not think I would have the time to slip by their attention tonight, I am eternally grateful their minds are elsewhere.”

“Do you need to get back?” he asks, wrapping his arms around your waist; already dreading having to part.

“Not yet, not so soon.” You reach for him, stand on the tip of your toes and brush your lips against his in the softest of kisses. “I have missed you terribly.”

“As have I, darling,” he whispers against your mouth. “I have to stop myself constantly from reaching for you in the hallways.”

An impish smile graces your lips, sly and conniving. He imagines this must be how the fae tempt humans into their world.

“You are certainly free to touch me now, in whatever way you desire.”

He catches up quickly, as he tightens the hold on your waist and brings his lips to yours – warm breath and honey taste – soft and slow, memorizing every part of this moment.

He rubs small circles on your back just above your waist, feeling the silky material of your dress as you put your arms around his neck, bringing him in as close as you possibly can. And when you pull back to catch your breath, you smile at him slyly, all hooded eyes and flushed cheeks, bottom lip between your teeth.

“Pray tell, you wicked thing. What enchantment have you placed on me?”

A soft laugh, no more than an exhale, ghosts across the side of his neck, raising goosebumps across his skin. You stand so close he can smell the sweetness of the roses pressed onto your skin, the floral scent instantly hauling him back to an afternoon in the court gardens, where you hid behind large rose bushes and he pressed you against the grass and kissed you until sundown.

“It was the pomegranate seeds I fed to you in the garden” you whisper, playfully. “It was faerie food, meant to entrap you to my side for the rest of your days.”

“You could have simply asked me,” he replies. “My answer would have been yes.”

Your eyes go soft, but sparkle suddenly in the way they do when you decide to be cheeky. “But that would be a waste of a perfectly ripe pomegranate, do you not agree?”

He bites at the pout of your lip in reprimand, feeling satisfied with the redness there when he pulls back. “Do you truly have a response for everything?”

“I thought you liked my mouth,” you say, just a fraction shy and very much teasing as your hands wonder down his chest.

“I do, it’s perfectly sweet.” His hand firmly cradles your chin and he leans in until your breath is upon his lips. “Do not divert, my dove. Will you share with me what has been on your mind tonight? You have been on a cloud all evening.”

Your eyes open in surprise, but smile softly at him as he holds your face between his hands. His thumb traces your berry lips and your eyes flutter shut in resignation.

“I have tried, for a very long time, to find dignity in my role.” He notes the softness of your voice, mixed in with the bitter resentment he’s only caught glimpses of before. When your eyes flutter open, there is sadness. “I have found nothing, and I am tired of it all. I do not know who I am beyond what I’m told to be, and I do not care for it any longer. I wish to please only you.”

Your eyes are suddenly and incredibly soft as they hold onto his, your fingertips tracing his hipbones, moving up his abdomen. He brushes a gentle stroke of his lip against yours, flashing loving eyes as if to say what neither of you has found the courage to admit yet.

“You have shone light upon my dreams, Jihyun. But there is no room for you in my life, and you deserve to be with someone that will not be a threat to your own.”

He is hardly ever angry; he finds he does not care much for such emotions. But in this moment, he feels an inexplicable sadness and fear that you will disappear before he has the chance to tell you how truly his life belongs to you.

“Should you wish to end things with me, I will retreat immediately without a word and pretend nothing has happened. But do not make decisions for me. I wish to be with you, in whatever manner possible. If these meetings are all that I will ever have, then I will have this over nothing.”

Light laughter erupts from your throat and you quickly slip one hand from his chest to muffle the unexpected sound. Tears spring from your eyes at last, a blend of humor and grief.

“I wish I could kiss you and make you king.”

He gently takes hold of your soft hands, engulfing them in his calloused ones. He notices the pleasant shiver that runs up your spine at the intimate gesture.

“I do not want to be king, I just want to be with you,” he admits.

You are quiet for a long time, contemplative. He brushes tendrils of your hair off your shoulder, feels your collarbones beneath his fingertips.

“We are in love, aren’t we?” You whisper, and there’s a sort of hesitancy there, as if you have only just realized what this could mean for both of you – the inevitable heartbreak that is destined.

From the very moment your worlds collided – he knew he would fall in love with you. And as he has come to know you – eyes alive like wildflowers and smiles that carry sunshine – he dreams of nothing more than to meet his fate by your side.

“I love you, with everything that I possess.”

“Then run away with me,” you plead, putting yourself nose to nose with him, his blue wisps of hair against your forehead. “Let’s go to another land. Somewhere far away where we can be close to an ocean and have a garden of roses.”

“Your father will send kingsmen after us,” he warns quietly, stoic beneath your hands, hesitant to reciprocate. “He will not be merciful.”

You shake your head fiercely, speak one last offer of clarity. “My father cares not for what may happen to me, he never has. He has two more children he can crown.”

“If you are sure about this, I believe King Han may grant us sanctuary should we reach his borders. I have known him since we were children, and Jumin can be ruthless, but he is fair. Though I must warn you, once we reach his castle, your title will be stripped.”

“I do not want to be a princess, I just want you,” you whisper and lean into him, press a breeze of a kiss to the corner of his mouth, another against his jawline. “Promise you will meet me at midnight, out in the forest.”

The sweetness of you has long burned away his fear, and in its place a mellow kind of anticipation has taken hold. He takes your hand in his and brings it up to his lips.

“As you wish,” he mumbles against your palm and you giggle joyfully before you throw your arms around his neck.

And for everything he believes in, your face is as precious as all the jewels and gemstones of any kingdom; it is the smile you grace him with upon his yes, shining with the power of a thousand suns, that confirm he has found the world’s greatest fortune.

#I was so hesitant to post this #but fuck it #here it is #enjoy #jihyun kim #jihyun kim x reader #mystic messenger #v mysme #v route #v mysme fanfic #v mysme x reader #v mystic messenger #Jihyun Kim fanfic #Jihyun Kim mysme #Jihyun Kim mystic messenger #period/fantasy au #the mystic dance #mint palace ball

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Title: A Hoarding Problem.

Pairing: Pro-Hero!Yandere!Touya/Reader (Boku No Hero Academia).

Word Count: 2.5k

Synopsis: Todoroki Touya has a problem, and he’s not sure he wants to fix it.

TW: Hero AU, Minor Spoilers, Kidnapping, Mutual Extortion, Emotional Manipulation, Slight Gaslighting, Bondage, Implied Infantilization, Mention of Sedatives (No Actual Use), and Themes of Poverty.

Todoroki Touya had a problem.

He had a lot of problems, technically. His secretary always managed to schedule the most important meetings at the least convenient times, his coffee never seemed hot enough but always burnt his tongue, and despite his fame and wealth and strange, cult-like popularity, the only thing journalists ever seemed to want to talk about was his father, why Touya didn’t inherit the ‘Endeavour’ title, how long it’d take him to live up to all those stacking, swelling expectations. He had a lot of problems, dozens, hundreds. He had a lot. Everyone did, but Touya didn’t have to deal with everyone else’s.

He just had to deal with you.

You were one of those concentrated types, your smile always a little too personal and your stare always a little too intense, like you were trying to see how much his organs would go for on the black-market before you bothered to cut him open. You were put together, too, and if he hadn’t taken the liberty of following you home so many times, he never would’ve guessed you were staying at some cheap, back-alley motel, the kind meant for people who just wanted to be anywhere but the place they used to be. A run-away, he’d guessed, at first, but you were too old for that, and you were too good at pretending you weren’t living out of the suitcase Touya was starting to get tired of rummaging through. Maybe you were a petty criminal, a villain too minor to be on his radar - he didn’t know, and he really wasn’t interested in finding out. All that mattered to him was that he’d met you, decided he liked you, and hadn’t been able to think about much else since. It was an issue, really, and it was starting to get in the way of his work. It was starting to get in the way of everything.

But, he’d had this kind of problem before. He knew what to do. He knew how to handle it.

You seemed to want to be handled, too.

You were laughing, again, but he wasn’t really sure why. It might’ve been something he said, your own little joke, but he didn’t mind the sound, all bells and wind chimes and a practiced ease that threatened to divert his focus, as he tried to keep his eyes on the road. You were slumped in the passenger seat, and if he checked, he was sure you’d be looking out the window, counting turns, memorizing street names, doing what little you could to track the convoluted, darkened route he’d been sure to plan out days ago. You’d come willingly, but you wanted to make sure you’d be able to find your way back without his help. For his own sake, Touya pretended you were just being cautious.

“I didn’t expect a Hero to live so far from the city.” Your voice was just as light, just a notch more confident than it had been at the convenience store you both frequented, the one you’d been working at when he stumbled in, closer to sunrise than sunset and ready to fall in love with the first person who smiled at him. The job hadn’t lasted, but Touya couldn’t think of a reason to mourn the loss. You wouldn’t have been desperate enough to take him up on his offer, if you still had a steady income. “Didn’t mark you down as one of those ‘cabin in the woods’ types, either. I’m not going to find, like, a box of dismembered body parts or anything, right?”

“Obviously,” He scoffed, his tone just playful enough to be disarming. “I try to keep my victims in one piece. Hackjobs aren’t as satisfying as you’d think.”

That earned a jab to his side, an offended ‘my hackjob would be’, but you lost interest in the exchange as soon as he reached the driveway, coming to a stop in front of that sprawling, climbing villa, three stories of concrete and glass, a stark contrast from the forest that surrounded it. You took a moment to take it in, scanning over the building, a predator evaluating its docile prey. When you turned towards Touya, your smile was just a little wider, your expression just a little brighter. “I really can’t thank you enough,” You went on, your tone so sentimental, Touya could almost ignore the hollowness behind it. “You sure you’re alright with this? My last place fell through, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find somewhere else to--”

“Don’t worry about that. All this is curtesy of the Hero Commission, and they don’t keep track of who comes ang goes.” Touya didn’t wait for you to finish, he didn’t have to, even if he did let himself enjoy your faux-gratitude as he undid his seatbelt. “Besides, it’s my job, right? I wouldn't want to find out you went and got yourself hurt because I couldn’t be bothered to clean out my guest room.” There was a slight pause, a short hesitation. You flinched when he raised his hand, but you didn’t pull away as he cupped your cheek, only learning into his warm palm. “Besides, I can’t say I’d mind a little company, all alone out here.”

In his defense, he wasn’t going to kiss you. Really, he wasn’t that mean, but he didn’t have a chance to refuse, not before your lips were on his, your hands in his hair, all sudden passion and over-eager excitement. He was stunned, at first, but Touya recovered quickly. Biting back a smirk, he leaned into the gesture, slinging an arm around your hip, tilting your head back and doing whatever he could to bring you close, to keep you close, just like he’d been dying to for months, now. He could feel you stifle a laugh, moving to pull away, but Touya only drifted to your neck, nipping at the edge of your jaw before he found your jugular, aiming for the sensitive area just above it. You only chuckled, blunt nails running over his scalp. “And I thought I was the needy one,” You chided, half-hearted pushing at his chest. “It’s cold out here, Todoroki. At least take me inside first.”

Right. Of course. He got carried away.

He almost forgot why you were actually here.

He didn’t let you go. He didn’t want to, so he didn’t bother trying, pulling you over the center console in one swift motion, leaving you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder and an arm under your thighs, supporting your weight as he jerkily kicked open the door, letting you duck your head and giggle, always giggling, always trying to pretend to be meek and harmless and innocent. He wondered if you’d stop, eventually, if you’d drop the act once he decided both of you should show your true colors. He’d be lying if he said he hated the idea of choking it out of you.

The front door wasn’t locked. He didn’t bother, not with his profession, not when he knew he’d be coming home with you, tonight. If you noticed, you didn’t seem to mind, focusing on locking your ankles behind his back, on swallowing down that small, pained groan as he slammed your back into the nearest wall of his darkened villa just a little too hard, pretending not to notice as your smile wavered in the minimal light. “I don’t think this counts as protecting the--”

You were cut off by a loud thud, metallic and hollow, like someone hitting drywall with a baseball bat. You paused, for a second, your gaze flickering to the space behind him, but he was quick to kiss your cheek, to bring your attention back to where it should be, on him. “‘s just my roommate,” He mumbled, hoping you’d be too used to the excuse to linger on it. “Don’t pay it too much mind. He’s probably just fucking around.”

This time, your smile dropped completely. “The Hero Commission... lets you have a roommate?”

He caught his mistake a second too late. He opened his mouth, ready to explain, but another noise interrupted him, a rattling this time, followed by another deafening, irritating thud. He grit his teeth, but you only stiffened, your next shove to his chest a little more insistent than the last. “He might be hurt,” You started, the concern in your voice more genuine than it’d been all night. “We should check on him, that sounds--”

“It’ll be fine.” He spoke a little too quickly, a little too aggressively. Instantly, your eyes widened, your entire body going tense against his, and Touya had to fight not to lose his composure completely. It was too soon. It was too early. He wanted to be sweet. He didn’t want to be mean, not with you. “Just ignore it, sweetheart, it’s not important. You’re here for me, right? The brat shouldn’t--”

It was a slip-up. A petname so common, he hardly noticed he’d said it until you were scrambling, writhing, digging your nails into his biceps deep enough to break the skin, forcing him to let you go out reflex alone. You barely managed to catch yourself, but you stayed on your feet, shoving past Touya while he was still hissing out curses, clutching at bleeding wounds and broken scars. There was another thud, and you moved to sprint in the direction it’d come from, but he was a Hero, he was trained for this. You were on the ground before you could take a step, Touya straddling your stomach, his hands around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, though, he didn’t want to strangle you. He was going to be patient. This was going to be different. “Just behave,” He growled, fighting to hold onto the last threads of his restraint. “It’s not important. I’m important, and that’s all you have to care about. That’s all you’re ever going to care about, from now on.”

You didn’t hesitate. As soon as he finished, you were jerking forward, your forehead colliding with his and forcing a ragged scream from both of you. He’d give you credit for that. Villains and Heroes fought with quirks, specialized weapons, tactics and strategies and purpose. This was blunt. This was thoughtless. It was impulsive, and it was stupid, and it worked, letting you push him away as he recoiled, suddenly too focused on his pounding skull to care about what you might find. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. None of your little tantrums would.

He’d find you, eventually. After that, the results would be the same.

That might’ve been why Touya took his time, pushing himself to his feet slowly, following the sound of your footsteps before they abruptly stopped. He tried not to be bothered by it, even if there was a familiar pang of anxiety when he saw you, your mouth agape and your body slack, leaning against a door that should not be open. He might’ve walked a little faster, out of habit, but if you noticed him, you were too distracted to care. He couldn’t blame you. Not when he knew what you were looking at.

He got a little carried away, with the girls’ room. Pale pink paint coated on every surface, fairy-lights strung along the ceiling, and a white, circular rug, fluffy and stainless and just small enough to stop before it reached the three cots, settled along each of the walls, each with its own frilly sheets and plush mattress and bare, metallic frame, something Touya might’ve considered swapping out if their opponents were a little more grateful. Two were empty, the first a spare if he needed room for a future ‘guest’ and the second a reminder to check on the bitch in his basement, and the third was on its side. That was what you were focusing on, what he couldn’t seem to pull you away from as he slotted himself against your back, wrapping an arm loosely around your waist.

That, and the girl sitting in front of it, a ball-gag stuffed in her mouth and a collar around her neck, thick and leathery and attached to a chain, keeping her tethered to the nearest wall. There were a few noticeable dents in the plaster around her bracket, but Touya had better things to worry about.

There was a garbled scream, something that might’ve been a warning, but Touya silenced her off with a glare sharp enough cut glass. “Shut it,” He barked, all pretense of patience gone. “Shut up, or you’re going to spend the next week in a muzzle. I’ll deal with you later.”

“You kidnapped her.” At least you waited your turn, even if the delay did little too soften the disgust in your voice. “You’re a monster. You’re supposed to be--”

“A hero?” You tried to shove him away, to pry him off of you, but he only tightened his grip. “And you’re supposed to be an innocent civilian, aren’t you? Something soft and appreciative I can feel good about helping, fuck, and forget about the next day, right?”

“Don’t try to--”

“Where do you keep the bottle, sweetheart?” Now, it was your turn to go tense, to know he saw something he shouldn’t have seen. “Don’t lie to me. It won’t be pretty, if we start off this relationship on a bad foot.”

You hesitated, for a moment. He saw your swallow, watched your eyes dart towards anything that could’ve been considered a weapon, but his fingers slipped under your shirt and you bowed your head, giving in at the slightest threat of something worse. He liked that about you. Such a simple thing, too afraid of pain to take the risk. “My jacket. There are pockets on the inside - it’s on the right.”

He’d give you credit. It looked realistic, if nothing else, a translucent orange bottle with a white lid, the label scratched off in a way that could’ve been mistaken for nervous fidgeting, if Touya didn’t know better. With one hand, he popped off the lid, barely glancing at the unmarked pills inside before letting out a pleased hum.

Sedatives. Not lethal, but effective. The type you could get from any low-ranking Villain with a surplus supply and a greater need for clients than most.

The type that could be slipped into wine glasses, mixed into water. The type that’d keep your trusting, unsuspecting host nice and unconscious while you helped yourself to anything that wasn’t nailed down. While you robbed him blind, stowed yourself away in another cheap motel room two towns over, and scouted for the next poor guy who’d be too embarrassed to say anything.

Touya couldn’t help himself. He laughed, loudly and shamelessly, watching as you withered, glaring at the tiled floor. He couldn’t tell if it was fear of loathing, half-suspended terror or that deep, ingrained hatred any good predator should feel when it’s caught in a trap, but your voice couldn’t have made it more clear. “What’s your plan?” You spat, all humiliation, all spirited, adorable anger. His grin widened, the lasting tension in his shoulders dissolving, but if you noticed how much he enjoyed your little show, you didn’t bother trying to keep your mouth shut. “Arrest me? Hand me over to the police and let me tell them all about your creepy, fucked-up dollhouse?” You never looked up. You never so much as tried to meet his eyes, let alone glance at the ‘victim’ you’d been so intent on saving a few minutes ago. “Let me go. You don’t have another choice, unless you’re willing to get your hands dirty.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’m not gonna kill you.” It wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t seem to believe him, going rigid as his lips brushed against the nape of your neck. It was a fleeting gesture, but he didn’t let himself linger. He’d have plenty of time for that once he got you used to your new role, under his care. Once you got used to him. “I’m not gonna hand you over, either. That’d just be a waste.”

He might’ve been a little mean, after all. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have given you so much time to answer, so much time to tremble. At least you didn’t try to get away, this time. You were already learning. “I… I don’t--”

“I’m going to take care of you, angel. Just like I’m taking care of her.”

There was a moment of stillness, a small, ragged sob, but Touya couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. He couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but satisfied.

Because Todoroki Touya had a problem. Because he was awful and hungry and greedy, and he had a problem.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to fix it.

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writingdumpsite · 3 years

Text

That’s because she’s shy (g.w.)

Summary: George Weasley doesn’t think you fancy him and decides to prove his point. What he doesn’t see coming is your reaction.

pairing: George Weasley x fem!Reader

words: 3k

A/N: just something I wrote these last days inspired by some lines from one of my favourite films. yes, a couple of days ago I rewatched Pride and Prejudice for the millionth time and the scene where Darcy proposes to Lizzie hit as hard as usual.

“Oh c’mon George! Can you please stop looking at her and listen to what I’m trying to tell you?” Fred groaned once he’s seen his twin brother staring at her, yet again. But George couldn’t help but stare at the entrance of the Great Hall. To be completely honest, he thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever met. She was talking to Hermione, too focused on her to sense his piercing eyes on her figure. Her soft features seemed even softer thanks to the light that invaded the Great Hall. Her eyes were shining while discussing animatedly with Hermione. George supposed it was something rather interesting. At some point – he couldn’t tell when, though – she has even started gesticulating.

A loud smack on the back of his head brought George back to reality. When he turned his head towards a smirking Fred he felt his cheeks reddening. Fred was not the only one smirking but Harry, Ron and Lee were there, too. The knowing looks were enough for George to be sure he wasn’t getting away with some lame excuse. But he stayed silent, not exactly knowing what to say to his friends. And now that he thought it through, what was he supposed to say? That he fancied Y/N? That seemed pretty obvious. Harry and Ron chuckled but decided not to torment him any further. Instead, they excused themselves and went to their next class.

The silence made him feel uncomfortable but he didn't want to speak first. George sighed in relief when Lee finally decided to open his mouth. “Don’t you think it’s time to say something to that poor soul?” The boy shook his head “I don’t think she fancies me. I mean, we’ve known each other for years. All I've been doing for months now is flirt with her any chance I get.”

“Are you sure you’re flirting? Eye contact and light touches here and there aren’t enough sometimes” Lee nodded at Fred’s words. And deep down George knew his twin was right, that he should tell you instead of subtly flirting once or twice a week. It’s not that difficult. Once you find her alone, you take her somewhere more private and shoot your shot. The plan in his head, though simple, seemed rather effective.

But she was so out of his league, even for the most famous prankster of the entire school. So smart, genuine and kind that nobody was worth her undivided attention. Her grades were stellar and the hobbies she had were unparalleled and far from George’s. She was an artist. In her free time, she was always doing something creative, like reading, playing an instrument or knitting. He knew that because he has been bothering Hermione to get to know pretty much anything he could on her .

He didn't notice the girl turning her head towards the boys at the Gryffindor table. Y/N is quick to catch George's eyes and shoot him a gracious smile. Oh c’mon you idiot, do something. She’s flirting, she’s definitely flirting is all is repeating to himself. But before he could wave at her, she starts to approach the boys at the table, Hermione right behind her.

“Hello boys” she greeted them with the same smile she shot George a minute ago. With that, the idea of her flirting with him faded together with his hope of being his type. Again.

He didn’t pay attention to the greetings she received and avoided the conversation she started with Fred and Lee. Until she said the word “cracker”. His eyes shot up to the girl in time to catch the remaining of the discourse. “My cousin sent me some crackers after I told him about the situation with the Umbridge. They’re nothing like yours, of course, but I reckon the pink toad knows nothing about how these muggle ones work.” The conversation went on for a couple of minutes. She told them how to use them and George found himself mesmerized by the girl’s knowledge on the topic. “I’m not a fan of crackers and I'm not going to use them so if you ever needed them, let me know. I’ll be more than happy to get rid of them.”

She was out of sight when Fred cleared his throat and announced to his twin that if he didn’t ask her out soon, he would. George laughed at that but knew that he needed to end his agony. He spent all day pondering the options on the matter but they seemed so stupid the more he went through them.

It was at dinner that Ron suggested something interesting. “You could always try and make her jealous. You know, you could pretend to date some random girl and see her reaction”. At first, George thought it was a bad idea. He would have to convince someone to pretend to date him. But he also thought that, if the plan worked, Y/N would make a move on him, tell him that she's always fancied him. And they’d finally be together. But if that didn’t happen, if she didn’t show interest at all, that would hurt him even more. Yet, the more he considered the plan, the more he convinced himself that was the right thing to do. So the next day he asked his good friend Alicia to fake-date in front of Y/N next Monday at breakfast.

George needed to get a reaction from the girl. He wanted to know if what he felt for Y/N was unrequited ad he had to give up and forget her, or if she fancied him as well.

What he wasn’t aware of was that Y/N has fancied George for a while. Yet, if he looked for proof, he wouldn’t find any. She was pretty good at disguising her feelings as kind gestures, such as smiling or waving. She sometimes would try and speak to him alone, laugh at his jokes or ask questions if she was chatty that day. And that wasn’t flirting, was it? Plus, everyone knew she was always the quiet one who didn't mean to sound flirtatious. She was aware that she was shy and not good at showing affection to her loved ones. So, she never considered she was acting like a flirt. She was sure she was being rather subtle with her pining but she was wrong, of course. On that day, Hermione explained what she knew about flirting and dating. She resolved, what Y/N was doing was flirting, even if almost non-existent. After that, it didn’t take long for the bright witch to learn what Y/N felt for George Weasley. And that lead to hours of telling her to confess, to make a move, to make it crystal clear that she fancied the prankster. Otherwise, someone else would find a way to his heart.

The process lasted less than imagined. Only a couple of days of distracted expressions and head in the clouds. It also coincided with the weekend and Y/N was not planning on crying her eyes out because of a boy. So, she postponed the whole “profess-your-feelings-to-George” idea to Monday. She was sure that having time to let everything sink in would be good.

All weekend Y/N expected second thoughts or any other impediment to happen. But on Monday morning, there was nothing that could prevent her from her original plans. So, nervously, she got changed and mentally prepared herself to face George.

“So, are you going to do it?” asked Hermione as soon as Y/N met her in the Great Hall. “If it’s of any help, Ron and Harry told me George has been talking non-stop about you for weeks. I'm pretty sure he likes you.” Y/N smiled and tried to stay calm, but everything inside her was screaming. “I’m not sure I’m ready but I'm doing it anyway.” she stated. Then, she took a big breath a continued on a funnier note. “And if it goes wrong I’ll drown myself in the huge pile of homework we have to do”. Hermione laughed and then patted her shoulder to show her support. “I’ll be here in case you need me”. Y/N ’s face softened at her friend's words. After taking another big breath, she stepped into the crowded Great Hall.

Her eyes meticulously scanned all the faces in search of George but it seemed like he wasn’t there.That’s odd, he’s never late for breakfast she thought. Fred was already there, surrounded by everyone she could think of, except for the one she was looking for. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe some kind of guardian angel was trying to send the message that it was not a good day to profess her feelings.

She went back to reality when someone lightly bumped into her shoulder. Y/N ’s eyes, until that moment, fixed on the Gryffindor table, landed on the couple who passed her. They were holding hands and Y/N couldn’t help herself imagining what holding hands would be like with George. But she didn’t have the time to indulge too much in the thought because something ginger caught her eyes. The “something” turned out to be George’s hair.

All she wanted to do was to divert her gaze, forget what she was going to do that morning. But her eyes seemed glued to the scene unfolding in front of her and incapable of focusing on anything else. The couple was now standing mere feet away from her and George was leaning in, as if he wanted to kiss the girl. In the end it was a simple kiss on her forehead but the act itself was enough for her. Y/N felt her heart sinking and before she could do anything to prevent it, tears formed in her eyes. And the more she saw, the more she wanted to slap herself. How could she be so naïve and mistake some kind gestures for interest? George was being so nice to her because it was in his nature and because she hung with his little brother’s friends a lot. How could she not see it?

She was so focused on the scene in front of her. So much that she didn’t notice the tears starting to stream down her face or George’s head turning towards her. But she wasn’t going to show him any of her feelings, so she turned around and run out of the Great Hall as fast as she could. Her run came to an end when something – or rather, someone – pulled her robes and made her turn around. Hermione was now standing in front of her, a sad expression on her face, and Y/N knew that her friend knew. She still wanted to say something, anything to try and justify her run but couldn’t. Instead, she felt her cheeks turning even redder and new tears forming. She had no idea how it happened but a moment later, she felt Hermione's arm around her. And as her head fell on her shoulder, she started sobbing.

Where did it go wrong? Were they happy tears or sad tears? You idiot, obviously they were not happy tears. George couldn’t shake Y/N ’s tear-stained face out of his mind. He wasn’t expecting this reaction. He didn’t do anything completely wrong, either. He didn’t snog Alicia or proposed to her in front of Y/N , he simply kissed her forehead. That meant nothing, either for him or for Alicia. He did what he did to prove his point that Y/N didn’t fancy him. To get a reaction, to see what she felt. He was so sure she would understand that and make a move, it didn’t matter if good or bad.

“So, how did it go?” asked Ron when George took a seat next to him. Across from him, Fred and Lee stopped planning their next prank and turned their head to hear George. He was still studying Y/N ’s reaction, pondering words as not to sound more confused than he already was. “I didn't think I'd made her cry” blurted out the boy, pouring himself a goblet of juice. But before anyone could make any type of comments he added “I’m not sure if that was the reaction I was looking for, though”. “Well, now you’ll understand if she fancies you or not” stated calmly Ron “And decide whether what you’ve been doing for months was flirting or pining” added a smirking Fred.

“Excuse me?” Hermione’s voice snapped behind George. The boy went white as he realised Hermione has been there long enough to find out about the plan. One by one, the other boys decided it was best to return to their breakfasts. That left George to deal with the girl alone. He could see she was fuming so thought it best to stare at her, letting her rant about how stupid the whole idea was. “How could you do that to her? She’s a sobbing mess because you didn’t have the guts to confess your feelings. Among all the options you had, you chose to risk hurting her to not deal with your heart being broken. I wonder why she fancies you. Yes, she should have admitted her feelings for you as well, but she didn’t do something like this just to get a reaction.” The whole situation, Hermione lecturing him, made George feel like a young boy again. Always trying to defend himself when accused of something. But at that times, it never mattered whether it was his fault or not. This clearly wasn’t the case.

“I didn’t know what to do. I panicked because she’s so out of my league. And I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in case she wasn’t interested.” he tried to resonate with Hermione, wording out loud the thoughts that have been floating in his mind for weeks. But the moment he spoke, he came to the conclusion that the whole plan was stupid. “Plus, it seemed like she was completely indifferent to me and my flirting” that was his last resort. Blaming her for not noticing all along only angered Hermione more. “That’s because she’s shy. Y/N hardly shows her true feelings for me. We’ve been friends for years now and I have seen her cry only once when she got bad news from home." An uncomfortable silence fell and George could see Hermione pondering her next words. "Also, if it is of any consolation, a couple of day ago I found out she likes you.” George stayed silent, letting Hermione’s words sink in his brain. “I really fucked up” was all he admitted before getting up and running out of the Great Hall to find Y/N .

“There you are. Ron thought you might be here but I wasn’t sure I should listen to his suggestions this time.” George has been looking all day for the girl, but it seemed impossible. She always managed to find alternative ways to go to class to avoid him but they both knew she couldn’t hide forever. When she didn’t show up for dinner, Ron hinted at Y/N ’s favourite spot. And there they were, right outside one of the greenhouses.

Y/N didn’t have the strength to find an excuse to sneak away. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically after hiding from him all day. At this point, whatever he needed to tell her, she was ready. “What do you need?” she sounded tired and even a little unpolite but she didn’t care. She forced herself to look up at George’s face. Sparkling eyes and a loving smile looking at her. George

“I’d like to apologize for how I behaved this morning. Alicia and I are not dating, we’re just friends. I actually asked her to help me. That scene this morning was supposed to get some kind of reaction out of you, I never wanted to hurt your feelings.” he stopped to catch his breath. He’d never admit it to anyone but he has been rehearsing this whole speech all day so that he wouldn’t make mistakes. Y/N smiled and nodded weakly, encouraging him to continue. “The thing is that I like you, a lot. And I've tried so hard to make it obvious but it didn’t work. I know I am out of your league. I mean, you’re gorgeous, kind, talented and smart, but I’d be honoured if you’d go out with me”. He couldn’t believe he said that. It was a piece of cake, why didn’t he do it sooner? Silence fell between the two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. George knew Y/N was thinking it through. He didn’t want to pressure her further and so turned around and mentally prayed that everything would turn out fine.

“You know, it hurt. A lot. Today I wanted to tell you the very same thing you told me. But what hurt wasn’t the act itself but the fact that I thought I was late to tell you that I liked you.” George turned to face the girl, who was now smiling. “All day, I've wanted to slap myself because of that. It seemed like, the only time I decide to speak clearly about my feelings and overcome my shyness, I get there late. So, it’s me who’d be honoured to go out with you” her smile was wider now. And though it was dark outside, George saw her cheeks turn red. “Friday night it is then. It’s a date.” it was difficult to contain the happiness now. Before he could stop himself, he felt his arms wrap around Y/N’s figure in a tight hug. The girl grinned and reciprocated. “It’s a date, then” she confirmed and lost herself in George’s arms.

#writing #george weasley #george weasley x you #george weasley x reader #george weasley oneshot #harry potter

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1994sunflower · 3 years

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I need some jealous/possessive Mikey lol

in which michael gets jealous

It was a pattern. Maybe that’s why Michael hated the beginning of semesters. To see all the new transfers who didn’t know him, and worse didn’t know you were claimed by him. He couldn't exactly blame them. If you were in his classes, he was sure he would’ve been quickly taken in by you as well.

Your kind smiles, your intelligence, your tendency to make everyone feel important and the approachable aura around you. Not to mention the way you managed to look at once cute, in need of defense, and beautiful. But that was all for him.

Your smiles, the feeling of your skin on his, your kisses, your love. It was all for him, he had gotten you to be his. And somehow the thought that others didn’t know that, that they thought they had a chance to be the ones to receive your affection was frustrating. He didn’t want to share your affections with anyone. Especially ones that were so arrogant to think they could try to entrance you just a few days after seeing you for the first time. As if Michael, crazy as it may seem to everyone including himself, hadn’t earned your love, as if he wasn’t your soulmate who never had any plans of letting you go.

He was your first everything and he intended to be your only. Sure he understood what made you so alluring to boys but it was the same reasons he was so protective over you. No one else would get a taste of your innocence, partly because apart from the facade you still had in public, there wasn’t much left thanks to him. He had stolen that doe-eyed little girl everyone else saw away and made you into his. His girlfriend to do whatever he pleased with and his girlfriend who loved him so completely and had eyes for no one else. You wouldn’t look at any other man like you looked at him, you were so completely infatuated and knew no one else could make you feel as good and as loved as Michael did.

Sometimes he felt like a dark cloud of shadows behind the sun when he stood beside you, tainting and ruining you. But if it meant you were so happy to bear his marks both invisible and visible; marks that you were taken by Michael, he was fine with it.

But even those marks seemed to be useless at diverting the new students flooding his campus every semester.

Because how could they be effective when they had no idea who Michael was and what he was capable of. Sure the whispers floating around about him were terrifying but rumors always exaggerated the truth.

At least that’s what Oliver kept repeating to himself and to his roommate whenever the much more experienced student tried to dissuade whatever his intentions were with you. Oliver was a transfer so it was expected for him to be a bit too quick to make his mind up about liking you. I mean you were pretty, kind and seemed to radiate an energy that made everyone feel comfortable and important. It was a shame really that someone so jarringly different from you had taken you.

But Benjamin, his roommate who had been at the university for years and knew quite well about your relationship with Michael didn’t think it was so expected for him to be so stupid as to blow off any warnings he tried to give him.

“What I’m hearing is that her boyfriend sucks.” Oliver said to Benjamin but his eyes never left your form, bent over a textbook even in the very beginning of the semester right outside of the library. The sun seemed to be shining on you just right to give you a heavenly glow. As if Oliver needed any extra help seeing you as an angel.

The moment he saw you in his anatomy class he was hooked. He saw the way you acted. The kind smiles and voice, the friendliness with which you regarded the strangers beside you, your colleagues. The pretty way you carried yourself, gentle movements and demure demeanor that made you modest and shy but the look in your eye that showed just how intelligent you were and confident in that. Being in your vicinity was like a breath of fresh air. You felt…well, innocent. Like a doll. The pure happiness and allure innocence brings. Maybe it was that very same aura that attracted so many less than well intentioned men to you; the defenseless look in your eye, the delicate shyness that he was sure every male in the vicinity would love to crack. It would bring primal urges out of anyone.

He’d heard everything about you since. Apparently you were popular, but mostly because of your boyfriend. Whom Oliver couldn’t quite fathom had been able to steal your heart from all of the things he’s heard about him. He wasn’t anyone that Oliver thought would even catch your eye if the rumors were true. How could someone like that be able to call someone so light and upright his.

He hadn’t ever seen the guy. Not that he wanted to, now that he began to understand that his interest was in you he had no reason to be face to face with the person in his way. Besides, the little issue of you having a boyfriend that everyone said didn’t deserve you shouldn’t be hard to handle. His charm was legendary in his hometown, after all. Pair that with someone that people say looks like the grim reaper at your sunny side, he thought he had a good chance.

Oliver was never shy. Always outgoing, confident. And how could he not be, he was attractive and his friendly demeanor made him popular. That wouldn’t change even in a new school, a new much bigger college.

“What’s the harm in talking to her, right? And I mean…” He smirked cockily, “If I get her to like me and dump him, then that’s just a bonus.”

Benjamin buried his face in his hands in frustration, “Dude, you’re not listening. I’m telling you Michael…”

And there it was. The name. Michael. It was all Oliver ever heard whispered on campus. As if the guy was an enigma or a legend. The very name brought people to stop whether in fear or in awe. Again, the thought that the sweet girl in his class could be that guy’s girlfriend was almost beyond his comprehension. Defied all the rules he thought were unspoken and in place.

He heard his name for the first time after his first class with you. The only seat available was the one next to you because he arrived so late, he got lost on the way. And the welcoming smile you gave him made all his first day nerves disappear. The way you asked him about himself with that angelic smile, what it felt to be a new transfer and how he was doing with finding friends and finding his classes, listened to his thoughts about the first day. Even soothing his worries and offering any help you could. It made him feel important and comfortable.

It was what wouldn’t leave his mind as his thoughts constantly flowed back to you.

“…and I’m not trying to get into problems with Michael just because my roommate is a dip shit who can’t listen to what people are trying to tell him.”

“It’s fine…” Oliver dismissed his comments, his voice raspy and almost sing songy as he took a step in your direction. “I can handle it.”

Besides he wasn’t around. Even if he was, Oliver thought he could play it off as if he wasn’t flirting. What’s the worst the guy could do?

When you looked up at him as you felt someone stand in front of you, instead of having to squint against the sun, it seemed as if the sunlight shone perfectly to make your eyes sparkle. Oliver might have been holding his breath at the sight of you when you smiled endearingly.

“Hi.” You said softly, the front strands of your hair draped over your shoulder while you pushed the rest of it behind your back. “Oliver, right? From anatomy?”

Oliver was mute as he nodded. To hear you not only say his name but to know that you remembered it made him instantly feel more confident and significant. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. He was attractive, funny and you were perfect for him, kind, docile. It was almost meant to be. How it should be, as he has seen all his life in movies and songs. The good guy gets the girl. Always. You’d see that easily enough, even if currently you were rebelling against the rules, because it would become apparent with enough time spent with him. Enough charming he did.

“Can I sit here?” He asked, pointing to the empty spot in the bench beside you and slid into it easily when you nodded silently. “What are you reading?”

He was aware he was leaning close to you when he pretended to want to read whatever textbook was in your hands and he wondered if it was out of niceness that you didn’t pull away or if it was something else. His looks did make it easy for girls to want to be close to him physically. He couldn’t help but notice when he glanced at you, the light purple marks littering your neck. They were big and would definitely be darker if it weren't for the foundation you used to try to cover them. He could see them from your neck to your collarbone and some even peaking out from the top of your dress, right where the swell of your breasts started. It seemed like Michael liked to stake his claim for everyone to see.

“Just some anatomy, actually, funnily enough.” You shrugged easily, your nose crinkling in a sheepish smile. “I wanted to read ahead before class.”

Oliver hummed, meeting your smile. “Pretty and smart”

You knew you probably shouldn’t giggle at that. But you did anyway. Compliments were always nice. You realize he was flirting when he said that but it was harmless. He couldn’t have meant anything more out of it. But then again, sometimes you forgot that there were new students on campus now that didn’t know that you were Michael’s girlfriend or even who Michael was, which only ended up bringing trouble.

“That’s sweet. You went to a community college right? There’s a lot more options here so with that kind of talk I’m sure you’ll get the girl you want in no time.” You were trying to be friendly, closing the book and giving him your attention. He seemed like a sweet guy. Outgoing, sociable and just a little nervous, maybe a little flirty.

It was cute, in a puppy kind of way. You didn’t really have many friends like that, it was refreshing. You hoped he had a good year, found the friends he had confided in you with feeling a little lost at in such a bigger and more individualistic environment than he was used to. He was definitely someone you could imagine being friends with either way, if he needed one. It was easy to talk to him, you found that out pretty quickly when you welcomed him in anatomy, noting the way he looked just a bit shy and lost when he first sat down.

A few years ago you would’ve been the shy, nervous mess in her first year of college. But now, after meeting Michael, you were confident, had found her voice and who she was and you weren’t sure who to thank for that, college or Michael. Maybe both.

“I’m looking at the girl I want right now.” Oliver noted the way you eyes opened in surprised, your mouth opening quickly with a slight frown on your lips. Too much too fast. So he would have to take his time with you. He could do that. Better to let you believe it was just a joke, a token of his flirty personality. It wasn’t completely a lie anyway.

He chuckled and shook his head, “No, but really. With the way things are going, I don’t think I’ll be getting friends let alone a girl in a while. Why is everyone so…solitary here?”

Your warmth came back when you nodded as if you understood his words, relieved that what you thought was a blossoming friendship hadn’t turned into something awkward. Your body was turned to him and he turned to you, your knees were touching but he was sure you didn’t even realize.

“Well, it’s a big school.” You started out, looking out into the grassy Quad in front of you where students were sitting by themselves in benches, below trees, in hammocks. “There’s so many people you’re not really likely to be able to get to know someone and keep seeing them often.”

“But I see you out of class!” He pointed at you jokingly and smiled when you laughed. Melodic.

“I guess that’s true. If that’s it, then I can be your friend!”

“Really?” His voice was more excited than he wanted it to be but he didn’t mind it when he made you giggle again at his antics. Really like a puppy. “That’d be great! Hey, if you give me your number we can-”

He stopped speaking so abruptly and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Partly because the sunlight that was shining from behind you suddenly went away as a big shadow covered you and Oliver. Sure enough, with a glance behind you and upwards, your eyes met your boyfriend.

Your very pissed off boyfriend. His jaw was set and his eyes were staring unshakenly at Oliver with a look so angry and cold you were sure it could turn hell into ice. He was wearing a white tank and ripped jeans. The white contrasted with his exposed tattoos, showing the union of his tattoos from his fingers all the way to his neck and down his chest. It showed his muscles without anything to hide them. His hair fell messily over his forehead. If it wasn’t for the situation you would probably be drooling over how good he looked.

“Mikey.” Your smile left Oliver and went to Michael, looking at him lovingly with your doe eyes. One of your hands reached out and took his balled up hand in your grasp. Your warmth was now on the man that Oliver felt cold with fear just looking at. The juxtaposition had Oliver unconsciously moving away from you.

He’d heard about Michael but he never imagined he’d look like that. Or maybe it was more shocking when next to you. His size was daunting enough. Oliver wasn’t a short guy but Michael had a good five inches on him and his shoulder width made him seem even bigger. Certainly with you sitting in front of him looking petite and dainty, he looked like a giant. Shown by the way your hand covering his barely covered most of his hand. When you stood to greet him, your head barely skimmed his chest. If you were to kiss or if Michael were to grab you, it almost seemed to Oliver like you could very easily break.

And his tattoos, each blending together in various scenes, some gory and some symbolic. Up to his neck and everywhere, every piece of skin displayed was covered in ink. Pain was definitely not something he feared, maybe even liked. If Oliver read right, his fingers themselves were telling him what Michael was likely thinking: FUCK YOU.

His face was stoic, emotionless. It was almost creepy to be in his gaze like that. He seemed like someone capable of anything. And that was not a good thing.

Flashes of your smiling face, your gentle voice and kind eyes filled Oliver’s mind. Your skin that looked so sensitive and pure. It didn’t fit with what your boyfriend represented. It was wrong. Someone so defenseless looking was with someone who looked like the hunting predator. And worse for you to smile up and look at him with all the trust and love in the world. Made him seem like the most important guy in the world. Like he was someone that deserved to be showered with this love. How could he possibly have ensnared someone like you when you were so clearly from different worlds. Could someone like that even give you love? Not like you deserved, not like someone like Oliver who was more similar to you could.

Even when Michael glanced down at you, he didn’t smile. No aspect of his face showed any warmth or love to an outsider looking in. He was cold even to the girl that radiated warmth and happiness. But despite that you must have seen something he didn’t, known him more than he has heard anyone else did, because you smiled brightly and wrapped your arms around one of his, hugging yourself into him.

“This is Oliver, he’s in my anatomy class.” You said, mumbling with your cheek squished against his arm. So cute, so innocent. So…wrong when it was next to Michael who tilted his head as he stared at Oliver, especially when Oliver’s gaze was on you. It was an eerie feeling, as if he was thinking of all the ways he could murder him right where he stood. Or the ways he could beat him to a pulp without you freaking out or getting upset. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move to introduce himself. Silence.

But you, either oblivious to the tension or purposely ignoring it, continued. “Oliver this is my boyfriend, Michael.”

Oliver smiled nervously. He had told Ben he could handle it. And just because it was a little more than he expected, didn’t mean he couldn’t. He couldn’t flirt with a girl he knew had a boyfriend without a backup plan.

“Hey man.” He said, thankful that his tone didn’t betray him but he was sure the white pallor of his face definitely did. “I’ve actually heard a lot about you, kind of a legend around here, huh?”

He chuckled which as not reciprocated by Michael who clenched and unclenched his fist. Restraint, at least when you were around. If you weren’t around, Oliver would already be on the ground bleeding.

It took all his efforts not to do just that when he first saw you with him. You were sitting too close when he saw you. Then the smiles and laughs he brought out of you, that looked so natural. Sometimes, Michael thought about the type of guy others imagined you being with. Someone more kindhearted, matching your personality. But seeing it in person made his blood run hot. The sight of the possibility of you finding someone more suitable for you, someone so different from Michael that could show you just what you were missing, had him angry.

Because no matter what, no matter how different, you were made for him. He knew that. He loved you and he cherished the love you gave him, the smiles and affection you reserved for him that made him feel so cared for. He didn’t want to share that. And as he heard your cute giggle, that he’d heard so many times, at whatever the younger boy was saying to you, he knew that the stranger thought he actually had a chance.

Even when you were so obviously his, when Michael had marked you in so many ways to prove that and when you loved him. His arrogance to think otherwise, that he could change your mind, had Michael wanting to show him just how wrong he was. The smiles you were giving him, the laughs, weren’t special not like the ones you gave him. He’d never see you the way Michael had, shyly blushing at his words, cuddled up next to him in your sleep, naked and trembling. You were only ever going to be Michael’s and nothing and no one can change that. Especially not a gullible little second year.

Oliver cleared his throat. He could see why Benjamin didn’t want any problems with Michael now. But, Oliver’s agreeableness usually led him out of trouble.

“Yeah your girl and I…” Wrong choice of words. He noted the way Michael’s already angry gaze narrowed violently. “…were just talking about our class together. It’s my first year here so she’s been a really big help so far, my first friend I guess.” He chuckled as he tried to emphasize the word friend.

But then his next move was a habit, really. The fact that his hand was reaching out to touch your arm. He was the type of guy that touched people he felt comfortable with. But he realized his mistake immediately when his wrist got caught by a firm, crushing hold. Oliver cried out.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” The first words Michael spoke to him. Your boyfriend’s voice was gravelly, matching his intimidating appearance.

And Oliver had expected him to be strong. Especially from all the stories of his aggressive behavior and fights he had heard. But his hold was more painful than he expected. Oliver winced as his hand was flung away from you.

You tittered nervously next to Michael. You weren’t stupid, you knew Oliver was being a bit too friendly with you. But he hadn’t tried anything full on so you didn’t really mind. Thinking that he’d get over any little crush he could have on you quickly. It had to be because you were the first person to be welcoming to him rather than him actually liking you as a person. So you let him have his fun, not wanting to be mean and crush his feelings especially when he’s already been feeling nervous.

“Mikey, it’s okay.” You whispered, pulling away just enough for your hands to go to his chest soothingly. You felt his arm wrap around your body, resting on your ass possessively and you hated yourself for clenching your thighs together at the action. You were against him being so violent, of course you were. But why did his possessiveness have to be so hot. Especially when he was staking a claim on you publicly, showing everyone how much he loved you. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just go home.”

“Yeah, man, we were just talking I didn’t mean…” But maybe Michael could see through his innocent appearance because he sneered before Oliver could finish.

“Drop the ‘shy’ act. You were leaning towards her like a loser trying to get laid.” Michael reached out and balled his fists into Oliver’s jacket. “And the only reason you’re not getting the shit beat out of you right now is because she’s here.”

Your hands reached out to Michael’s extended one. “Michael! Let him go, you know how I feel about-”

And Michael did what you said. Unfortunately, though, that just meant Oliver fell backwards onto the ground at the force Michael used to push him away. And Michael leaned down just enough to speak again while you scrambled to get your things to be prepared to stop him if he went out of control. Oliver looked up at him with wide eyes, Michael was taller than him beforehand but now Michael had the complete power.

“You knew who I am but you decided to flirt with my girl anyway, tried to touch her, asked for her number. Like you don’t give a fuck what happens to you. Let me save you the trouble of trying to get her to like you, she won’t.” He took a hold of Oliver’s hair painfully and pulled his head backwards, “Because she’s mine, the sweet shy girl you see has someone like me as a boyfriend, and you should fucking learn that quickly for your first year here. Everything about her, everything you like, is mine, mine to do whatever I want to. And she wouldn’t waste her time on a boring fuck like you. Not when she has me.” Not when he could fight for you like no one else could.

“Michael,” You were pulling on his shoulder, “He didn’t mean anything by it. He’s new, he didn’t know.”

Michael looked at you once before back at Oliver. He knew the way Oliver had been looking at you well. Because it was how he looked at you. The way only he should look at you. “He knew but didn’t care because he thought he could get you to like him anyway. To like that he was funny and shy. Admit it.”

Michael let him go as Oliver nodded rapidly, “I-I’m sorry, dude. Yeah, yeah I was flirting with her because I thought she’d like me easily but I had no idea….I mean I did but I didn’t think-”

“Think that I’d see through your shitty act.” Michael stood up straight, moving behind you and wrapped his arms around you, one of his hands gripped your inner thighs while the other cupped below your breasts over the fabric of your dress. You couldn’t help the embarrassed and shy blush adorning you as Michael held you out so Oliver could see the entirety of just how he was groping you, how you were letting him. His mocking smile was right next to your ear. “Hear that, little one? He was playing with you. Making you think he wanted to be your friend when in reality all he wanted was to try to fuck you.”

“No!” Oliver shook his head, looking at you with pleading eyes to not believe your boyfriend’s cruel words. Pointedly ignoring the way Michael was very visibly staking his claim in front of him. Humiliation coursed through him. “I…I actually really like you, it wasn’t like that. I’m sorry, I should have respected the fact that you were taken.”

You were still shaking at how Michael had touched you, debating between being humiliated and being so absolutely turned on at the feelings of his hands and the knowledge of him showing anyone that you were his. You were weak whenever he treated you so roughly, in and out of bed. He reinforced it, taught you to love it. This was no exception.

So when Michael began pulling you away from your shell shocked classmate, you let him. And there was a twisted satisfaction in Michael when you chose to go with him, like you always would. You loved him.

You were silent on the entire way to your apartment, which you led. It was an angry silence, as you proved when you crossed your arms as soon as he closed the door behind you two.

It was more so feeling bad for the guy than anger. You knew he was flirting and it wasn’t fair to Michael to expect him to be okay with it, but you thought of the way Oliver was so energetic and sweet, it felt wrong to treat him so badly. You could have even seen yourself being friends with him. He was only complimenting you anyway. Besides, crush or not, you were sure he would’ve gotten over it eventually. But maybe he was exaggerating his personality to match yours just like Michael claimed. “I feel so bad.”

“I don’t feel bad for that motherfucker trying to flirt with my girl.” Michael muttered darkly. His eyes cut sharply to you. When he approached you, you felt very much like a prey watching her predator stalk towards you until your back hit the wall behind you. “You wanted me to be nice? After he thought he could fucking touch you in front of me. After making you blush and giggle like that.”

“I was not blushing.”

His hand came up to your face and squished your cheeks together, “Please.” He sneered. “I could see the way you were soaking it up, him pining after you like a pathetic puppy. I can’t believe you didn’t let me beat the shit out of him like he deserved, if he wants to act like the idiot he looks like then I’d make him learn that you’re mine. They don’t deserve any part of you, because it’s already for me.” Your smiles, your affection, your innocence, your laughs, your blush. Everything.

You gifted him all those when you fell in love with him and he wasn’t going to let anyone else get a piece. Or think they can earn it and take it, and you, away from him. As if they ever could. He was the one home with you right then. “They can try as much as they fucking want but I got you and tainted, marked, you as mine a long time ago and there’s nothing they can do about it. Fuck, I hate transfers.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed and you felt your heart clanging at his gaze. Oh how the tables turned from you being the mad one to being putty in his hands at the first sign of him treating you a bit rougher from the jealousy coursing through him. “He thought he had a chance when your with me. When he can’t even fucking look me in the eyes without shrinking back. You wanted to keep giggling like a little schoolgirl at his compliments?”

You shook your head submissively, “N-no. I wasn’t. He was just nice and I wanted to make him feel welcome.”

Michael tsk’d dismissively before leaning down to kiss you. His kiss was hungry and angry and you couldn’t help but melt against him as you allowed his tongue to explore your mouth deeper. His fingers were in your hair. “Is that how you welcome other guys, by letting those wimps flirt and touch you when your boyfriend isn’t around?”

His words were mean but he didn’t give you a chance to retort. “I should have had him bleeding at my feet the moment he leaned in too close to you.” He said threateningly, “Those assholes forget who you belong to the moment they see you alone.”

Your whine at his words turned into a helpless gasp when he lifted you up slightly on the wall you were leaning against, just enough for only the very tip of one of your foot to remain on the floor while he went on his knees in front of you. “Wonder what he’d say to know that the nice little girl you are only ever gets her pussy wet for her mean and aggressive boyfriend who’s too big for her. That’s why you were fucking soaking the moment I stopped the dumbass from touching you.”

Michael slid your panties down your legs, the very ones he was sure that second year fantasized about being able to see and discard just like Michael was currently doing without a second thought.

His lips were on your soaking cunt as soon as soon as he finished talking. His tongue lapping at your juices and crevices between your slit like a starving man. Your gasps were broken and breathy and you couldn’t do much except throw your head back against the wall. Your other leg was thrown over his shoulder as he worked on your clit, suckling and nibbling.

A gasp tore through you as he pulled away only to spit on your exposed pussy filthily before his mouth returned to its work. Your hand was in his hair as he licked flatly on your core before his tongue began teasing your entrance. You knew this was coming the second you saw him so mad at the Quad. And you were more than glad to anticipate it. “Yes, I do. Love watching you show them how pathetic they are to even try when I have you. So big and scary. Only love you, only you.”

Your hips were grinding against his lips and he rewarded the words you knew he would love by entering his middle and ring finger into you. The stretch was delicious even if it was nothing compared to his cock. And the feeling of them moving in and out of your cunt as he never stopped eating you out had your face scrunching as a particularly loud moan left your dropped mouth. It was almost too much.

“Is that why you toy with their health by trying to pissing me off?” Michael moved his fingers faster inside of you and you could practically feel your orgasm coming. He always managed to get you to your release quickly.

You pulled at his hair as he grabbed your hips and pulled you deeper into his mouth, his hands squeezing your hips tightly and almost painfully from how mad he was. “I’m sorry.” You chanted, “So sorry. Didn’t mean it. I won’t do it again.”

You were submitting to him so perfectly, apologizing just like he wanted to hear. He was hard the moment you denied wanting your classmates affection. The dismissive way you didn’t care about him because your love and affection was solely for your boyfriend. Michael. But to hear you apologize, solidifying just how much you’d choose him and his needs and feelings over everyone else. How you would always be obedient to him, how easily he could dominate you to submission even after other men tried to take you away. Apologizing because he was the only man that should ever be receiving your affections like that, the only one that was capable of putting you in this state.

He needed to be inside you, immediately. Claim you completely. Like you were practically begging to be. He never knew the word sorry could be so hot. At least when moaned out like that, it had to be.

If it weren’t for Michael’s hands on you and the wall behind you, you were sure you would have collapsed already. You didn’t have enough strength to hold yourself up, you could barely feel your legs as Michael swirled his tongue on your clit, his fingers moving rapidly in your entrance so much so that you could practically hear the noises at your wetness.

Your leg over his shoulder pushed him in further as your entire body shook. The only leg holding you up gave out but you stayed in place as he pushed you against the wall even harder than before. His name left your mouth in a moaning, broken mess of syllables. Even as your body rode out your orgasm, his mouth never stopped its lapping of your juices. In fact, you felt rather than heard his deep moan at the taste of your release.

His entire mouth and even bottom of his nose were wet from your wetness and cum as he stood up, towering over you once again. You were panting as you looked up at him but his eyes were as angry as ever.

You tried to give him the most innocent naive eyes you could to calm him, and you couldn’t help but whimper apologetically under his gaze, “Daddy…”

“Shut up,” He growled out. “Gotta fucking remind you who you belong to.”

One of his hands pushed down the straps of your dress. When he positioned himself to your entrance and entered you in one rough thrust, not giving you time to adjust to the new girth that was filling you up so nicely, the front of your dress fell away from covering you.

Your back flush against the wall, you moaned out when his warm mouth suckled and licked at your tits. His mouth alternated between them as he thrusted into you. Your body moved against the concrete and your legs around him to hold yourself up only served to push him deeper into you.

Maybe it was the position that had you so helpless but each inch he moved inside you, you felt your cunt being stretched apart impossibly so. He filled your little cunt so completely that with only a few inches of him inside, you could look down and see the girth of the rest of his dick look wider and bigger than your entrance should be able to fit. You clenched around him at the sight and he groaned in your ear as you did, sheathing himself in his entirety into you. You were tight but he had trained your body to take him impossibly well.

His hips thrusted into you at a fast pace and you threw your head back against the wall at the feeling of his cock running along your walls. Moans and gasps left you, as his thick length filled you up, claiming every part of you that only he had ever, and will ever, feel. He was so long, you body spasmed each time you felt him bottom out in you.

“So good” You whimpered out, your hands tightening their hold around his shoulders.

You were helpless to do anything but just clench around him as each thrust pushed you further into the wall. It almost hurt but you were too desperate for him and into the pleasure to notice or care. The only thing holding you up was Michael’s arms. But if your pleasured sounds were anything to go by, you didn’t mind the submissive position you were in.

In fact, Michael’s groans each time your walls hugged him tighter, sucking him in further and begging to go harder, showed that you loved it. He watched your face carefully, your mouth lolling open and your eyes glazed with tears of pleasure. His thrusts seemed more punctuated than before, barely giving you enough time to moan out as the sound of skin slapping increased.

Each thrust racked your body. He bounced you on his cock with each thrust, his strength to do so had you moaning out. Your small frame was almost completely concealed by his large one. The only parts of you that could be seen where your extremities that hung onto him and the pleasure he was providing you. Your tiny body was what made it so easy to use you like he set out to do. To claim you so entirely.

“He looked so fucking happy at getting you to laugh, got his dick hard just by talking to you. All of that, yet I’m the one that’s fucking you right after.” Michael pushed your dress up. It was basically useless by then, limping hanging on to your body just by your waist, the top had been pulled down to expose your tits to him and the bottom moved up to your waist so he could see himself driving into you, stretching you out impossibly at his size.

“Wonder, fuck, what he’d think to know that no matter how much he tried, the girl he likes is milking my cock like the slut I made you become. Letting the guy that nearly pummeled him fuck her raw, minutes after he tried to get you to just notice him.”

Your hips circled as you ground against him. His words were too much. They were cruel but somehow, you felt yourself get wetter, whining for him to take you harder. You were his to do whatever he wanted. You didn’t care if anyone else liked you, because you knew your boyfriend would let them know proudly that you weren’t available. You were already claimed, by him. You loved feeling so protected and wanted.

“He’s too late. You’re already mine. Already ruined you, took away that innocence he likes so much just for me. Only I will ever get to have you like this, what he can just fantasize about. The guy he got scared shitless of just because of how I looked so different next to you made you into a dumb cock-hungry whore. Can’t even think about anything other than my cock in you.”

You were nodding along without even realizing it wearing a fucked out expression. Especially when Michael’s hand came up to your neck, squeezing it enough that you breathed in a breath of surprise. Your eyes nearly rolled back with high pitched, broken moans when he hammered into you, until his balls hit your skin and your hips met his. It was so fast, so rough, and so good.

“You want a nice guy?” You whimpered at his mocking tone he had taken up with you, “You like that I’m mean, don’t you?”

“Yes, yesyes. I l-love it when you’re mean, when you show others I’m yours, daddy.” Your words were slurred. So drunk at the feeling of him fucking into you so roughly. At your continued nodding, his finger came up to your chin and forced your mouth open. When he spit at you, most of it landed more on your skin and he nearly growled possessively at the sight of you so dirty covered with his spit.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours! I’m only yours. I’m sorry for not telling him t…to fuck off. So sorry. I don’t care about anyone else.” You were basically screaming as his angle changed, bringing you to your limit. He rubbed along that spot inside you that always had you seeing lights.

Your lips found his inked neck, suckling. “T-They’re all pathetic. Only you can fuck my pussy, daddy. Only you can make me feel so good.”

“Shit, say that again.”

“They’re pathetic to think they can have me.” You didn’t care how mean your words were if they pleased him. You pushed your hips as much as you could to his rhythm but at your words, he stopped you from being able to move at all.

Instead, he was holding you like nothing more than a doll, a flesh light, as he fucked into your tight hole with new vigor. The doll Oliver had seen in you was now being defiled by him. Hissing at the feeling of your wetness practically dripping down his length. The filthy squelching sounds each time he bottomed out into you might have embarrassed you if it weren’t for how lost you were at having him dominate you so completely and how Michael looked so fucked out himself, loving the words and being able to claim you, remind you that no one else could ever have you like this.

Even a nice boy that seemed like a perfect fit because you already had him, you would never need or have anyone else. But, with how you were feeling, you couldn’t imagine ever thinking about anyone else. You couldn’t speak, let alone keep your eyes open as he used you with you weak to his pace and powerful thrusts, held up just by his arms and held still by his hand on your hips.

“Taking me so good, little one.” He muttered, his voice strained. “They’re not going to fucking know who you belong to until I fuck my cum into you and get you round with my baby. Gonna knock you up so they can see that you’ll never be with them, that you’re mine. Mark you inside and out.”

They were the words that always had your heart swelling and clanging in your chest. To think of something that intimate with him, to imagine yourself carrying something that can’t be ignored or hidden to show that you were his, that he had claimed you in all ways imaginable, in ways people never would have expected between you. That the big, aggressive, mean man that many feared had taken your small, shy, sweet person and you had let him, willing and responsive. It was so hot.

You came around him instantly, biting your lip and moaning, eyelids droopy tiredly from the pleasure as you felt him continue to trust into you, fucking your cum back into you until his own thrusts got slower and sloppier.

When he came inside you, he held you close, until every last bit of his cum filled your cunt. He didn’t want to waste a drop, fill you to the brim with his seed. But still, when he began pulling out, the mixture of both of your releases dripped down your thighs. Yet still, Michael’s fingers pushed his cum back inside of you with his fingers. The overstimulation to your sore, abused cunt made you whine but you still clenched around his fingers nonetheless. Every bit the slut for him he had made you to be.

Michael was still holding you up easily, a good foot higher above the ground than you would have been if you stood by yourself. You were breathing heavy still feeling the remnants of the pleasure you had experienced just moments before at his hand. Your legs felt like jelly. If this was what it took for him to fuck you like that then maybe you had to let others flirt with you more often. Maybe you were the cock-hungry slut Michael had said you were.

You realized that you seemed pretty naive in the eyes of others. And that maybe that was why some guys liked you. But that had changed in you a long time ago, no matter how you appeared in public. You were filthy for your boyfriend, would let him do anything he wanted to you because you were more than happy to have him ruin your purity if it was for him. To have him own your body in a way no one else had ever done.

Michael finally moved you away from the wall, setting you down gently on the comfortable couch as he kissed your lips. “Did so well for me.” He mumbled. His hands were squeezing your cheeks together to make you look at him, your heart stuttered at the rough gesture. “Did you finally remember who you belonged to for next time some idiot tries to flirt with you?”

You pouted as much as you could with your face in his hand, reminded that you were actually mad at him after you had walked home. Oh how easy it was for him to completely stop your thoughts and turn you to the submissive, responsive girl that would agree to anything he said. “It’s not like I would have actually liked him like that, you didn’t have to hurt the poor guy, he was so embarrassed.”

Michael narrowed his eyes at you but you beat him to it with a big smile that he wondered how you could come up with even after the fucking he had just given you. “I was just being nice. It doesn’t matter who flirts with me, Mikey. I’m yours.” Your arms wrapped around his torso. His arms took a bit longer but eventually they wrapped around your small frame too.

You were his. There was nothing to remind you of because you knew. No matter how different you two were, he was the one you loved and the only would that would ever have intimate moments with. It was just a reinforcement that whatever moment you had had with him meant nothing because despite not being nice, funny or sociable, Michael was still the only one you’d ever give your affections to.

And if others trying to challenge that just meant that your strong boyfriend would show everyone who you belonged to, protectively, even if you trying to be nice to them and he….wasn’t, that didn’t seem so bad either.

“That was her boyfriend?” Oliver was still shaking when he returned back to his frozen roommate.

Benjamin nearly hissed back at him with a glare, “Don’t act like I didn’t warn you, asshole. You’re lucky you’re not in an ambulance right now.”

“Well yeah but I thought you were exaggerating, how are they even dating? She’s so…” Oliver was still pale with the good scare Michael had given him, saved only by your mercy.

“No one knows.” Ben muttered, finally seeming to shake out of the skittering shell he had gotten in as soon as he saw Michael approaching his roommate. He had been so careful to never cross paths with Michael but somehow, Oliver had done it in his first week there. “But they’re pretty serious, they’ve been dating for years. So if I were you, I’d drop whatever the hell fantasy you have about her. I’m not going to try to go against him for you whenever he’s finally gotten sick of you hovering over her.”

In all honesty, Oliver was used to his charm working. He was sure he would be able to at least find a place in your life, wanted it. That seemed fruitless when confronted with your boyfriend, no amount of niceness on his part would ever get through to him, give him any misguided trust in Oliver with you. It didn’t help him get you to like him and it didn’t help him get out of trouble with your boyfriend.

Certainly didn’t help him when he was forced to walk by you two. It seemed now that he had gotten on Michael’s bad side, Michael was creative with his torture. Specifically in choosing to walk you to your anatomy class. It was a sweet gesture, common in relationships. But his anterior motive was obvious when he leaned against the wall right next to the door. Keeping you with him until only a minute before class, right about the time when Oliver would be walking past to get inside on time.

That was when Michael would set his lips to yours. Taking no care in being modest for the sake of being in public. He deepened the kiss almost as soon as your lips connected, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

Maybe it would have been bearable, even with it being completely impossible for Oliver to ignore or pretend not to see when it was so blatant in front of him and where he had to go. But any semblance of endurance was crumbled the moment he made eye contact with Michael.

Michael was staring right at him, triumphant and condescending, taunting as his lips moved with yours. The same sweet lips that had always made Oliver feel so welcome. As you were on your tiptoes, eyes closed and melting against him as your tongues explored each others mouths, letting him do whatever he wanted even in public. His eyes were steady on Oliver even as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged it down slowly before kissing you deeply again.

Michael’s eyes were wide open as he stared at the guy who had dared to think of himself as a worthy adversary. He was nothing. And Michael was nearly smirking against your lips. Arrogant and the reason, the prize, was right in his arms to give reason. And Oliver was empty handed and embarrassed all over again.

Oliver wasn’t sure if the fact that he hadn’t gotten beaten to a pulp was something to be grateful for when he had to deal with this sting to his pride and feelings. It wasn’t like he wasn’t watching his back in fear either way.

#5sos #5sos smut #Michael clifford #Michael clifford x reader #bad boy michael #bad boy smut #Michael clifford smut #5sos imagines #jealous michael #jealous bad boy #jealous smut #college au

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goldentournesol · 4 years

Text

Leather Jacket

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Morgan buys Spencer a leather jacket for his birthday and he’s too nervous to wear it in front of the Reader.

Length: 1.1k

A/N: I KNOW THE PIC IS MATTHEW BUT LET’S JUST ~PRETEND~ IT’S SPENCER! let me know if you guys like this one, i feel iffy about it

masterlist

Spencer never really cared for his birthday the way other people did. To him, it was barely a reason for celebration, but seeing all his loved ones happy for once made him feel a warmth he lacked growing up. It was the same with gifts, really. He appreciated the gesture and was always gracious, but was never one to expect extravagant gifts. His friends usually got him gift cards to local coffee shops, Doctor Who themed merchandise, ties, that kind of thing. This year, however, Morgan had decided on something else. Even though Morgan knew how much Spencer loved his button downs and cardigans, he couldn’t help but notice a lack of casual attire in the young genius’ closet.

“Uh, Morgan? What’s this?” Spencer looked at Morgan with a puzzled look on his face as his fingers fumbled with the handles of a paper bag that was sitting on his chair upon his arrival at his desk.

“It’s your birthday gift, pretty boy!” Morgan chimed as he got up from his seat to march to Spencer, “Look, I know it’s different, but I think you could really pull it off.”

“But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow…” Spencer trailed off, eyeing the bag slightly, wondering if this was one of Morgan’s practical jokes. He couldn’t help but be intrigued at whatever was inside so he didn’t waste any time ripping into the bag.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. Morgan had bought him a black leather jacket. Spencer --with all his knowledge-- could not think of anything that could have suited him less than a leather jacket. Spencer had no control over the expression he made. It was a mix of a shocked expression, a grimace, and a failed attempt to cover the two. Spencer was suddenly extremely grateful for the bullpen being mostly empty.

“I know, I know. But before you freak out, give it a chance. I think it has real potential. I don’t call you pretty boy for nothing.” Morgan smirked and Spencer could feel a wave of panic approaching.

“Morgan--what...how..I don’t even know how to style it?” Spencer shook his head as he put it back in the bag and pushed it underneath his desk before anyone saw it as he took a seat.

“Relax, I’ll help you out. Wear it tomorrow. I think it just might catch a certain someone’s eye.” Morgan’s teasing voice dropped to a whisper as his eyes made their way to the glass door that was being pushed open by Y/N. Spencer’s face immediately flushed as he followed Morgan’s gaze.

“I have n-no idea what you’re talking about.” He made an attempt to divert the conversation.

“Come on, Reid. Did you think we wouldn’t notice your massive crush on Hotch’s new assistant?” Morgan chuckled but soon stopped as she made her way over to where the two were.

“Morning, guys!” She exclaimed before noticing Spencer’s flushed face, “Is everything alright, Spencer?”

“Yeah! Yeah, totally.” He stammered. Unwilling to embarrass himself any further, he grabbed a few random files and took off in the direction of Garcia’s office with no real intention of going there.

“Is he alright?” Y/N furrowed her brows as she looked to Morgan for an answer.

“Oh yeah, he’s fine, trust me.” he laughed, “You’re coming to Reid’s birthday dinner tomorrow, right?”

She nodded with a grin but her mind couldn’t help but wander to Spencer.

---

Rossi was kind enough to host the dinner party for Spencer, but everyone knew he just wanted an excuse to cook his favorite food. Y/N didn’t think she’d be invited because she didn’t feel like she was part of the team, but they all assured her that she belonged there. She insisted on getting there early to help Rossi with the setup and he was extremely grateful for it. She watched as everyone arrived, only she was a little more than excited to see Spencer. She tried everything she knew of to try and get over the crush she’d developed on the young genius, but to no avail. Every time she tried to pull away, he pulled her in two times as much.

Everyone was slightly more dressed up than usual and it was a nice change to see everyone in a lighter setting. She and JJ had been deep in conversation at the island of the kitchen when she realized that everyone had arrived except for Morgan and Reid. Morgan had gone to Reid’s place to help him out with the outfit since he was completely in over his head about it.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Emily asked and just like clockwork, the doorbell rang. Rossi quickly made his way over and opened the door to reveal the two missing agents.

“We’ve arrived!” Morgan exclaimed as he pulled a reluctant Spencer into the house.

Y/N took in a sharp breath of air as soon as she saw him and tried to cover it up with a cough, but JJ noticed, smirking as she sipped her wine. Alarm bells rang through every neuron in Y/N’s brain. Spencer Reid was in a leather jacket and he looked good.

Her eyes were glued to him as he maneuvered his way through the birthday hugs and kisses. The jacket fit him like a glove and accentuated the otherwise subtle broadness of his shoulders. She’d only ever seen him in his work attire, which she loved, but this was a good look for him. Morgan saw the dazed look on her face from across the room and sent JJ a knowing smirk.

Y/N and Spencer locked eyes and she finally snapped out of it. She flashed him a bright smile as he approached her.

“Happy birthday, Spencer!” She smiled as she stood to hug him tightly, getting a whiff of his cologne.

“Thanks, Y/N.” He stepped back from the hug and his hand mindlessly fidgeted with the zipper at the bottom of the jacket, a shy smile adorning his face.

“You look great! The jacket really suits you.” she grinned as she rested a hand on his arm, “N-not that your other clothes don’t suit you! I mean, you always look great!” she backtracked nervously which earned a laugh from Spencer.

“Thank you! I’m glad you like it. Honestly, Morgan kind of forced me into it. I really didn’t think I could pull it off.” Spencer flushed as he let go of the zipper and slipped his hands into the pockets of the jacket, the movement nearly sending Y/N into orbit. He glanced back at Morgan who was standing with the rest of the team just to see them all unashamedly watching the interaction.

“Are you kidding, Spence? You look...” she paused, “sexy!” She panicked as soon as she said it but soon found comfort in Spencer’s toothy grin.

“He shoots, he scores.” Morgan mumbled to the group, sending them all into a fit of laughter.

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid masterlist #cm

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dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

Forever and Never

A/N: Welcome back, luvs ❤️ Glad to have you back

Warnings: mentions of marijuana

Word Count: 2876

—————————————

Two: Gotta Have Soul

“What was school like for you?”

“Like, a regular school day?”

“Yeah, like a regular school day.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A normal day of school for me was like walking around in a glass bubble. This isn’t a metaphor for personal space, but rather the concept of fitting in. Clearly, I fit in at school, but not in the way I expected to. I could walk amongst my peers and smile in their faces, talk with them, but it’d be difficult to hear through the glass of my bubble. We could reach out to each other and hope for a connection, but our hands would forever be disconnected by the glass. But they seemed to be fine with it. They didn’t want to come into my bubble, they just wanted to admire me from the outside. And I supposed I was fine with that, as well. It wasn’t like I opened my bubble for anyone, even invited anyone inside. I let Dina in once and got paranoid. Paranoid that she’d take up the air, that she’d hate my bubble and what I’d have to offer within it. So, I did what I thought was best and kindly asked her to leave. Assured her that she could maybe come back another time, when I was ready. As the sweet and considerate person that she was, she had no problem with it.

Stan didn’t need to live in a glass bubble because he didn’t need to fit in. And I’ve never needed to open the bubble myself to allow him access. He was welcome anytime and entered as he pleased. He was the only person who understood me. I realize that we had more in common than I thought. No one understood our fashion senses, our tastes in music, the way we preferred to keep to ourselves. I could breathe around him and smile and laugh, I mean actually laugh. It was just a shame it all had to wait until after school. Stan and I lived in two different worlds at school. Sometimes I’d catch a ride with him if he left his house the same time I did mine. The second we would set foot on the school campus, we were strangers. It wasn’t that we were embarrassed of each other, I just think Stan was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. Hell, I was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. I’d much rather be walking down those halls with Stan, Dina, and Sydney (if she was comfortable with me). Luckily, I had classes with each of them.

I had nearly every class with Dina, save for honor choir and theatre classes. We found a way to sit near each other in every class we had and talked about everything and nothing for the entire hour. Half of my classes were with Stanley, and those hours were full of glancing at each other and playfully winking or blowing kisses. He’d pass me notes old-school style, but always avoided the route that would lead to either Ricky or Brad. We had a couple of run-ins that led to them teasing Stan before the note could even reach me. Study hall was one of the only times Stan and I would actually sit together and talk in school. Sometimes we’d study, sometimes we’d skip and go smoke outside. Nonetheless, we’d make the most out of our time together.

I only had two classes with Sydney and both included Dina, so there still wasn’t much going on between us at school. She wasn’t as active in gym class as we were, so it was a lot of her cheering us on when we played basketball or dodgeball. She was usually the person to hand me Stan’s notes in science, having to dodge Ricky and Brad’s grabbing hands so that I could quickly snatch it. Luckily, I only had two classes with Ricky and Brad, and they both included Dina and Stan. So, I was never trapped in an uncomfortable situation with Ricky before their eyes.

Science was the most chaotic class for me. Not only did I not care for the subject, but my seat was away from both Stan and Dina. I was nearly sandwiched between Ricky and Brad, which set me on edge most days. Despite this, I simply tried my best to focus on my school work. “And yes, during arousal, there is an increase in all sorts of things, including adrenaline and, of course, blood flow,” Mr File droned on as I wrote down notes in my notebook. Dina always said she thought it was cute how I used different colors for each day. Little did she know, once I started this system, I couldn’t stop it. This was to the point that I had to buy a set of pens for each class. I couldn’t use my green math pen for my Tuesday science class. “And the blood flow continues down and then gets trapped within the corpora cavernosa. The penis expands, and this is how the Homo sapien male is able to hold an erection. Yes?”

My attention was diverted to Bradley, who raised his hand. Once he was called on, he set his hand back down and straightened his posture. “From my experience, Mr File, the holding of an erection is far more successful in the hands of a Homo sapien female.” His inappropriate joke sent an eruption of laughter throughout the classroom. I rolled my eyes in irritation.

“Very funny, Mr Lewis.” Mr File deadpanned.

“Just talkin’ science.”

“Moving on.” As my teacher turned back to the chalkboard, Ricky and Brad reached over my head to high five each other. I scoffed and continued on with my notes. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ricky turn around to speak to Sydney.

“Ah. Oh, come on, fire crotch. Laugh. That was funny.”

“Don’t be a prick, Ricky,” I hissed, the boy’s head snapping over to me. “It wasn’t even that funny.”

Ricky tilted his head at me and gave a soft smile, his hand reaching over and clasping around my wrist. “Okay, babe, I’ll leave your friend alone-”

“And don’t call me babe.” I yanked my wrist from his grasp. He froze, shocked, his mouth opening and closing as if at a loss for words.

“Mr Berry, if you could take your eyes off of Ms (Y/L/N) for one second to listen to my lecture, that would be very much appreciated.” At the sound of Mr File’s voice, Ricky quickly turned forward and returned to his notes.

“I’ll definitely try my best, sir.” He smirked, Bradley chuckling and reaching over my head again to give his friend another high five. My eyes fell on Stanley, who was watching the interaction in annoyance. When his gaze met mine, he gave me a sympathetic look. I only held my fingers in the position of a gun up to my temple and pretended to fire it. He shook his head in amusement before turning his attention back to Mr File. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as Sydney glanced between Dina and our teacher before her gaze settled on me. She gave me a small smile and mouthed a ‘thank you’. I winked at her and gave a thumbs up. That was the start of one of the very few friendly interactions we’d have throughout the week.

On my way home from school that day, I spotted Syd and ran to catch up with her. “Hey, Sydney.” I grinned, the girl jumping a bit when I appeared by her side.

“O-Oh. Um, hey, Zip.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” I chuckled. “You’re normal.”

She smiled and stared down at her feet. “Uh… Why are you walking with me?” I frowned at her question, but she raised her head quickly. “Like, no offense, but… you usually just… keep to yourself. Or you get a ride from Stanley.”

“I stayed after for theatre rehearsal,” I shrugged. “But we never talk. We’re neighbors, Syd. And we’re both friends with Dina. Isn’t it weird we never talk?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I’m not saying we should hang out everyday and tell each other secrets, but… you know.”

“No, yeah, I get it. I mean, Dina likes you… So does everyone else, so you must be really cool to be around.”

“Well, that’s something you can find out for the both of us. Because I still don’t get it…” I turned my head forward, my voice trailing off. We continued our journey home in comfortable silence, every now and then striking up pebble throwing contests. Sydney had a really nice smile. It was a shame she didn’t use it much. When we reached my street, our walk didn’t last much longer. “Here’s my stop.” I announced, stepping away towards the mailbox to retrieve our mail. Sydney nodded with a smile.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow-”

“Oh, hey, Syd!” Stan’s voice called out. We both turned our heads to see him getting up from his porch, making his way to the middle of the street to meet Syd. “And my lovely Zip.”

“Hey, beautiful.” I winked, pulling out a couple envelopes from the box. Stanley chuckled fondly at me before looking back to Syd, who was waiting expectantly.

“Oh, my leg fell asleep. One sec,” He then began shaking and stretching his leg, Sydney standing by awkwardly. The sight alone was enough to have me quietly laughing to myself. Stan let out a sigh once he was done and planted his foot back on the ground. “Can I walk with you?”

“Sure. Why not?” Syd shrugged. Stan smiled and turned forward with her.

“Cool.”

As they walked away, I noticed one of the envelopes was addressed to me. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically, I ripped it open. Inside was a lonely check. No note. Just like last time. And the time before that. Taking out the check, my eyes bulged at the number written down. Four hundred dollars?! Four hundred fucking dollars from Dad in two weeks! I tried to think of the upcoming dates. Was Aunt Pam’s birthday coming up? Uncle David’s? Jacob’s? No one’s. So… why did Dad send me twice as much this time? My head lifted to find Stanley happily dancing back up to his house, twirling and jumping with his bare feet. I laughed at the sight. As he descended the slope to his house, he motioned for me to follow. Setting the mail on the porch swing, I pocketed my check and hurried down to Stan’s.

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

“What about this one?” I held up Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road on vinyl. “I love me some Elton John.”

“Whatever you want, Nugget.” I heard him from the couch. Satisfied with my decision, I put the music on, nodding to the beat of Crocodile Rock as I joined Stanley on the couch. He had just taken out one of his pre-rolled joints from his case and was lighting it up.

“So…”

“So?”

“What’s up with you and Sydney Novak?” I cheekily grinned, my friend puffing on the smoke as he removed the joint from his mouth. “You wanted to… walk with her?”

“I wanted to hang out with her. We’ve never hung out before. I just thought she’d want more friends.”

“Uh-huh…” I raised a brow, taking the joint when it was offered to me. As I inhaled the smoke, Stan waved me off.

“Whatever. So… what’s been going on with you? It’s been about three weeks since you got back and you haven’t spoken a word about where you disappeared to.”

I quickly handed the joint back as I exhaled, the smoke clouding my vision. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna talk about that…”

“Oh.” Stan cleared his throat.

“Let’s just say it was… very depressing.”

“Well, what about your dad? How’s he been?”

“He’s good, I think. Working in Georgia still. Oh!” I lifted my hip a bit to retrieve the check from my back pocket. “Look at this fucking shit, Stan! My dad sends me a two hundred dollar check every two weeks. But look what I got this time.” Stan leaned over, squinting his eyes as if he weren’t seeing right.

“Four hundred?!”

“Four hundred!”

“Jesus, (Y/N), what does he do?!”

“In all honesty, Stan, I have no fucking idea. He doesn’t like talking about it.”

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all.” Stan mumbled, silencing himself by placing the joint between his lips. It didn’t take too long for our highs to kick in. When they did, we were draped over one another, lazily drawing shapes in the air. I reached over and tickled Stan’s foot, which was just beside my head. He quietly giggled and retracted his foot from me. I laughed loudly and dropped my arm.

“Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“This is where we peak, huh? This is, like, as good as it gets,” I watched as he lifted his head, attempting to make eye contact with me. “Like, we’re not gonna have shit going for us besides a lousy paycheck we slave for. And we’re gonna settle for someone who makes us all feel a little less lonely… or we just end up alone and blame everyone else for it. And then… In, like, ten years we’re gonna go to our high school reunion and then we’re gonna find out that… We all were pieces of shit at the age of seventeen and that’s as good as we got. It’s as good as we’ll ever get,” I pointed to him. “At least, that’s what you told me.”

“Nugget… you talk too much,” He flopped back onto the ground. “But yeah, you’re right. But, like… not you.”

“Not me?”

“No, you’re gonna… move away again. But for good. You’re gonna become the best… damn actress of our time and you’re gonna walk on red carpets and go on talk shows and go ‘Yeah, my best friend Stanley Barber was the best thing that’s ever happened to me’, and then-”

“That’s not how I talk!” I burst out laughing, which triggered his own laughter. We spent the next few moments rolling on the floor, trying to catch our breaths in the midst of our cackling. Even in my haze, I thought to myself, If this is where I peak, I’m the most successful of them all to peak with Stan. How could no one have wanted to hang out with him? He was the only thing that kept me sane most days with his carefree philosophy on life. There was never a dull moment with him. Never a single second of doubt in his ability to make me smile, to make me feel good about myself. And maybe it was selfish to depend on him that much, but I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing it.

When our highs almost completely wore off, I wished Stan a goodbye and headed back home. Entering the house, Jacob was just about to exit. “Oh, hey, Bug-” He stopped and sniffed. “You smell like weed.”

“You’ll live.” I smiled and walked inside. In the kitchen, Aunt Pam was making dinner while dancing to the music on the radio. Upon my arrival, she clapped and went to hug me.

“(Y/N), how was your-” She stepped back and sniffed. “Ugh, you smell like weed…”

“Sorry.”

“I honestly don’t care. But I wanted to tell you that you should call your dad. It’s been a couple of weeks with no call. Remember he said he’d check on you every other day?”

“I remember. I’ll call him right now.” Heading upstairs to my room, I pulled out my cell phone. I accessed my contacts before pressing on my dad’s, holding the phone up to my ear. When the call was answered, there was no greeting. Just faint breathing from the other end. “Uh… Dad-”

“Hey, sweetheart,” He rushed out, sounding out of breath. “What- What did you call for?”

“What did I… Dad, you said you’d call me three times a week. It’s been two weeks with no call.”

“You’re right, you’re right, doll.” He sighed. I frowned in disgust. He never called me ‘doll’. “How’s school going? Straight A’s?”

“Um… not really,” I mumbled as I entered my bedroom, setting my backpack on the ground before flopping on my bed, sighing contently. “A couple of B’s, but I’m trying. Uh, I got the check.”

“Yeah, yeah, your allowance.” He huffed.

“Uh-huh… but you gave me twice as much.”

“Yeah, for homecoming. Pam said it was next week.”

“Oh, yeah…,” I rolled onto my back. “Almost forgot.”

“Yeah, so just… buy yourself something pretty- Listen, sweetheart, I’ve gotta go, but I promise to call you in two days.”

“Okay, Dad. Love you-” I was cut off when he abruptly hung up the phone. Sighing, I let my arm flop down beside my head. If I had to be completely honest, that was normal behavior from my dad lately. Sure, I mentioned he wasn’t present in his mind, but this was different. He was clearly occupied. Very occupied. I brushed it off as him being hard at work, but…

Something told me there was more going on with my Dad. And it scared me.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @give-the-boy-a-hug @moatsnow

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #stan barber #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt x reader #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

Text

Of Ice and Blood

Part 5

Look who's back with a 5k+ word count chapter?! Me!

I was planning on posting 1k+ at a time but stuff happened and I'm posting it all at once!

Enjoy and I'd appreciate it dearly if you reblog! Thank you!

Edit: Reached the 250 block limit so... The inevitable decision had to be made! Part 5 has a total of 3.42k words! The rest will be in a separate post <3

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, brief mentions of blood and injury.

Overall SFW (but 16+ for language)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 Part 6

The walk back to the school building was quiet.

Or so I thought.

Because it wasn't. At all.

Whispers, mutterings, echoed from the rooms as we passed by.

Are they doing it on purpose, or is my hearing sharper than usual?

"Hey look it's that girl."

"You mean the freak who sat beside the orc—"

"First day of school and someone already got killed. Should've expected him to be a savage."

"You think she wears a mask to hide her identity? Maybe she's a criminal-"

Probably the latter.

I shrugged. There stood a decent amount of distance between us anyway. So it's likely my hearing.

Students were watching us with weird suspecting eyes from a distance behind the windows. Sensing apprehension and outward hate when they saw Tai'chi next to me, his face in a neutral expression. But with my nose at this proximity, he smells pretty annoyed.

Just— why are there so many people,— humans–garnering these feelings towards someone they don't even know! And to even mock him like that! How dare —

"Pearl," Tai'chi called. His rich voice resonating, making the gossips of the students stop for a brief moment before they continued. Most likely slandering my name now. I didn't know I was standing still. Looking up, Tai'chi was a decent 9 meters away, with the staff members further ahead of him. He gave me a wondering look, worry along with his natural fragrance, drifted through me, carried by air.

I straightened up and took long strides, Tai'chi beside me, to catch up with them.

"Yeah, just thinking. I'm okay." Replying, not looking up to him. He didn't ask, but I felt like he would.

************short pov shift************

He was a bit bothered by the change in your scent and looked back when he noticed you weren't beside him anymore. There you were, standing in the middle of the wide hallway, brows scrunched up in aggravation.

He called out to you, probably a little louder than he meant to, but you looked up and hastily made your way beside him, both of you catching up to the rest towards the dean's office. He didn't ask, but you answered, only making him worry even more.

**********first person pov**************

As soon as we entered the main office of the center building, we were greeted with the sight of the dean and David, together with Miss Holson. He was a white fat man, though a bit taller than me, wearing a light grey suit with a few buttons open revealing a white undershirt, and a silly yellow, violet polka dot tie. I barely held back from snorting at the sight.

Mr. Silverstone was fussing over his son, his voice raised in slight panic was heard by everyone.

They went ahead of us then.

"My son! My dear, dear David! Who did this to you?!" he cried out. Once David, that son of a bitch, spotted me, he flashed me that blasted grin of his. He was acting, pretending to be hurt.

I hardly even left a scratch on him for fuck's sake. How I regret not punching him straight in the face.

Reverting to his fake, frightened, and miserable state, he pointed at me. "I-I-It's her father! She is the one who attacked me! Along with that thing with her."

Thing?! That sick bastard!

The dean whipped his head in my direction, eyes scanning me up and down before he diverted them to Tai'chi.

Well, it seems I'll ve packing up sooner than I thought.

My shoulders sagged.

Some professors were alarmed by this, frantically pushing forward to grab his attention.

"Mr. Silverstone, we still do not know what's for certain. We must interrogate them properly and listen to each of their sides before we make a decision." Mr. Dulrik asserted, his voice strained and close to animosity. He was not pleased with what the student had said.

The elder professor from earlier followed up.

"Listen to Mr. Dulrik, sir. We cannot take any risks and ju—"

"Silence!" the dean shouted. "I will not hear your reasoning. My son has told me everything I need to know. Miss Holson supported his claims and that's enough to decide what to do with these criminals."

Criminals?!

"The girl and that orc shall be expelled from this institution immediately. We do not need any murderers or barbarians here. I have always suspected why that Ernestine brat even allowed these monstrosities to be with us. To breathe the same air and walk the same land as we do, endangering our safety no less! A pathetic excuse of a founder she is! If it were me I would've—"

"You would've what?" Words came out before I stopped myself, my voice low, but it was heard still, drawing their attention to me.

"What did you just say?" He demanded, his anger slipping out more. The room was silent, except for the subtle ticking of the wall clock behind me, and the movement of air around us.

I lifted my head and looked at him dead in the eye. "You would've what?" This time, I replied, louder.

Before he could retort I went on, emotion fueling my words as I advanced with every question asked.

"Would've banned every single, non-human race from the university?

"Would've taught every human that they are greater beings and the ones that were different were meant to be stepped on?

"Would've ordered and tolerated bullying on anyone who was unnatural and weird looking?

"Would've put them in their place?

Isolate them? Degrade them? Despise them for being alive?" No-one stopped me as I approached him, the teachers separating and making way. Even Mr. Dulrik was regarding me curiously.

I scoffed. " 'If it were me' you said. You think I wouldn't notice how everyone else, that isn't human, was oppressed and treated like shit in this school? It seems to me that you already did what you would've done, didn't you? You are no dean, you are a clown, a pillock, a dumbass, and you call yourself human? You are more monster than any of us in this room."

I breathed heavily as I stood a couple of feet in front of him. His face grew to a crimson hue, my ears catching the sound of smoke seething out of him. At the back, David and Miss Holson were dumbfounded, shocked into place, shaken like ugly statues.

Finally, the dean spoke, his fists clenching hard as he faced me, almost drawing blood.

I am so gonna beat him up. Hell yeah, I will.

"Keep out of trouble if you can." Well, shit happened Mama, forgive me.

"How dare you speak to me like that! I, a pure-blood Silverstone, a line of royalty! If we were still at war I would've had you executed from where you stand—"

"How about you do it yourself then, oh mighty Silverstone jerk?" I mocked and gave a toothy smile, then I remembered he wouldn't see it. That was all it took to have him launching himself at me, the professors running to the sides to avoid his wrath.

His hands were balled tight, a fist aiming for my face, eyes filled with deadly intent.

Oh, he really wants to kill me.

Before it connected, I sidestepped, causing him to stumble forward. Even so, he immediately regained his balance and reached to grab my hoodie. I didn't dodge this time, but before he touched me, I used my right hand to slap it away. With my other hand, fitted with my crimson knuckle dusters, I met his fist with mine. Almost instantly, he stumbled back and crouched down, his left hand holding his bloodied one.

"You bitch!!!" he screamed in agony.

I think I broke his hand.

I glanced to my brass knuckles, some of the blood covering them, merely visible because of its color.

Shattered it perhaps.

"I will have you killed you insolent brat! I'll kill you!" he cursed.

"Now, now, Silverstone, you will do no such thing." A feminine voice cut through the large room. We all turned to the door to see a slim, tall, tanned woman who seemed to be in her 40s, her slightly wrinkled face showing it. She was wearing a black high-waist pencil skirt paired with a black one-button suit and a baby blue undershirt. The lady also wore classic white loafers and white hand gloves made of leather, with her ebony hair tied up in a bun.

Everything about her screams 'important'. I scented an intimidating yet reassuring aura around her.

I met her eyes and a sense of familiarity fell upon me. I know her and I've seen her before.

Wait. Could it be— she's—

"Madame Ernestine!" A professor exclaimed.

That means she's, "The founder," I said out loud.

She began sauntering in my direction, each step clicking on the floor, carrying herself with grace.

"M-Ma-Madame Ernestine!" The dean, shrieked as he stood up, shaking, his busted hand in his chest, his back facing me. "I didn't expect you to visit this year! We could've prepared for your arrival—"

"You shut your mouth now Welmir." She spoke out, her voice firm and borderline hostile. "I've had enough of your blabbering mug. I made it so that my arrival is unexpected. Leaving my outside duties rather early and rushed this year when news got to me that you, the dean, were neglecting your duties, or so, doing it wrong. Not to mention I had my assistant install extra cameras in... certain places last year and because of that, I saw what you did in the shadows. Maybe not all, but it confirmed my suspicions of you, and so," She clapped her together, "I decided to visit you today. And what a surprise it was to see you get beaten up by this lovely young lady behind you."

Me?! Lovely—

My face warmed from her comment.

"Listen here, brat." he regarded the founder. The founder. "I do not know what you are talking about. I have done my duties and more for this university. I made it so that everyone here is safe and this girl,"— he spat— "harmed me, my precious son, and his friends!"

"And all of you deserved it, severely," she responded flatly. "You put my dear students at risk and antagonized them with your schemes, tolerating the behavior of treating other races like animals, disrespecting even the professors who are different in kind," she glanced at Mr. Dulrik and the others. "You even forced a minotaur, an elf, and a dwarven student to act the part of being in a student council, hoping people wouldn't notice the crimes you did behind our backs. Did you expect me to turn blind eye to this?"

It was all pretend?!

The mere thought of what he did to threaten them to it makes me wanna puke.

"I am furious, Welmir Silverstone. To think I believed you'd change your ways after my father's death with the renovation of the institute. Trusted you to do your job as dean and make the students comfortable, welcomed. But, no. You chose to follow his footsteps, became selfish, blinded by greed and pointless hate. You are a disappointment to all of us."

I smelled her rage under that near non-expressive facade of hers. It was spicy, like fire having an odor of its own.

"You are but a child! You know nothing of this world! This world of ours needs to be purged off of those rats. You cannot tell me what to do!" He yelled as he brought up his uninjured hand to hit her. I was about to step in when Madame Ernestine grabbed his arm and threw a right uppercut, blood spilling out of his jaw. The punch sent him a few steps back, he would have landed on me if I didn't move out of the way before he collapsed on the floor groaning and holding his mouth.

Ooh she's strong! Nice! I grinned.

"You are hereby stripped off of your job as dean along with all of your titles, properties, and henceforth banished from these grounds, together with your son and Emma Holson, whom I found out laid with him, and the abusive acts they had engaged in." Her words laced with poison, disgust and anger as she gave the final judgement.

"Never show yourselves. Ever. Again," she spat. "Take them away."

Out of nowhere, men in black suits came in and apprehended the young instructor, who twisted her heel trying to escape. She yelled at them to let her go, saying she has done nothing wrong. David, the bastard, was held in place by one of them as he struggled in their grasp. The dean— or should I say, Mr. Silverstone, in pain and bleeding, was dragged up by two others and headed straight out of the door. He shouted ;

"Mark my words, brat! I will—"

And the door slammed close.

With my gaze following them, my eyes landed on Tai'chi. I took off my dusters and waved, tucking them back up my sleeve.

He is smiling! And oh wow he's damn gorgeous— wait what?

My attention was drawn away to the lady in front of me. I got distracted by Tai'chi that I almost forgot about her.

"Oh my God I uhm— hello Madame Ernestine." I took one step back before bowing. "It's an honor to meet you. I—"

"Oh dear, please raise your head. No need for such formal gestures. I am Valerie Ernestine, founder of the new Ernestine State University." She stated as she beamed at me.

"I uh- Yes ma'am I know of you. I'm quite a fan actually— I mean! My name is Pearl Blackbell, ma'am."

Oh God, that sounded so stupid.

Then she hugged me.

"Ma'am?!" I squeaked. My arms went stiff, nervous to even touch her. Before I could, she pulled back, a gentle expression on her face.

"Nice to meet you, Pearl Blackbell."

"I- nice to meet you too Ma'am Ernestine!" I stammered, praying my face and ears isn't as red as I feel them to be.

"Please, call me Valerie."

"Ma'am Valerie."

"Just Valerie, dear."

"I'm so sorry ma'am but I can't— my mother will hit me in the head with a frying pan if I forget my manners."

"Very well, then. It brings me joy that you were raised properly by your parents."

"Thank you ma'am, I really am happy to have them, and I only hope for them to be proud of me— oh wait. Uh, ma'am Valerie?"

"Yes?"

"Am I gonna get punished or expelled?" I shrunk, expecting the worst.

"Why ever did you think of that?"

"W-Well you see, I did harm uh, students and they're probably in the infirmary right now and—"

"Oh, Pearl, no." She let out a light chuckle. "You won't be punished or even expelled for that! In fact, I saw how you defended yourself and your friend from them. They did attack you first, sweetie. And what you did was impressive!" She clapped her hands. As I stood there in relief, I couldn't help but shot up when the words sank in.

"Oh, thank you. But how...?"

"Apparently, I had my assistant install some cameras in the forest area for particular reasons. I watched you from the monitor as I made my way here," she replied.

"Oh. Oh, wow. That's actually pretty awesome," I sighed.

"Indeed, it is," she smiled. "Excuse me for a bit."

******pov shift to 2nd person (two characters)*****

Madame Ernestine turned and walked towards the remaining teachers to talk about important matters at hand.

"Greetings, my friends." She beamed at the staff and looked at Professor Dulrik and the woman who supported him earlier. "Hello, Roldo and Amila. I have missed you dearly." She bent down to hug the two of them before she went on. "I apologize for not taking action immediately. To think he did this to all of you right under my nose! Why didn't you contact me Roldo?"

"My apologies, Madame Ernestine. I didn't have any proof to show his plot against you and the others. He was very elusive and kept us very busy in our own offices for the past year with you away. That was until today, with the young lady over there standing up against his son, he snapped."

"It really is a good thing she came here, didn't she?" she whispered.

"Indeed, Madame," Amila replied.

There was a brief silence, before Valerie spoke up again. Her gaze locked at the dwarven professor.

"Roldo, my old friend, I want you to take your place as the new dean of this university. I trust you to do your duty a hundred percent better than that impudent man ever did. Will you accept this responsibility?"

"I- Valerie this is-"

"Roldo, you are wise and have seen things most of us here have not. I will not force you on something you do not want, but I put my faith in you, to help me, along with the rest of the staff, to teach everyone here that all of us stand in equal ground, and that we must respect and acknowledge each individual, regardless of their kind. No one, no student, should ever feel uncomfortable in this haven of mine."

"I understand, Valerie." The dwarf took a deep breath and vowed;

"I, Roldo Dulrik, son of Grol II, son of Frerin, accept the responsibilities given to me as dean of Ernestine State University. I will do my duty to the best of my abilities, and remain loyal to you and to this institution." He responded as he thumped his right fist against his chest.

"I know you will, my friend." Valerie grinned at him, her eyes full of trust and hope.

While they were occupied with discussing certain issues, you tried to sneak away, only to be called back by Madame Ernestine.

"Pearl, my dear."

"Yes ma'am?"

"Thank you."

She had a soft smile, emotions clear on her face, directed at you. The founder, Valerie was thanking you for your bravery, kindness and overall honesty. You simply nodded and grinned from ear to ear behind your mask. You were, however, suddenly nervous when Valerie and the two professors approached you. No, actually, all of them were, but the others are heading out of the office, perhaps to go back to their respective classrooms and start working, they gave their thanks as they went out.

"Pearl Blackbell, a wonderful name!" Professor Dulrik remarked. "May the Gods bless you and shine upon you in all your days," he grinned. Before you could reply, Professor Amila hugged you and whispered. "Thank you, for beating up those idiots," —which made you giggle— "It was the right thing to do, and also I had to defend myself. and thank you, Professor Dulrik."

"Nonsense, call me Professor Roldo, lass." He patted your shoulder as he went past you and out of the office, but not before he slapped Tai'chi's forearm.

"You best protect her if you can, lad. Even so, it is obvious she won't need protecting!" He laughed, and went on, quietly, as if whispering. "...Be her friend, my boy. Her eyes...they show the pain she had gone through. You saw that in her, didn't you?"

Tai'chi simply nodded in response. He knew what he meant.

"Then do what you must. If word ever comes to me that you hurt her, I will hunt you down with me battle axe hidden in my office, you hear?"

This time, he chuckled. "I hear you, Professor. I won't. I swear on the the name of my clan, no harm will befall on her." He told him, his voice firm and true.

"That's what I'm talking about, lad!" He replied as he finally exited the room.

Tai'chi shifted his gaze to you. You and the dean were still talking so he stood there, patiently.

"We best be on our way. We still have a number of things to set straight. We will see you around, Miss Blackbell. Don't get into trouble now." The founder giggled.

"I will try my best, ma'am."

"Oh sure you will, sweetie. Goodluck. And oh, the two of you should start going back. It's past lunchbreak afterall." She said as the two ladies sauntered past you and went out.

"Thank you, we will." You said, mostly to yourself.

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

Part 6 will be posted shortly! Like, shortly shortly. Like, an hour or so shortly. Stay tuned! Thank you for reaching this point uwu✨

Tags: @crackinanutshell @kokokatsworld @mitchiesdungeon <3

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modernpace · 3 years

Text

Loki x Reader chapter 7

A/N: Hello everyone. I wanna just say thank you for being patient with me, though I know you're probably frustrated with my delay... I was dealing with [trigger warning...skip to next paragraph] serious mental health issues to the point where I was suicidal. I needed some personal time to focus on my mental health, as well as my declining grades.

Safe to say I'm doing much better now. The semester is over so I can focus on writing and my job. Thank you all for your reads. Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 7:

Feeling like your presence wasn't necessary, you depart from Thor, Odin, and Jane. Odin wasn't too pleased having another mortal in Asgard and you weren't waiting to be chewed out just yet. You brushed your hand against the stone wall as you walked down the hall toward the dungeons. You round the corner and see one of the guards. Giving a small smile to him you walk past and head toward Loki's cell.

He was reclined on his bed, tossing something into the air and catching it. You feel a pang of guilt as you get closer. You never were able to ask Odin about Loki's release, but now definitely wasn't the time...not with whatever is going on with Jane. Once you reach the glass you cross your arms. He's not even trying to pretend like he's preoccupied. He's just outright ignoring you.

"If you wanted to ignore me, you could've just pretended you were reading," you sighed out.

His head tilted a bit, so he was just barely looking at you, "If I did that you'd still try to stay." He turns away and continues tossing and catching the object.

Sighing, you sit with your back facing him, "I'm really trying to be impartial with you, you know. I really am." You run a hand through your hair and shake your head. "Hell, despite all the bullshit you did to my home I'm trying to help. For Thor. For your mother."

You look up at the high ceiling and continue, "All I'm asking for is a little give. A temporary truce. I know you don't like me. And I don't necessarily like you either. But can we just put the hostility aside? Do you really want to lose the one opportunity you have to change this life sentence? To prove everyone around you wrong? That you're not pure evil? Don't you want to show your fath—Odin wrong?"

You waited but didn't expect a response. And you didn't get one, either.

"Tch, forget it," you scrunched your brows and shook your head. "I have things to take care of. We have a guest and she could use some company like her." You turn to leave when a loud banging and screaming erupt from a cell down the corridor.

The lights flicker and you round the corner to get a better idea of what's going on. Your eyes go wide as you see a huge monster banging on the cell's floor. His body was like a hot coal, and the cell began to fill up with black smoke. His cellmates fall to the ground as he beats one of them. He let out a loud roar and you felt yourself go still. Guards ran past you toward the cell, but their commands are drowned out by the creature's roars.

Run

You tried to move but your feet felt like cinder blocks. 'I can't.'

"Y/n."

Your head snapped toward the voice. Loki stood at the edge of his cell. His eyes were fierce, but his face remained indifferent. "Cast a glamour." You continued to stare at him. It felt as if you were out of your body, no longer in control, no longer aware.

"Go." He said sternly.

Your legs instantly began moving on their own, and you felt your hands begin to twitch. Loki watched as you slowly became camouflaged. Your legs picked up their pace and you began running. To where? You didn't know.

Loki said to run, so you did.

Your legs ached as you continued to push yourself. You could feel your abilities dwindle, you were so exhausted. Keep pushing. Your glamour fell and people around you yelped at your sudden appearance.

You could see Thor in the distance talking with Jane and Frigga. Just a bit more.

Your lips moved, but no sound came out.

What are you doing? Scream, Y/n! You have to warn them! You have t—

"DUNGEON! THOR!" Thor's head snapped in your direction. His smile fell as he saw your fear-ridden face. He said something to his mother and Jane, but you were still ways away. Without another second to waste, he flung Mjolnir in the direction of the dungeons.

Frigga and Jane rushed to meet you halfway. You slowed down and felt your legs go limp. You stumbled a bit but one of Frigga's guards caught you. "Are you okay?" You looked up to meet Jane's gaze. Her forehead creased and her eyes were wide.

You nodded, "There's a bigger problem right now." You gasped for air. Steve and Nat's runs didn't seem to be helping you right about now. "I have a bad feeling..." You look to Frigga, "We need to get somewhere safe." Without hesitation, Frigga nodded and ordered her guards to follow suit.

You paced in the room and Jane watched you, her face etched with worry. You were anxious, you had seen what that thing did to his cellmates. What if—

"Y/n, dear, please try to remain calm." You stopped pacing and closed your eyes. Frigga was right. You were trained for this. You need to get your shit in check or else you'll be the reason for our deaths, you thought.

You took a few deep breaths and began thinking of your happy place: the warm sun on your skin, the leaves swaying in the whistling wind, the cool, soft grass, his emerald eyes.

Your eyes shoot open. His emerald eyes? You shake your head and force a shiver, now is not the time. You turn back to Frigga, "I think I can do it. I feel a bit stronger than before." She nods.

Shouting and the clattering of swords rang outside of the room. You cast your glamour just as everything fell silent. You quietly led Jane into a hidden corner, out of sight in case your glamour fell again. Frigga stood and cast an illusion of Jane.

The doors were pushed open and in walked a pale man with dark armor and a haunting presence. You felt yourself shiver.

"Stand down, creature." Frigga slowly walked toward him, cutlass in hand, "You may still survive this."

He casually walked toward her as well, "I have survived worse, woman."

"Who are you," she asked calmly as they stood before each other.

"I am Malekith, and I would have what is mine."

Frigga cast a glance at Illusion-Jane. Malekith took a step in the direction that Illusion-Jane ran toward. In an instant, she swung her cutlass and struck Malekith in his face. He drew his sword and they began fighting. Your mouth fell open a bit. You knew Frigga was one hell of a woman, but you didn't know she was a fighter, let alone a skilled swordswoman.

Malekith stumbled back as Frigga knocked his sword away from him. She spun and wielded the sword fiercely. She finally had the upper hand as she pushed him against the wall, with her cutlass to his throat.

Strong footsteps divert your attention and you see the monster from the dungeon now inches away from Frigga. He wrapped his arms around her neck and lifted her. You felt a slight tug toward them. Your foot stepped forward. Don't. Your job is to keep Jane out of harm's way.

'But, Frigga needs help' you argued to yourself. Stay put.

Giving into yourself you stepped back and shielded Jane from the scene. Frigga was restrained by the creature. Malekith walked toward Illusion-Jane and reached out to her. His hand went through her and she disappeared.

"Witch!" he shouted as he marched toward her. "Where is the Aether?"

A smug smile graced the Queen's face, "I'll never tell."

"I believe you."

The creature swiftly stabbed her, forcing her own cutlass through her back. You quickly covered your mouth to stop any noise from escaping. Someone cried out from the other room, but before you could look in their direction, bright white lightning shot toward Malekith and struck him in the face. The creature lifted him and made a run toward the balcony. Thor threw Mjolnir toward them, but it only hit its shoulder as they jumped. They disappeared into the clouds, but a small ship flew where they just jumped. With Mjolnir back in his hand, Thor threw it toward the ship... but it was too late. They were already gone.

Odin slowly made his way into the room, and you let your glamour fall. He approached his wife's corpse and fell to his knees, gently caressing her.

A faint cold tingly feeling enveloped your hands, and slowly washed through your body. Jane gently brushed past you and stood in front of you, giving you time to gain your own composure. Your eyes flicked to Thor, and he only met your gaze for a moment.

He had a strange look in his eyes. Something you hadn't seen in him ever before. Your stomach did a somersault and you could feel nausea arising. You needed to get out of there.

You turned and cast another glamour on yourself, not wanting to be seen. You ran from the room and didn't stop running until you found a small, dark, quiet corner. Quiet sobs escaped you as your glamour instantly fell.

'I could've stopped them. I could've helped.' you thought. 'Coward,' you mentally scolded yourself. You sobbed louder as you replayed her death. You shivered as the cold tingly sensation grew inside you.

Remember this feeling. Hold it. Never forget it.

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curiousconch · 3 years

Text

No Clear Skies Ahead

Chapter 1 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU). Read the prologue here.

Chapter Synopsis: An investigation is launched after a threat was sent to the DA's office. In an attempt to protect Heather, Rafael zooms in on the case but stumbles upon an inner struggle which leads to dire consequences.

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 3k+ | Genre: Crime, Mystery, Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / sex, mental health issues

Author’s Notes: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song. There are also small references to canon, so spoiler alert for those who haven’t played OH 2 yet. This specific chapter was inspired by Bruno Mars' It Will Rain (Live version - X Factor).

Rafael dropped his bag on the apartment floor, an exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he waded his way to the kitchen.

On a normal day, Rafael wouldn't be this ill-tempered. But today wasn't normal, normalcy went out the window since they received that threat.

Two weeks has passed since, and both of their lives are imploding. He shook his head as he recalled their conversation that night, while trying to have a peaceful dinner for once.

"I need to go, Raf. This is groundbreaking cancer research that may help some of our patients," she explained while she unwrapped her bibimbap.

"How long will you be at Johns Hopkins then?" he asked, while he himself took a bite from his beef patties.

"The initial plan would be at least a week. I'll fly out to Maryland on Monday, so I won't be back until Saturday morning. We want to be able to lend a hand to the planning of the clinical trials. Edenbrook wants to participate," her voice sounded excited.

"I don't think it's a great idea right now, Heather," he shook his head gently, a genuine look of concern in his face.

Heather wasn't entirely enthused by his response.

"What, I can't live my life now because of that stupid note?" she said in a vicious tone. "If I let this thing hang over my head for the rest of my life, there's no use of all of this fuss."

"I'm just trying to look out for you, Heath," he replied, not wanting to spend this rare quality time arguing.

She got awfully quiet, as she averted her gaze. She was stubborn, but her behavior told him she was on edge.

Resigned, he just nodded and expressed his agreement. He reminded her to come back as soon as possible, and made plans to pick her up at the airport.

He spent the rest of the night sucking up his frustration. They individually came up with an excuse and parted early, even the idea of sex was off the table.

He grabbed a beer from his fridge and padded his way to the living room, switching on the TV to watch some late night news.

A special report was playing, covering much of the recent developments in the case. It briefly mentioned Heather, making him frown.

They only knew a few things about the note, including the fact that it was emailed directly to Bryce Lahela, the same prosecutor who executed Travis Perry in court. He suspected that It was meant to hit two birds in one stone - to threaten the DA and the doctor who reported the ruse. The mastermind is informed who was involved.

The IT team were able to trace where the email was sent - it was from a terminal in a nearby public library. This was expected, and Rafael wasn't wrong to ignore his gut that told him this was just the start.

A week after, a second note came. This time, faxed to Senator Ed Farrugia's office. But unlike the first message, it was wordless.

Instead, it contained two images - two shots of the politician meeting with associates at a nearby hotel. The office of the senator confirmed it to be taken the same day the fax was sent.

The whole Boston field office was on full gear, with the Senate presurring the agency to reopen the case. The stakes were slowly becoming higher.

This wasn't a childish prank, he concluded. It's the beginning of a well-planned attack.

He waited for another move from the faceless sender. His training told him that this is going to be a slow burn. If the perpetrator waited months to put this into action, they wouldn't hesitate to wait for the perfect time. Raf's whole team were still clueless to the most important matter at hand - the when and the how.

He wished hard for it to be nothing but empty threats, but he knew better. He struggled to stop himself from taking this too personally, convincing himself that he had a job to do. But he can't help himself. So he spent the past two weeks leaving no stone unturned.

Meanwhile, Heather drowned herself with work.

Rafael knew it was an effort of her taking control. In the few months that they were dating, he learned how she had to hide anything that was wrong. She was a doctor, and she was required to smile at her patients every single day. That's also how she coped - pretending that there's nothing wrong and pushing everyone away.

His own attempts to comfort her proved futile as most of his time was also occupied by the investigation.

It's not over, Dr. Song. Every single word in that short sentence cast a long shadow over his every move, beckoning a hidden resentment he never knew existed.

The rising anxiety within him got amplified as their shifts ended in irregular hours. For two weeks, they barely saw each other. He would call her at the end of his day, but he felt that she involuntarily withdrew from him more over time. He knew it was her defense, Rafael himself a stark reminder of the threat that just overturned her life.

Her shielded independence irked him greatly. He wanted her to rely on him, now, more than ever. He wanted to share this with her, and his concerns only grew every single day.

He never thought that there would ever be a distance between them. He hated the thought of Heather wanting to tend to herself.

Did she not trust him enough? Didn't she want to rely on him? Can't she just lean on him, especially during this time? What else is this relationship for then?

He knew she grew up independently, she was forced to rely on no one but herself for most of her teenage and adult years. She was strong and not fragile. But he desired so much to protect her, to save her, just like the same way he did the year before. But he knew she wasn't that kind of girl.

And when Heather shut him down another time tonight, he felt cornered. She'll be out, indefinitely. Will she even miss me? His head hurt just thinking about it. He had a hard time sleeping that night, feeling an emptiness he didn't feel ever since he met her.

It wasn't long when the void that he felt over her abrupt absence got filled by someone else.

The week Heather flew to Johns Hopkins, a childhood friend came back to Boston. An ex, in fact. Sora, his high school sweetheart. It all began with a seemingly innocent chat, an invitation to catch up.

But it soon escalated to him being more involved with her, volunteering his spare time to help her reacquainted to their neighborhood. With Heather dismissing him in every turn, he diverted his energies to spending time with Sora. For a few days, he didn't know why he kept her company, but as time went on, he understood.

It was Sora's consistent need of him, asking small favors from him every chance she gets. It was the total opposite of what Heather was doing.

She was familiar with Rafael, so she it was easy for her to feed his uncontrollable need to be someone's savior. Superman needed his own fix.

It's partially the reason why he ended up being an FBI agent himself. It was his innate need to save someone from practically anything. He lived and breathed to be someone's hero.

With no desire to spend another night at Donahues, he asked his high school friends to come over to his place on Friday after work for some movies and beer, a mini reunion, for Sora. He persuaded himself that it was nothing else but an effort to help a friend out.

That night became full of nostalgia, as friends who showed up exchanged stories of their adventures from their childhood and teenage years. Over the next few hours, their friends left one by one, eventually leaving him and Sora alone. They each had a few more beers than they usually drank, and their chat unsurprisingly catapulted towards the end of their high school love affair. They talked about what attracted them to one another, eventually venturing to the regrets Sora had when they broke up.

"I think I never got over you, you know," Sora casually teased him, chugging down another bottle of beer. "Our breakup felt forced, and I hadn't been able to feel the same way with someone else..." her voice trailed off, her hand gently hovering over his thigh.

He didn't push her away. Although he wanted to, but he melted in the attention she was giving him.

He just nodded in reply, drinking from his own bottle, his mind racing, his heart beating uncontrollably in his chest. He knew he had to stop this, but he lacked the willpower to do so.

With Rafael's pent up frustrations and Sora's voluntary prodding, they ended up kissing. Their hands roaming each other as they tried to rediscover their past, their clothes carelessly discarded one after another on his living room. Rafael's head screamed opposition, but his body cannot resist the contact. Shutting down the shouting disagreement in his mind, he let his hands take over him.

He let his hands roam, feeling electrified by someone familiar, who knew his flaws, his body. He sensed that Sora felt exactly the same. In the heat of their bodies, they didn't hear the keys jingling and a door creaking open.

A sound of glass breaking made them look up.

"What the hell?"

There, standing in his dim entryway, was a flushed faced Heather. She held a suitcase, staring daggers at him and Sora as they were sprawled half-naked on the living room couch.

Shit.

Sora followed his gaze, and a mortified look of shame filled her eyes. Heather instantly fled, slamming the door closed behind her. Rafael rose from the couch, cursing under his breathe as he retrieved his clothes and covered his body.

He shot Sora a look of apology, and she understood. Grabbing his jacket and his keys, he followed Heather, running like he was being chased by death. A bitter taste formed at the back of his tongue as his mind raced with the number of possibilities how this night would end. He shook himself out of his thoughts, surprised as rain fell over him the moment he stepped out his apartment building. November is Boston's wettest month.

Despite the lack of visibility, his eyes shot in different directions, trying to find a trace of Heather. He saw her black suitcase just as it disappeared in the nearest street corner.

His shoes dug heavily on the wet sidewalk as he followed her sprinting shadow for two full blocks. He called out to her, unfazed by the fact that the pouring rain could mute him.

At last Heather stopped. He saw as the lights of the stream of traffic shining at her small figure.

He called her once more. But panic instantly filled him as he saw her advance the street in front of a fast-approaching car.

He rushed towards her, pulling her back in time.

"What the hell, Heather?" he looked down at her with fury and concern. He was surprised with her strength as she pushed him back, freeing herself from his grip.

"I asked you first," she gave him an accusing look, poison in her words. He instantly remembered why he chased her.

His stance immediately got defensive. Without thinking, he dragged Heather, ignoring her protests. He found an alley with some sort of roof, saving them from the downpour momentarily.

"Meu amor," his raspy voice breaking as he struggled to make Heather look at him. He reached out to her, touching her shoulders. Her face filled with pain crushed his soul.

"I don't have any words except I'm sorry." His whole body shook, his strong arms wrapping around her as he began to sob. "Heather, I... I made a mistake. I was weak," his hands gently cupped her face, his voice lowering to nothing but a faint whisper. "I just missed you so much, but I swear, I didn't mean for this to happen."

Rafael felt stupid at the lame excuse he could muster, knowing full well how horribly he fucked up.

Being soaked through the bones did not numb the pain he was feeling. Her silence became more unbearable by the minute. He attempted to kiss her, but failed the moment she avoided it.

"If you wanted to give up, you didn't have to pretend." she hissed, with tear-stained cheeks and a gaze haunting back at him, speaking volumes. "If you didn't want me around anymore, you should have just told me." he saw her bite her lip, her voice filled with contempt.

His chest constricted, realizing the damage he had done. "I want you, I still want you. I want no one else but you," he pleaded, wishing that there was a way to reverse what he had done. "Forgive me, meu amor, give me the chance to make this right, please," his voice shook as he begged her, his lungs about to give out, heavy of guilt.

Her silence stung more than any word. Her rigid body, motionless against his shivering chest. When he couldn't take her refusal to speak anymore, he took one last attempt to pound down the walls she was beginning to build. Fueled by nothing but desperation, he took her hands in his and knelt in front of her, waiting eagerly for an answer.

But as he gazed up at her, the small glimmer of hope in him dissipated. The eyes that once shined like the whole universe was in it, turned empty, dark and desolate.

She retrieved her hands from his grip, Rafael's face twisted in horror as he felt her slip away. He knew right then that he just lost her. "I can't, Rafael. I just can't right now."

In those few words, his world tumbled over. He watched her turn around and walk away, helpless. Once that he can no longer see any trace of her, his knuckles pounded the ground until it bled.

The rain outside crept its way inside him. It will be a long time before it stopped.

#open heart #open heart 2 #open heart fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #choices fanfiction #rafael aveiro #rafael aveiro x mc #rafael x mc

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imaginesmai · 4 years

Text

Peter Parker - See the light (2)

Second part is here! Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Small sneak peek

First part

Plot: it was a strange request, for sure. But he needed the crown back, and to get out of the bonds; and just, maybe, he couldn’t say no to the excited face you were giving him.

Peter woke up to the feeling of something pinching his cheek, and consciousness crashed into him like a wave. First feeling, and the light. He groaned and rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, a desperate attempt to rid his skin of the itchy thin being poked into his face. The light was still bright and blinding, and there was an ache in the back of his head.

Confused and slightly scared, he let his eyes adjust to the light and drifted them to the left, stopping a goddamned chameleon on his shoulder. Peter screamed in surprise, too high pitched and moving desperately. The chameleon kept looking at him for a few seconds, just watching as the boy almost fainted again with its sight.

Peter moved his wrists and ankles against their restrains, and noticed that he was bound to a chair, no previous memory of sitting there. Once the screaming was over, the chameleon walked away slowly and he could sigh in peace.

Just then, he realized he wasn’t tied down with rope, but hair. Blinking confused, he wiggled.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you”

Peter’s head whipped up at the new voice, and standing about fifteen feet above the floor, was the silhouette of a person on a wooden beam. The hair that he was wrapped up in seemed to come from them, and Peter squinted his eyes trying to focus on the figure.

“What?” he asked.

“Trying to break free is pointless”

“Free of what? Of hair?” Peter chuckled, although it was a nervous laugh. His palms were sweating.

You swung down to the ground and stepped out of the shadows, pan still in your hand and brow furrowed in cautiousness. Peter let his mouth hang open, because he had imagined some freaky old woman that had the complex of a witch, or a creepy man that wanted to sell his limbs. He didn’t expect a young girl, beautiful and healthy, that could steal his breath.

Instant blush rose to his cheek, and the old Peter, the one who wasn’t a thief but a shy boy, took over. He instantly felt like stuttering, babbling incoherent things and blush; but he knew better.

“I’m not scared of you” you said, voice small.

“You sure about that?” Peter attempted to seem cocky, and thankfully you didn’t notice the fake confidence.

“I know why you’re here” you waved the pan closer, almost hitting Peter’s nose. He launched his head back, the chair moving with him. “How did you find this place, and who are you?”

Peter kept his eyes on the pan and on you, not wanting to be left unconscious again.

“I don’t even remember how I found this place. I had no idea you were even here”

“Who are you?” you had a scowl on your face, but Peter didn’t find it scary; more like adorable.

“My friends call me Parker”

“Okay, Parker, who else knows my location?” you asked, round the chair. Peter didn’t like the change of scenery, as he couldn’t keep a constant eye on the pan.

“What? L-Location? No one, unless you count a snarky horse, I think” Peter shook his head, thinking about the horse that had followed him until he found the secret entrance of the tower. “Oh god, I hope that horse doesn’t know where I am”

“A-a horse?” you squinted your eyes.

“Alright, darling –“

“Y/N”

“Whatever. If you could be so kind and unwrap me from… your homemade restrictions, I will take my satchel and then get out of your hair – I was dying to say-“ Peter’s eyes widened suddenly. “Where is my satchel?”

Feeling like you had won something important, you smirked and crossed your arms, almost hitting yourself with the pan.

“I’ve hidden it. Don’t worry about finding it, because it’s not going anywhere anytime soon”

Peter kept quiet, and looked around the tower. The walls were full of paintings, and some of them were awfully accurate; draws of the nature, the sky, see and things he didn’t know what were, but they were beautiful. His chest hurt when he thought about his aunt May awful drawings, so he kept looking.

There were books, a bed literally hanging from the ceiling and a small comfy kitchen. He looked at you for a second, and you had a sour expression on your face, as if you were waiting for him to reveal his darkest secret.

So he did.

“It is under the bed, isn’t it?”

The pan hit his chin faster than he could notice.

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Next time Peter woke up, he was asked the same questions. If he wanted to sell your hair, to who he wanted to sell it, where would he take you, who sent him; and all of that under the hard glance of the chameleon on his shoulder, that made him try to strain his neck as far as possible.

It appeared that you had hid the crown somewhere else, because he had been right, and then you were more determinated to find the truth. After a long and hard interrogation, you managed to believe him.

“He could be telling the truth” you muttered, arms crossed and scratching your chin. Pascal rolled its eyes. “I know, I know but… he could take me. If mother isn’t going to…”

Pascal seemed to catch on what you were saying, and even Peter didn’t know something like that was possible, the chameleon nodded excitedly. You looked back to Peter, caution filtering through your wide eyes.

“Do you know what tomorrow is?” you asked, eyebrows threading together.

“Hm, august 10th?”

“You have been outside this walls, correct?”

Peter chuckled nervously. His neck was starting to hurt, his wrist were raw and he was getting cramps on his legs. If that was some kind of twisted consequence of stealing the crown, he was willing to take that back. He adverted his eyes away from your inquisitive ones.

“I’m gonna assume this question is rhetorical” he muttered.

“Every year, on August 10th, the sky fills with hundreds of lights.”

“You – you mean the lantern things for the missing princess?”

The way your face light up with happiness made Peter’s eyebrows draw up. You nodded excitedly, happy to have found a name for the phenomenon you had observed from your tower for years, and quietly begged to go. The surprise was so huge that you almost dropped the pan. Your entire intimidation-façade dropped.

“I knew they weren’t stars!” you clapped smiling, coughing a second later and bringing your hands to your back. “Well, I have decided that you will take me to see the, uh, lanterns. Then, you will return me home safely and never come back to this tower again. Once we have returned I’ll give you your satchel.

Peter gave you a full belly laugh, throwing his head back.

“Darling, I’m – is this a joke? The kingdom and I aren’t really on speaking terms right now, so I don’t feel the same urge you do to go galivanting into the city limits” Peter smirked; now that your façade was out, he found you much less intimidating. “So, if you could just unwrap me, give me my bag and pretend I was never here, that would put both of us out of a whole load of trouble.”

Your beaming expression dulled and turned into a full-on glare. You suddenly grabbed a hold of your hair, and with a sharp tug, Peter and his chair were tilting forward into your grasp. Peter found himself almost nose to nose with you, but was hard to maintain eye contact when you had caught him in a death stare.

“Listen here, Parker” your voice was cold and unforgiving. “You could tear this tower apart stone by stone. Brick by brick, boulder by boulder. But without my help, you’ll never find your precious satchel”

“So” Peter started, swallowing hard. His neck was starting to feel too hot. “I take you to the lanterns, bring you home without a scratch, and you give me back my bag?”

“I promise. And when I promise something, I never break that promise” you let the pregnant pause roll by, and then continued. “Ever.”

Honestly, you weren’t feeling confident. The boy in front of you had the capacity of making you nervous all the time. You didn’t know if it would happen with everyone you met on the way, but you had the imperial urge of tame those locks back with your fingers.

Peter didn’t notice, and tried to win the death-stare-competition, but it was pretty obvious that you were not backing down; so he gave up and diverted his eyes.

“I’ll take you to the lanterns.”

You squealed like a child, the pan fell the ground; along with the chair. Peter stumbled back with a thud, as you jumped around. Pascal seemed happy too, as he climbed into your shoulder and smiled broadly. Peter couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and he snickered. He pushed the guilt aside; if you were that guidable and trustable, he could easily take the crown and run away. There was no place for kindness of innocence in that world. Still, Peter felt a pang on his chest as he watched you talk about what you should take with you.

“Now, could you unwrap me?”

Tom Holland and Peter Parker Taglist

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orderuponthe99prettygrimmdiaries · 3 years

Text

You’ve made your bed, now you gotta lie in it.

Moments like these sometimes makes me wonder if it would really affect anyone if I was gone (well, I mean apart from my parents of course)... I fucking hate having such thoughts... Is it just my insecurities, anxiety, hormonal crap, or why do I have this feeling like I’m a backup...

Ugh, but that’s the fucking thing - everyone has their own lives. No one’s lives revolves around yours, so I need to remind myself of this and stop stressing out when things seem to be slightly different. People might be upset with some other aspect, they might be stressed, they might be tired, they might need a break, and yes, sometimes it’s a break from you. Especially so in this period. So take this fucking time to have a good break too.

Speaking of, very thankful that the psychiatrist I met with today gave me medical leave for tomorrow, really needed that. So for tomorrow, not gonna touch anything related to work. No emails, no whatsapp, nothing. It’s time to take a proper break to reset myself, to recharge.

Today definitely wasn’t what I expected it to be. Had thought it would be like a normal counselling session, but I guess it was more of a get-to-know-your-situation. Also, there was a med student there too, which kinda felt a little odd and definitely held back a little on what I wanted to say, but he was nice. Mainly talked about work stress, sleep stuff, and oof, honestly my appetite just got way worse. I just survived today on a cup of tea, a can of coffee, an egg for breakfast, and then dinner. It’s amazing how I didn’t even feel hunger at all, no gastric pains, nothing. Well, there was slight hunger, then the stress kicked in again and that was gone.

Anyhoo.. we also spoke briefly about family.. didn’t really cover relationships or friends much, the former being one I wanted to talk a bit of, considering everything. But well, either way. Next round, or when I get my session with a psychologist... which I’m honestly contemplating about. Maybe I should just return to the counselling place I went to..

But, was reminded about some stuff too - breathing exercises, mindfulness... He had also asked what I had hoped to achieve from this (also why I decided to seek help, why now), which was really to manage my emotions better. I mean I know we can’t always have happiness... But ufgh, the dip from happiness to currently what shit state I’m in right now, I just.. I don’t even know. I really hope this is just an exhaustion phase plus the hormones acting up, I really can’t bear to let myself slip back into this again. ‘This’ being the darkest moments I consider in my life in 2015, which I also kinda mentioned to them. He asked if it felt worse then or now, and I said it was then.. I did hesitate in responding. I mean, it does feel pretty bad now but I think I’m more well equipped in handling it at least, and better support system overall.

This is also another reason why I hate having those thoughts I was talking about at the start of this post. Some of my colleagues are being sweet about everything, one asking why I’m still continuing with work despite my appointment (I almost teared up yet again), and my manager encouraging me to take a break and offering to be a listening ear too, and even the other driver offering a ride (which honestly, I don’t think I could even accept considering the “rules” with covid-situation). Was still sweet though. Even the newbie that I mostly speak to about work (we’ve recently started talking a bit more) had asked, she (and I guess the VP) probably heard my choked up crying voice yesterday at the end of the meeting. So yep.

Ufff, and other friends being concerned and sending their love. Oh, and the one person I hoped who would check in.. well, didn’t really, but we did talk for a bit and that was nice. I do think that my mood is rubbing off, or at least it feels like it is, or we just need to take a little step back. Especially myself, considering I’m getting way too attached again, and catching way too much feelings.

But I mean... I was the one who made the decision to continue talking to him when he returned. I could have left it. I could have left it be every single time it felt like the convo was dying, but I didn’t want it to end. Despite what everyone said, I trusted my heart and feelings, I trusted him. I’m not saying I regret it, really. I knew who he was, or at least the person he shows to me. Maybe he’s not always all that concerned or caring, maybe he doesn’t really speak that much or initiate a lot at times, but I still somehow fell for him.

I’ve been actually thinking quite a bit about the moment we first met... Apparently it was either on his birthday or soon after it. That very first time, just a simple “thank you” as he left, that caught my attention. And the very next time, we got to talking a bit. It felt comfortable, it felt great. It caught my interest. He caught my interest. Then time went by... And then I finally got his name (and also his number and a date) so that kinda snowballed pretty fast after very slow progress. I’m not sure where it’s going now, I don’t think I’ve ever known. Sometimes it feels like he might feel somewhat similarly, sometimes no. Some say that ain’t great, but also you shouldn’t compare progress?? So... yeah.

Oh, but I digress. I was gonna say how even though now isn’t as bad as 2015 was, it’s definitely terrifying that I had missed the symptoms and signs, or maybe I just brushed them off because I was busy and focused with work or life and then I just hit burnout so bad without even realising.

Am trying my best to divert my mind and emotions today, especially with crying too much over the past week. Didn’t exactly work the way I wanted hah. Still cried quite a bit, but am trying to channel all this negative into positive to people around me. Maybe I’m not strong enough to just be all positive for me, but maybe I could try to make things better for someone else at least. I had told a friend this, and she’s like you shouldn’t do this for others but yourself, which is sweet and I appreciate her sentiment. But sometimes I’m just unable to fake it to pretend that all’s peachy (I mean I’m already trying my best to hide it on the outside, especially at work), so the most I could try is to make things better for someone, anyone. Even despite he didn’t check in, maybe he wanted to give me my space, maybe he didn’t want to probe, or just maybe he doesn’t really give a crap about it/me, I wanted to try. I still wanted to try.

Gah, but whatever. Enough of thinking, enough of worrying, enough of stressing. For tomorrow, I just gotta take a proper break. Focus on me. And hopefully, oh damn, hopefully, things will start feeling okay again.

Man, this was much longer than I expected it to be. It’s kinda sad that I write best when I’m upset, but I do enjoy it so much cos I’m finally able to put into words all the thoughts that I’ve got scrambling around in my head. Also just got reminded how the psychiatrist and the med student felt bad for me when I said I didn’t dare to go walking alone anymore after what happened the other time, and I just.. Ufgh, and the way he said it... no one deserves to feel afraid to go walking alone or that should have been your right. I do hope that I’ll overcome this again soon, cos I definitely need it.

Well, this was a nice release. Time to focus on the positives and be more appreciative of what I have, instead of what I don’t, or feel like I don’t. Gotta do my best to stop this spiral before I really disappear into the darkness forever.

Ugh, but I gotta say, I’m really proud of taking this step and not postponing the appointment, to still be open about life and all most that I’m dealing with. Yes, I still need to learn when to bite my tongue and actually who are the right people to trust, but I guess sometimes when you’re feeling so overwhelmed...

But anyhoo.. I’m sure I’ve got this, and I hope things will start looking up from here. And well, I guess time to start job hunting too.

#post of the day #personal #mental health #work #life #self reminder #therapy #friends #family #break #self care #emotions #guys #feelings

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draconivn · 4 years

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C.007 | Daughter of the Takeda

Disclaimer: I don’t own Samurai Love Ballad: PARTY or its characters. Hints of spoilers to one of the routes. Summary: You wanted to do more than just be in the kitchen like any woman would’ve known how to do. You want to explore. You want to become so much more. But when you live in a world of war, what you decide to do in your past ends up following you to your future, even though the battlefield is no place for a woman. Will you find love or will you only find blood? Saizo x OC MC Masterpost: LINK

Chapter 7: A New Instruction

It had been two days since then that I was carrying Lord Shingen's morning tea to his chambers when a retainer approached me to tell me I was being summoned. Breakfast service was done, so I didn’t have to rush and tell Umeko or Matsuko to proceed without me. I thanked him, and continued on my way over. I could hear Lord Yukimura's voice from within, so I knocked before announcing myself. "Lord Shingen, it's Zaria."

"Come in."

There wasn't much of a pause from when I announced myself to when he told me to come in, so I slid open the door and entered, bowing my head with the tray. It seemed that Master Sasuke and Saizo was also in here with them, and I glanced down at the tray I brought. "Pardon the intrusion, Milords. Lord Shingen, I was bringing your tea when I was informed you summoned for me?"

“You’re just in time.” He gestured to the edge of his desk. “You can place it there for now and have a seat.”

I nodded. “Pardon me, Milords.” I placed the tray down on his desk carefully, pouring the cup before taking a seat. I glanced over at others, but it seemed that neither Lord Yukimura or Saizo had an idea of where this conversation was headed now that I was here.

“Zaria, I’m sending you to Ueda to live and train with Yukimura.”

“What–” I was speechless. Train with Lord Yukimura in Ueda?

Surprise and confusion hung in the air, while Master Sasuke seemed calm about it as Lord Shingen kept speaking.

“This is only temporary. Yukimura, I’m tasking you to train her in the proper ways of a samurai, from weapons to riding a horse. I don’t want a single thing left out. If she needs to be trained alongside your men, so be it.”

Lord Yukimura looked at me, then back to him, a stammered response coming out before he could finally find the words, “B-But Milord… I don’t understand the reason for all of this.”

“Even an onna-bugeisha of my house needs to ensure she has her basics, Yukimura.” Lord Shingen spoke so matter-of-factly as he explained the reason like he was talking about the weather, but it didn’t seem to settle the surprise we felt over the matter.

It was all so sudden, and my gaze was on Saizo for his reaction, but he had already schooled his expressions while we were more verbal and expressive on the matter.

“I won’t be around forever, and she’s going to need to learn everything she can before she can lead the clan.” Lord Shingen’s words were like a last will of sorts, leaving me with an unsettling feeling.

“Lead the clan…?”

“But…” I looked to Lord Shingen. “...I don’t quite understand why I’d have to be sent to Ueda, Milord.”

“Many people would want the head of the clan dead, Zaria. If people were to know you were next in line, then you wouldn’t be safe in the condition you’re in. By sending you to Ueda where you can get the utmost amount of training since Yukimura is already training his men and others, rather than consume that time through travelling back and forth from here. You will also be safer this way, but I expect you to be fully trained in two months.”

Saizo seemed to not care, but rather, question the usage of Lord Yukimura’s time. “So we’re expected to turn a castle cook into the new head of the Takeda? That’s a pretty tall order, Shingen.”

Master Sasuke spoke up next, drawing our attention to him. “She’s already got quite a bit of skill, so you don’t have to worry about her being able to lift, but it’s just a matter of making sure she has the foundations of a samurai. Well, in her case, an onna-bugeisha.” He looked over to me with a grin. “But with everything you already know, you might end up being a new kind of onna-bugeisha."

I diverted my gaze from Lord Yukimura and Saizo. This discussion was far from what I expected to happen in telling them. Then again, I didn't have a plan of how to tell them properly. But it was too late, now that Lord Shingen and Master Sasuke were saying all these things. "You say that as if I know more than you, but I only know what you’ve all taught me before.”

Lord Shingen chuckled, his reaction halting any starts of protests. "I trust you'll be learning a lot, Zaria. Yukimura is one of our best in the army, I'm sure you know that already, but there is no one else I'd trust to train you." His laughing expression turned serious. "But we can't have word of this spreading around. In Ueda, it will be fine if everyone knows where she stands in the clan, but anyone else may pose a danger if they were to know. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Milord."

Despite the fact that I responded with the both of them, I felt hesitation and uncertainty. I wasn’t schooling my expressions today, and it seemed that Lord Shingen caught sight of it when he called to me,

"Zaria, stay back for a moment." He waited as Master Sasuke, Lord Yukimura and Saizo got up to leave, shutting the door behind them. "Something on your mind, little cub?"

I relaxed a bit when he addressed me as such, though I could only glance at the doorway. "I know you said that it'd be safer to go to Ueda but… is there really no other way?"

“Come here.” Lord Shingen motioned me over.

I got up and sat right in front of him, his large hand coming up to rest on my head.

"You have a big responsibility, Zaria. If someone doesn't take over this clan, you will, and I know you’ve seen the things everyone has had to do around here to ensure the Takeda continue to survive. This is the only option we have right now if you’re nowhere near ready." He had to say it so bluntly, like there was really no other answer, no matter how much I wanted to stay and learn here.

"But I can also learn about the clan's affairs just as well by being here!"

"I know you've been listening well when you come to deliver tea, but knowing how to handle the politics of the Takeda is only half the battle. You'll go to Ueda with Yukimura and Saizo when they leave for the day. Use this time to learn from Yukimura and then come back to me. I'll teach you as much as I can. I know you like cooking, but don't overdo it when you get there, yeah?" He grinned, ruffling my hair.

"L-Lord Shingen!"

"Hey now, aren't you being a bit too informal? I'm your old man now."

I chewed on my lower lip, as the words sunk into my head. That's right. I have someone to call that now. I looked up at him after a moment and smiled. "Thank you, Father. I'll make sure to train well."

"That's my little cub." He grinned. "Now go see Kiku. If we're going to show you off as a lady of this House, she'll make sure you know how to knock 'em dead. Just make sure you give yourself some time to pack."

"Thank you, L- Father." I nodded and stood up, excusing myself from his chambers. I appreciated the things that Lord Shingen was doing for me, and it seemed that there was really no other way to go about it. I couldn't keep being scared and hiding in my fear of others knowing, but I had to work hard to show that his decision to allow me in was not for nothing. I knew Lord Yukimura and Saizo would start questioning everything as soon as they saw me but up ahead, I could see them talking to Master Sasuke before I slipped around the corner. My footsteps picked up at the sound of my name being called but I pretended to not hear it.

What was that about not being scared and hiding in your fear of others knowing?

… J-Just give me a bit more time and I'll talk to them.

You're contradicting yourself again.

I'm trying my best. I shook my head clear and went down an alternate corridor towards Lady Kiku's chambers in hopes she was there.

Lady Kiku was Lord Shingen's niece, beautiful and sweet. We had met before in passing, though I wasn't sure if she remembered me at first. Or at least, I was mistaken to think so, the very thought flying out the window when I saw the way she lit up when I came in. Sounds of glee filled the room and kimonos flew in every direction in every attempt to help me dress the part of my new station, hardly wasting any time in dolling me up with lessons for the entire morning. Lunch had been spent focused on mannerisms, while her lessons on how to walk and behave like a noble lady were ruthless, meaning to undo every way I knew how to walk as it already was.

"–Is what Uncle says is true? That you'll be fighting on the battlefield too?"

"Huh?" I stopped in my tracks to look at her. I nearly dropped the book I was using to keep my head steady to the floor, my hands reflexively catching it for my practice to halt temporarily. "He told you about that, did he…"

Lady Kiku was intuitive, but she also had a curiosity that seemed to try and understand the freedom Lord Shingen seemed to brazenly have, as if wanting that for her own. While she sat there looking pretty and elegant, her way of speaking had become more casual as she went on. "When he told me about teaching you, I didn't quite understand why he had taken on a daughter instead of a bride. I know it's not my business to ask, but he told me anyhow." She smiled and leaned forward a little, her eyes curious. "But you're too pretty for the battlefield. Any man would probably fall in love with you if you were more confident in yourself. Hmm…"

I never wanted to disagree more than I did then and there, but it was hard to deny it when she was getting a little too close, making me blink and lean back bit by bit. "W-What is it…?"

She had an innocent look on her face, mischief flickering over for a moment. "If you had to marry a samurai, who would you pick?"

I was taken aback at the question. "W-Why the s-sudden question?" My cheeks flared up, taking a step back to avoid her peering gaze.

She smiled, leaning back as if she enjoyed being able to get this out of me. "It's been so long since I've been able to have any girl talk. Come on, do tell! One day we'll have to get married, but if you could pick, what kind of man would marry?" She patted the spot next to her, drawing me away from my practice.

"If I could…?" I echoed back.

"It doesn't hurt to dream a little, would it?"

Lord Shingen's words about marriage a few nights ago were no longer a worry, yet I still felt like I had done this irreversible crime that slapped Saizo in the face. But I was ready to be hated for what I was doing, out of my own selfishness, out of the need for duty. I wanted to make sure the people I cared about didn't die, and unfortunately, this was the consequence of my selfishness. Even though I had considered Saizo in my decision-making, I was that much more afraid of losing him physically than emotionally.

Then Lord Yukimura would lose someone close to him, and he would have to deal with that. Other people's happiness was my happiness, and I didn't want to see anyone suffer.

In this position, I held responsibility for my simple yes. It was a trade-off that never would've given me equal to what it would receive. I had much to learn in so little time.

Being at Ueda wouldn't do anything to save that affection.

So after a moment of thinking, I gave Lady Kiku a sheepish smile. I’ll let my words betray my thoughts just this once. "I wouldn't know, Lady Kiku. It's never really crossed my mind."

#fanfic: daughter of the takeda #fanfics ;#fanfic: slbp #I've been sitting on this chapter for a while but it's something I had to really think about #I also got sidetracked but here's hoping we're back on track to something better #minju fanfics ;

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