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kaijurakunsobs · 3 years

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If requests are open could you do a Heisenberg fic with a teen or young adult reader(no older than 20 please) who stumbles into the village trying to get away from their parents and after they get attacked by Lycans Heisenberg patches them up and takes them in trying to hide them from his sister and mother miranda. Could you please do it with an AFAB reader who doesn’t identify as female? I am currently dealing with borderline verbal abuse from my conservative father who doesnt like that though I am AFAB I don’t identify as female.

first, baby, I'm so sorry that this is happening to you. I know how bad and mentally taxing that kind of living situation can get, I was in a similar situation and somehow managed to pull through.

you are not alone, you are loved and I hope everything gets better, never forget that it's you who defines yourself, your self worth should NEVER be defined by others

All you can think is...how cold everything is around you, how the freezing air burns your skin and lungs, but, you have endured something worst, physical pain can be healed with time, emotional and psychological pain is what hurts the most, what feels eternal and haunting, it coils around you, it grows and never let's go, like being branded, it leaves marks that never go away.

Running aimlessly through the snow feels like nothing.

What made you get out of the car?

Was it anger?

Desperation?

Does that even matter anymore?

You can't hear their voices anymore, so that's a win.

Farther away you see smoke and fain lights, distant sounds beckoning you closer to that place, and you let yourself smile widely when the silhouette of someone standing so close to you, you could get help, start somewhere new, be happy!

But it's so short-lived, that you question if there's divine retribution, karma, or just the universe laughing in your face.

Your "savior" is covered in blood, a man with a perpetual expression of agony lays in the snow, dead. The monster turns to you and finally the cold freezes you where you stand, it's not alone, and all the other creatures are looking at you, dark soulless eyes fixated on their new prey.

You have felt like that before under his gaze like if you were vermin, it made you furious how you were treated and consider as something lesser than a person. These things look at you the same like you are just a speck of dust in their path, and maybe you are, if the mangled body is any indication that taking a life will be nothing for them.

You see it from the corner of your eye, one of them lunges for you, and then? everything is a blur.

You remember kicking and punching wildly, adrenaline making you forget about the pain of the bites and scratches, there are memories of you running and using something to smash the head of one of the monsters, a rock, perhaps? But in the end, cold, blood loss, and exhaustion are enough to bring you to your knees. One of them grabs a fistful of hair and roars in your face and you know, that, this is it, you fought and did your best, but this is the end of your travesty...so much for your new life of freedom.

"Get the fuck away...I SAID FUCK OFF!" his voice is so loud that it makes you whimper and recoil "LET GO, CAN'T YOU HEAR ME? LET GO, DAMN IT!" the smell of blood and a warm liquid hits you hard, but at least you are free, letting your body hit the snow

"What do we have here?...this one is alive, but ya ain't from around here, do you?" he's smoking and something small and silly wants you to tell him that smoking is bad, which makes you smile so softly "...Interesting"

Heisenberg rarely gets intrigued by anything, he hasn't found anything to spark his curiosity in so long, so of course, he had to come and see what was causing such a commotion. What he thought to be a villager, fist fighting the lycans so valiantly, turned out to be a teenager, he saw you from afar, furiously kicking lycan after lycan, you didn't even notice the growing red spots in your clothes and the black eye, it was survival and feral like behavior. Truly interesting.

Now, what made him pick you up with care? years from today he will say it was just "Scientific interest kiddo! nothing more", but, it's the pain in your face that makes him act so soft, it's not the agony brought by your wounds, this goes deeper, it's different and he knows it very well.

Under normal circumstances, he would have taken you to Moreau, but he knows the loud mouth will give you to that bitch Miranda and that will be it for you. Dimitrescu is OUT of the equation, so does Beneviento, hell knows what her psychotic ass would do to you. So he brings you back to his home and takes time to clean your wounds, true, his stitching abilities are amazing...on corpses, and a lack of anesthesia and your occasional movements makes it hard for him to stitch you properly, but by the end of everything, you are bandaged and clean, isn't that the important part?

He’s done his part, the rest is on you. If you had the strength to fight and even kill a lycan, you might live to see another day

How long were you out?

You are warm and so fucking sore, cracking your eyes open is a big task and even harder to sit up in the bed you are laying on. The room is black and smells like tobacco, oil, and something you can’t place but it’s nice.

Barefoot and curious you start to get up, wincing deep and loud when pain floods your body, but you get up non-less, you feel the cold air hit your legs, and immediately pull down the shirt to cover yourself. Then it fully clicks, the jagged memories of what happened slaps you in the face and make you lose your footing, falling back on the bed you pry the shirt off from your body, you see bandages and patches placed on smaller wounds, your head is killing you and your right eye hurts like crazy.

With small breathes you pull the shirt back on and force your body to get up and investigate the room. There are piles of clothes and pieces of paper everywhere, picking one of the pants you sigh, these are yours, but they have been destroyed either by the beasts or by however brought you here. Looking around there’s nothing more, time to go out.

The only door leads you to an open room, the kitchen and living room placed together, in one of the sofas you can see someone laying down, their chest rising and falling softly, their face obscured by an old hat.

You try to be as quiet and sneaky as possible when getting back into the room “Where do you think you are going, kid?” his voice is thick with sleep but the sound is enough to make you yelp, slamming your shoulder against the door frame, the man jumps up and in a couple of strides he’s beside you “Can you more fucking careful? the stitches gonna get open and if you get an infection I ain’t risking my neck to get you meds”

He’s a bit taller than you with squared and wide shoulders, his face is stern and it seems like he’s annoyed about something, is it you? Did you anger him? You try to remember what could you have done to make him so mad but nothing comes to you, is not like you remember much, and what you do, is better to be left forgotten.

Heisenberg has seen many people look at him with fear, reverence even, but he has never been in the receiving end of a look like yours, he has to close his eyes for a second, carefully grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the kitchen, almost forcing you to take a seat in on of the wobbly chairs he owns.

“Well now that you are back with us, I can finally cook something to eat. You must be starving! I would too after the way you fought back there” he lets out a howl while he busies himself with pulling ingredients for whatever he’s cooking “I saw ya, you know? That was one hell of a show and I know about putting up good entertainment, you gave those lycans a good beating”

Lycans? So those things have names...uuuh, who would have thought.

"What's your name kid?" you get pulled out of your mind by his voice and the smell of cooking eggs, for a moment you wonder and think, that this is the time to be addressed by YOUR name "...I'm Y/N, sir"

"Cut the sir bullshit, you ain't trying to impress nobody here, you can call me Heisenberg, Karl if you wanna get my attention quickly, got it?"

"Yes...Heisenberg?"

He's rather harsh from what little you have seen of him, but he's careful when serving you breakfast, a steady hand serves you tea and makes quick work of a loaf of bread, whit that you two eat in relative silence, he eats like a wolf and that's enough to make you hide a smile.

"Once you are...better..." he's speaking between bites, eew "I'm taking you to get some new clothes, staying here ain't gonna be free, ok?" with his fork pointing at you he waits and continues without you answering "I'll have to teach you...that's gonna take time..."

"I'm a faster learner!"

Heisenberg laughs at the offended tone in your voice, taking a big gulp from his mug once he stops "I like ya kid, there's a fire in you and I respect that, we gonna get along"

It takes you almost 2 weeks to fully recover and be able to move without crying out in pain. On the day he announces that he must take off your stitches, he's kind when pulling on the thread, talking about how that same day he's taking you to the seamstress cuz he's "done" having you wear his stuff.

The seamstress in the Village seems flabbergasted when "Lord Heisenberg" comes into her house, demanding she makes you good sturdy pants and easy to move in shirts. From that sole visit is enough for people to call you "Heisenberg's assistant" whenever you are sent to the village or just went spotted by anyone. The Duke, the merchant that sometimes you have found yourself talking to, does nothing but fuel the rumor, people already fear Heisenberg on a god day, now they fear you might be spying for him.

You would be lying by saying that, Heisenberg is a normal man, he's flamboyant and loud, filled with pride, and what you can describe as...showmanship, he speaks with passion when explaining to you the ins and outs of the factory. He's always close, never breathing down your neck, just close enough to hear if you need help.

The first time you see him use his gift is the most embarrassing and awkward moment of your life.

You are working on some molds for pieces he needs to make from scratch, he taught you where you should work on that, away from whatever lurks in the lower areas of the factory. You were so engrossed in getting the mold out perfectly, tongue sticking out and heavy gloves helping you to pry open the damn thing open, you don't even jump when a hand lands on your shoulder, but you do when the ghoulish face of a corpse appears beside you.

He's running the second he hears you, a high pitched sound tearing through the noise of the machinery, he sees you bolting it towards him and a Zwei Soldat quickly catching up with you, the drill in its arm too close to your back, the moment you are close enough he pulls you towards and behind him, a metal sheet flying to the thing and beheading it in an instant.

"Kid...Kid, look at me, hey, eyes on me" you are not crying, there's no blood anywhere and nothing seems to be missing, you seem more startled than anything else, but you listen to him, concentrated on him and his voice "Y/N, it's ok kid, I'm here"

Then it happens, you let it slip. "Thanks...thanks dad"

You feel him go tense, the hands-on your shoulders shake for a second and embarrassment comes crashing down on you, you are ready for him to yell or push you away and order you to see if the mold is still useful, but he pulls you close, patting your back like you never said anything.

There are days when you can hear him talking on the phone, his voice growing irritated, and his explosive temper getting worst.

You are curled up in the crawlspace that he turned into your room, listening to him talking with someone, he sounds exasperated and nervous. This time he takes longer to come out from his room, a new cigar in his mouth and hammer over his shoulder, usually, he would tell you that he's leaving for a couple of hours, this time he's just there, tapping his foot and sparing quick glances at you.

"Get your coat, we need to leave"

That's new...he never takes you with him to wherever he goes, but you don't feel like arguing and do as he says, slipping your boots on and grabbing your coat.

Heisenberg is unusually quiet this time, only the snow crunching under your feet make enough sound to fill in the void, he takes you farther from the village and into a rundown church, you can hear new voices and the unforgettable sounds of the lycans snarling.

Inside the candlelight is soft and cast strange shadows of the people already waiting inside. There's a woman in a white dress that probably towers over you, another lady dressed in black and her covered, she sits in a corner with a creepy doll on her lap, and finally, a shy man who battles to cover himself with the torn cloth of his jacket.

"Is this why mother Miranda called us? Did you brought a new toy and never informed her? what a bad dog you are Heisenberg"

"Non of your business, Dimitrescu" Karl does everything to keep you behind him, away from the doll or the twisted man, but especially from the woman, Dimitrescu as he called her.

From where you stood, you could see how beautiful and regal she is, sitting with grace and a sarcastic smile plastered on her face. Noticing you, she moved slightly to get a better look, narrowing her eyes, making you feel small and like food. Before she can't even speak the sound of feathers caught your attention, giving Karl enough time to guide you to one of the pews, making you take a seat beside him.

The four adults greeted the new woman, the infamous mother Miranda, you have heard about her in the village and through small stories shared by the Duke, but mostly, you have heard Heisenberg curse the woman and call her every single name under the sun.

"Usually I wouldn't care for what my children do in their dominions, but, Karl, I must say I'm disappointed in you...to hide this child and avoid telling us?"

"I apologize, Miranda, the right opportunity never came" ooooh he's pissed

"I say you take his toy, Mother Miranda, and if possible, give me that lovely lady to me?" at that your gut twist uncomfortably, it's been some time since you were...addressed like that

"Excuse me?" Heisenberg cocks his head to the side, looking at Dimitrescu over his shades "Are you talking about my SON?"

"YOUR SON?! Don't make laugh, child, I can smell the sweet maiden blood running through her veins, that's a lady not one of your dirty lycans"

"And you are bitch no matter how well you dress!"

"ENOUGH!" Miranda's voice breaks them apart, everyone looking at her "Care to elaborate, Heisenberg?"

Karl takes a second to take a drag from his cigar and blow a cloud of some into the air "I found Y/N here, they fought hard to survive and I took them in, just like Alcina, and her lovely daughters...I decided it was my time to have a child of my own"

"That doesn't change the fact that you brought an outsider and didn't inform mother, and now you are trying to do what exactly? have...them...play house with you?"

"Lady Dimitrescu, that's enough" she's looking at you, mother Miranda in staring, and Heisenberg as a hand on your back, suddenly you are hyper-aware of everything, the sounds and smells, the movements each person in the room does, the way the candles flicker "I allow it, may this never happen again, Heisenberg. Next time there will be consequences"

You feel like passing out after that, the screams of Dimitrescu and the doll get drown by the ringing in your ears, everything keeping you together is Heisenberg's hand on yours cursing up a storm as he pulls you along with him.

The cold air feeling nice against your burning skin.

"Kid? I think you are ready" you are halfway through the trek back to the factory when he speaks again

"Ready for what?"

"To be introduced to the Heisenberg family true work, of course! What kind of father I would be if I don't involve you in our family's business"

You trip with your feet hearing him say that, so...he meant it? what he said in the church...that you are his son?

"Come on Y/N, I won't go easy on you because you are my kid now, quick quick"

Catching up to him is easy and you feel at peace when one of his arms wraps around you, he begins to talk about how many things he's gonna teach you and how exciting is to have a young mind to shape.

For the first time, you are eager to get back home.

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #x reader #heisendad #resident evil 8 #re8 #answer stuff #request stuff #reader is a teen #trans reader

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

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ILLICITUS: CHAPTER 4

Prompt: Y/N is a respectful narcotics agent, she worked hard to have her work recognized in a prominently male work field. She‘s assigned to the most important case of her whole career, investigate and apprehend the biggest drug dealer of U.S.A, the only thing she didn’t count on, was for the bastard to be so damn charming.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, blackmail, cursing, conspiracy.

Tagging: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @nicolewoo , @bayley-no-friends , @lilred91 , @auawdo , @lustyromantic

Notes: Where is this going to?...To catch up with the previous chapters just hit my Masterlist! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

I walk from Matt’s office to my desk in utter shock.

*What the hell is going on?* Is all I can think about. What seemed to be the opportunity of a life time (career wise) is becoming a true nightmare. One I couldn’t wait to wake up.

“Hey, kid! My office, NOW!” Jeffrey screamed

*Oh God, that’s all I needed right now*

“Yes, Jeffrey?” I reluctantly asked

He urgently closed and locked his office’s door

“Why did you locked the door?” I ask suspicious

He ignored me and motions for me to sit down. He was so nervous that it would be irrelevant to try to do anything but obey him.

“Happy?” I said bitterly

“Did you knew I was being tracked?” He whispered

“What do you mean?”

“Someone wiretapped my house!”

“Wait, wait. What? Are you serious Jeffrey?”

“Do I look like I’m joking to you, kid?” He angrily whispered

“Why would someone wiretap you?”

“How the fuck would I know? The only thing I know is that it came from the Bureau”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we are the only ones who use that type of technology. You can’t find that shit on the streets! Which makes me think why the fuck is somebody from this building minding my business?”He whispered screamed again

“Ok, first of all, you need to calm the fuck down! You’re little temper is not helping me to think at all. And you’re practically demonstrating to the person who did that, that you know about the wire. So take a deep breath, old man” I whispered and in an attempt to calm himself down, Jeffrey lit up a cigarette.

“Alright, where did you found the wiretap?”

“On the cable modem. We leave it at the leaving room”

“Ok, have you had any problems with your internet signal?”

“No. Why?”

“Sometimes in order to place a wire inside the house, they cause an external problem in the signal so you’ll call the cable company and someone from investigation will get inside the house to put the wire, pretending to be someone from the cable company” I explained and he gave me a puzzled look

“What?” I ask

“How do you-“

“They did that in New York to catch the Mob bosses. What kind of cop are you Jeffrey that doesn’t know about the biggest take down of the five biggest mob families of New York?” I tease

“I’m getting old, that’s my excuse” He laughs

“So if nobody came to fix anything, they must have came in normally then....has anyone from the Bureau came to your house recently?”

“Oh fuck. Everybody, kid”

“Everybody?”

“Yeah, two weeks ago, remember?”

“Shit, your birthday party” I dropped my head in defeat

“We have at least 30 suspects” He mumble

Something tells me whoever is doing this is trying to put me against Jeffrey so I decided to come clean with him

“Jeff, someone requested for a tracker on Roman Reigns”

“Please tell me you’re shitting me” He murmured “Who signed?”

“Apparently me”

“WHAT?” He screamed

“Shhhhh, someone will hear you!”

“What do you mean with ‘apparently you’?”

“My DEA ID number was in the requested by space”

“And how could someone get that?” He asked

“According to Matt, anyone who’s smart enough. He said is not that difficult, you just need to know where to look” I sighed

“Do you know when it was installed?”

“Yesterday, as I was there. Whoever did it wanted to make sure the timing matched perfectly....My biggest fear is for him to find out before I can remov-“ I was cut off by my phone ringing with an unfamiliar number.

“Y/L/N” Was my greeting

“Good morning, agent Y/L/N.”

*Oh fuck no!* I thought

“Good morning Mr. Reigns, how can I help you?”

“Well, I would like for you to join me for lunch, I have a subject I would like to discuss with you”

“I’m afraid I can’t, sir. I have a lot of work and-“

“Oh I’m certain your work can wait agent Y/L/N. Since you have some explaining to do”

“I beg your pardon?” I was already preparing myself for what I knew it would be inevitable

Roman laughs amused “Y/N. Did you really thought you could put a tracker on me and I wouldn’t find out? C’mon baby, I thought you were smarter than that!”

“Mr. Reigns, it’s not what you think-“

“I’m not gonna discuss this through a phone call. Be here at noon!” His voice colder than a bucket of ice

He hung up, before I could even protest it.

“What is it?” Jeffrey asked

“He found out and wants me to explain it” I faintly whispered

“Fucking great!” He grunts “Are you gonna go? Do you want me to go with you?”

“I have to go, I got no choice. And no, if I show up there with you is just gonna make things worst”

He nods “What are you going to do, kid?”

“Pray Jeff...pray like a fucking nun!”

......................................................................

“There she is! The little sneaky spy” Roman smirked at me “Please, sit” He motions to his office chair. The same one I sat the first time I was there.

“So, are you going to explain to me about this little thing?” He dropped the tracker on my lap

“Mr. Reigns, I know how this looks to you but I can guarantee, I didn’t requested this”

“You didn’t? Then how come is your internal identification number upon the request by line?”

*Of course he knows about that too*

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, sir”

“So what? You’re not trying to pull up the old trick that somebody is setting you up, right Y/N?”

“I know is hard to believe and if was in your position I would have the same disbelief as you right now, but unfortunately that is the pathetic truth”

“Do you expect me to believe that, agent Y/L/N?” He chuckled

I stare at him, responding “No, Mr. Reigns. I expect you to be reasonable, I would be naïve to think that I could do such an immature move like putting a tracker on you and expect you not to find out about it. As a matter of fact I would be straight up dumb if I thought that, that would ever work. So no I didn’t do it, somebody else did and that’s the reality, now whether you want to believe it or not it’s not my problem” I was taking a big risk talking to him like that, but it was the only thing I could do right now, bluff.

Roman places both of his hands on my thighs, leaning down until our faces are uncomfortably close.

“You play a dangerous game, Y/N. A very, very dangerous game” He licks my bottom lip “But I like that, it turns me on” Roman dragged his nose upon my neck, breathing in my scent

“You turn me on” He whispers in my ear “The things I can see myself doing to you are pure torture because that’s all what they are: imagination, and I want them to become reality. I want to see you spreading your legs for me, I want you in all fours on top of my bed, I want your pretty lips around my cock, I want my face in between your thighs, I want to fuck you in whatever pace I feel like it, I want you to take every inch of my cock, I wanna feel you stretching around me baby, moaning for me to go deeper and harder”

This man...The things he says, his voice so deep, his cologne filling up my nostrils and intoxicating me on his scent, on him.

“Roman” I whispered, but he continued

“You know there’s a chemistry between us, I know you can feel it too babygirl, so why hide it? Why suppress it, when we can put this stamina to good use, baby? I want it, you want it, it’s a simple math”

“That wouldn’t be very professional, I’m afraid” I mumbled

He leans back to look me in the eyes

“The tracker isn’t very professional as well is it?”

“I already told you it wasn’t me”

“And do you think a judge in court will care? There’s your personal DEA number in there, a number that technically only you have access to it and as far as I’m concerned that little tracker would be considered an invasion of privacy, I could sue not only you but the DEA for that. I mean, I signed an official document allowing you to search for anything you want in my professional life, not on my personal one and that tracker was installed on one of my private cars. Do you see my point, Y/N?”

“You want me to fuck you in order for you to keep your mouth shut” I angrily murmured

“Well, biologically speaking I would be the one to fuck you not the other way around” He smirked

“You’re so low, Roman” I spat

“Roman? No more formalities I see, I like that” He smiled

“Not happening” I shake my head vigorously

“What? Do you find me so repugnant that the thought of sleeping with me is that horrifying?” He asked amused

“It’s not that-“

“Oh, so you do find me attractive?” He asks pretending to be surprised

“Modesty doesn’t suits you, Mr. Reigns” I mocked

“So what is it?”

“If I do it, it’s gonna be like signing my guilty sentence. I would be screwing you to somehow make me innocent” I answered

Roman pulled me up from the chair, hugged my waist resting his hands mere inches from my ass.

“No baby, screwing me would be the equivalent to not getting fired, not having a billionaire lawsuit filled against you and not spending the rest of your life in prison” He smiled, now caressing my butt cheeks

“So babygirl, what’s gonna be?”

TO BE CONTINUED

Please let me know your thoughts on this series so far, feedbacks are always nice and appreciated 🥰❤️

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #illicitus series #masochist writes

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holycatsandrabbits · 3 years

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Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 3

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Chapter 3

1996 (Three years later)

Liam got a letter in the mail that morning, another one, from New York this time. Liam didn’t know anyone in New York who would send this kind of letter. In any case, they were all from the same person, no matter the constantly changing postmark, and they all said the same hateful, frightening things.

Liam had just tossed this one into the drawer with the others when Kurt appeared out of nowhere, as only he could. Liam had done a bit of research on vampires in the three years he’d known Kurt (as much study as he could on something that was supposed to be fictional), and teleportation was not a common vampire ability. But then Kurt was not a common vampire.

“Morning,” Kurt said, dropping into a kitchen chair. He looked a bit bed-rumpled, but Liam honestly wasn’t sure whether it was because Kurt had been sleeping or because Kurt thought that humans should look bed-rumpled in the morning. “Been for your run yet?” Kurt asked.

“I was just getting ready to go.”

“Want company?”

“You’re not dressed for it,” Liam pointed out, waving a hand at Kurt’s blue jeans, and that caused Kurt to vanish again. Liam was lacing his shoes when Kurt reappeared, this time wearing athletic shorts and, crucially, no shirt. Liam’s fingers tripped over themselves and got tangled in his shoelaces like clumsy people with jump ropes.

Liam had seen Kurt without his shirt on occasionally over the last three years, most memorably when Kurt had shown Liam the scars he still carried from the earliest thing he remembered— a Bronze Age battle. There was a scar above his heart and two on his left shoulder, the marks of flint arrowheads, presumably the wounds that caused his death.

But that was not what caught Liam’s attention when Kurt was shirtless. Kurt had the build of a fighter: a slender waist, sturdy legs, broad shoulders and strong arms. His chest was smoothly muscled around the scars. Meanwhile Liam had the body of a thirty-year-old history professor who went for a run most mornings, but also had a fondness for rocky road ice cream.

Liam wasn’t sure if Kurt knew about the threatening letters. He was also not sure if Kurt knew how fervently Liam desired him. If he was aware of either, or, most importantly, felt any desire in return, he had never said. And while Liam was sorting out the shoelace mess, Kurt pulled on a shirt, so the distraction passed.

The morning was cool, with fog still gathering around the trees. While they ran, Kurt told Liam about a morning in 1914 outside of Ypres, when snow had fallen silently, covering fallen leaves and fallen soldiers alike.

Liam had learned by now that Kurt did not feel the cold. It must have been obvious during a winter campaign, when Kurt’s fingers did not stiffen with frostbite, or his toes blister with trench foot. Sometimes, Kurt had told him, his fellow soldiers thought of him as an indestructible good luck charm. Sometimes they looked on the only member of their group to emerge from a battle unscathed and called him a demon.

A countless number of Kurt’s stories ended with him holding a fellow soldier as he succumbed to injury and passed out of this world.

When they turned back onto Liam’s street, there was a blue car in Liam’s driveway that belonged to one of Liam’s students, Martina. She was standing beside the car, waving at them. Of course, she wasn’t there to see Liam.

When Liam got out of the shower fifteen minutes later, he was surprised to see Kurt in the kitchen alone, drinking the coffee that Liam kept on hand for him. Coffee and water were the only things Liam had ever seen Kurt eat or drink. “Martina didn’t stay?” Liam asked.

“No. She was just returning my jacket.” Kurt looked melancholy for a moment, a brief flash across his features before it faded back into his usual somewhat detached expression. “She met someone else. He’s moving in.”

Liam looked at him in shock. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Kurt shook his head. “I’m happy for her. She’s about to graduate anyway, so we were going to break it off.”

Martina was not the first of Liam’s students that Kurt had dated. Kurt was very good about it, really. The students he chose were from the graduate program, so all in their mid-twenties or older, and they’d all known what Kurt was. They’d chosen to be a part of his life for a while, providing him with companionship, and, though they didn’t usually state it so plainly, with blood.

“I don’t get attached,” Kurt said. “And I pick those who won’t get attached to me. I don’t have the patience for a line of angry exes. Better to be with those who will part as friends.”

“Have you ever been wrong?” Liam asked. He didn’t look at Kurt, carefully focusing on the toaster and butter dish.

“Accidentally broken someone’s heart, you mean?” Kurt asked. “Or lost my own?”

“Either.”

“Not in a long time.”

“Ah.” Liam buttered his toast with perhaps more force than was called for.

“I investigated him, though. Martina’s new boyfriend. His name is Devon.”

“Investigated,” Liam repeated. He sat down at the table opposite Kurt, accepting the cup of coffee Kurt passed to him.

“He seems like a very nice man. And he loves her.”

“So you read his mind.”

“I can’t read minds.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

Kurt looked amused. “I know. But not because I read your mind. In any case, Martina is my friend. She’s under my protection. And so are you.”

This last part was said gently, but Liam caught its meaning as overtly as he was meant to. He let out a groan and pushed away what was left of his toast. “How long have you known?”

“Long enough. The letters are mailed from around the country, but I am almost certain the sender is local. He probably travels a lot, and also has other people mail the letters without knowing what’s in them.”

“That’s what the police think. They also think they’re not serious.”

Kurt seemed immensely unimpressed by this opinion. “So did you do something that some bastard holds a grudge for? Murder his wife? Steal his parking space? Or do you think it’s because you’re gay?”

Liam’s sexuality was not something that had come up in conversation before, so Liam was a bit startled to hear it accurately described. “I have no idea,” he said. “I certainly don’t recall murdering anyone.”

“I’ve looked over the letters. No fingerprints, and I can’t find anything distinctive about the printer he uses.” When Kurt got emotional, he wore it strangely, as if he could be both agitated and unaffected at the same time. Right now his green eyes were bright and his mouth tight. His fingers curled sharply around his coffee cup, blanching white where they gripped too hard. But the rest of his body was still relaxed in the chair, stretched into the sort of lazy pretzel shape that sore legs often took after a run. Liam sometimes wondered what Kurt would be like if he stopped trying so hard to seem human.

“They’re not serious,” Liam told him.

“I’m not convinced of that. You really don’t have suspects?”

Liam shrugged. “Nobody in particular.”

“Ex-lovers?”

Liam focused on his coffee. “I haven’t had one of those for some time.”

“Family?”

“It’s just my sister and me, and we get along fine as long as she can pretend I’m not gay.”

Kurt’s fingers clenched around the coffee cup again. “This is a very intolerant period of history.”

Liam laughed, not unkindly. “It is all history to you, isn’t it? This is just another era to walk through. How odd to—”

“Stop trying to change the subject. Colleagues?”

“I’ve never had any problems. Anyway, the letters are all anti-university. Anti-technology. Unabomber-type stuff.”

“I’m not sure I trust the subject matter. Why send anti-technology missives to a history professor? It still feels personal to me. The one you got today talks about kidnapping you, Liam. That’s a very intimate threat.”

Liam groaned. “How the hell—”

“I read it while you were in the shower.” Kurt did look a little regretful, at least. “Look, I know you don’t like me being all— the way I am—”

“If I minded the vampire stuff, I’d never have agreed to work with you. What I object to is your being sneaky and intrusive on an entirely human level.”

Kurt seemed surprised, which was not a common look on him. He stared at Liam for a moment before saying, “Well, I object to being kept in the dark about your safety.”

“Kurt—”

They were interrupted by the ding noise that Liam’s computer made when he received an email. Normally Liam might ignore it, but at the moment, he welcomed the distraction.

The email was from a colleague in Germany, and as Liam read it, he forgot all about their argument. “Kurt,” he said, in an entirely different tone than the one he’d just used. Kurt was behind him in an instant, moving with that silent speed he had.

Liam traced his finger across the screen, aware that he wasn’t supposed to do that, but he hadn’t quite yet learned not to treat emails like they were pieces of paper. “Look at this. Someone found an arm bone with a flint arrowhead in the bank of the Tollense River in Germany. It’s not— it’s not a giant battle, not yet, just with one body, but it’s the right place, the right time. My colleague thinks this could be what we were looking for, and I think he’s right. Your earliest memory. Your origin. It could be Tollense.”

Kurt had knelt down so that he could read the screen more easily. When he turned his head it brought his mouth so very close to Liam’s. “You did it,” he said softly. “You found it.”

“Well, I didn’t find anything. Someone else—”

“But you put your neck on the line, theorizing about a battle in a time and place no one expected.”

“It’s not like I don’t have eye-witness evidence.”

“But no one knows that. You’ve endured a lot of controversy, trying to help me.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that. I care about—” Liam cut himself off before he could say it.

Kurt seemed to hear it anyway, because he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Liam’s.

It was a light kiss only for a few seconds, until Liam made an intensely hungry noise and Kurt responded to it, bringing his hands up around Liam’s face to hold him steady. Kurt deepened the kiss, sweeping into Liam’s open mouth with his tongue.

Liam had thought about a kiss like this, thorough and overwhelming, fantasized about it, wondered if it might happen someday because Kurt would read his mind and know how much Liam wanted it. But Liam was suddenly sure in that moment that Kurt could not read minds, or at least, that he’d left Liam’s to its secrets. If he had read it, he would have known not to kiss Liam. Because unlike the students Kurt sought out, Liam was already attached, far too much, to this utterly alien man who kissed with a technique undoubtedly honed over millennia, ranging from soft to strong all in a single lick of his tongue, instinctively knowing which parts of Liam’s mouth were most sensitive, and all with a kindness Liam had never before felt.

It was the kindness that made Liam put his hands up and push Kurt gently away. Liam didn’t want kindness at that moment, didn’t want Kurt offering this kiss out of gratitude or friendship, or because Kurt knew Liam was attracted to men and would probably enjoy it. Even because he was worried about Liam’s safety. Kurt was three thousand years old, and he’d no doubt live for many thousands of years after this. Liam’s lifespan was a drop of water in the river of Kurt’s life. Kurt had said it just this morning— he would never allow himself to get attached.

After the kiss broke, Kurt looked at Liam searchingly for a moment, and then moved away.

“We should— we should visit Germany,” Liam managed to say. Kurt just nodded.

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

The battle of Tollense is a real thing! Here is the wikipedia and another article.

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

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and DannyeChase.com (rated E), and Tumblr (rated T)

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

#Dannye writes #original fiction #serial fiction #tollense #vampires #romance

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fafulous · 4 years

Text

Take Me Home (1/5)

Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)

Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.

Themes: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS ((The series is following the BOOK ENDING and not Show)), Sad and soft Andy Barber, Single Mother Reader. Cursing.

a/n: I hope you guys like it. We all know Andy deserves some softness :’)

The one thing you cherished about your neighbourhood was its calming silence.

Away from the hustle and bustle of the 21st century fast pacers. It did not give you any force to lead a rush life. No matter how hard life was you enjoyed this serenity, just like your neighbours.

You were the only one relatively younger in your neighbourhood, for this place was normally owned by retired elderly after experiencing everything life had to offer. But for you and your three-year-old little son, it was a second chance at life. All your neighbours except for that one loner house beside you was occupied by retired veterans and war heroes.

But that soon changed.

A man by the name Andrew Barber had moved to the house beside you. You got to know one day when you saw a huge truck with people going in and out of the house with clean and neat furniture.

Seeing all that, your vivid imagination went running and tried to picture how this man would look. Judging by the furniture (which made no sense), you thought your new neighbour was someone who would be simple and felt it wasn’t going to be someone who was, you know, old.

Oh boy were you right.

Once those packers went by, you saw him.

Andrew Barber was nothing what you thought out to be. Tall and broad, his back muscles would tell you its own tale. From afar you noticed his biceps never failed him too, for his arms screamed whenever he went in and out with a huge piece of cardboard boxes. His facial hair was a bit messy, like he is just moving into his new abode right after a sloth nap. You weren’t sure but his blue eyes had a dull finish that were deep embedded in his sunken face.

You also took notice of his sleek black Audi A6 which was parked by his driveway; It was not easy to peel your eyes away from its beauty.

This was wrong. You’re a single mother with the most adorable kid you could’ve ever asked for. After a struggle of six months your son Nikolai and you have found a hint of stability; single parenting is never easy unless you get the hang of it.

And you did.

Before you could offer any refreshments, your neighbours beat you to it. They were too kind. They were the elderly parents whose snobbish kids only visited once a year. Hence you decided to fill the gap in their lives. They loved you and you loved them back.

So now you decided that maybe when the time is right, you could meet him in a day or two and get to know each other.

Right?

—

This was new for Andy. Very foreign too.

To live a life without Laurie and Jacob was something he never expected to happen after the trial. It’s been a good handful of weeks since it happened. He did not even have the heart to think more about his son. His eyes would cloud with tears and the whole day would go wasted in drowning himself in sorrow and liquor.

He was still mourning after all.

So he decided to move. Move away from his house that reminded of his 17 years of a marriage that only seemed successful, only for it go wrong in an impulse. Move away from all of the local tabloids that hinted at himself being a next murderer.

Move away from his unsuccessful lineage.

Scattered around him were boxes of his stuff at his new house, his stuff alone. Laurie’s stuff was nearly packed and sent away to her parents’ home, the last time he’ll ever associate himself with her family.

Yes, her family.

Andy did file for a divorce while she was in prison, but that was a long procedure until it became official. However hard it was to sign those papers; it was as hard to let go of Laurie. Because if he lets her go, he has nobody.

A lone sunken soul.

The packers truck got in half of his belongings, the remaining which will come tomorrow. It was difficult moving especially with one single person. His neighbours were all elderly, so surely, he could not ask anyone for help. Also, it was another reason he chose this locality, he could be alone while he knew he lived in a tightly knitted community filled with respected war veterans.

He was extremely taken aback when many of his neighbours offered him freshly cooked food and refreshments to get over the day. He was thankful. They knew about his past and still they accepted him and asked him to reach out if any help was needed.

Andy’s day went ahead unpacking his clothes first, which took his time. He wondered if he’d ever need the fashionable suits and ties, he wore to work. There was a job opening at a swimming instructor at the local community gym; all he needs are those Speedos. But nevertheless, he kept then all back, trying to keep his mind preoccupied in cleaning.

But all that effort seemed futile for every memory crashed down when he unpacked his wedding tux.

He felt too claustrophobic, buried his hand in his face. He no longer had a marriage. He no longer had anyone to look after.

He no longer had anyone to look after him.

But amidst all this chaos in his foggy mind, he hears a lovely toothy giggle of a child.

He peeks out of his window to see a young mother and her small son sitting in their backyard with a picnic spread in front of them, while the little boy kept tripping over the grass purposefully just so he could laugh and make his mother laugh too. Andy had no idea he had a middle-aged family living nearby.

Seeing you and the son spread this familiar warmth inside Andy, reminiscing how he had this. It reminded Andy of a happier time.

Soon to be replaced with anguish. He would never have that again. He missed feeling the warmth of family, the love of a wife. Life never really gave second chances he believed.

He noticed you, a caring mother placing the little one on your lap while you fed him all the scrumptious food. He didn’t fail to miss how your eyes shined with happiness. A happy woman is always a pretty woman at heart; it is something he used to tell himself. A soft chuckle left out of Andy’s lips as he saw the boy eat the food messily, but you seemed to be patient, responding lovingly towards his naughty antics.

Her husband is one lucky son of a bitch.

He could watch you two all day, but that would be extremely inappropriate. Right now, Andy wanted his newfound house to look like a home.

Next day went by and it didn’t seem like he was getting anywhere near getting his house ready. He was waiting for another truck to get more of his stuff while he sipped on some bear till the movers arrived. They unloaded most of his stuff at his lawn and went away.

“Need a hand moving those boxes?”

Andy turned around to a gentle voice of the same woman who had he had seen yesterday with the small child.

You.

A chilly afternoon, he wasn’t surprised you sporting a loose, fluffy knitted woollen pullover with black leggings. Your hair was tied up in a bun and then noticed that he was probably staring at you for a long time.

“Uh- No. I’m fine, thank you.”

But you kept standing there looking at him smirking. He was literally struggling to carry all those boxes “Your body language says something else.”

When he looked up you saw his sunken eyes with even more detail as though the man hasn’t slept in days, “Would I be desperate man if I said yes?”

You chuckled, “Not at all. I’m Y/N Y/LN.”

“Andrew Barber”, he stretched out his hand for a warm greeting with a firm handshake. The feeling of his rough palms sends small jitters to you, but you ignored it; and just like that you resumed.

You helped him lift the bigger boxes to his house even though you knew he carried most of the weight. Two could always get the work done sooner. Both of you didn’t talk much for these 20 minutes but it was a comfortable silence while both of you took sneaky glances at each other’s features.

When you neared him, you realized he was lot more than just handsome. Sunken face was holding two blue eyes that would be enticing if he had put any effort to put any life in them. His beard was neatly trimmed although scruffy, just like you saw yesterday.

Andy on the other hand was just too despondent to, you know, check you out. He thought you to be a beautiful woman with a kind heart, especially after seeing you and your son yesterday.

He even thought of asking you about your son and family, but that would be too intrusive he wondered.

Andy thought you’d leave after moving the boxes but you insisted you’d stay to help unpack his stuff and maybe cook some lunch for him since he didn’t even unpack his kitchen utensils out. He was ready to accept the help only for a second.

The Andrew Barber he knew before the events of the trial would have gladly accepted, maybe even made lunch for the beautiful lady, instead of you, who graciously offered him help. He was divorced now so there was nothing stopping him.

But do you really deserve a fresh start with a lady Andy?

Would she be here if she knew who you really were?

His mind was plagued. He moved here with the intention of a fresh start but, he wondered if anyone would actually accept him. He decided for himself that they wouldn’t.

“It’s alright Y/N. Thanks for your help.”

There was no way a man could set up his home all alone you thought. “Mr. Barber, are you sure? I really have no problem. I’m completely unoccupied at the moment. Besides Nikolai-”

“No.”

You blinked at his curt reply.

“I’m good Y/N. I can take care of the remaining stuff here. You can go now.”

Looking at him made you realise how conflicted he was. His words likely meant that he didn’t require your presence but his whole demeanour looked like just wanted some god damn company. He didn’t mind your help at first, but at the same time now he was pushing you away. What changed?

So much for making acquaintances with the new neighbour, you thought.

Without saying anything you stiffly nodded, Andy realizing the offence written all over your face, and saw you walk away from his abode closing his door politely.

It was probably for the best to keep distance from a kind woman like you. He knew you were trying to get acquainted with him like any normal person would, but Andy was firmly grounded that he and normalcy would never go back again.

The minute you left he opened another beer bottle to sink himself. This fresh start for Andy was just bullshit.

–

You rushed back the minute you closed Mr. Grumpy Cat’s door and made a beeline to your home, only to see your son playing on the countertop with one your elderly neighbour.

“Thank you, Mr. Arthur, for taking care of Nikolai. I hope he didn’t cause much trouble.”

“I’d do anything for you sweet pea, Nikolai was a sweetheart.” The old man chuckled and turned to leave, “By the way last weekend’s pot pie was delicious. I had to make it up to you.”

Returning a hug, you thanked your neighbour again and leaped your son in your arms, attacking him with kissed while he spurted giggles. “Mommy it tickles!”

“Guess what happened peaches? I met our new neighbour”

Nikolai clapped his hand “Mista Wandew Bahhba?”

Your son was hell bent on knowing the name of the newcomer after he laid his eyes on the stylish black Audi. Boys always know their toys.

You nodded, “He’s a grumpy man peaches. I have no idea what to do with him.” And just like that you began speaking with Nikolai. He was your only company to talk. He never really understood anything, but your talented son did a fairly good job of putting up a pretense to hear.

“I offered him help and he says yes. Then I kindly ask him if I can help him more, you know like cook homemade spaghetti. But instead he becomes snippy with me?”

“Woh no,” your son whispered to your exclamation, which in reality was for his superhero figurines falling on to the floor. “I like his cahr mommy.”

“So do I Niko, but I so do not like him,” you paused and gave him a kiss on the forehead, “Guess we’re the only sunshine in this neighbourhood peaches.”

—

Days went by and you rarely interacted with your new neighbour.

Oh and when it did, it really never went well for you.

The first time was when a few standard posts under the name of Mr. Barber arrived at your doorstep, since he wasn’t available at his house. Like any other hospitable neighbour, you signed the post and made sure to drop it by him when he gets back.

"Uh Mr. Barber the post man dropped this by at our doorstep since you weren’t available. I thought I should give it to you.”

Andy opened the door with a few knocks and saw you standing with a few posts in a fluffy cable knit sweater. He took the posts from you, gently brushing over your hands. He perused through them quickly and gave you that conflicted stern look.

“I appreciate it Mrs. Y/L/N, but next time I’d like to collect my own posts irrespective of its nature. You can tell them I can collect it from the post office”

Was this man for real?

You crossed your arms and gave him back that stern look too. He wasn’t going to get away without you throwing shade. “Oh you know Mr. Barber I was just trying to be a good neighbour. It’s not like I’m dying here to get associated with you.”

He gave you a nasty grin which triggered you to make you leave away from his threshold.

Andy thought for a moment that he already crossed the line with the wrong woman.

The next time you met him was probably the last time you would ever meet him.

Your shift at the library got too late, for you were the Librarian of the local Library. You didn’t have to worry much about picking up your son late for he was at Mr. Arthur’s.

But coming home realising that he was sitting on the front porch of Andrew’s house made you park your car haphazardly in your driveway and run up to your child, ignoring Andrew’s presence.

“I’m so sorry sweetie. What are you doing here Niko?”

Andy interrupted, “Mr. Arthur had to visit the hospital. He was catching the flu and he didn’t want to give it to Nikolai here.”

You didn’t want to meet his gaze, but you forced yourself for you were grateful for this kind gesture. Maybe this Grumpy Cat has a kind heart after all.

“Mr. Barber, thank you so much for taking care of Niko. My phone must’ve been on silent if Arthur wanted to contact me.”

“Oh, don’t thank me Mrs. Y/L/N. I am just filling in the gaps of irresponsible parenting.”

It felt like a blunt hit to your heart. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you heard me.” he whispered so closely that you could smell his musky deodorant with a hint of beer. Your son was out of earshot, sipping on a glass of lemonade that was probably offered by this man. “Trust me I know what happens to a child that is always kept away from their caretakers.”

He quickly went on to say how Nikolai was a special child when your son came near you both and how your family should take more care in your child. You never really listened for your eyes threatened to pierce with tears. No way were you going to cry in front of this man.

“Thank you Mista Wandi.”

“Anytime buddy.”

He went up and shut the door, like it was a personal aimed at you.

And you just stood there feeling numb while Niko tugged on your work coat.

“Let’s go home Mommi.”

The audacity to tell you how to be a parent. Did he even have a child? Does he even know how to it is to take care of a child single handed?

But those questions never mattered. No matter how positive you are in life, its never nice to hear someone spew your flaws on to your face.

Meanwhile minutes passed when Andy soon realised how he had royally fucked up. Everyday around 5pm you and your child would come along to the backyard and have a snack ritual while both of you played or read story books. For Andy, though he chided himself for his stalking behaviour, it brought him a sense of peace to see your son scream with shrills of laughter when he ran around the lawn.

He had nothing against you, yet he was being selfish.

I be mean to her; I stay away from here. Simple.

Today however, Nikolai sat facing away from his ypu munching on freshly baked cookies while you sported a tear stained face. He felt a twinge when he saw you staring straight ahead with a blank stare while tears rolled down. His heart successfully sunked when he saw Nikolai trying to wipe your tears and hug you. Andrew then sat down dramatically on his chair when he saw you breakdown into your son’s fragile shoulders.

Apologies wouldn’t fix this. It would, but Andrew Barber the resilient thought that being obnoxiously rude to someone he wants to be close to will make them hate him.

He never thought it would hurt you.

He decided not to take any efforts in an apology; or it could take more than an apology.

—

A few weeks passed by and you tried your level best and succeeded in avoiding banters with Mr. Grumpy Cat. Whenever you saw him, a flurry of rage fell over you. Was it your mistake you were trying to be friendly to your only attractive neighbour?

Strike out attractive. A mean soul was never attractive.

Andrew Barber on the other hand dreaded what had happened; he was a little too late to the party to realise that your house had no male inhabitant, except for that one man who had made a visit.

He soon deduced that you were a single mother.

Too late rather Andy.

And when he recalled what he had said to you, he wanted you to slap him in the face. Hard enough to have a bruise that lasted for a year.

Nikolai and you always woke up late on a weekend morning. Both of you always shared and slept in the same room for Nikolai had regularly occurring nightmares.

You never realised but you and Niko woke up a small commotion outside your house, or probably his house.

Plus, the other day it so happened Nikolai’s father paid a terribly long visit, pleading you to take him back into your life. He felt apologetic for what he did. But that lingering memory was soon cut off by Grumpy Cat’s voice.

Knowing his tendencies to irate his neighbours, (or maybe just you exclusively) you ignored it and began serving late breakfast pancakes for your son. But you soon stopped when you heard a loud, hoarse bellow.

“GET OFF MY LAWN!”

You looked outside of your window to see a bunch of vans and the reporters standing outside Andy’s lawn. Niko ran up to you and carried him over your hip for the little one heard the scary yell too.

Andy’s car was parked haphazardly on the pavement. A pair or more of reporters were taking pictures of him and his vandalised garage door.

“Oh my god.”

You put down Niko and asked him to play with his toys. Yes, you hated Andrew but what you saw on his now tainted garage door made you want to retch. It was such a distasteful thing to do. It appeared as if a spray can paint was used to write whatever it was on the door:

MURDERER, YOU WILL ROT IN HELL TOO.

Andy crouched down on his knees, his hands covering his face and ruggedly running his hands through his hair, while he kneeled down in front of the vandalism.

The very reason he moved away from Newton was now on his garage door.

You wanted to go out and help him, but your ego wouldn’t let you. Why should you help a man who was nothing but mean to you all this while?

Luckily enough you saw Mr. Arthur and a couple of his old friends admonishing the press. They threatened that this community was filled with retired war veterans and that they would charge them for community trespassing and disrupting the lives of people who have lost a limb and more for this country.

Hearing that threat made the desperate amateur reporters leave from the vicinity as soon as possible.

Andy stood up and tried to process this whole situation, looking around for any sort of help, only to lay his eyes on the faint image you from your window.

You expected him to shout and rage and ask you to fuck off from staring at his pitiful state. But he didn’t. You would never forget those embarrassed sunken eyes, silently pleading for help.

He didn’t deserve this. You have no idea about his past or who he was to garner such attention, but this was just cruel. He soon averted from your gaze and went on to thank his fellow elderly friends and made his way inside home.

Later in the evening, you caught Andy scrubbing the ugly writings with cloth and soap water. After a while, he took a few steps behind and saw that they words were still there but faded.

“I had some grey paint for Nikolai’s nursery, but never got the chance to do it.”

Andy turned to that sweet voice of yours and hesitated in meeting your gaze. He was embarrassed, for you stood there, giving out an arm to help him again despite his foul behaviour. He saw little Nikolai standing behind you with his shabby brown hair that reminded him of Jacob, clutching onto your legs while he peaked at him. He didn’t understand what you mean by the whole nursery thing, but he stood up and finally, both of you took in each other’s gaze.

Andy’s eyes were even more sunken than he had when he arrived, his blue orbs sunk in a sea of red. He must have been crying. He saw you were missing your feisty eyes that you always sported. Maybe it’s because you despised him so much.

“It’s not the exact colour of your garage door but it can do the trick I suppose.”

The second you handed over the paint to him, you quickly turned around to head towards your home. But Andy didn’t want to push you further anymore by being a dick. He was ready to apologise.

“Hey please listen up! I really am s- “

“No no no,” your voice trembled; this habit of crying while you were angry was just exasperating you wondered, “I think its best we don’t hold conversation Mr. Barber. This will be probably my last interaction with you; what happened to you was horrid and ugly. You don’t deserve that. That much I know”

Andy was hesitant, embarrassed. “Mrs. Y/L/N- “

“Quit calling me a missus! I am not even fucking married anymore-” you said drawing quotes in the air, to be interrupted by a little tug at your coat. You realised that your kid was standing next to you. And you swore in front of him. Great parenting.

“Oh Niko,” you picked him up and peppered him with a few kisses, “Sorry for that language. Mommy won’t swear again okay. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah”, the kid nodded and buried his head into your neck and hugging you tightly.

"Let’s go, sweetie. I’m done with this man.”

As you went away the little boy who was wrapped around over your shoulder waved with his short hands to Andy. To Nikolai, Andy was the one who had the coolest car and made the best lemonade (which he had when he was made to wait for his mom). He never really understood the intensity of adults’ arguments. He was just a grateful child.

It was only then Andy realised he had to make it up to you by any means for he stood there alone feeling like a real douchebag with a paint can in his hands.

—

Part 2

—

Taglist (IS OPEN): @sinner-as-saint @captainscanadian, @kakakatey @bluevelvetsam

@mrsbarneswillseeyounow

@anqelicstarc @lcandothisallday @https-bucky @readermia @chrisevansforever @ruthyalva96 @thedarkplume @sammyfresh @bloglovelylady @stuckys-dirty-girl @rindaastridfreakinreign @buckys-plums3 @marvelouspottering @sweetlittlegingy @emilykjhgsj @poppunkdork @bval-1lovepeacefood

@captainchrisstan @hista-girl @xlanawriter

@denisemarieangelina @xoxabs88xox @adreamemporium @yoncevans @oceanlenny @ididntchoosethislife @evansinlove @ninaminaromina @sodonutnutnut @nickysurfer28 @captainchrisstan @charmed-asylum @lovepeacefood @trashboggart

#Andy Barber #defending jacob #Andy Barber x Reader #Andy Barber Imagines #Chris evans x reader #chris evans imagines #defending jacob spoilers #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #chris evans #chris evans x you #andy barber imagine #andy barber angst #defending jacob finale #jacob barber #andrew barber

860 notes · View notes

ncssian · 4 years

Text

A Favor: Part Three

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: tw for abuse mention. i hope this chapter is readable bc a lot of it was written when i should've been sleeping.

***

“...expecting heavy snow, possibly even a snowstorm, by the end of the week.” The TV blares softly in the background as Nesta types away on her laptop propped on the arm of the couch. The fireplace is up and crackling, and Cassian has to stop in the threshold between kitchen and living room to take in the scene. He’s getting a little too used to this, he worries sometimes. She’ll be gone as soon as her apartment is fixed, he reminds himself, and pushes off the wall to circle the couch and approach Nesta.

He sets the steaming mug of coffee down on the table before her and takes a seat beside her. She doesn’t even stop typing as she glances up and murmurs a “thank you” before returning to her paper.

Cassian doesn’t want to interrupt her work, so he settles into the comfortable habit of watching her. They watch each other a lot— Nesta claims it’s because she’s bored and there’s nothing else to look at. Cassian has no such delusions.

She’s in a wool sweater and thick leggings today. Her hair is pulled back in a worn braid and her glasses are pushed all the way up her nose, but what catches Cassian’s attention tonight is the way her baby hairs escape her braid and frizz around her temples. Yesterday it was the way her cheeks flushed in the firelight, and the day before it was those damn glasses. Today it’s baby hairs.

The fantasy is quick and sneaky, there in his mind before he’s even aware of it.

Getting up to sit on the floor before her. Nudging her legs apart with slow hands while her fingers stutter over the keyboard. Pushing the hem of her sweater up, and pulling her leggings down. “Focus on your work,” he says when she tries to push her laptop away. “Finish your paper for me.” Tracing the inside of her thighs with his lips until his head is right—

The slam of a laptop snaps Cassian out of it. Nesta makes a frustrated growl and rubs her hands across her face before shoving her laptop aside to reach for the coffee.

He raises a brow, endlessly amused by everything she does. “Writing troubles?”

“I deserve a break,” she grumbles.

“I could help with that.”

Tucking her feet beneath her legs, Nesta ignores him and gestures at the TV with her chin. “Think we’ll get snowed in?”

Cassian almost hopes so. Any excuse to build more fires and stay inside with Nesta. “I’ll have to make a shopping trip,” he says casually. “You want anything?”

“I want to be in a state where there aren’t blizzards in October.” She looks over at him. “I miss Tennessee.” It’s a simple admission that brings Cassian to attention. She never gives out details about herself unprompted.

“I didn’t know you still got homesick.” Feyre never talks about her childhood in Tennessee. The only indicator of the Archeron sisters’ pasts is Elain’s sweet little Southern belle accent, which Cassian has a feeling is more for show at this point than anything else.

Nesta shrugs awkwardly in response, but he keeps going. “Rhys’s mom had a summer house in the Smokies. We would go down there each year without fail until college.” Rhys thinks it was fate that the summer home was so close to the small mountain town where Feyre grew up. Cassian thinks that’s a stretch.

“Yeah?” Nesta sips her coffee. “Have you gone back since?”

He shakes his head. “Rhys and Feyre are renovating it right now. You should come vacation with us when it’s done.” He perks up at the sudden idea.

Nesta gives him that familiar weird look from the corner of her eye. “Mm-hm,” she hums noncommittally.

“I’m serious,” Cassian insists. “We could have fun.” He’s already imagining it, getting to show Nesta around the place he grew up. Hearing what she has to say about the rocks and corners he would hurt himself on when he played with his brothers, maybe even hearing about her childhood in the Smokies. But Nesta looks stuck, unsure of how to turn him down.

“It doesn’t sound like a good idea,” she states finally. “I wouldn’t be welcomed there, and I would be the odd outlier the entire time at best.”

Cassian already knows Nesta has no interest in getting friendly with the rest of Feyre’s friend group, and he can respect that. But he still wants her there.

“You wouldn’t have to hang out with everybody there,” he says. “You’d have me and your sisters. That’s three whole people.”

She looks surprised at that. “Since when did I have you?”

Oh. Cassian shrugs. “We’re friends, right? I like you, so you have me.”

She straightens even further at that. He continues without waiting for her reply. “That’s why I want you to vacation with us. I like you, and I’d like having you there.”

Nesta sits back against the couch, staring at him, and then her coffee, then him. “This is new,” she finally says.

Cassian is lost. “What is?”

She considers for a moment, chewing her lip. “I’ve had people say they love me,” she says slowly, “but I don’t think anyone has ever liked me very much.”

The words are so incomprehensible that Cassian just sits there like a fool. She’s making even less sense than when she told him she used to come around to Feyre’s all the time and he never noticed. “I don’t get it. Who doesn’t like you?”

Nesta frowns deeply. “Don’t make me come up with a list. It’s not nice.”

Cassian might need a list, because he wants to have words with these people. “Okay, then. Why wouldn’t anybody like you?”

Nesta’s eyes narrow into a glare and she scoffs like he just said something offensive. “Jesus, I don’t know. Why don’t you call up my ex and ask if you care so much?” She sets her empty mug down and stands up, gathering her laptop and notes as she goes.

Cassian doesn’t know what he said wrong. “Wait, Nes—”

“Thanks for the coffee, I’m going to finish my work in my room.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and speedwalks out of the room, ignoring Cassian’s calls to wait.

***

Cassian can’t sleep that night knowing Nesta is upset with him. He tried knocking at her door when he came upstairs an hour after Nesta had, but the lights were off and he received no reply. Now in bed, he listens to the howl of late autumn wind outside and goes over everything Nesta said earlier.

She misses Tennessee. She feels that nobody likes her. She has an ex that definitely doesn't like her.

It's the last two details that bother Cassian the most. He’s about to spiral into another hour of overthinking when his phone lights up on the nightstand.

Subconsciously thinking it's a text from Nesta, his hand shoots for his phone. He has to smother his disappointment when he sees it's only Feyre checking in.

Feyre: how are things going with nesta? is she causing u any trouble?

Maybe he’s still upset about his conversation with Nesta, but the text rubs him the wrong way. Nesta sounds like a pet or a rowdy child.

Cass: not at all. she’s perfect

He quickly erases that last word and hesitates, trying to think of another one.

she’s lovely wonderful great. He settles on great and clicks send.

A reply pops up a few seconds later.

Feyre: lmao sure

Cassian frowns at his phone. What’s that supposed to mean?

Another text appears: just tell me if you need anything and i’ll take care of it. i know this isnt easy.

What isn’t easy? Having a roommate? Cassian replies, We don’t need anything, we’re fine. He uses capitalization and everything, feeling offended for some reason. And then, not really wanting to see a reply from Feyre, he turns his phone off and leaves it facedown on the nightstand.

He shuffles deeper under the covers and pushes his friend out of his mind, thinking about ways to make up with Nesta tomorrow instead.

***

Nesta stays up all night berating herself for how she reacted to Cassian’s innocent question. She wasn’t expecting him to pry for details because no one ever pries into her life, and she freaked out instead of rationally assessing the situation.

A part of her is satisfied now, having seen this coming from a mile away. It happens with everyone she meets, when she says or does something wrong and inevitably pushes them away. Maybe she should keep pushing him away, and keep him at arm’s length for the rest of her time here.

A larger part of Nesta is embarrassed at having caused a scene, and worse, mentioning Tomas. Because that’s exactly where her mind went when Cassian asked that question— to the man who used to say he loved her, but who never truly liked her. Intrusive memories from years past attack Nesta until the sky outside turns a light gray: dressing up for fancy business events and having his arm wrapped around her waist in an illusion of affection. Him pinching her side hard enough to make tears spring to her eyes when nobody was looking and leaning into her ear to lovingly whisper everything wrong with her that night. Going home and having makeup sex.

She’s still flustered from Cassian and can’t keep the thoughts out as well as usual. When she finally does drift off into a restless imitation of sleep, it’s by holding her thumb to her wrist until the steady beat of her pulse soothes her worn nerves.

Nesta wakes up cramping.

It takes her a few moments to pull out of the fog of sleep and recognize the feeling, and she groans aloud. This can’t be happening to her right now.

She was stupidly hoping that her period would hold off until she moved back into her apartment. Her premenstrual cramps are telling her she has two days at most.

She refuses to go through that experience in the same house as Cassian. Her family doesn’t even like being in the same house as her when she’s on her period. Her ex would outright leave their apartment and stay at a friend’s until she got over it. So this…

She groans once more and pulls herself out of bed. A quick phone check tells her it’s only been three hours since she fell asleep, but she’s given up at this point.

Nesta tiptoes hesitantly out of her room, not wanting to face Cassian just yet. It’s only when she reaches the stairs that she realizes the house is unusually quiet, even though it’s almost eleven.

Frowning, Nesta pads into the kitchen to find two things: a covered dish sitting on the island and a green sticky-note stuck to the fridge. She goes for the note first.

In messy handwriting it reads: Went out for groceries. Text me if you need anything. Beneath the words is a dark, almost furious scribble of ink, as if Cassian had written something there only to forcefully scratch it out.

Without overthinking it, she gets out her phone and texts Cassian that she needs pads. It only occurs to her after she’s sent the message that that’s probably not enough information.

Having Cassian know Nesta is on her period is one thing, but him knowing the size of her pad? The heaviness of her flow? She might need to enforce that rule about him never speaking to her again.

In her best attempt to not be viewed as a walking blood gusher, she asks for a smaller size pad than usual and turns her phone all the way off so she can’t see any replies.

Once you’re out of this house you’ll never have to see him again, so it won’t matter if you’re the rude bitch who cried and bled a lot while she was staying at his place.

Going over to the kitchen island, she uncovers the plate she assumes is for her. She isn’t expecting anything much, maybe Cassian’s leftovers from breakfast, so she hesitates when she sees a full stack of chocolate chip pancakes. Carefully decorated with berries and syrup, they’ve long gone cold, but— still.

Nesta reaches out as if they might not be real, or not meant for her, but nothing happens. Mouth tightening, she snatches the plate and grabs a fork.

Cassian comes in through the kitchen door twenty minutes later, long after Nesta’s cleaned off her food and washed the dishes in the sink. He throws her a smile as he shakes snow out of his hair and sets down the bags of groceries on the island by Nesta’s laptop.

“Oh, is it snowing already?” She throws a concerned glance outside, not having noticed while she was working.

“It’s light for now, but it won’t be for long.” He starts taking off his coat, and Nesta gets up to help with the groceries. She quickly finds the bag holding her stuff and discreetly sets it aside, but then Cassian grabs another bag and upturns it, its contents sprawling all over the island. “I don’t know what your period’s like, but we’re gonna be snowed in for a while so I got some of everything just in case.” He looks hesitant.

“Oh— thank you,” she says, overwhelmed. There’s three different types of painkillers, all that she already owns, and ten different types of junk food. And they're all for her. Nesta plucks up a package, stunned. “How are gummy worms supposed to help me on my period?”

Cassian leans his elbows on the marble and shrugs. “They’ll make you happy.”

“I’m allergic to gelatin.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

But Nesta just places the gummies in front of him and starts sorting the rest of the stuff. All the chocolates end up on her side, and the candies and gum and hot chips on Cassian’s side. When she's done, she finds him watching her closely. “Did you want some chocolate?” She offers out a Twix bar, her favorite. “I can trade you.”

“Uh, sure.” He accepts her Twix in exchange for his Hot Cheetos.

Silence ensues as Nesta tears open a Toblerone package and breaks off a triangle of nougat, when she remembers she has to tell him something.

“Thank you.” Her words are out of place and out of nowhere, spoken during the wrong time mark of a film and ruining the rhythm of the scene. Despite this, she powers on. “Thank you for breakfast, but also for this. Thank you for everything, really.”

Cassian perks up. “Did you like breakfast?”

Nesta nods through a mouthful of chocolate. “Chocolate chip pancakes are my favorite, and you’re good at making stuff.”

He raises a dark brow. “You mean cooking?”

“Same thing.”

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.”

Nesta slumps in relief, thinking her necessary talking points are over with. She's thanked him for shopping and for breakfast. What more could be— damn.

She clears her throat, even though she doesn't know what to say yet. She won't apologize— she doesn't know if she's physically capable of it, to be honest, but she can still seem regretful.

“Are we over last night?” she says bluntly. So much for regretful.

Cassian seems startled that she's even brought it up, which is perhaps a good sign that he already forgot about it. “Of course,” he says. “Nesta, I really didn't mean to offend you—”

Oh god, he’s not over it. “Don't apologize,” Nesta demands, throwing her hands up to ward him off. “You didn't even do anything, why would you apologize?”

“Well, you looked upset,” he says seriously. Cassian’s apologetic face looks an awful lot like hurt, though Nesta doesn't know why he would possibly feel hurt. Still, she has to pin her stare to the dark cabinets so he can't hurt her in turn. He keeps talking. “I know I promised to push your boundaries, but I never want to hurt you.”

His sincerity is more than disarming; it makes her ache.

“And I hated not talking to you last night.”

That gets Nesta's attention, and she suddenly feels two things at once: a swoop of joy that he likes talking to her, and a heavy drop of guilt that she ignored him all last night, even when he knocked on her door and apologized profusely.

“I fell asleep early,” she decides to lie. “I wasn't ignoring you.”

Cassian smiles softly and reaches out to brush a thumb over the tired circles under her eyes. “I can tell,” he says.

She's gone dead still, but she doesn’t flinch. She doesn't even want to flinch. Cassian clears his throat and drops his hand, and Nesta’s eyes follow him closely. “We’re good,” she says in finality. “Let’s go back to normal now.”

Cassian nods, his face carefully blank. “Okay. Then stop stuffing your face and help me with the rest of the groceries.” He moves off the island and elbows her on the way.

That makes Nesta smile, which makes Cassian smile even harder, and just like that, they’re back to normal.

***

a/n: two things: 1) cassian definitely texted feyre that morning and asked what nesta’s favorite breakfast was, and 2) can you tell im in love with writing nesta archeron?

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08

#a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ncssianwrites #nessian fic

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clandonnachaidh · 3 years

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The Fireballs

Read on AO3

“Just take them and get away from the central belt for a while. It’s nae too far.”

Those were the words that left Geillis McKenzie’s lips as she pressed an unfamiliar set of keys into the palm of the woman sat across from her. Claire Beauchamp sat, chewing the inside of her cheek while she mulled it over. The offer on the table was simple enough. A week off work and a change of scenery in an attempt to wipe the bastard memory of Frank Randall from her mind. She would leave Glasgow and head to another part of the country, barricading herself inside a seaside cottage with enough food and wine to see in the new year in blessed peace and quiet. Her resolution for the burgeoning 365 days would be drunkenly pronounced to an empty room before fastening her fingers around the neck of the wine bottle, relishing in the sweet oblivion it promised.

It was a tempting prospect and the truth was, she was dreading the idea of spending New Year’s Eve in the flat that now sat practically empty after Frank had removed his belongings.

A few days after she took the keys from Geillis, Claire found herself in the small seaside town of Stonehaven in Aberdeenshire, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck as the bitter wind nipped at any uncovered flesh. She thumbed through the information that Geillis had texted her earlier that day, a surprisingly cohesive set of directions to bring Claire from the platform at the train station to the bright purple door of Geillis’ childhood home that now stood in as a place for her to escape to.

Thankful that she didn’t have to drag her wobbly-wheeled suitcase any further, Claire pushed the door past the collection of food menus and pamphlets announcing the next local councillor surgery that littered the doorstep and found herself to be pleasantly surprised with the room that she found herself in. Geillis was fastidiously minimalist in her home, all sleek black furniture and not a single piece of clutter in sight. The quaint seaside cottage that she’d grown up in was anything but minialist. The wooden floorboards were warped with wear and tear, a sneaky bump that had been hidden under a thread-bare rug almost sending Claire flying onto the couch. There was a huge stone fireplace in the centre of the living room but Claire had no idea how she would go about setting it to keep her warm all through the evening. Poking around a bit, she easily found a small kitchen with a huge navy blue Aga stove and a downstairs loo. Geillis had explained that the main bedroom was up a particularly rickety flight of stairs and Claire found herself sweating from the exertion of having to haul her suitcase up them. She quickly set herself to unpacking the few bits of clothing that she’d brought, opened the bedroom window to to let in some fresh air and arranged all of her toiletries in the small ensuite bathroom before jumping into the shower.

Feeling slightly more rejuvenated after scrubbing the travel grime from her skin, Claire heard her stomach rumble in protest. She hadn’t had anything since the hastily grabbed pastry that took her fancy when she ordered her coffee before getting on the train. She remembered that Geillis had drunkenly proclaimed, more than once, that the fish and chips from the local shop in her home town were the best in Scotland and so, Claire grabbed her purse and set off to find it.

Surprised that the streets were quite as busy given the cold sea wind, Claire allowed herself some time to stroll down to the harbour in search of battered haddock soaked in vinegar. It was a good sign that the small shop was queued out the door when she finally found it. She withstood a small wait before placing her order and moving back outside, waiting for her name to be called. She looked out at the sea, forearms set against the weather-beaten wooden fencing that separated the beach from the road and took in a deep lungful of sea air as the wind whipped her curls across her delicate skin.

Someone with lungs big enough to be heard over the wind called her name and she collected her order with a smile, her mouth watering at the smell. There was nobody there to stop her or, God forbid, ask her to share and so she delicately unwrapped the paper and sourced a single, salty chip.

Another voice drifted over the wind and something about it made her look for the source.

“Ye dinna want tae be daein’ yon, quine, the scurry will be awa’ wi’ yer chips!”

That was when she saw him for the first time. His red curls were moving wildly in the air as he sent her a dazzling grin, showing off a set of straight white teeth. His nose was crooked, obviously broken a good few years ago but it gave him a rakish air that Claire found quite charming. The piece de resistance was a pair of bright blue eyes, squinting at her in humour as he fished his car keys out of his pocket.

Despite having lived in Scotland for a number of years, not to mention being around Geillis whose speech became almost unintelligibly broad as she moved through different states of inebriation, Claire’s brain could barely attempt to untangle the mess of vowel sounds and dropped g’s that had carried over the wind in her direction.

There was only one thought in her mind.

What the hell was a ‘scurry’?

The redhead seemed to be taking no small amount of pleasure from having put her on the back foot. His large frame shook slightly as he chuckled, quite pleased with himself, as he slid himself neatly into his small car despite his gargantuan size. Just as Claire was away to dismiss him as some lout, he rolled down the window, trying to give her what Claire thought might have been intended as a wink as he shouted his parting shot over the rising gusts of wind.

“Hae a rare Hogmanay, quine!”

***

“…and with only an hour or so left until the bells, we hope that you’ll stay tuned to BBC Scotland this Hogmanay as we bring you all the best entertainment!”

Claire sat, idly clicking the buttons on the remote as she moved from one channel to the next, not actually paying attention enough to settle on any one thing. She was wrapped up in the sofa under a thick tartan blanket after her attempt at setting the fire had proved fruitless, as she knew that it would. She felt bad for the kindling that she’d wasted in her attempt to get it going but she figured Geillis wouldn’t mind too much.

With a mind of its own, her hand sought her mobile from its space on the couch beside her. Even though she knew it was a bad idea, she opened the usual apps to see that everyone else seemed to be having a great time at various functions and house parties, all sporting alcohol-induced rosy cheeks and arms slung across shoulders of friends that they had spent the whole year bitching about. She counted her blessings that at least she didn’t have to put on any fake smiles, gritting her teeth through another painfully pleasant evening with Frank and his colleagues.

No, Claire Beauchamp was quite happy to be sat on her own, a belly full of deep fried goodness and a glass of her favourite Chablis in her hand which she delighted in pouring down her throat.

“Next to perform on The Hootenanny, please welcome Idles!”

Thumb pressed firmly on the big red button, the screen on the tv reduced itself to black.

Silence descended over room.

If she hadn’t drained the contents of her wine glass mere seconds before, Claire would have thrown the liquid into the air as a series of loud bangs came from the front door.

Before she could figure out what was going on, the bangs turned into shouting.

“Here, Duncan, open yer fuckin’ door! I’m dyin’ fer a pish!”

Claire pulled the blanket from her legs and got to her feet, feeling irritated at the stranger’s apparent lack of manners. Another few bangs and her worry morphed into anger as she stomped towards the door and arranged her delicate features into the sternest face she could manage.

Unbolting the lock, the wrenched the door open ready to give the stranger an earful.

But there was no face in her eye line to angrily confront. Only a pair of broad shoulders.

The glow from the streetlights creeped its way over the meridians of his almost too large body. Claire’s immediate view was of the man’s chin, slightly dusted with an orange gold smattering of hair, before he ducked down so that he could see underneath the lip of the smaller than average door.

Electric blue eyes, slanted with an air of mischievousness about them. Eyes that had surprised her when they drifted into her thoughts on her return from the chip shop.

“Oh,” he frowned. “It’s you.”

She raised a single eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest, “It’s me.”

“Yer nae Miss Duncan. Fars Geillis?”

He took a step back, allowing her to take in more of him now that he wasn’t cramped into the confines of the small door.

Quickly, she realised that she was staring. And that she hadn’t answered his question.

“In Glasgow. And she’s Mrs Geillis McKenzie now.”

“Och, I ken that fine well enough, ’twas one of my uncles that she married. Although she’ll always be wee Geillis Duncan tae me.”

Claire found herself relaxing a bit to hear that the man wasn’t a completely stranger. Geillis had never mentioned Dougal having any nephews and Claire couldn’t see any family resemblance between Geillis’ husband and the man stood in front of her. Dougal was bald and average height, not anything to write home about. Whereas this man was quite the opposite.

“If you’re aware that she lives in Glasgow, why are you knocking on her door?”

“Saw the light was on,” he frowned as though I had asked the stupidest question possible, shifting from one foot to the other.

There were a few seconds where neither of them offered up any words, waiting for the other to speak first.

When Claire realised that the man was looking at her expectantly, she had to ask.

“Can I help you with something?”

He really tried his best not to blush but failed miserably, “Aye, ye may have heard but ye find me requirin’ the pleasure of utilisin’ yer loo.”

Suddenly the hopping from one foot to the other made more sense. Trying her best not to laugh at his predicament, Claire crossed her arms over her chest and hoped that he would understand the universal symbol of ‘not a chance in hell’.

“Call me crazy but I don’t think I’m going to let an inebriated stranger into the house that I’m staying in, in a village that I don’t know.”

“Am no’ inebriated, I’ve only had a few pints. And as for stranger, any friend of Geillis is a friend of mine.”

Claire rolled her eyes dramatically at the cliche, not convinced in the slightest.

“Well, I’m sure you can find somewhere else.”

The expression on his beautiful face changed from one of mischievous banter to one of grave seriousness.

“Well, I’m guy sorry tae dae this, Sassenach, but I’m afraid I’ll hae tae report ye tae the authorities.”

“Excuse me?”

“’Tis the law in Scotland. If someone knocks on yer door and needs in for a pish, ye have to oblige them.”

“I bloody well do not!” Claire shouted, exasperated. “What absolutely bloody nonsense!”

“‘Bloody nonsense’, she says!” The man countered, grinning wolfishly as he attempted to mimic her English accent.

Her anger was growing by the second, seeing red at his mockery and trying to get up the courage to slam the door in his beautiful face. She would’ve too if she wasn’t glued to the spot, unable to tear herself away from the maddening, handsome, stupid, charming man.

“Yer hospitality is lacking, Sassenach. And on Hogmanay an’ aw.”

Claire’s patience snapped. This man would not make her out to be some uptight English woman. She had heard the term ‘sassenach’ a few times since she moved to Scotland and it had never been said with kindness behind it.

“Fine! You can come in but as soon as you’ve, er… relieved yourself, you must leave.”

“On my honour,” he said solemnly as he raised both hands in supplication.

Claire stepped out of the doorway to let him duck inside and she opened her mouth to explain which door lead to the lavatory when he moved through the small living room with purpose. Of course, she remembered, he knew Geillis. He’d probably been in here more than once.

She watched as his back disappeared behind a now locked door and pondered the idea that that if he knew Geillis, he couldn’t be that bad. If there was one thing that Geillis Duncan nee McKenzie was skilled at, it was taking the measure of someone from a single look. At the very least, the man wouldn’t be dangerous.

And he was rather beautiful. Arrogant but in a way that endeared him to her. Finding that her fingers had a mind of their own as they began to smooth out her curls, Claire looked around the room and embarrassment creeped its way insidiously into her body.

While the world was celebrating the new year, here she was, sat alone in an otherwise empty house with a coffee table covered in discarded fish supper paper, an already empty bottle of Chablis and a box of chocolates that had been dipped into more than a few times. Across the world everyone would be getting on their party outfits while she wore her favourite cosy leggings and big thick socks with her favourite knitted jumper. Anything but glamorous.

With that realisation in mind, the room before her morphed from a scene of quiet solitude to pitiful isolation.

She had been run out of her city by the mere memory of Frank and that enraged her even further.

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, you prick,” she muttered exasperatedly, unbridled rage filling her from head to toe.

“Again, I apologise fer disturbin’ ye. But thank ye for lettin’ me inside.”

His voice made her spin on her heel.

“Oh, I didn’t mean—“ she began before deciding it was best to not delve into her dirty laundry with a perfect stranger and sent him a tight, resigned smile.

He made to move towards the door, his head slightly bowed from either humility or inebriation, Claire couldn’t decide on which.

For some reason, she felt disappointed at the thought of him leaving.

“So, any other strange and unusual customs I should know about before you leave? Is a man going to knock on my door in five minutes asking for only my left shoe?”

The man paused and turned around to face her again, his lovely face shining out a look of mischief and excitement.

“Well, I canna say that we’re nae kent for our strange and unusual customs but I think the fireballs are the only other thing ye’ll hae ti’ deal wi’ the night.”

For a moment she thought that she’d had too much to drink. Had the man really just said the words ‘fire’ and ‘balls’ as though they were the most normal things to come out of someone’s mouth?

He noticed her gormless expression.

“Surely ye’d hiv seen the High Street being cordoned off for the night?”

“I haven’t been to the High Street.”

It was his turn to balk.

“Ye came tae Stoney on Hogmanay and shut yersel’ inside? Geillis didnae think tae tell ye?”

“For the love of God, tell me what?”

He smiled a wry smile, “When the clock gets tae midnight, about 40 folk will walk down the High Street swingin’ massive balls of fire around their heids. All the way through the auld toon and then down tae the harbour.”

When Claire didn’t answer, he dug his hands into his pockets, straightening his arms so that he stretched to full height, the top of his head almost hitting the low ceilings.

“It’s an old Viking thing,” he said with a straight face.

Subconsciously, he flexed the muscles of his shoulders and back, taking up even more space. He really was very large.

Viking indeed.

He jerked his left shoulder up slightly and tried to seem nonchalant as he said, “Usually I swing one masel’ but I dislocated ma shooder earlier in the month and it’s only jus’ healed. Shame otherwise I could’ve gied ye a shotty, get ye the best view over the crowd.”

“I’ll pretend I understand a word of what you just said and bid you goodnight,” Claire said firmly as she shifted her weight towards the door, trying her hardest to appear aloof in front of a man that she was fast forming an attraction to.

The Viking surveyed the state of the living room and looked back at her from underneath his eyelashes.

“Havin’ a quiet een, are ye?”

“Yes. I needed a break from the city. I work with Geillis and she was kind enough to let me borrow her place for a few days to get some peace and quiet.”

He gave her a cheeky grin at that, “And then here a stranger comes, crashin’ intae yer front door.”

He put his hand to his chest and smiled kindly at her before bowing his head slightly.

“My maist sincere apologies tae ye…?”

“Claire Beauchamp.”

“Weel, it’s affa fine tae meet ye, Claire,” he said as he pressed a thumb into his chest. “James Fraser.”

“How do you do?” she nodded her head in acknowledgement of his introduction and tried her hardest not to get lost in his eyes.

Looking into his eyes was like looking into the heart of the sun.

Jamie narrowed them at her with a smirk and Claire felt herself blush slightly.

“Yer affa posh tae be a friend of someone as debauched as the one and only Geillis Duncan. Ye said ye work thegither?”

“Yes, we do. I’m a surgeon as well. And I promise, there is nothing posh about me,” Claire scoffed.

He looked at her again, closely, and Claire could practically see the cogs of Jamie’s brain working as a plan came together.

Even though she had failed to light the fire, she could swear that there were flames dancing in his eyes.

“Ye ken, if ye wanted me tae believe ye werenae posh, ye’d dae somethin’ spontaneous.”

Claire was surprised to find that his words sent a shiver down the back of her spine. She couldn’t put her finger exactly on what she was feeling but she knew it felt good.

“What exactly do you mean?”

Jamie took a step towards her, casting another glance at the coffee table of sadness and then settling his eyes on the front door.

“Take a turn aroon the toon wi’ a manny ye’ve jus’ met? Canna be by yerself on Hogmanay, Doctor Beauchamp.”

The offer had been made and Claire knew that she’d be mad to pass it up. She pretended to think it over, lips pursed in fake contemplation as she waited what she felt was an appropriate time to not seem too eager.

“Might as well see these fireballs, I suppose.”

His smile split his face in two and Claire couldn’t help but feel her stomach flip.

“Ace. Weel, we can get going? It’s only an hour until the bells.”

Claire tried to seem casual as she asked for a moment to change into something more appropriate for the outdoors and quickly extricated herself upstairs.

Standing in the middle of the bedroom, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and panicked.

Her mind was completely blank as she tried to flick through the items that she’d brought with her, trying to come up with something that hit the perfect balance of sexy and comfy. Frustration building, she grabbed her phone and shot a text to the woman who was responsible for all of this.

Claire: James Fraser, alright enough guy?

Geillis: Christ, nae wasting any time, are ye?

Claire: Shut up. Anything I should know?

Geillis: He’s an arse man!

Geillis: Nae many better ways to start the new year than a shag with a ginger god!

Claire: Very helpful, thank you. I don’t know why I bother, you are no use at all!

Geillis: Och wheesht, you love me really.

Geillis: For real, Jamie is a sweetheart. We’ve been pals since we were bairns. You’re in good hands.

Geillis: Affa good hands 😏

Claire huffed a laugh at her best friend and quickly pocketed her phone into her jeans, stripping off her leggings and jumper.

As quickly as she could, she dug around in her suitcase for the single pair of jeans that she’d brought with her. Thankfully they were the black ones that hugged her arse perfectly. She grabbed a plain white t-shirt and her favourite burgundy cardigan before she realised that it was too long and would effectively hide the said perfect-arse-in-these-jeans situation.

Resigning herself to an evening of being frozen stiff, she decided against the warm winter jacket that was hiding downstairs and grabbed her trusty leather jacket.

Thankfully her reflection in the mirror showed that the jacket stopped just above the line of her hips, allowing the jeans do their all important job.

“Doctor Beauchamp?”

She moved towards his voice, opening the bedroom door and quickly closing it behind herself so he wouldn’t be able to see the mess that it hid.

“Please call me Claire,” she implored.

“I like calling ye Doctor, ’tis…”

“What?”

“Och, nothin’.”

Claire raised an eyebrow, “Spit it out.”

She could swear that she saw him blushing as he rubbed the back of his neck with an open palm, looking her straight in the eye.

“Sexy.”

The single word was said with such obvious flirtation behind it that she couldn’t stop the rush of heat and need that spread through her body. But the wine had made her bold and she decided to give as good as she got.

Without responding to him, she crossed the room and put her hand gently against the small of his back as she made it to the front door and pulled her boots on.

She heard three heavy footsteps and then he was behind her, so close that she could feel his steady breath.

A large arm circled around her body, grazing her waist ever so slightly as he went to grasp the doorknob.

“Let me get that fer ye, Doctor Beauchamp,” he whispered into the mess of curls that were tickling his nose as Claire resisted the urge to close her eyes and lean back further.

Shaking her head slightly to try and dispel the haze that had come over her, she tried her best to keep her voice from trembling, “Lead the way, Mr Fraser.”

Once they were out in the cold air, Claire could see why Jamie had made fun of her for not noticing the preparations earlier in the day. The entirety of the small village was alive with light and music and bodies. Doors were propped open to allow for a steady stream of people coming in and out of pubs and homes alike, shouts and laughter filling the air with sound. The colourful lights that were still strung up from Christmas glistened against the wet pavements but thankfully the rain had passed and was on its way north towards the city, leaving a cool freshness to the air. Children scurried around with their parents, thick mittens and hats almost falling off at every opportunity and as they turned towards what Jamie had called the Square, Jamie grasped Claire’s hand in his own so they wouldn’t get separated in the crowd that seemed to be every resident of Stonehaven and then some. Claire couldn’t help the huge grin on her face as Jamie expertly navigated the both of them through the community, returning well wishes and clapping a few people on the back in greeting.

She was completely entranced by it all. Even though she was new to Stonehaven, people hugged her in greeting and raised their drinks, offering sentiments that she didn’t quite understand but could nevertheless feel the warmth that they were uttered with.

“Aye Jock! Fit like en?”

“Aye aye, loon, nae bad, nae bad!”

When they made it to a spot that apparently promised the best view of the procession, Jamie made sure that his massive frame wasn’t blocking the view for any children and spotted an old friend.

“Alright Jamie! Foos yer doos?”

Shaking the man’s hand firmly, Jamie gave what Claire assumed was a response to the nonsense question he’d just been asked.

“Aye, a’wis pechin’!”

Claire couldn’t concentrate on the rest of the conversation that was going on between the two men. She was much too preoccupied with the fact that Jamie was stood so close to her, his chest resting against the length of her arm. Even the small amount of pressure being shared between the two bodies was enough to make Claire’s head spin. Not to mention the heat radiating off the man even though it was easily below freezing out in the night arm. A frisson of energy that she could not put a name to coursed through Claire’s limbs and she jerked, accidentally elbowing Jamie in the ribs.

Ending his conversation, he turned to her sharply.

“Fit wis that fer?!” he exclaimed in mock outrage.

She tried her hardest not to laugh at the pout on his face.

“I’m pretty sure you’re just making up these words to make fun of me. Honestly, ‘foos yer doos’?”

Jamie laughed, air bursting from his lungs and turning into soft curls of mist in the dark. Claire felt the vibrations move through her body, tingling in her own extremities.

“’Tis a common greetin’ roon these parts, Sassenach,” he put his hand on the small of her waist and turned her towards him, eyes glimmering. “Take a guess fit it means.”

“I have no idea,” she said primly as she accepted the proffered hip flask from Jamie’s hand.

She realised that she wasn’t the only one aware of the charge between them when she saw his eyes darken at the sight of her bring the flask to her lips. He didn’t know but seeing it made Jamie’s tongue dart out to moisten his lips.

Claire took a small drink of the whisky that flooded her mouth, already feeling a little more than intoxicated after the bottle of wine and the arrival of a certain ginger Scot.

“I’ll gie ye a hint, it’s tae dee wi’ birds.”

Her features scrunched in confusion, “Human or avian?”

“We dinna call women ‘birds’ around here, we call them ‘quines’.”

“That’s not an answer to my question.”

He rolled his eyes at her, unable to keep the smile from his lips, “Another hint is that up here in the northeast, we replace our W’s wi’ F’s.”

She sent him a death stare that hopefully conveyed the message of ‘stop-taking-the-piss-out-of-me-or-I-will-empty-the-contents-of-that-flask-over-your-head’.

Thankfully, he seemed to take pity on her, “Foos yer doos is how we ask folk how they’re deeing. It translates to ‘how are your pigeons’?”

“Pigeons?!” she laughed incredulously. “You ask people about their pigeons?!”

Before he could answer, the clocktower rang its first bell to signal that midnight had been struck. A cheer could be heard from further up the High Street as the first fire ball started to make its journey towards the water.

Claire had never seen anything like it. Men and women dressed in kilts, their feet clad in sturdy shoes as they swung huge balls that had been set ablaze in a beautiful arc around their head. It was the perfect heady mix of awe and fear as they made a great ‘whoosh’ every time the fire almost kissed the ground. The darkness of the night made them shine all the more brightly and Jamie bent down to Claire’s ear so she could hear him over the excitement of the crowd.

“Yer hair is affa bonnie in the firelight, Doc,” his voice sent shivers down her spine. “Mo nighean donn.”

She didn’t know what it meant, didn’t care really. She just knew that she wanted to hear him say it again and again.

Claire seized the opportunity and pushed herself back firmly against his chest, taking his hands in hers and bringing them to wrap around her body in invitation. She hoped that she hadn’t massively misread the situation but her worries were assuaged when he tucked her head neatly under his chin and sighed in relief.

They watched as the spectacle continued but both of them would have been more than happy simply standing there, holding each other.

The bells finally chimed their last, signalling that it was now officially Hogmanay.

Claire refused to move from the safety of his arms but craned her neck up to look at Jamie whose full attention was on her.

“Happy New Year, Jamie,” Claire whispered, her heavy breath mingling with his own.

“Happy Hogmanay, Claire.”

Jamie’s head dipped, closing the space between them and pressing his lips against hers, deciding that his wish for the coming year would be to never part from the woman in his arms.

#the fireballs #clandonnachaidh #outlander fanfic #outlander #jamie fraser #Claire beauchamp #stonehaven #aberdeenshire #northeast scotland

114 notes · View notes

rubixfox-fanblog · 3 years

Text

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: General audience

Fandom: Apex Legends

Characters: Seer, Octane and Mirage. (and other legends.)

Additional tags: Seer Out of character

Words: 2864

Summary: Octane accidentally revives Seer with stim, instead of the regular syringes they normally use, and Mirage has to deal with both of them.

Notes: finally managed to finished my fanfic and gathered the courage to post it.... Enjoy!

Tumblr note: I got my inspiration from @sweetsoftandscared. You should definitely check them out!

"This is one of the worst ideas you had since the start of this match, Silva."

"Come on Amigo, that entire sneaky stuff got me bored. Even perfect boy here almost fell asleep. We all need some action."

"Speak for yourself, I was having the time of my life!"

~~~

Seer, Octane and Mirage ended up together as a squad in the dropship. Heaven knows why. It's a squad based on the amount of disaster, instead of skill, these three would bring. Especially octane and Seer, those two definitely had a history together. But no one knows (yet) why, Well Rampart definitely knew but she wouldn't tell anyone about them.

Their battle location this time was in Olympus and their dropship flew in at the Bonsai Plasa. Seer was the one who took the lead as jumpmaster and made sure he landed at the Oasis. Everyone else already jumped earlier or later so they got all of the world to loot or observe the area.

That's where it all went wrong.

After a few minutes of gathering guns and supplies, Octane got bored (like always.) and decided to take his own lead, running off to the place where small houses gathered, the place called estates.

Seer tried to stop him, because he noticed the heartbeats of at least 3 other legends. But Octane being octane, he didn't listen at all. Throwing his jump pad in front of the other two legends, who were chasing him, launching them both,unexpectedly, in the middle of a heated battle.

Two squads

Two whole squads.... Well basically one and a half, since there was only one of the three left. So that makes one and a third. I wait, one squad. (they downed the last one while they landed)

The three legends of the remaining squad seemed to be Revenant, Wraith and Loba. Who Already noticed them as they landed on top of the middle building.

~~~

"How about you two just quit whining and just go for it already, if we keep standing still we'll be dead in no time!" Octane responded as he bounces up and down.

A deep, disappointed, sigh escaped Seer's mouth as he pulled out his gun.

"I stay here. Mirage, create distraction but watch out for Revenant. Octane, do what you want." Seer didn't seem to try to give Octane instructions, he just let him wreck havoc so he could focus on his enemy's in front of him.

As they both took off and followed orders, Seer released his tactical called: focus of attention. The micro stones formed a tunnel straight into the building in front of him, revealing two of the three enemies they're about to fight.

Wait, two?

His slight distraction caused his downfall as he didn't notice that Loba used her jump drive. Her bracelet flew straight above his head and ended up behind him.

"I'm sorry, my love. But I really need to win this match. That tin Demon out there promised me that I could kick off his head if we win." Loba said and the moment Seer tried to turn around she already shot him a few times in the chest.

But Loba's action didn't go unnoticed because as soon as she downed Seer, she received a few bullets as well from Mirage, standing on top of the roof from the other building Seer focused his attention on.

"You're welcome." Mirage yelled.

"I downed Wraith, she was too slow for me to escape." Octane cackled as he returned from god knows where.

Revenant was the only one left.

Seer made his way down towards the ground, hoping Mirage would pick him up but at that very moment, Revenant's Tactical landed exactly where Seer ended up, underneath the stacked buildings.

Also Mirage apparently got hit as they heard the cracking sound.

"You gotta help him, Octane. I'll cause a distraction.". irage announced. He didn't get hit by the tactical bomb yet so his abilities still worked. Making sure Revenant would focus on him and his 7 other decoys.

Octane didn't hesitate and quickly grabbed one of his revive needles and stabbed directly into Seer's chest.

Wait a second.

Why did that needle say Simulacrum? Did he accidentally swapped the needles this morning? Was that the reason why Lifeline said he looked Healthier than before? So many questions, such a little time.

"I could use a little help here!" Mirage cried out, who's struggling not to get hit by Revenant's Longbow. Who's hiding in one of the houses behind them.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm com....."

Boom

A clean shot between the eyes ending Revenant's life in an instant.

"What in the name of..."

Did another squad that joined the fight? No, nobody was there except the three of them.

"What's wrong?" Seer said, holding a 301 assault rifle in his right hand, without a scope nonetheless while his left hand still got a hold of one of Octane's hands, pulling the downed man back on his feet.

"Did you just shoot him?" Mirage said.

"Why, yes. You needed some help right? So I provided that help."

Octane tried to pry Seer's hand open, but the taller man was holding it fiercely for somehow no reason.

"Amigo, please, let go of my hand. I don't think Che would be happy if I lost my hand as well. " He said, not paying attention to the kill at all.

Seer spaced out for a few seconds, staring directly at Mirage. Poor Eliot started to back up in response as he felt really uncomfortable right now.

Until he suddenly snapped back to reality and pulled away from Octane's hand. Then he decided to turn around and just started to run?

"The next ring is not far." Seer started. "Come, let's go."

Octane caressed his hand like it's been stuck in a bear trap and raised an eyebrow, underneath his goggles of course, as he watched his teammate run forward. Did the stim give him super sight? Or did it give him super focus? Whatever it was, Octane became jealous.

"What did you do?" Mirage suddenly asked , like he could see Octane's expression under his mask. "There's no way a normal human being could hit someone at that distance."

"I guess it's just luck, Amigo. Something you could use as well." Octavio clearly avoided the question. "Like he said, The ring's coming, try to keep up as well, 'kay?" He said and the another jump pad to catch up with Seer

"Wait, what?" Mirage said confused as he turned around and noticed the red wall of death coming up to him very quickly.

"Don't go without me!"

They finally managed to catch up with Seer, who stopped moving for a second, close at the Hammond labs. He rubbed his temple as he looked at Octane.

"You used the wrong syringe, did you now?" He suddenly said.

"Are you alright, Amigo?"

Seer didn't hesitate for a second and pointed his R301 directly at Mirage, who ducked away in an instant, just to shoot a legend who sneaked up behind him.

"I'm fine, totally. Nothing wrong with me at all." he quickly added and refused to continue at what he just asked. He didn't have the concentration at all to be mad at Octane right now.

"Dude! Watch out where you point that thing!" Mirage said, almost screaming as he panicked. "don't ever do that..."

Seer pushed his index fingers to his lips as an indication for Mirage to shut up.

"The two remaining legends are still on the other side of the wall. I'm going in." The taller Brown man didn't even wait for one then to make the first move, he just took off.... Again.

"phew." Octane let out a relieved sigh. Ignoring Mirage, who clearly looked at him like he saw water burning. "Let's go, we can't let him die alone."

By the time they catch up again, Seer was kneeling down by one the deathboxes, looting some ammo. Two innocent legends, slaughtered brutally by the new guy on drugs. Sounds like headline for the Outlands newspaper

"How even.... We weren't even gone for at least 5 minutes." Mirage said. "Octane, what did you do?"

"It was an accident, Amigo. Are you happy now? Lifeline and I had a drink together yesterday, probably one too much. I accidentally swapped the syringes this morning cause I couldn't think right." He finally confessed because he couldn't handle Mirage's annoying attitude anymore.

"Are there any side effects?"

"depends, want to hear the bad or the worst once?"

"The good once please"

"Side effects aren't really good at all, Compadre. It'll wear off after a while. Probably gonna take a few days but the most common side effect is not being able to sleep or concentrate, cause you know,.. It makes you feel energetic." Octane looked at Seer who's been looking at them both for a while now, moving his fingers rapidly up and down.

-The poor guy won't be able to sleep for the upcoming days.- Octane wanted to say, but he didn't because he knew Mirage probably wouldn't be able to stop talking if he had an antidote for the poison Octane pumped in the always so calm and concentrated Seer.

"Are you both good? There are 10 squad left. Let's go." Seer couldn't even think right at this very moment as the

stim probably reached its peak at this point.

"c'mon, we need to go. Before it wears off, better take the advance now we still can." Octane said.

"Does that mean I can get a kill too?"

"If you're fast enough, Amigo!" Octane said and took the lead this time. Mirage sighed, if only he was as fast as them. His legs were making him tired, trying to keep up with those two junkies.

-This feels wrong.- That's all Mirage could think of right now.

The ring chased them all the way back to the rift. The third round had been announced and the timer went down rapidly, close to round 4. On their way to the ring they took another squad down, but none of them seemed to be the kill leader. Somehow....

Seer got the most kills, logical right? He took down thirteen people. Octane got second place with 8 and mirage.... Yeah, he didn't even bother trying to keep up with those two anymore. He didn't even take the Stim, but he was already worn out mainly because of the constant sprinting. He even burned his butt on the ring because Seer and Octane pushed a squad on the edge of the closing ring.

"Only 2 enemy squads left.... Victory is nearly ours." Seer said as Octane used his Jump Pad to take both Mirage and Seer to the upper parts of the Rift. Being this high gave them the advantage to examine their upcoming enemies.

Besides Mirage acquired a fully upgraded Longbow, so he could see their enemies from at least 300 meters away. But the main reason he was using the Longbow, is because he could still keep an eye on both of his Teammates without moving a lot.

The drugs enhanced Seer's abilities greatly. His ears picked up the sounds of heartbeats even faster and his micro drones reached a distance even further than before. It almost felt like cheating. (Well it definitely was though, none of the legends were allowed to take any drugs, except for Octane, because you know, it's Octane.)

"6 enemies, North, not too far away, currently fighting each other." Mirage said as he loaded the Longbow, ready to Shoot one of them, while standing on top of the building.

Seer peaked through the scope of his R-301, Following the movement of what it seemed to be, Fuse. Who launched his knuckle cluster at one of the other legends he's been fighting.

"Let's go! It's not like they're going to commit suicide!" Octane exclaimed, injecting himself with the 40st syringe of Stim today. He threw his jump pad down in front of himself and used it to launch himself into battle.

4 legends closer to victory. Mirage wanted this to be over, this entire match pushed him to his limits. He doesn't care that he only had 2 kills, well of course he did, but he pushed that away for now.

Seer released his micro drones mid air, after he also used Octane's jump pad of course, to reveal the remaining enemies. Just before he landed, Octane already downed the last one of the other squad Fuse and his team were fighting.

"Knuckle cluster f'ring."

It struck Octane from behind and it stuck long enough to break Octane's shield.

"Shit." Octane growled. Seer heard his teammate being in trouble and quickly focused his attention on Fuse, who seemed to be amused and proud by his actions.

While Octane was trying to recharge his shield behind a MRVN, currently at top on one of the buildings from the Rift, Mirage noticed one of Fuse's teammates, down at the ground, tried to flank Octane.

Bloodhound, Mirage noticed, they only have to scan their area and they would be faster at Octane than mirage ever would be. So the man sighed and decided to take a gamble. First he shot Bloodhound, clearly cracking their shield, and after that he jumped in as well.

Bloodhound quickly turned around, trying to find the one responsible for their cracked shield. But before they took action, Mirage landed behind them. Not exactly behind but 50 meter away.

He tried to regain his balance, but....

"Alfather, give me sight! " Bloodhound suddenly said and turned around to notice Mirage's clumsy landing. Their eyes glowing red and quickly started shooting at the poor soul.

Mirage whimpered, trying to remain his cool, but he couldn't, every bullet he fired ended up in the gutter. But Bloodhound's bullets hit him one for one, almost knocking him. Luckily Octane finally finished up charging his shield and attacked Bloodhound upstairs. Delivering the final blow.

"Be careful where you walk, Amigo!" Octane yelled and threw a Phoenix kit towards the older man.

Seer seemed to have a hard time against Fuse. His quick reflexes suddenly turned slow and he barely found the energy to keep himself on his feet. Fuse took advantage of that, he swiftly moved out of the cover and readied an Arc star on his robot arm. Ready to shoot, but Seer just got enough power to release, his fast loading tactical and the micro drives escaped out of his chest device once again, canceling fuse abilities for a few seconds. Confusing the older men for a second as his arm wouldn't work

Seer's bullet struck Fuse right at his chest , to end the longest battle he had today. Then he collapsed.

"Is he dead?" Mirage boldly asked.

"Of course not, are you crazy, Compadre. " Octane muttered. "He probably fell asleep or something...."

"We have our Champion's!"

It seemed that Fuse and Bloodhound lost a teammate before the last ring closed, so they were unable to revive him or her.

"This was the weirdest match ever. I'm glad it's over..." Mirage sounded worried, and he has enough reasons to be worried. This was Obi's second match in the Apex game and recovering would surely be a drag.

"Come on Compadre, we won! Be happy!" Octane howled and quickly started to jump around.

--------

"So, Silva caused all of this, Huh. It was mu'h fault, i should've keep an better eye on him." Che rubbed her temple as she plays with a pen in her other hand.

After the games ended, Lifeline got called in to pick up Obi's lifeless body and brought him to the hospice on the drop ship.

"It isn't your fault, Aya. I was with him at the match, I should have stopped him earlier. Obi's going to be alright, right?* Mirage replied, standing next to Lifeline, who's scribbling some notes on her note pad about Seer's condition.

"He's going to f'ne. The only problem is that it would take weeks for him to r'cover. I mean, he can easily compete to the games again in just a f'w days. Stim is one h'll of a drug, if you ain't used to it, the side effects of it are terrible. He would still feel energetic but his stamina won't be able to deal with it, think of headaches, being tired all of the time, that surt stuff. He won't be happy when he wakes up."

"I see..." Elliot mumbled.

"Silva is at the Paradise lounge. Yuh should go there as well. Celebrating yuh win and all." Lifeline added. "I can't come, I need to keep an eye on the artist, yuh know."

Mirage wanted to ask if Che was coming too but she already answered his thoughts.

"Are you sure?" He asked to make sure he understood it right.

"Definitely! Now go, Witt. Obi will be alright as long he's in muh hands."

And so Mirage did. Without a doubt lifeline's care was the best of the outlands and Seer will recover as fast as possible. Ready to Lecture Octane about his wrongdoings. (or to kick his ass, just to show how disappointed he was.)

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ibijau · 3 years

Note

firstly, i would like to apologize for the way that i saw the words “any ship” and instantly took them as a challenge to create new, bad ships. secondly, i am suggesting number 7 with lan xichen/wen xu. no, you did not misread that; mr capybara can get along with everyone so well that i’m assigning him an entirely new evil boyfriend. bonus points if you actually find a way to make this work in a canon or pre-canon universe, bc i sure can’t see one!

Holding their hair back as they vomit into the toilet

See, this is the one that got me in trouble. Because actually, that ship isn’t even that bad to me. I’m pretty sure it has been discussed several times on the xisang discord. And so I stupidly commented on tumblr that well, y’all think you’re giving bad ships but it’s not that awful. And boy oh boy, do I regret that now (not really, it’s gonna be fun)

warning for mentions of violence against a corpse, and for vomiting :)

The nausea hits Wen Xu when they pass through Qinghe, and doesn’t leave from that point on. It goes ever stronger as the cart gets closer to the Unclean Realm. If not for the man sitting next to him and throwing him weak smiles, Wen Xu would have jumped on his sword and ran away. This is a terrible, terrible plan, and he should have known better than to let Lan Xichen get plotting, and yet…

And yet, what choice did he have? Wen Xu doesn’t have his father and brother’s blind faith in Qishan Wen’s power. He understands the power of numbers, of good position, of sheer rage too. The instant Lotus Piers burned, he sent a letter to Lan Xichen, begging for his help. A desperate move after what happened with Qingheng-Jun, but Lan Xichen knows it was an accident. Back then too, they had a plan.

Hopefully, this one will work better.

As they fall into the shadows of the Unclean Realm’s high walls, Wen Xu starts fidgeting with the bandages on his face. If too much of his features show, if he is recognised… Nie Mingjue is on the frontlines, his little brother hidden far away in the Cloud Recesses, but Wen Xu’s face is one even lesser Nie cultivator will have seen at conferences. If he is seen, if he is spotted… this isn’t just about him, Lan Xichen too would…

“Calm down,” Lan Xichen whispers, taking his hands and forcing them away from his face. “I am well liked and well trusted here. And it’s only for a day or two, to avoid arousing suspicions. I always stop here when I’m in the area.”

Wen Xu, growing more nervous with every passing moment, grasps one of Lan Xichen’s wrists. Lan Xichen smiles as best as he can, and struggles against that grasp until they’re holding hands instead, their fingers tightly linked together. It feels more comforting that it should. Wen Xu has no faith in his father and brother, but he would follow Lan Xichen to the end of the world if the other man asked him too.

After a last squeeze, Lan Xichen lets go of Wen Xu’s hand and turns his gaze back to the doors of the Unclean Realm. He frowns and narrows his eyes, as if trying to see something, then turns deathly pale.

“Oh no,” he gasps.

That’s all the warning Wen Xu gets before he hears Nie Mingjue’s booming voice coming their way.

“Xichen! What are you doing here?”

Wen Xu shrinks on himself. He wants to take Lan Xichen’s hand again, to have the other man smile at him, look at him. He resists the impulse, fearful of attracting attention on himself, and watches instead as Lan Xichen smiles peacefully at the man who presents such danger to both of them.

“Mingjue-xiong, this is a surprise,” Lan Xichen says, sounding quite delighted to meet his friend. “I thought you’d be on the front.”

“I’ve just returned to do some decorating,” Nie Mingjue announces, leaning on the side of the cart. Wen Xu doesn’t look, but feels his gaze on him. “Who’s that with you, Xichen?”

“The heir of a small sect attached to Gusu Lan by marriage,” Lan Xichen flawlessly lies. “He was captured and wounded, but I freed him and I’m taking him to safety.”

The intensity of Nie Mingjue’s eyes on Wen Xu grows. They’re going to die, Wen Xu is certain of it. All these efforts, and they’re going to die, both of them.

They’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to…

“Well, I’ve got good news for him then!” Nie Mingjue announces smugly. “The war is going well. Help the man sit up, Xichen. I’ve got something to show that will please both of you.”

“Mingjue-xiong, it’s been a long day, I’d rather…”

“It’s on the way in,” Nie Mingjue explains. “Just sit him up so he doesn’t miss it.”

Lan Xichen’s face remains calm, but his hands are shaking as he helps Wen Xu sit up. In turn, Wen Xu doesn’t have to pretend too much when he leans against Lan Xichen’s side. His nausea is still there, stronger than ever. He must stink of fear so badly it’s a surprise that Nie Mingjue can’t smell it, when everyone knows the Nie are more beasts than humans.

As the cart starts moving, Wen Xu wonders what, exactly, he’s supposed to be seeing on his way in. There’s just not much around, and the bandages on his face do limit his field of vision.

Lan Xichen spots it before him.

Lan Xichen whose body turns to stone, and his grip on Wen Xu to iron.

There, right in the middle of the main yard of the Unclean Realm, there’s a high pike with a head on it. A head that Wen Xu knows too well, because it’s one he sees in every mirror, every puddle of water.

Bile hits the back of his throat, and he has to clench his teeth to avoid puking in public.

“We got him trying to retreat during our last battle,” Nie Mingjue explains proudly, mistaking their horrified silence for admiration perhaps. “He begged for his life like a dog and tried to pretend he wasn’t who we thought. Pathetic.”

In spite of the danger, Wen Xu blindly grasps Lan Xichen’s hand, desperately needing to ground himself.

That wasn’t the plan.

The plan, Wen Xu told his cousin a week ago, was for said cousin to disguise as him, mess up a battle, fake his suicide after that dishonour so nobody would look for Wen Xu, and then run back to his family and take them very far away from this war. Wen Xu gave the man gold, letters to guarantee his passage to safety, and placed his wife and children with Wen Qing’s people since nobody would dare to cross her.

Wen Xu’s cousin had just had his first son less than a year ago. Now little Wen Yuan and his sisters are orphans, and their mother will never know what became of her husband.

“Isn’t it a bit morbid?” Lan Xichen asks in a trembling voice.

“He killed your father,” Nie Mingjue reminds him.

And it’s true, of course, but it was an accident. Lan Xichen agreed that it was an accident. They’d had a plan. How were they supposed to guess that Qingheng-Jun, who hadn’t been seen in over a decade, would finally remember he was sect leader? Wen Xu hadn’t meant to kill him, and Lan Xichen had forgiven him, saying his father had likely just seen a chance to end his life without causing more dishonour to their family.

“It was Huaisang’s idea,” Nie Mingjue continues. “Well, he asked me to do that with Wen Ruohan’s head and to keep it there until he returns, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind seeing the full set.”

“I see,” Lan Xichen whispers. “Let’s hope the war is over quickly then. The smell is going to get terrible if that stays here all summer.”

“I’ve put a spell on it to…”

“Mingjue-xiong, I’ve had a really long day,” Lan Xichen interrupts, struggling to maintain his usual polite warmth. “I know we have talked in a while, but I really would like to rest a moment. May we be given a room for the night? And something to eat as well. I am very sorry, but my plan was to leave early tomorrow morning so I can go back to the frontlines quickly once I have delivered this man to safety.”

Nie Mingjue seems surprised by that demand. He grumbles, and offers to have his healers look at Wen Xu, to have his men deliver him back to his sect. Lan Xichen politely refuses all of that, claiming some vague oath to do this in person, and Nie Mingjue gives up.

Wen Ruohan needs armies to be respected and obeyed, while Lan Xichen needs only to smile.

Terrified beyond words, Wen Xu leans heavily against Lan Xichen as they are walked to their room for the night. He doesn’t need to pretend weakness. Every time he looks around and sees a Nie crest, every time he hears Nie Mingjue’s voice, his legs buckle under him.

As soon as the door closes behind them, as soon as he’s alone with Lan Xichen and safely out of view, Wen Xu falls to his knees.

“I’m going to be sick,” he gasps.

Lan Xichen barely has time to put a basin in front of him before Wen Xu starts heaving, and before long his last meal makes a return.

It lasts too long. Even when there’s nothing left to puke, Wen Xu’s body is rocked by dry hiccups that make it near impossible to breathe. He can’t stop thinking of that head on a pike, a head that should have been his.

“I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen whispers, holding his hair out of the way with one hand, rubbing comforting circles on his back with the others. “I’m so sorry. I never thought he would be there and… well. You know Mingjue.”

Wen Xu nods, a nearly hysterical giggle escaping him before he finds that though he’s empty of food, he can still vomit bile.

He knows Mingjue indeed, the man who has sworn he would avenge his father, who has looked at Wen Xu as if he wants to cut him in pieces since the day he became sect leader. Him and that sneaky brother of his have always scared Wen Xu, something for which his brother and father have mocked him sometimes.

Wen Ruohan probably isn’t laughing anymore. Or if he is, if he thinks he’s just rid of the weaker of his two sons at last, that only proud and devoted Wen Chao remains… then he’s a bigger fool than Wen Xu ever thought him to be, and he won’t be missed by his eldest son.

Between Wen Ruohan and Lan Xichen, the choice was always an easy one.

#lan xichen #wen xu #xuchen #chenxu #nie mingjue #mdzs #wtf is the ship name for this though???#jau writes #Anonymous #bad ship prompts

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gamerwoo · 4 years

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Minghao: Find Our Way (Part Eight)

Characters: Minghao x (blind) female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, murder

Word count: 3,035

Summary: You already knew who you were meant to be with and how your life was supposed to go. The only thing keeping you and the life you were destined to lead apart was the fact you were blind. At least, for now, you could meet him in your dreams.

Tag list: @choiminjae0325 @heolykpop @fullsun-donghyuck @yoonbabe-d @exuwu @lets-get-1t @vintageot5 @sehunnies-hunnie96 @childfmoonn @wobwobkpop @henloimawierdobye @dirinast @joshwoah @wreckedbytae@sakura-uji (if you wanna be added please send an ask or a dm!!)

Unable to tag: @birthday-prinxess @sooooofrench

Previous | Next | Find Our Way Masterlist

All eyes went to Joshua. He was the only other person who had experienced what Minghao was. He had lost his pull to his mate before -- not counting when she had died -- but it was under very odd circumstances that he never really spoke to anybody about.

“Okay, but even if it was like what happened with Lilly,” Joshua began when the pack began bombarding him with questions, “why would _____ suddenly up and leave? And without her cane? She wouldn’t have gotten to the front door without bumping into everything or falling down the stairs, and that would’ve woken up the pack!”

“Nothing here is adding up,” Jihoon agreed.

While the pack went back and forth on what could’ve happened, Minghao was racking his brain as he tried to figure out what could’ve happened to you. You running away from him was completely out of the question for multiple reasons -- the top two being that you would need your cane to do so anyway, and he was positive you loved him as much as he loved you. Kidnapping was an option, but he was positive that the pack would’ve not only heard it happen, but he knew he would’ve sensed danger. Not only that, but your scent would’ve led somewhere other than just the middle of the woods before going cold like you disappeared out of thin air.

He gasped, looking up from the floor, “The witch!”

“The what?” Seungkwan asked.

“Sh-she said she met a witch at the market yesterday!” Minghao was babbling so quickly that his words were jumbling together. “She offered to fix _____’s eyes but she wanted to consult with me first.”

“Witches are very sneaky,” Seungcheol nodded. “The witch might’ve tracked _____ down and lured her out.”

“But what reason would a witch have to kidnap _____?” Jooyeon wondered.

“They don’t need a reason,” Soomin spoke up, already knowing a lot about witches. “They cause trouble for the hell of it. They’ll strike up an offer and keep up the offer, but there’s always a price.”

“The price being that Minghao can’t find her now,” Soonyoung guessed.

Seungcheol turned to look between Junhui and Jeonghan, “Did you see _____ talking to anybody yesterday at the market?”

Jooyeon raised her hand before either boy could reply, “She was looking at this one booth with some bag of bones running it. I went over to um...purchase a new knife or two...or five.”

“Do you remember where it was located?” Jun asked.

You explored the cottage a bit. There really wasn’t much to it. There was the den, which was the biggest room in the house. Then there was a small kitchen, and even smaller bedroom, and a bathroom. So you got pretty bored easily, figuring it would be rude to start sifting through the owner’s belongings like their books and whatnot.

The cat followed you around, occasionally chirping at you. You did find that there was a collar on the little cat’s neck that had a bell on it and a small circular tag that read Yeji. So you at least had a name to call the cat, but that was all the information you’d gathered while at the cottage.

Despite the situation, you were happy you could see. It was like a whole new world to you since you hadn’t been able to see since you were a child. The colors were so much more vivid than you remembered. You couldn’t wait for Minghao to come find you so you could finally look at him in person.

Meow.

You looked down to see Yeji looking up at you with her tail swishing again. You bent down, holding a hand out to her.

“What is it?” you asked as if she would answer.

Yeji only chirped before turning and running toward the kitchen. She leaped up onto the counter and put her two front paws on the windowsill before she turned back to look at you. You locked eyes for only a second before she slid out through the slightly open window and jumped down onto the ground.

“Yeji!” you called in almost a whine, not wanting to lose the only thing you had to keep you company.

You went over to the window and peered out to see if you could find the black cat, but she was nowhere to be found. You sighed, a pout forming on your face as you realized you were now alone. Part of you wished you’d closed the window, but you also didn’t want to trap the cat in here, too.

There was suddenly soft scratching on the front door, followed by little meows. You turned your head and walked over to the front door, unsure if you should open it or not.

“Yeji...?” you called before pressing your ear to the door.

Meow.

‘This cat is a little odd...’

You unlocked the door and opened it to see Yeji sitting and staring at you like always. She meowed once more before she got up and began trotting down the small grassy hill that led to the woods.

‘Why would a cottage be out here?’

‘Well, Soomin’s was in the woods, too.’

Yeji paused to look behind her, seeing that you were still standing in the doorway as you looked off into the woods.

Meow.

This one was a little sharper, bringing you from your thoughts. She took a few more steps before turning back and meowing at you again. All you could assume was that the little cat wanted to be followed, though you weren’t sure why. Still, you began following after the cat, who then stopped meowing at you.

You only got to walk halfway to where the trees started when you were abruptly stopped. It was almost like you ran into a wall except it didn’t quite feel solid and it didn’t hurt. You put your hands up and pressed, feeling some sort of force holding your hands at the invisible line that you couldn’t seem to cross.

However, Yeji had walked over toward the forest just fine.

She turned around and saw you standing there, fighting against the invisible barrier.

Meow!

This one seemed almost urgent or afraid. She trotted back over to you, meowing up at you like she was telling you to push harder. But no matter how hard you fought, you couldn’t cross over. You even started walking around the area and trying other places, but it was like there was a circle around the cottage keeping you in.

But what if it didn’t just effect you? What if it effected people trying to come in, too?

What if Minghao couldn’t find you?

Yeji seemed to tell you were panicking because you felt her butting her soft head against your leg. She purred and let out soft chirps. She looked up at you with her green eyes and meowed quietly before she turned and took off toward the forest until she disappeared into the greenery.

“Yeji!” you called, hoping maybe she would come back.

But she didn’t.

“Hello?” you called, eyes scanning the forest for anybody to come help you; to get you out of here even if you’d never know what happened to bring you here. “A-anybody...?”

But there was nobody there to hear you.

The pack essentially had to split up. Jooyeon led the first group through the market, trying to keep her head down as she looked for the knife vendor she stole from the day prior. If she could find that booth, she could find the witch.

The second group was waiting out in the forest, waiting for them to find the witch. Assuming she was dumb enough to return to the market, which they were betting on. Otherwise, they had nothing to go off of.

“There,” Jooyeon pointed over to a booth run by a burly-looking blacksmith with dirty hands and face. “I got the knives there, so...”

Their eyes traveled across the little path to...an empty booth.

Jeonghan let out a sigh, his eyes closing, “Fuck... What are we gonna do?”

“What are we going to tell Minghao?” Seungkwan frowned, looking around the group for answers.

Meow.

Jeonghan’s eyes snapped back to the booth, seeing a long-haired black cat perched on the table that he assumed would normally hold the witch’s products she sold. The cat’s piercing green eyes stared back at him, its tail swishing softly off the table.

“Can witches turn into cats?” Jeonghan wondered quietly.

The rest of the group looked over to see why he was asking, and they were a little surprised to see the cat suddenly sitting there.

Jun slowly cocked his head to one side, “I’m not...sure...”

“Soomin might know,” Hansol suggested.

“Yeah, and that’s perfect to know when she’s not here,” Josh nodded.

Meow.

“Hi, kitty,” Junhui cooed as he walked slowly toward the cat as to not spook it. He always loved animals -- especially the strays in town that would wonder into the woods and he would always pet and play with -- so of course he was the first to try to approach the cat. “What’re you doing here so suddenly?”

The cat didn’t move from its spot, meowing again.

“It’s a loud little thing, huh?” Jeonghan murmured.

Jun approached the cat until he could reach out a hand and touch it. So he put his hand out for the cat to sniff, but it only stood up and walked to the other end of the table, glancing at the boy over its shoulder. It meowed again before jumping down onto the ground and beginning to walk to the outskirts of the market.

“You scared it off,” Joshua frowned, whacking Jun in the shoulder.

However, they watched as the cat stopped and looked behind itself to see if they were following. It meowed louder and kept standing there, watching.

Jun took a step forward.

The cat took a step forward and meowed.

“Weird thing, too,” Jeonghan noted.

“No, I think it wants to be followed,” Junhui said before he began walking after the cat.

“That’s still weird,” Jooyeon stated.

“Seungkwan, go tell the others that the witch wasn’t here, but we might’ve found a lead. If we find her, we’ll bring her back,” Jeonghan instructed before going to tag up with those following the cat.

“Wait, but I wanna see what happens!” Seungkwan whined.

“Tough,” the older wolf spat before catching up with the group.

All Minghao could do was pace. Danbi even offered Jiwoo for him to hold as a distraction, and that was the first ever time any of the wolves declined an opportunity to hold the baby. How could he sit still when he knew they had no leads? They were just following a cat! What would that do? They’d never find you now, and he’d never know what happened to you. His whole world was crumbling.

“While some witches can shapeshift,” Soomin began explaining when the question was brought up, “some also have familiars that assist them -- whether it be to help them be good or bad. Though, most familiars are able to shift between their human form and their animal form.”

“Like werewolves,” Chan shrugged.

“Essentially, yes.”

“So that cat might be the witch or the witch’s familiar?” Seungkwan asked.

“But if it’s the witch, why would it lead the pack elsewhere?” Seungcheol wondered. “Unless it’s something bad.”

“But one witch versus all of them?” Mingyu reminded him. “They’ll be fine.”

“Can familiars do anything?” Soonyoung asked Wonwoo’s mate.

“Some have very limited and weak powers, but just one familiar would be nothing against the others.”

“So it’s either the witch or the familiar,” Jihoon decided with a solid nod.

“Or,” Wonwoo spoke up, “they’re just following around some cat. It wouldn’t be the first time Junhui’s done that, anyway.”

Minghao didn’t want to believe that. He wanted to believe they had a lead on where you were. He hoped it was the witch herself, but he wasn’t sure why the witch would want their attention. Actually, he wasn’t sure why the witch’s familiar would help them, either. Oh god, what if it was just a cat?

All of the wolves stopped, eyes looking toward the door as their ears picked up on noise. There was an unfamiliar voice that sounded much older and like it had smoked too much tobacco. It sounded like it was struggling, too, grunting and demanding to be let go of.

Then they recognized the scent of their pack, and Minghao was rushing toward the door before anybody else could move. He threw the backdoor open and saw the group of wolves -- and Jooyeon -- walking out of the forest. Joshua and Jeonghan had a strong grip on an elderly woman in a dark red cloak as she kicked and fought against them. Her hair was white and stringy and long, and she had crooked and missing teeth that showed whenever she spoke.

“Is that...?”

“Unfortunately,” Joshua grunted. “She tried to bite me three times on the way here.”

“Told you I could just knock the rest of her teeth out,” Jooyeon shrugged.

“How did you find her?” Seungcheol asked, appearing behind the Chinese wolf.

But, of course, his eyes found his mate and he had to rush right over to her and look her over instead of wait for any answers. But the rest of the pack was waiting to hear how they tracked down the old hag.

“That cat led us to her,” Hansol shrugged. “The lady set up shop in the next town over.”

The two boys managed to get the witch into the house before they dug out some rope and tied her down to a chair in the kitchen. The pack gathered around, ready to interrogate. Seungcheol insisted the mates stay upstairs -- including Jooyeon, who protested very loudly -- so Mingyu and Wonwoo both went to stay with them since the alpha’s mate would be a handful to keep there.

“Alright, lady,” Soonyoung began with a disgusted look on his face as he scanned the old witch, “what did you do with _____?”

“I’ve never heard that name in my life,” she stated simply.

“You look like you’ve been alive for millenniums so I don’t think you would remember if you have anyway,” Jihoon muttered under his breath.

“We know you kidnapped a girl from here last night,” Seungcheol stated, using his ‘alpha voice’. “Tell us where you brought her. Why can’t her mate feel the pull to her?”

The woman smirked, showing off her mostly-toothless grin that made a few of them cringe away from her, “Looks like lover boy will just have to suffer without her then if he can’t find her.”

“If you don’t tell us where she is, we’ll kill you,” Jihoon stated in a growl, golden eyes turning red as they narrowed.

“I’d sooner die than help a werewolf,” she spat before literally spitting in the direction of the shorter wolf.

The three alphas looked between each other, considering their options. They weren’t sure how to get answers out of her. They could try torturing her, but they didn’t want to do that. Even if it was to find a mate, they weren’t sure they could go through with that.

Well, maybe a little bit.

Jihoon lifted his hand, his eyes faintly glowing to life as he curled his hand out like he were holding the witch by the throat. As he began to bend his fingers, pressure was applied to her neck, closing her airways.

“Tell us where she is,” Seungcheol demanded. “What did you do with her?”

The witch only laughed more, choking out, “You’ll never...find her.”

“This is your last chance, hag!” Soonyoung barked. “Tell us or we’ll kill you.”

Minghao watched silently from the sidelines, unsure if he could take part in this. But knowing that he wasn’t getting any answers, something in him snapped. He shoved his way to the front of the crowd, even pushing Jihoon away and losing his concentration with his power. Minghao gripped the witch by her collar and pulled her so close that their noses almost touched.

“Tell me where my mate is!” he demanded in a snarl that ripped through his chest and even frightened a few of his brothers. “I want her back now!”

“I’m a powerful witch, dog,” she chuckled. “I know how to make it so you’ll never find her.”

“Tell me!” Minghao was yelling in her face, his face turning so red that his brothers thought he might explode.

She only laughed in his face, finding amusement in his anger.

Without even thinking, Minghao’s eyes glowed as his power kicked in. And since the last special werewolf he touched was Jihoon, it was his power. Minghao stepped back and raised his palm to the witch like the older wolf had, except he was curling his fingers at a much faster rate, choking the witch much quicker.

The whole time, she smiled and laughed until she didn’t have the air in her to laugh anymore. The light faded from her eyes, Minghao staring her down with a glare and a clenched jaw, his glowing eyes filled with hot tears.

“Hao...?” Soonyoung spoke up softly.

Minghao let out a sigh, dropping his hand as his gaze fell to the floor. His eyes turned back to their normal yellow as tears began to slip down his cheeks. They may have gotten rid of the person who caused the problem -- and would no doubt cause more for them if they didn’t get rid of her -- but they were no closer to finding you. He was no closer to having you in his arms again.

While the pack was consoling Minghao inside, the cat from earlier was sitting outside. Her ears twitched as she heard the witch she was supposed to ‘work for’ being choked to death before finally dying. Satisfied with that, she turned and began running through the forest back to you, the poor girl waiting alone at the cottage.

She would fix this. She wasn’t sure how yet, but she would reunite you with your mate.

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pixie-cocaine · 4 years

Text

ATEEZ reaction to: their S.O. being a former Playboy model

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

A/N: I really did hella research on this because Playboy's rules and shit are a lot more strict and confusing than you'd think. BUT, good news is that you can model for Playboy without having to be a Playboy playmate (which is a lifetime job I think). Anyways, it's kinda long because I like to make each scenario different in terms of style and what you wear, but I hope you enjoy :)

Songs Listened To: Sweet Insomnia - Gallant, mentiras - Alaina Castillo

(Also, mature/explicit so read at your own risk!)

Hongjoong ♡:

• you'd ask him to go get you a shirt from your drawers while you were in the shower

• he'd be going through the wrong one, your underwear drawer, when his finger brushed against the plastic cover of what felt like a magazine

• his curiosity would get the best of him, also the fact that he thought it was porn and he'd be able to tease you about it

• and he'd pull it out

• he definitely wasn't expecting to see you on the front cover, body adorned with silk lingerie that held accents of cherry red ribbon and deftly tied loops. Everything about you was carefully laid on; the flawless red matte lipstick, your hair which fell over your eyes in gorgeous tendrils, even the neatly-placed bunny ears and cotton tail.

• the thing that got him most was how you sat on your knees, a sickly sweet smiling playing on your lips as your hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of your panties

• he almost thought he was dreaming when he saw the title 'Playboy', plastered across the heading in big bold letters

• he wouldn't think twice about throwing the magazine on the bed and waiting for you to come out of the shower to go see why he hadn't given you a shirt like you asked

• when you finally stood in the doorway, robe covering your nudity and an eyebrow raised, Hongjoong would hold up the magazine with a smirk

• "You never told me you were a Playboy bunny"

• "You never asked, and why would I tell your nosy ass anyways?"

• he'd chuckle and you'd finish getting dressed, but he wouldn't stop thinking about it

• you'd end up fishing out your old Playboy outfits to wear for him

Seonghwa ♡:

• you and Hwa would be getting ready for the sexy-themed costume party San had the bright idea of throwing for Wooyoung's birthday party

• since Hwa didn't have any costumes, he'd go with the simple but classic loose black button-up and pants before sitting on the bed, waiting for you to come out of the bathroom

• the sound of your heels clicking on the polished floor had him looking up from his phone, and to say his eyes damn-near popped out of his skull was an understatement

• literally, this man would probably be drooling like a saint Bernard

• you looked like an enchantress; gorgeous royal purple forplay bodysuit, complete with jeweled fishnets, dual cuffs and a cuff collar, the iconic large bunny ears, cotton tail, and redbottoms all had him in a daze

• he literally could've pounced on you right there if he had no sense of self-control

• your smile, god your smile was what set it off. Especially with the way your lips curled delicately and accentuated the bloody red lip tint, a few stray strands of hair kissing at your forehead

• "Do you like it? I used to wear it back when I was a bunny and modeled every once in a while," you'd say, feigning obliviousness to how Hwa drank in your form

• to be honest, Seonghwa couldn't give less of a fuck whether you modeled and strut around in skin-tight clothing for hundreds of hungry eyes

• all he cared about was whether he'd be able to finish fucking you before you were late sifbjeuzysha

• in a nutshell, he absolutely loved the fact that you still had your Playboy bunny outfit, but didn't mind your past contract with them

Yunho ♡:

• you were always the secretive one in the relationship so it was no surprise that one day when Yunho dropped his phone under the bed and sat on his knees to look for it that he found it sitting by a big black box

• just because you were secretive didn't mean he couldn't find a way to get past the point of you hiding it in the first place

• you were in the kitchen at the time, cooking your famous homemade jajamyeon, but Yunho knew you'd come to check on him, so he had to make it quick

• after he finally popped open the stubborn lid, he'd looked in to see something he wasn't expecting to see at all

• magazines, all of them with you in various positions on the covers, sat in stacks to the right of the box. Beside it sat a headband with large familiar bunny ears and.. was that a half see-through bodysuit?

• well, he didn't even have time to identify the rest of it, because the sound of your amused voice filled his ears

• "Yunho, what are you doing?"

• "N-nothing!"

• he'd scrambled to close the box and push it back under the bed, but he would get his fingers jammed in the top, letting out a yelp as it caught on the tender flesh of his digits

• "tsk, tsk, tsk. Clumsy boy.."

• but still, you'd giggle and crouch down to his eye level before removing his hands from the box and rubbing the tips of his fingers

• "I didn't know you were a Playboy bunny"

• was the first thing he asked lmao

• you'd giggle and answer questions about your past contract with Playboy before treating him to your jajamyeon and a band-aid

• it was only when you were cuddled up on the couch did he bring it up again

• "um, babe?"

• "yeah?"

• "would you be fine with it if I asked for you to pose in your Playboy uniform?"

• I swear, this bitch-

Yeosang ♡:

• to be honest, nobody knows how he found out

• this bitch sneaky

• all you know is that he came into the living room where you sat, holding up your folded Playboy uniform and a glass of wine

• "Do me a favor and go put this on, gorgeous. I wanna see how you look in it."

• and that's how you wound up standing in front of Yeosang, occasionally tugging at the bowtie hugging your neck or pulling at the back of your bodysuit

• but Yeosang paid no mind to your fidgeting. He was completely entranced

• he couldn't comprehend your beauty. The black Velvet of your bodysuit wasn't anything special, but the way it framed your curves and stuck to all the right places was enough to make anybody gasp in jealousy. The dual cuffs linked to your wrist added to the whole 'sexy waitress' look, and the bunny ears and cotton tail made you look adorable, all Yeosang wanted was to worship your body and all of your flaws

• which is what he did

• he sat before you, his forehead resting on your stomach as you stood there, a hand on his shoulder for balance that might be needed, and sighed as you savored the feeling of his hands roaming every inch of your body. He started at the stockings; pinching the thin fabric between his forefinger and thumb, before moving up to slide his hands around your waist and finger at the textures of your clothes.

• the rest of the night, he made work of your body

• literally, he was so soft and tender

• he wished he would've seen the photoshoots you'd been in, but overall, he didn't really care

• it was something you liked, and he respected that

• literally, I know this man has a huge body worship kink nsjdkwksj

• you didn't hear it from me

San ♡:

• you both would be watching movies together when you stood up

• "I'm gonna go pee real quick, you can keep it playing if you want."

• and you were outy 😔🤙🏼

• just when he was about to go back to the movie, your phone began to buzz, the screen lighting up along with the vibrations that rattled it's being

• now, San's nosy ass wouldn't wanna be too rude by touching your phone without permission, but he couldn't help checking the caller ID

• his jaw dropped when he saw just who was calling

• 'Playboy 👯'

• was the caller ID

• he kinda would just freeze up and make excuses in his head

• "Nah, that's probably just one of her friends."

• he'd ask you when you came back out, but still tried to make sure you understood that he in fact did not snoop through your shit

• "I'm just curious, that's all. If it's something that you liked to do, then do what you want."

• really supportive, even if you told him that you left that job and they were only calling back to see if you'd pick up a last-minute gig for extra money

• "Baby, I wouldn't care if you decided to go back."

• actually likes the idea a lot

• he'd be searching up your name in Playboy while you were asleep lmao 😂

Mingi ♡:

• you wanted to do something fun towards the end of his birthday party

• so what better way than to blindfold him, sit him in a chair in the middle of the bedroom, and go put on your old Playboy uniform?

• he'd be kinda nervous, but also excited

• the telltale signs of his clammy hands and constant leg jumping gave it away

• maaan you were abouta blow this man's moinnndd

• his head would perk up at the sound of your heels hitting the floor, getting closer with each shaky breath rattling Mingi's chest, his heart threatening to jump out of his ribcage

• one moment his vision was obscured, the next, you were standing in front of him with a hand on your hips, looking like a wet dream personafied

• he literally felt like he might nut in his pants at the mere sight wonfjwjwjw

• hair, messy and tucked behind your ears. Lips, curled in amusement at his shocked expression, painted over with a subtle brown lipstick which glistened in the soft orange glow of the lamplight to your left.

• his eyes traveled lower, almost helplessly

• the black latex bodysuit enveloped your figure, fitted like a second skin, and cupped your hips as you shifted your weight to your left foot. Bunny ears sat atop your head and swayed with your small movements, a tied bow clipped to your throat, and your legs slipped into glossy-looking sheer tights

• Mingi felt like a starved animal, staring at you as if you held the key to his ecstacy

• which, let's be honest, you did

• y'all began to fuck straight after HAJAJAJABDBDJS

• (he definitely liked the idea of your being a Playboy bunny, but was pretty left-leaning to the fact that a bunch of other men probably looked oggled at you back when you did occasionally waitressing)

Wooyoung ♡:

• sooo, Wooyoung is a pretty flexible person (??)

• i mean, he has to when he has the sex appeal of an expensive stripper that always wears a custom-made silver crown when she gets on-stage to show that she's a bad bitch

• so when you and him decided to skip work in favor of booze and some Disney

• he'd be kinda excited when, as you both were talking about stupid shit you did in the past, you brung up the fact that you'd used to model for Playboy

• he'd be a little thrown off at first tho

• "Woah, woah, woah. Like, signature bunny ears and cotton tail Playboy?"

• "Yeah, I did a couple photoshoots for them in my time. Why, do you suddenly have the desire to hurl up your breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the sight of me?"

• "No, no, not at all. That's kinda hot, if I'm being honest"

• not even ashamed that he immediately pulled up your photoshoots and looked through them with you

• "Yeah, see that one? They had me lay in a tub of melted chocolate for it, I'm not even gonna sugar-coat it when I say that it got all up in my hoo-hah"

• "Lucky! I wanna pose in a pool of chocolate like a sexy french girl, too!"

• it'd become an inside joke for you two

• like when you'd complain about it being cold, he'd say some stupid shit like:

• "Playboy bunnies never get cold, you can deal with it"

• it'd be really cute 🥺

Jongho ♡:

• ugh the sweetest baby to ever exist

• for lack of a better scenario, you both would be laying in bed, half-awake, and talking about life in general

• you'd been the one to bring up the topic, considering your usual bouncy, sweet Jongho had been stressed lately

• you wanted to calm him down, relieve him of any exhaustion

• so that's how you ended up in bed with him, limbs tangled together, and your head resting on his chest as he recounted his childish ways of the past

• you'd look up at him with full heart eyes bro

• and I really don't blame you

• and ease him into your own actions

• you'd hesitantly bring up being a Playboy bunny, and bb would immediately sit up and be like

• "Uhhh, pardon?"

• you'd think he was against the idea, but after you sputtered out excuse after excuse, he'd start giggling

• OH MY GOD LET ME KISS YOU JONGHO

• and then once he stopped laughing

• he'd reassure you that it was fine with him

• if you liked doing something, who was he to stop you. Yeah, the idea might be a little iffy to him because he wasn't so keen on sharing you with anybody, but he didn't wanna stop you from being happy and getting ya money

• why? Because uhhhh he's a baby?

• Why would you even ask? That man can do no wrong HE GOES TO FUCKING ELDERLY WOMEN SINGING MEETUPS

• he'd ask you to tell him some funny stories about being a model, and he'd eventually fall asleep due to you running your fingers through his hair

• ugh I'm in my feelings

(oh yah, and sorry for posting this a couple days late lol)

#ateez fluff #ateez yeosang #ateez reactions #ateez #ateez mingi #Ateez hongjoong #ateez jongho #ateez yunho #kpop related #jongho #hongjoong smut #hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #Seonghwa #yunho #i love these babies

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tiaragqueen · 4 years

Text

Reprise

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Izaya Orihara x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,2k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, possessiveness, mention of kidnapping, implied confinement

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“Where do you think you're going? I think you don't know. You got no way of knowing. You got no place to go.” - Where Do You Think You’re Going? [Dire Straits]

You’d never regretted your laziness more.

For the longest time, you always postponed exercising because you thought to eat healthy food and sleeping early were sufficient. Your body was normal, never veering into the overweight or underweight territory. Though, your grades in physical education were indeed average at best. As long as you didn’t fail the class, it should be enough, right? Besides, almost everything you wanted in this world lied on your fingertips, anyway. So, you didn’t have to exert much energy to gain them.

Unfortunately, stamina wasn’t one of them.

You rounded a dark alleyway and leaned against the wall, trying to regulate your rapid breathing. You’d only been running for a minute, and yet, your lungs felt like they were on fire. Your legs trembled and almost collapsed when you finally paused, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t stop now. You couldn’t bear to stop, not when one of the strongest men in Ikebukuro was chasing you.

Unless he didn’t know you’d escaped yet…

No, you shook your head, Izaya wasn’t stupid. Being an avid observer of people, he’d probably predicted this since it was natural for a captive to seek for freedom. That was why he didn’t bother to strengthen the security of his house because he wanted to see whether you’d take the bait.

He wanted to see whether you’d partake in his game. And, as always, you fell into it.

Then again, what were you supposed to do?! Just waiting for his arrival whilst staring at the unlocked door? Maybe that was he wanted, deep inside. He always liked it whenever you obeyed him, to play the role of a submissive housewife. While you didn’t have much problem with taking care of a house, it became a whole new problem when the owner also expected you to shower him affection as though you were truly his wife. While in reality, you were just an acquaintance at best.

Well, you considered him that way, excluding your abduction. Because, really, you knew almost nothing about him. Sure, your friends had warned you regarding his infamy, but that was it. They didn’t know what else could he do aside from provoking that impulsive blond and leaping from one building to another. They didn’t know the extent of his intelligence and insight aside from his job as an informant. They didn’t know how vast his connection around the city, and possibly even the region.

Because they, just like you, knew almost nothing about him aside from the general stuff.

However, it wasn’t the time to think about your ignorance over his background. You needed to start moving. You needed to keep running until his house was nothing but a dot in your sight. You needed to keep running until he lost your track, regardless of how unlikely it sounded.

But a girl can dream, right? If your child self could hope for a prince charming to ‘rescue’ you like those princesses in fairy tales, surely your adult self could pray for freedom from the dragon too, right?

How unfortunate that your dragon looked like a prince at first sight.

Taking a deep breath, you observed the surrounding for any sign of a furred jacket or crouching man. This particular neighborhood was quieter at night than in Ikebukuro, and while you’d love to admire the silence, you had to admit it seemed rather eerie. Then again, it wasn’t as if the people would be bothered to help you anyway.

When he wasn’t feeling so mischievous, Izaya was willing to share some of his observations regarding human nature. And during his ‘benevolent’ mood, you’d learned a common occurrence called ‘Bystander Effect’ in which individuals were less likely to help a victim when other people were present. Although his words were condescending and contained a hidden warning, the impact was still felt until today.

The enlightening yet crushing lesson that nobody would assist you when you needed it the most.

It didn’t matter, though. You were certain someone would be willing to extend a hand once they saw how desperate you were. His warning might be rather depressing to hear, but you couldn’t let it cloud your judgment. It’d be the same as letting him win, and you couldn’t afford that.

Now, you just had to find a person. Anyone, even if it had to be that bespectacled man. You had a feeling he was the only one who could deter Izaya from approaching you, but the question is: where was he? How could you find him when you were stuck in some unknown part of the city? Was this even Ikebukuro anymore? Just how many safe houses did Izaya own?!

You screamed when a pole suddenly collapsed before you, effectively blocking your path. The tremor rocked the ground, almost ripping the very soul out of your body. Several knives punctured the iron, and while ordinary people would wonder how they could get there or why they were there, you knew.

He was here and had possibly been watching you for quite some time now. And he did it all without your knowledge, just like he always did.

The realization spiraled you down the familiar panic attack when you first woke up in his room. Jittery hands clutched your heaving chest as you crumpled, the pure terror and tears blurred your gaze. A pair of arms clad in dark, furred sleeves emerged from the darkness and gently enveloped your shivering body from behind. The owner tried to shush you, but it was just background noise. You couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t feel the comfort he attempted to provide through affectionate whispers and caresses. You could only feel the impending doom, the pulverizing sense of helplessness within his embrace. You could only hear the demons cackling within his voice, jeering at your pathetic efforts to escape him.

Once again, the dragon had captured the princess. And this time, he ensured there would be no chance for her to slip through his claws again.

“Don’t cry. It’s your loss, after all, for not trying hard enough. Just a few blocks away, you’d find the police station. But your legs can’t possibly carry you that far, can they?” Izaya simpered. “What a shame. Had you were lighter on your feet, I’m sure you’d be able to find the freedom you’ve been looking for. But, alas, here you are again! In my arms, where you always belong.”

A sigh drifted from his lips as he stroked your quivering jaw. “You know, had I didn’t know you any better, I would've thought that you’d purposefully challenged me. Ah, my sneaky little princess. You really are a mischievous one, aren’t you?”

“Izaya, please… let me go. I… I promise I won’t tell anyone that you… that you...”

“That I’m what? Loving you? You should be more specific with your request, [Name]-chan. Otherwise, I might get the wrong idea later~” Slipping out a syringe from his pocket, Izaya pricked your neck and slowly thrust the plunger. “Unfortunately, it’s time for you to sleep now. Wouldn’t want to make the neighbors angry with your incessant noises, no?”

Discerning your drowsy visage and sluggish movements with a wicked glint in his eyes, Izaya plucked the syringe and grinned triumphantly. “Sweet dreams, my princess. I’ll see you soon~”

#anime yandere #anime yandere au #yandere imagine #yandere oneshot #yandere anime #yandere anime au #yandere scenario #yandere izaya orihara #yandere izaya #yandere izaya x reader #yandere izaya orihara x reader #yandere durararara #yandere drrr

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 4 years

Text

Thru the Window- Joe x Reader

(prompt: you're living in the Netherlands with the Def Leppard crowd while they're recording Hysteria. You're Joe's girlfriend, but you're both trying to keep your relationship a secret)

Inspired by the song "Thru the Window" by REO Speedwagon (a song about this ever so classic and adorable trope. I also tried to use as many of these lyrics as possible :3D)

------

(June 1986)

Joe's eyes shifted over to the clock on his nightstand yet again after another five seconds had passed. He just couldn't help himself. It was 11:22, and 11:35 couldn't possibly come soon enough. A warm breeze blew through his open window, hitting the bottoms of his feet as he lay flat on his back. There was adrenaline pulsing through him so ardently that he tried to will it away, but it was no use. He was too excited, and he had to wait at least another ten minutes or so before he could act on it.

His eagerness had certainly slowed down time itself tonight, and it had definitely gotten the better of him in multiple ways.

For one thing, his leg wouldn't stop bouncing. For another thing, he'd gotten changed far too early, and was laying on his bed in his date clothes. His "date clothes" (being a rather unflattering combination of a Cheap Trick t-shirt tucked into some sweatpants) weren't meant to be anything to look at, but he wanted to be as casual as possible. The goal was to be unrecognizable (as much as you could be at this time of night), but pleasing.

Either way, Joe knew you wouldn't mind it. To him, these 'dates' you two had weren't done for the looks. You saw each other enough that you didn't give a shit about proper attire.

Joe's hands were neatly and formally folded on his stomach as he stared up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. With nothing to distract him, his mind was on the verge of running mad. There were so many things he could've been thinking about as he waited, such as the tremendous progress that had been made in recording the new album, whether or not the jukebox at the pub got fixed yet, or what he'd have for breakfast the next morning.

What he actually chose to think of was "Why did I turn off the light, again?"

Some answers were quite simple.

"Oh yeah. Cos' to everyone else I'm 'asleep' right now."

The light being off was just a small but vital detail to the plan you two had for the night.

Once his own question was answered, his mind moved onto the next topic: another five seconds had passed. Joe turned his head to look at the clock again. 11:23. Great.

His head angled back upwards, seeing the imaginary dots and waves of colors appear before his eyes in the dark. His leg still bounced, his hands began to weave together, and he closed his eyes to hum the first tune that came to mind. It was necessary to drown out the sound of the ticking clock in his head.

Joe inhaled slowly, and held the breath for a quick instant. Just ten more minutes, he told himself. Ten more minutes, and then he could go. Ten more minutes. Ten. Two sets of five. Five sets of two. Just ten more-

"Fuck it," he lowly said as he sat up and put on his shoes.

Oh well. These dates weren't about being on time, either. 'On time' was late, after all. He wanted to decide when the time had come.

After slipping on his shoes, double checking that he had his wallet, and triple checking that his door was locked, Joe pushed open the window sash to create a more ideal opening to slip through. Into the darkness he went, out onto the fire escape, then he descended to the ground below. He began on the second floor, so each step lower was done with the utmost caution.

When he reached the next level, his heart jumped upon seeing the light still on in Malvin's room. Flattening himself next to the window, Joe carefully climbed over the railing of the fire escape and lowered himself down until it was safe enough to let go.

His feet met the ground, making a firm landing. He looked back up at the lit window and grinned under the open summer sky. He'd slipped away like a thief in the night.

Joe's legs began to move, trotting to the other side of the hotel (the side by the lake), and feeling the warm breeze rushing by his face. He couldn't help but smile; all his pent-up adrenaline was finally being put to use.

As always, he made sure to race for the shadows of the building to make a trail no one could follow. He was always beyond careful, making sure nobody would ever see or hear his driven intentions. It was better that no one knew. It was more fun that way for both of you.

Your silhouette became clear to him once he reached the other side, your window now visible on high. Joe slowed his run until he was a few yards from the base of the hotel. His head angled up to your room, taking note of the dim light from within. You weren't facing the window, but Joe knew you were waiting for him on this summer night.

He could've sworn he sensed your excitement, too; he could practically hear your heartbeat. It may have been his own heightened sparks of joy pounding in his ears- as he knew he was unarguably early. Still, date night was date night, and the singer was eager to kick things off. There was no time to lose. It was time to announce his arrival.

After reaching down into the grass and locating a small stone, Joe found a trajectory from where he stood, and flung his attention getter up at your window.

***

Your eyes shifted over to the clock on your nightstand once another five minutes had passed. It was 11:27, and 11:35 was just around the corner. Smiling, you turned back to your mirror and leaned forward, finishing up the last bit of your makeup. A warm breeze blew through your open window, lifting thin strands of your hair up to slightly flutter in front of your eyes.

It was true that you didn't need to dress up in any way, but your excitement had gotten the better of you. The plans for the night urged you to be dolled up at least a little bit. Who cared if it was going on midnight? You were still going out on a date, and you were still going to be in public. Some jeans and a crop top were just right for the occasion- with it being a warm and breezy night. The outfit was casual enough for the pub that you and Joe called your own, but flattering enough that you knew Joe would love it.

You drew back from the vanity and admired your appearance. Tonight would be great without a doubt. All there was left to do was wait for the man of the hour. Maybe you'd wait at the window and-

The sound of something landing behind you grabbed your attention. You turned and looked to the floor, spotting a small stone. Your eyes squinted from confusion, but your mouth angled into a smile.

To the window you went, and you gazed outside, seeing Joe down on the lawn below.

"Really?" you gently scoffed at him.

He looked a bit embarrassed, "Sorry! I didn't see it was open 'til it was too late..."

You chuckled and shook your head, turning back to stuff your wallet into your pocket and to switch off your lamp. With your room now dark, and your door locked, you slipped away through your own window, and made your way down your own fire escape.

Joe held out his hand once you were within reach, and led you down the remaining stairs.

You told him, "You're early."

He immediately retaliated, "You're lucky."

"How?"

"You don't have any acquaintances living below you," he tilted his head sweetly, "When I climbed down just now, Malvin was still awake. He could've caught me, you know..."

You rubbed your thumb over his hand and scoffed, "I doubt that- you're too sneaky."

"Could say the same about you, you know," he teased back, placing his other hand on your waist and moving in closer.

"That's why we're a good fit," you declared before moving your hand to the back of his head and kissing him. Another breeze blew around you both as he locked you in the embrace.

When it was broken, he quickly stepped back and pulled on your arm, urging you to come along jokingly, "Now quick, before anyone sees-"

He dragged you forward, adding, "I've got a good feeling the jukebox is gonna be fixed tonight!"

You laughed as you began to run next to him, both of you now running freely through the night in the open street. The energy between both of you was high, making it a thrill to be alive in that moment. Such high emotion was bound to make the date night better than it'd ever been, taking you both where you'd never been before.

Yes, you could have taken one of your cars, but then there would've suddenly been a higher chance of someone seeing that at least one of you was gone. It was just another minute detail to ensure the safety of your plan. Even the pub you and Joe normally went to was one that the others probably didn't even know existed.

The route to get there was a simple one; you always liked to say that it was "over the bridge, five blocks east, and down a dirt road that is barely a street". You were both still running when you ran over the bridge, eager to get to your relationship's safe haven. It was only when you reached said bridge that you slowed to a normal walk.

You hugged Joe's arm, laughing and panting as you crept around the neighborhood "It's such a perfect night- I'm so glad we planned a date tonight."

"Yeah, couldnt've asked for anything better," he grinned up at the stars, "We made an easy getaway, too."

"Not often we get nights like these. Remember the night you were in my room and Phil almost came in?"

Joe cackled up at the sky, recalling, "Ah- yeah, can never forget that one. We barely got away with that one. How did he not hear me talking?"

"I have no idea, but I've never hidden someone that fast in my life- let alone someone as big or as naked as you were."

"Oi!" he whined, "You want a date or not?"

You giggled and rested your head against his arm, "I'll behave, I swear."

"Good, cos' the fun hasn't even started yet," he warned, tenderly putting his other hand on your arm. In a few minutes, the dirt road was in sight, looking like a familiar and secret setting of a dream. At the end of the street, the glowing lights of the secluded pub were now visible.

"I'll race you," you smirked before bolting away from Joe and down the street.

Instantly, he bolted after you, "Hey!"

He caught up quickly (his long legs being an advantage), and stopped you by gripping the back of your shirt. He did his best to take you in his arms, but tripped in the process, sending you both down to the dirt at an angle. You both hit the ground laughing, rolling onto your backs and cackling up to the summer stars.

"Sorry-" Joe huffed. You both paused for a second or two, then he rolled over to quickly straddle and pin you to the ground.

"What are you doing?" you laughed at him, as if you didn't already know. He stroked your hair back with a loving smile, leaning down and softly kissing you. He was tender for only that second before kissing his way down to your neck, making you squirm underneath him.

"Ah- Joe!" you squealed, your face flushing up, "Cut it out! We're outside-!"

"Oi!" a different voice sounded off not so far away. You both turned your heads to see the owner of the pub standing out on the front porch, sending a parental scowl at the pair of you.

"Adrian- he's mad, I tell you!" you adopted a fake tone of helplessness.

"She started it," Joe blamed with a smirk.

"You two again, huh?" Adrian scolded you, "I'll be having no filthy business at the porch of my pub, you hear? Save it for the pool room."

"Yes, dad," Joe whined, shooting a cranky scowl down at you, rolling off and helping you up. You hit him on the arm playfully, him flinching at first, then putting his arm back around you. You both faced Adrian and began to walk up to the porch.

"I haven't seen the pair of you for almost 2 weeks, what's happened with ya?" he asked.

You answered, "Ah, studio troubles."

"And you're still keepin' this a secret, I take it?"

"It's the way we like it! It's more fun that way," Joe told him, " 'Our little secret' keeps the adrenaline going. Is the jukebox working again?"

"Been working since last week," Adrian's eyes followed you both as you edged closer, "Got 6 new singles on it now."

Joe's eyes lit up, "Oh, brilliant, which ones?"

"Ah, I can't remember, you'll see them soon anyway."

You got to the porch, Adrian holding the door open for both of you. With your date a threshold away, you stopped and asked him quietly with an air of implication, "Oh, also... when will the pool room be open?"

You looked at Joe with a devious smile. He returned it to you, beaming with similar energy.

"I can have everyone out of there by midnight if that's what you want, darling," Adrian gave a single nod, a glint of understanding in his eyes.

"No need to rush it, mate," Joe clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Take your time. We've got all night, after all."

"Well I've only got until 2:30," he warned, "So I'll let you kids know as soon as I can."

"You're the best," you leaned up and kissed Adrian's cheek, "Thanks for everything, as always."

"Don't mention it, love. You two be careful, now."

Both you and Joe droned as you walked inside, "We know."

With that, you both disappeared into the warmly lit building, feeling the summer heat as well as the heat of each other. It was always a dream come true with Joe no matter what; a dream with no one else to flaunt it at except each other, and it was more than enough.

Your own little secret world was just between the two of you, and that was the way you liked it best. That was all either of you really needed, anyway; each other.

The end

#def leppard #def leppard fanfic #original content #Joe x reader #Joe Elliott #Phil Collen #Joe Elliott x reader #def leppard x reader #reo speedwagon #i finished this in March but wanted to wait until the summer to post it flelllhpdlphphpd #I KNOW I ONLY WRITE/POST JOE X READER SHIT DON'T @ ME #I CAN'T HELP IT #i know this fic is really stupid but i immediately fell in love with this song & wanted to write some adorable aesthetic summer fantasy shi #and i want everyone to like this song too bc hhhhhhhhITCAPTURESTHEFEELINGOFASUMMERNIGHTANDILOVEIT

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

Text

09. That’s How Hope Died

My apologies friends and familiars, but I absolutely don’t think that I can continue to do this story as standalone pieces anymore and to add on to the possibly not great news, there’s more chapters of story to be told here. But, those who can stay, I’m glad to have you here. 2721 Words, Trigger Warnings: Mental health issues, abuse, child death, grief

The key to having a successful “challenge” video or a hot “remix” was to have a plan proactively. Grace would have about a dozen different new choreos in mind at any given time, and she worked on beats a lot when she probably should be doing other things. She had various number outfits in mind. She had remix beats in mind and the clips of videos that she might want to add to such remixes. This was her happy getaway. The hours that she put into all of her dance training, her classical music instruments, and her academics made her feel like she earned a few to just create things that she enjoyed. And she had an outpouring of creativity from 14-16.

Whenever a new hot song would come out, she would hear it and wonder how it might sound if she remixed it with the R747 (she named all of her creations with “stock numbers” until they became associated with a released song). She might think to herself, the choreography C929 will be perfect for this! Even her performance outfits, “And if I wear the W23… well… This is gonna be fire!”

So, she might hear, for example, a new song by Ghairrisahn ft Fr8-Tre/in (for the old folks, that’s pronounced Garrison, ft Freight Train… See, Garrison is how it’s pronounced, but she spells it that way to stand out and well, Fr8-Tre/in’s name is Treyvon, they called him Tre growing up and you know, Freight TRE and add the “N,” sound like a play on words?) Her parents absolutely wouldn’t have listened to her explain. The hired help often had to, though, especially if they happened to be around while she was creating or putting together creations for presentation…

She would hear the song, decide and type into her phone’s notes: Shucky Ducky by Ghairrisahn ft Fr8-Tre/in. R747. C929. W23. As soon as she got home, she would check to see if any challenges or remixes of the song were released yet, because the Internet was fast and she was at school all day and sometimes, rehearsals well into the night. If it wasn’t already a thing, or if it was a thing, but the thing was null, she would make the remix of the song with her remix beat, then play it as she wore the outfit she prepped and performed the choreography she created. Then, she would post it, atting the artist, and hashtagging the song, TheApex, ApexChoreo, ApexBeauty,ShesBeautyShesGrace,Gracecore, (song title)remix and challenge, among others.

All of those would always skyrocket. Her favorite artists would always eventually see them, sometimes soon. Ghairrisahn even said that she wanted her to be in one of her videos. (Her mother was attentive to that bit of information when she shared it).

When she called Simon to tell him, he already knew. Of course he did. That dude was always on his computer. He always had hella tabs open. He was working on maybe 4 assignments for school, at least 2 of his stories, keeping up with his favorite fandoms, and checking social media - which he hardly ever got on to talk to people that he knew in real life, but he still was entertained by many of them and usually kept watch of all of her pages, whether or not it dawned on her.

When they were 15, she was invited on a summer tour with Ghairrisahn, to dance. It was a dream come true for her, even though her parents were very reluctant to agree to this. Filming a music video was one thing, but gallivanting across the country all summer was another thing entirely. “Mom, this would be just like if I had gotten the ballet spot in Germany!”

“No it isn’t. THAT was a world renown dance troupe and you BLEW it. THIS is some girl who sounds like she’s singing underwater, never wears a full sized blouse and almost unquestionably engages in recreational smoking.” Simon was typing on his phone. He didn’t get involved.

“She is a Grammy award winning icon! Everybody knows her. You know who knows that dance troupe? Ballet heads. That’s who. Mom, to be successful, in this day in age isn’t just about money and high standing. It is about fame and visibility! AND, if I’m on tour, I have that many places to use my products and promote the brand and bring in revenue to the company!”

Mrs. Monroe sighed, “Alright. That sounds like a good idea. But, I’m sending you with your team. You’re not to be in the same vehicle as that marijuana girl. You’re to only interact with her and her team for business purposes and you will adhere to the schedule that your team provides.”

She clenched her fists and jumped up and down, excitedly. Simon’s eyes looked up from his phone to watch her, but he didn’t react in any other ways until she rushed over and hugged him, “We’re going on the road with Ghairrisahn!” She squealed.

He sighed and wiped a hand down his face, “Grace, I can’t go on the road with you this summer. You know I have like 6 different major things that I need to do this year.” Her face fell. “I wish I could. I love Ghairrisahn. She’s my top five celebrities whose hair I wanna smell…” Grace and her mother both made disgusted and confused faces that he ignored and kept talking, “But I literally have a major engineering program, a science camp to prepare for this upcoming school year, the journalism workshop, orientation for the early college courses path, the Dean’s meet and greet, and I’m heading some things for the scouts that I signed on to before I realized that I’d have to do some of the other things. I can’t go right now. Junior year is the most important year of my high school career. Not to mention, you know that I’m being emancipated next year. I just… I don’t have time to tag along this time, Grace.”

She nodded her head, sadly. “Well, that’s cool. But, I mean, I’ll be able to fly you out to a show or two, right?”

He shrugged, “Send me the tour schedule when you get it, and I’ll let you know.”

“What’s your mom gonna do while you’re doing all of that?” She asked. He frowned and stared at her. She was concerned. He knew that she didn’t mean any harm. But, asking about his mother while her mother was still around was pretty inconsiderate, even for her. She must’ve realized from her face that it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. Because she fell back and clasped her hands together, “Well, since we’re both still around, let’s go do something in town together. You do have a little free time right now, right?”

“Yeah,” he said defeatedly.

“Yeah,” she imitated and reached out for him with her hand to pull him up off of his favorite cushioned lounging chair. “Mom, we’re going!” Grace called. Her mother had stopped paying attention to them several minutes ago, pretty much whenever the conversation no longer concerned her. She didn’t even hear Grace excuse herself.

“It’s hot! Why do you ALWAYS have on a hoodie?” Grace asked.

“I don’t have one at school.”

“Because they aren’t allowed.”

“Exactly. We’re not at school. Nobody can tell me what I can and can’t wear,” he said.

They were quiet for a moment. She didn’t know what was wrong with him, but she knew that something was. “Hey, do you wanna record ourselves doing skateboard tricks?” She asked.

“Is that your way of asking me to record you doing some skateboard tricks, Grace?”

“You can do yours too!” She laughed.

“I just wanna walk right now,” he said. She bit her lip and danced alongside of him, singing Shucky Ducky. Simon looked over at her and the smile of his features returned. She was good for that. Making him feel better about things that really just didn’t feel good. After a while, some thought, letting it rush around in his head, he said, “She’s going to go live with my grandmother.” Grace stopped dancing and stared at him with wide eyes. “She refuses to go to a hospital. I can’t get dad to come home right now and I just… don’t have the time to care for her. I was gonna be gone in a few months, anyway. Leave it to her, I never did anything to even help her over these years. The story that my grandmother believes is actually quite different from the events that my mind has collected.” Grace rubbed his back, but didn’t say anything. Simon had tears welling up in his eyes. “Do you know how many times she’s taken a swing at me, and I’ve had to restrain her to keep her from connecting? How many times she’s yelled at me, berated me for innocent missteps and mistakes that children simply make? All of the times that I wanted to just put that pillow over her face and not let go until she stopped moving?” He was shaking. “Now, apparently she has bruises all over her that I supposedly put there and my grandmother just believes that I’m capable of it, because I killed my sister, why not try my mom too?” He roared at the sky and covered his face with both hands.

Grace looked around for some place to sit, and just decided on the grass under a tree. She led him over, sat him down and rested on her knees, looking at him, but not knowing what to say. He didn’t really talk much about his sister. What she knew about it was what she had looked up on news sources on the Internet (only to understand more, not to be sneaky or harm him in any way), and she never brought up what she learned, because she knew it would be very painful for him.

According to every source that she had found, the little girl’s death was an accident. She and her brother had been playing, they got into an argument, she ran off, he gave chase, she climbed up a ladder to try to hide in the attic, he pulled her leg and she fell and hit her head. It was an accident. A freak accident. She shouldn’t have been able to die from the fall. There were a few reports that the boy had possibly “thrown her hard” to the floor, but even knowing how angry Simon could get and not actually putting it past him to accidentally get that angry, she rationalized that even still, at 10, he wouldn’t have had the strength to cause reasonable damage to a 4 year old. She wanted to tell him that right now, but he didn’t know that she knew that much about it and it seemed like it might only upset him more to find out that she looked into it.

He was red in the face, hot, breathing hard, and crying, and he didn’t want her near him or looking at him at the moment. But, there she was. Where else would she be?

“Simon, I’m so sorry that your mom… is the way that she is. But, on the bright side, she’s not gonna be your problem anymore. She’ll be your grandmother’s and I mean… that’s her daughter. Who knows what she might have done to contribute to the person that she became…”

He looked up suddenly and stared at her in horror, “Do you think I’ll be like that? Do you think… I mean… I get so angry and I get violent, and I lash out… Do you think I’m like her? Am I gonna treat my family that way? My kid?”

Grace leaned forward to place her hands on Simon’s shoulders and said, “I think that you’re the best person I’m ever going to meet, that is of course until you have kids, because then they’ll be the best people, because you’re not going to make the same mistakes your parents did. I think for what you’ve been given, your anger and violence and lashing out is totally justified. And it isn’t like you just go around beating up the defenseless. I mean, yes, sometimes… we’re a little quick on the draw and maybe hurt somebody that probably didn’t deserve it that much, but there are actual school shooters and like… pedos and stuff out there. A kid who beats on people who deserve it every now and then, destroys some stupid property or whatever is like nothing compared to like… those types.”

“So… I’m not a good person, just not the worst,” he said.

“You’re the best person I KNOW.”

“You know like 3 people.”

“I know plenty of people!”

“Outside of your immediate family and me, name ONE.”

She stammered and he laughed a little. She was grateful for that, even if she was flustered. “The red… um… shirt… Cameron!”

“Cameron… The… guy who works at the Target right outside of the gated community?”

“Yes! See… I know people.” Now, he laughed heartily and threw his head back.

She knew kids at school who gave her presents’ names. She would always thank them and say something nice to them about their presents, whether or not they liked them. It was a trend to give her things and IF someone noticed her using or having the thing later, they had bragging rights, though no matter what anybody gave her, she preferred anything that Simon gave her over all of them. They never understood why, but she did. She knew that their presents came from wanting her to love them. His presents came from already loving her.

“Hey… do you want to go visit her?” She asked.

“Visit who?” he wondered.

“Hope,” she said. He looked startled. He knew that he never told her his sister’s name, but now that he was calm, she was testing the waters to see how he felt about her having at least some portion of knowledge.

He whispered, “I never go there.”

“I won’t try to force you,” she said.

After a moment, he said, “I want to…”

His hands were shaky until Grace took them in hers and smiled up at him, “Then let’s do it. We’ll stop by a shop and get her a nice bouquet.” She let go of one of his hands and pulled the other to follow her. He still didn’t want to say more about his sister, but some part of him wished that the visit would change something inside of him. He didn’t want to think about the word “Hope,” to describe his desires. It felt wrong.

He cried a lot. Grace smoothed her hand across his back and remained quiet. After a long while, and he was seemingly out of tears, she said, “Maybe I should skip the tour. I’ll probably have opportunities like this in the future. I’m pretty hot right now.”

“You always are.” He wanted to tell her not to do that. That she deserved to go on the tour and that she should have fun, but just like when she wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to write about his family to get into the academy, he didn’t have the nerve to openly oppose what was best for him.

What was best for him was that the one person that he could cry in front of was there for all of the summer nights that he was already certain that he would cry from stress alone. But it was up to her, just like it had been up to him to decide that he wanted to be at school with her, even if he was going to have to hurt a little to get there.

The difference was she ultimately decided that it was best that she went. He didn’t like it, but they had been apart before in the past and even if she had been in town, he was going to be constantly busy anyway. Still… he emotionally logged it as a time that she was not there for him when he needed her to be. Was it fair? Maybe not. But… it was simply how he felt about it.

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics

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phoneboxfairy · 4 years

Text

No More Interruptions! Nalu smutfic

ao3 link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605495

Many wizards didn't have days off very frequently. Earning a living through jobs took high priority, especially when rent was due. So when more well known wizards, like a certain dragon slayer and celestial mage, actually did have a free weekend, you can bet they took full advantage of it.

...or at least they tried to, anyway.

Team Natsu had been running almost nonstop for weeks now. Lucy's rent and bills were paid and her fridge was full of food. And honestly, they were all feeling pretty worn out.

So when Erza suggested that they take a few days off before getting back to the grind, nobody complained. In fact, Natsu was quick to whisk his girl off to her apartment for some much needed private time.

"Brace yourself, babygirl. We ain't leavin' this bed much all weekend." He purred once they were cuddled together with the door locked behind them.

Lucy had no objections. As they worked on peeling one another's clothes off they shared kisses with steadily increasing heat. They made slow, sweet love until the waves of passion claimed them, then kissed and cuddled in the cool summer evening air.

After such energetic activity sleep came easily for both. The promise of more fun lingered.

Natsu woke up first, fairly early for a Saturday morning. He was quite content with stroking his girl's hair and skin as she dozed.

At least he was until he heard her let out a moan and felt her grind against his leg. He got an idea, a naughty idea he knew she would love.

Slow, careful, he slipped his hand down between her thighs. His fingers roamed over and past her blonde curls then stroked over clit and slit.

She moaned, shuddered.

Good sign. She always loved getting fingered, loved his teasing almost as much as when they fucked.

He parted her lips, breathing in her most intimate scent. That sweet musk... so tantalizing, so appealing.

Fuck, she's so wet...

Two fingers stroked over her slit then delved into her depths.

She whimpered, arched her back.

"Ohhh...oh na...Natsu..."

She's awake. Good. A wicked smile lit up his face. He slipped his free hand down and started rubbing her clit while he worked on fucking her with his other fingers.

The whole thing was driving her wild. She bucked her hips in time with his strokes and deliberately let her ass rub against his cock.

That's where Natsu got sneaky. He slowed down then pulled his fingers out. Lucy made a rather irate sound, but he ignored it. Making her edge was another fun bit of teasing he had just about mastered.

"Natsuuuu..." Pleading.

"Shhh, not like we're goin' anywhere today..." Chuckle. He kissed her neck, squeezed her breasts, and rubbed against her ass.

Lucy made another sound, this time a breathy moan that sent a not-unpleasant tingle down his spine.

Then...a rapping sound on the window.

Knock knock knock

"Hey Natsu!" Damn that cat!

In the space of a heartbeat the lovebirds were covered up in blankets. Natsu even had his hands on Lucy's chest. You know, added protection...that's what he would claim anyway.

"What is it, buddy?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go get breakfast at the hall but I see you've got your hands full!" Happy snickered...at least until Natsu glared at him.

"Yeah, we're good. See ya later on." He waved the exceed away then pulled the curtain closed. "Freaking interruptions!"

"It's okay, Natsu. We have all weekend to play." Her voice was a sensual purr. She reached over, delicate fingers tracing his forearm. "Would a Lucy Sundae make you feel better? I have some chocolate sauce in the fridge..."

"Yes please."

"Go on, silly." Airy giggle as she gestured toward her kitchen. He obeyed, bolted to the kitchen and back in record time with the bottle of sauce in hand.

Natsu would never turn down a blowjob, lived for the sensation of Lucy's soft lips and tongue savoring his cock. Yet he enjoyed lavishing oral pleasure on her just as much. Watching and hearing her reactions, tasting chocolate on her already sweet little pussy...now that was a special treat.

So he settled down with his head between her thighs. He parted her lips with reverent fingers, exposing her exquisite pink folds.

"Damn, Lucy..."

"Don't be shy now, Natsu. Anh...!" He flicked his tongue against her, swirled around her clit.

That was just the warm up. He loved taking his time with her. He opened the bottle and let a few drops fall onto her skin. She shivered at the sensation of cool chocolate against warm skin.

And she downright shuddered when he lapped up the slick evidence of her arousal.

"Na...Natsu? Is...is it okay if I play with your hair?"

"Duh. But only if I can squeeze your boobies."

"Do it..."

"As you wish, princess." He slipped both hands upward, caressed over her tummy, tickled her ribs. She giggled...at least until those very capable hands found her breasts. She tangled her own hands into his hair, mewling at the onslaught of sensation.

He squeezed, kneaded, pinched, and caressed all while taking his sweet time to taste every inch of her.

So soft, so squishy, so fun to play with. And the way she smelled and tasted...mmm.

"Lucy, baby, you taste like heaven. I wanna eat you until you come, then take you and ravish you like the goddess you are..." Her blush deepened. "Natsu have you been sneaking my dirty books again?" "Maaaaybe." Unrepentant chuckle. "Sounds good, though, right?"

"Sounds perfect. Less talk, more action, though...ahn...mmm, just like that..."

"Like this?" Warm tongue stiffened and rubbed over her clit. Her breath quickened, and she seemed to melt at the contact.

"yes..."

"Louder, baby." More rubbing. Lucy shuddered again and writhed against him. He watched her trembling, felt her hands tug his hair, tasted her getting wetter and wetter.

"Nat...Natsuuuuuu..yes....YESSSS!" Oh yeah. That was plenty loud enough for his liking. He smirked, then scraped his fang against her swollen little nub.

That did it.

The sounds Lucy was making, paired with the sight of her body writhing in the height of pleasure, was damn near enough to make Natsu lose it...if not for knowing damn well he wanted to bury himself deep inside her first...

Well, soon enough.

He cradled her in his arms, held her close and kissed her as those shudders subsided.

Slowly but surely their kisses went from soft and tender to deep and lustful. "Already?" Her stamina always surprised him. Not that he had any cause to object. "Yep. As delicious as that mouth of yours is, I'm kinda craving something...mmm, bigger." "Alright. I'm happy to satisfy that craving." A shared giggle and a particularly amorous kiss. Natsu reached down, worked on unzipping his pants, craving the sweet release only his woman could provide...

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK "Natsu! There's trouble! A dark guild is threatening to start a war!" "You've gotta be FUCKING KIDDING ME." He was furious. So fucking pissed, Lucy was surprised smoke wasn't coming from his ears. She wrapped herself in a sheet, squeezed his shoulder in an effort to make him calm down...at least as calm as he could get in this situation. "It's alright, Natsu. Let me get dressed and we'll take care of this." "No. You stay here. I'll handle it." She knew that growl, knew he meant some serious business. Best not to argue. She leaned over and kissed him. "Alright. Just don't take too long..." His posture softened a bit, and Lucy knew her kiss had tamed the dragon... at least a little. He nodded, pulled his scarf and sandals on, and bolted out the door.

She adjusted her sheet then stuck her head out the window, keeping an eye on a potentially interesting situation.

Natsu went barreling in, screaming at the enemy troops about how rude it was to interrupt someone who just wanted to have sex with their "smoking hot girlfriend, dammit!" Lucy blushed at that and slipped her head back in the window, peering out from the curtains for the sake of invisibility.

His entire body was ablaze, and being interrupted only spiked his temper. So it didn't take long for him to knock half the dark wizards out and send the other half screaming in terror with a well aimed Wing Attack.

Triumphant, he sauntered back to Lucy's apartment. He smelled like smoke, that campfire scent she found oddly irresistible.

And his eyes were smoldering.

She took one look at him, gazed right into his eyes, and let the sheet slip off her body. Then she wiggled her finger in a "come here" gesture. Pants, shoes, and scarf were all tossed aside.

He pounced and treated her to a passionate kiss that set the mood and made her heart race.

She expected aggression, expected to be pinned to the bed and treated to some rather rough dicking. But he grinned and pulled her close so they were face to face lying on their sides.

"Lift your leg here." He instructed in one of his low growls, gesturing towards his thigh, a little higher than where she usually rested her legs in such situations. She obeyed, wrapped both legs around him, then mewled as he slipped into her.

"You like this?"

"Yes. So deep, so...unh, so good..."

"Good." Deep kiss. Natsu nibbled Lucy's lip and started to move. Somehow it felt different, incredible as ever in a new way. Maybe it was the position. If so, both were keen on using it as often as possible. She clung to him while he moved, letting his hands wander downwards to squeeze her beautiful boobs and eventually stroke her clit.

That was when she started trembling, the way she did when she was really getting into it.

"Don't stop, Natsu. Please."

"Wasn't plannin' on it, Luce." He shifted a little, nibbled her neck as he went faster. "You know I love making my girl come. So...mmmmn, so hot watchin' ya get close to the edge, knowin' I got ya there..." "Only you, Nat...Natsuuuuuu~..." Not quite there, not yet, despite those delicious moans. "You love it when I fill you up, don't ya..." "Ye...Y...yesss.." "Then scream for me." Devilish smile. He pinned her down and fucked her even faster than before. Her pussy clenched around him, so warm and wet. He knew she was close, knew she would be in the throes of a delicious orgasm any moment now.

"Oh...nah...nnh.. NATSUUUUUUUUUUU!"

“Perfect…” He claimed her mouth with his own, a motion that was surprisingly tender. He came, shuddering, whispering her name over and over again against her lips. “Lucy...my Lucy..holy shit I love ya…”

“Love you too, Natsu. More than the moon loves the stars.”

“That’s a lot.” Goofy grin.

“Yeah, it is.” She grinned right back at him, then pulled him into a gentle kiss. “Hungry?”

“Nah. Not yet. I’m cool with layin’ here holdin’ you for a while first.”

“Me too.” One more gentle smooch as he pulled up the blankets then wrapped his arms around her. Both dozed off fairly quickly. They hadn’t planned on napping, not really, but neither could say they minded.

Weekends off were for resting and relaxing, after all. And where better to relax than in bed and in the arms of the one you loved?

~Fin

#nalu smut #nalu smutfic #nalu sexytimes #nalu smutfic.#my writing

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risenfrommyimagination · 4 years

Note

can i request peter x fem!reader where he had a bad day and the reader tries to make it better but he snaps at her but it ends in fluff please💞💞

Ok you really made my day a few days ago with this, because this is my first submission and aaaah I got way to excited, so here it is, thank you so much ♥

Please send me more submissions, I love to do that & reblog if you like it :)

8:13 pm

Rain is rustling against the window as you throw your phone in front of you, pulling your legs closer to you, trying to find a comfortable position in this bed. A book is lying in front of you – biology – showing you detailed drawings of the human nerve system. You read this during the last thirty minutes, trying to fit all the weird names and descriptions of nerves and muscles into your brain. It worked. Until you decided to look at your phone, wondering where your boyfriend was.

It’s Thursday night and it’s your movie date night. Like every Thursday each week. For almost two years now. At seven thirty. And he isn’t here.

It’s not uncommon that he is late. Spiderman duties. Sometimes something happened, he had to stay longer outside or when is Spidey senses noticed something. But then he’d write you, telling you he’d be late. But today, he didn’t.

“Don’t text and swing”, you always told him before he went out and he always smirked at you, kissing you goodbye before jumping out his window. Sometimes he did and although his messages were always cute and soft and you knew he paid attention to not crash into a traffic light or a building, you’re not very pleased about it. Being Spiderman was already a really dangerous job and despite Peter being great in what he was doing and having a really protective suit, there was still a spark in your body, that was full of angst.

You lean forward, pressing the home button on your phone. No new messages.

“Fuck”, you mumble, leaning back against the wall. Where was he? Or did he forget about your date?

No, he would never. This was your ritual. Started with the third date you had. Exactly here, in this room, with May probably waiting in front of the door, ready to chime in when she’d hear something different than movie noises. But at this time, both of you been too innocent to connect movies with the other thing – sex – and just sat next to each other, holding hands while stealing sneaky glances at each other.

And today a movie night consisted of a lot of cuddles, just wearing panties and a shirt, Peter mostly just his boxers. Him curled up on your chest, his head on your breast – or his personal pillow – and your hand brushing through his soft, brown curls, while you were watching one of your favourite movies for the thirty time. Sometimes High School Musical, just to hum along the songs, Peter sometimes pulling you up, dancing with you through the small room and sometimes Harry Potter, after you decided which part – Azkaban is the best – and then just watched the movie, totally drawn in to the magical world. And sometimes, when you didn’t want to watch either, some cliché romance comedy, which you sneaked from your mom’s or May’s DVD shelf, ending in both of you making out, ignoring the film, his fingers slipping under your shirt, pulling it up.

So yes, movie nights changed, but you loved it. And today, you craved for it. For his touch, him peppering soft kisses over your neck, teasing your soft spot. You haven’t seen him much last days, both of you had been fairly busy with school, chores and extracurricular activities. And Peter’s Spiderman duties.

Your eyes glimpse at the closed door. May is here, she let you in. You could ask her, if she knew where Peter was, but also you didn’t want her to worry. She worries so much about him, more than you do probably. You try to focus back on the page in front of you, whilst ignoring this angsty grumbling in your stomach. What if something happened to him?

You shove it away. No. It was a normal, rainy Thursday night and even though rain didn’t stop criminals from doing their dirty work, no one really got out on Thursday’s, right before the weekend started.

A noise comes from the adjoining bathroom and you look up. There is light coming through the gap between the door and the floor. You hear someone mumbling, swearing. A familiar mumbling.

Peter.

You jump from the bed, your heart relieved. A little bit. Steps carrying you to the door and you open it, slowly, glimpsing in the bathroom. Peter is standing in front of the mirror, his suit just covering the lower part of his body, right above his hips. There are visible scratches on his back from the last fight and a few new ones you don’t know yet. Behind him on the floor, the reason for the noise, a broken bowl, where Peter had put in some of your hair ties and clips for you to use them when you’re over.

“Since you always lose them here, I can also store them”, eHe hhehehehhe told you, pressing a kiss on your forehead. And you knew how much your heart grew just by this simple gesture.

Peter hasn’t noticed you by now which is – due to his incredibly sensitive senses – really off for him. Sometimes in school, he noticed you when you weren’t even in his sight. Girlfriend senses he calls it.

But now, they didn’t seem to work.

“H…hey.” You clear your throat, leaning a little bit against the doorframe. “You’re home.” No judging. No anger that he was late. He was home. It was ok.

But he doesn’t look up. No reaction from him. His hands gripping around the edges of the sink, you notice fresh bruises on them, scratched skin. “Hey.” You try again, stepping a little closer. Carefully, not to scare him. Sometimes, when he is really concentrated, just a little weird noise could make him flinch and overreact.

Peter doesn’t move. His chest is raising, you can see his muscles moving as he grips around the sink tighter and you bite your lip, hesitating. Then your fingertips meet his back. No reaction.

“Peter?” Gently, your fingers trail up, trying to not touch the fresh scratches. “It’s me. Your girlfriend.” A little joke, to loosen up the weird tension in this room.

Your boyfriend doesn’t react, not a single flinch in his face, no growling about your really bad joke. Something was off, but you couldn’t quite figure out what it was and it made you crazy. Because you though you knew him well.

“Do you want to…” You pause, licking your lips. “Want to watch your favourite movie? Star Wars?” Star Wars is his all-time favourite movie, his go to when he was sick and lying in bed, whining about himself and May cooking him soup and bringing him tea all the time.

Finally, Peter looks up, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the mirror and you feel a lump in your throat. His so brown and soft eyes are dark. And empty. If something has gone missing.

“Hey.” You lean to him, your hand grasping his hair. “Babe.” Carefully, you press a soft kiss on his shoulder. And he flinches, away from you, his back hitting the glass of the shower cabin, his left arm almost hitting you.

“Fuck, can you not…” His jaw clenches, you can see his lips trembling, something in his eyes is glistening. “What are you doing?”

“It’s Thursday, movie night…I….” Your voice is shaking, more than you want it to. “May let me…”“No.” Peter cuts you off immediately. “What are you doing?”

“I…” His jaw is clenched, fists balled and his eyes flinching.“I…” Tears are welling in your eyes, making it hard for you too see properly. “I wanted to…”

“Can’t you just leave me alone?”His voice is sharp, drilling into your heart and you back up a little. “Sorry I…” You gulp. “I’ll wait for you in…”

“I want you to leave.” The lump in your throat grows bigger. “What is wrong, I…did I…”“For fuck’s sake, can you just…” Peter runs his fingers through his hair, tugging it. A deep growl coaxes over his lips. “I had a fucking rough and shitty day and I just want to talk to nobody ok.”

His chest is raising heavily as the words hit you. Right in the heart.

He doesn’t want you here. Your boyfriend doesn’t want you here.

“Ok.” Suddenly you feel cold. Extremely cold. You turn around, tears welling up in your eyes and the bathroom door slams into the lock.

Somehow, you put on your shoes, collect all your belongings together. Your overnight bag, your phone, headphones. Then you head out.

You catch a glimpse of May standing in the hallway, asking you something, but you don’t hear it. Tears are running down your cheeks, your steps are echoing in the dark staircase, as you head down.

Down. Down. Just out of here.

Cold rain hits your face as you step out of the door, heading down the three tiny stairs, mixing with the tears still running down your face. It is pouring, people are rushing past you, covering their heads and trying to get in somewhere, but you turn left, walking down the street, not even bothering to pull the hood of your pullover over your head.

Your steps are slow. Slower than usual. Your gaze wandering along the rooftops, which are merging with the almost black sky, hoping you’d see a familiar silhouette.

A boy in a tight suit.

Swinging after you to hold you back. To tell you that he just overreacted. Snapped.

9:06 pm

Your hair is still a little damp as turn on the small light on your nightstand, slipping under the covers of your bed. Peter hasn’t texted you. Nor called you. There was no sign of him at all and although he said he didn’t want to talk to anyone, you hoped he would to you.

You sneak a glance at your phone the last time. No. No new messages. You turn it around, leaning your head against the cold wall behind you. Absolutely not the way your evening was planned to go out.

Your mum didn’t say a word when you came home, completely soaked, with red, puffy eyes. She let you go to your room, change, letting yourself drown in pity.

Maybe she’d ask you tomorrow what was up, when you would sit on the table, with your bowl of cereals in front of you, unable to eat anything. Then you’d tell her.

But what would you tell her? That you tried to be a good girlfriend to Peter and he snapped? Or just that he snapped?

Shaking your head, you grab the novel lying on your night stand.

Great Expectations a novel about a boy falling in love with a wealthy girl, trying to impress her to win her heart his whole life. Tragic and somehow sweet at the same time. And totally stupid at the same time, but you still had to read it and also write an essay about it. Peter and you started to read it together, reading small passages to each other, giggling about weird words and the whole situation.

Usually, Peter was lying on your lap when you were reading to him, giggling every time you impersonated every person in the story differently. Then you switched positions, you lying on his lap, his right hand playing with your hair, totally not concentrating on the text, but on touching you wherever he could.

It’s needless to say that you didn’t get very far along in the book.

You open the book at the marked page, sighing at the small writing. Although you loved books and considered to study literature after you finished school in summer, this book was horrible to read. Small, crammed font, long sentences.

Absolutely not perfect for your mood right now, where all you wanted to do was cry. You even wished you didn’t forget your biology book at Peter’s flat, somehow the human nerve system sounded more appealing to you than a love story.

Trying to focus back on the text, you pull you legs up, resting the book against them. Your eyes wander over the words, not even reading them properly, while your thoughts are switching back to Peter.

If he would have just talked to you. Normally, he’d talk about anything. About every child he saved from its bullies, the old lady he helped getting across the street, the criminal he prevented to get into the bank. Everything. And also, about his little fights with Ned, Flash mocking him in the hallways, him being angry at May, because she was so overprotective sometimes. He shared everything with you.

Something hits against your window. Probably just a gush of rain. You pull the blanket higher, your finger wandering over the line you just read.

The same noise again. A knock.

You put the book down, sliding to the end of your bed to the window. And there he is. Peter, sitting on the windowsill outside your window, his face slightly pressed against the glass, wearing no mask. You can’t see much, but he knocks again, waving at you. A soft smile on his lips and your heart stops.

With one movement, you get up and open the window and he slides in. Legs first, then the rest of his body, leaving a small pool of water on your floor. Clamped under his arm, your biology book. Looking a little bit soaked.

You step back, arms crossed, eyeing him, not sure what to say. “Hey ehm…” Peter’s right hand runs through his hair, as he holds up your biology book. “You forgot this at my place.”

Disappointment hits your gut and you gulp. “That’s what you came for?” You sit back on your bed, slipping right back under the covers and grabbing the Dickens novel. “Put it on my desk, be quiet when you leave. Mum is already gone to bed.”

Over the edge of the book, you watch Peter placing the book on your crammed desk, but instead of turning to the door, he touches the spider symbol in his chest, making his suit loose and drop to the floor. A warm shiver runs down your spine, seeing your boyfriend just wearing boxers, but you drop your eyes back on the book, ignoring him.

Slowly, he crawls into your bed, on his side. His warm feet bumping against your legs as he slips under the covers, his right hand taking the book from your hands, throwing it on the ground. “Peter, what…”

“I am sorry.” Wet hair brushes over your skin, as he pulls you close to him, his arms wrapping around your body. “I am sorry.”

A soft kiss on your neck making you shiver. Not enough to cut the knot in your throat.

“Your hair is wet.”“I didn’t want to snap at you.” Carefully, his fingers grace over your hip, drawing up to your arm. “I just…had a real shitty day.” Another soft, gentle kiss on your neck and you turn around. His fawn brown eyes meet yours, sparkling again, glossing.

“I am sorry.” Peter repeats, his nose nudging against yours. “I just…”You lick your lips, your fingers running through his wet hair, untangling it. “Talk to me…please…”

“I just…” He pauses, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was so happy to see you again today and then Ned yelled at me, because I messed up the formula and…I was so angry at me, because I never screw that up, but…”

Another pause, he rests his forehead against yours, his fingers playing with the fabric of your his old shirt. “Tony called me in a break, telling me something weird about a new project, which I can join, but it means I will be away during the summer before college and…”

A sting in your heart. “You’ll be away in the summer?”He nods. “I…this project sounds so good and I know we had other plans before college, I mean you wanted to look for a flat for us and now I’ll be gone and…” His brown eyes glimpse at you. “And it made me so upset, because I want to plan our future and…”

Trembling in his voice, you can see water pooling in his eyes.

“You know…” Gently you run your fingers through your hair. “I can also visit you Upstate.”“Despite the strict visiting hours?” Peter arches an eyebrow. “I mean Tony…”“Someone needs to take care of you.” Your eyes wander to his bruised knuckles, carefully grasping his hand. “What happened here?”“Tried to smash a wall.” He bites his lip. “I was so angry…but…didn’t work.”“Idiot.” You plant a soft kiss on his forehead. “I just felt…I would leave you on your own when I do the project….”

“Hey…I can look out for apartments on my own.” Your fingers grace over his cheek. “And send you photos.”“From you?” Lips curling into a smirk and you bump your knee against his. “The flat you smug bastard.” Peter chuckles, pecking a soft kiss on your nose. “I just…my brain was overreacting and then we had P.E. and I am so good at this and I failed and…I failed everything today…”

A shimmer in his eyes, he slides even closer, his body snuggling against yours. “Even the date night with my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Shut up.”“No.” He shakes his head, a few drops of water hitting your face. “I know you wanted to calm me down and I…snapped. Not a good Spiderman nor boyfriend today.”“Peter…”“I am sorry, really.” Soft shimmer sparks in his fawn eyes and you feel your heart melting. “Can I kiss you?” A gentle nudge against your nose, you feel his breath brushing over your lips as he props himself a little bit up.“You’re still asking?”He nods. “Very important. So…?”

You nod, pulling him down to you. Lips crashing against each other, slowly, passionate, your hands burying in his hair, pulling him even closer. “I missed you, bubs”, a quiet whisper against your lips, making your heart burst. “Missed you too Spidey.” He chuckles, his head sinking down on your chest, arms wrapped tightly around you. Not letting go.

“Babe?” Feather light kisses on your neck, trailing up to your cheek. “Still up for movie night?”Warmth in your heart. “Which movie?”“The best.” A short pause. “Goblet of Fire.”“Rude, we’re watching Azkaban.”

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