Tumgik
#i think i reread it too many times in the past month
Text
gosh darn it both my vatican trio fics are like. 90% done with maybe 200 words left, but for some bloody reason i cant manage to write the last 5 or so sentences necessary
0 notes
majoringinsarcasm · 4 months
Text
People hating on a literal child because she doesn’t physically look like a character in a book who we only ever saw in concept art and fanart vs me who was kinda sad when I realized book Percy wasn’t black because the description of a young boy living in New York who’s close with his single mother parent who is constantly seen as stupid troublemaker by both peers and teachers and his moms awful boyfriend and who’s only friend is the only other Outcast (non white) classmate who’s only ally is the literature teacher who then he finds also has doubts about him felt very if not fully black then at least mixed coded.
But then I moved on and enjoyed the story for what it gave me, can some of these people say the same 🤔
#I have not yet watched the show I’ll probably wait for more episodes bc I canceled D+ like two months ago#but idk many of yall are not 12 anymore and saying Leah won’t do a good job or it won’t be as good#we only saw any of these characters in our minds eye#or concept art#im not saying you can’t be disappointed when things aren’t 100% a match bc you want to see a good adaptation of the Book#and I need to do a reread but I would think Annabeth’s whole other shit aka running away cross country at 7 always being nosy and wanting#a quest being ready for battle but learning to have fun too#is more integral to her character ESPECIALLY IN MARK OF ATHENA#the blond hair in the books is a trait from Athena so it’s not a unique hurdle other girls in the cabin wouldn’t also face#it mattered bc she was a main character#But taking the core struggle of not being taken seriously works pretty damn well for any girl but especially black girls AT ALL TIMES#and not to be funny but saying the other characters are already diverse feels like a side step#like look Hazel in her eyes and say not being taken seriously BECAUSE of your HAIR COLOR is on the same level#as not being taken seriously because you’re a black girl#and if this breaches containment#yes the show would have been fine even if a picture perfect accurate cast had been hired#but if we want to move past people being cast bc of how they look vs how they act#you can’t hold the gospel of a book series against literal children who are probably having the time of their life#or would be if grown ass adults were attacking them bc SOMEONE ELSE HITED THEM#if the show is bad it’s not bc Annabeth is black or Percy is blonde#hell in good omens both leads are older in the book they’re described as looking 25 and 30#can you imagine good omens as it is now with book accurate casting bc I can’t
8 notes · View notes
sneepseverus · 2 months
Note
tysm
can i recommend a snapesmut fic? i just want to see him at the yule ball finding a fem reader in a carriage and decides to help her out if yk what i mean? and they make it a regular thing but not in just a carriage in like his class and that behind a paintin in the forest idk im not sure, i would prefer if the reader was a student cause i like taboo stuff but if your not comfy can you make her his assistant? ty it would mean alot
I made the reader his assistant here! As I reread the request, I realized I also made a slight modification; I made Y/N take the lead once they were in the carriage (hope that's okay! It just felt more natural with what I had in mind 🙏)
Warnings:
NSFW (MINORS DNI)
Riding, p in v, oral (F and M receiving), fingering
Word count: ~2.3k
Tumblr media
"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" you asked teasingly, knowing fully well the answer was no. There was nothing more Severus loved than attending school events after working hours and having to act as a chaperone for developing adolescents with raging hormones. 
"Obviously," he replied, letting out a huff. 
His sarcasm never failed to make you smile. Most people found him intimidating, scary even, and you'd be lying if you said you never felt that way. However, after working with him and getting to know him these past few months, your feelings quickly became warmer, hotter even. You had sometimes spent time outside work, but it was nothing more than a quick cup of tea. 
But tonight you decided it would be different. "Now's my chance!" you thought. You put in more thought into your outfit than you usually would have for an event like this, hoping that seeing you in a different context would make him see you more than his assistant, as a person (an attractive one, at that.) You practiced many times in your head how to ask him to dance; you didn't want to come across as too imposing, but you also wanted to let him know you were interested in having something more than a professional relationship. 
However, any semblance of confidence swiftly left your body. While he did acknowledge you when you made your way next to him, his expressions suggested he didn't particularly care that you were all dolled up for this event. He was more focused on the drink in his hand and the students dancing in the center. 
Unsurprisingly, you could only focus on one thing. It was a rare sight to see him without his cloak; it almost felt a little too intimate. Fuck, all you wanted to do was rip apart all those buttons and see what was hiding underneath. And those fingers; why were they grasping a glass and not your waist? You were hoping mistletoe would appear so you'd have an excuse to kiss him and…have his mouth do other things to you.
"No, now is not the time to be thinking such things!" you thought to yourself. Unfortunately, it wasn't as simple to stop as you would have liked; you could already feel the sensitivity rising in your core. 
"Excuse me!" you babbled before dashing off somewhere secluded so you could clear your mind.
You found an empty carriage outside and entered. Despite the frigid weather, it was the closest private place you could have at the moment. You took deep breaths, trying to erase all the explicit imagery forming in your head so you could carry on with the night. 
All of a sudden, you heard a bang from outside, and the door quickly opened. "Y/L/N? What are you doing here?"
Shit. "Oh! Severus, I…" you began, clearing your throat, "I needed some fresh air, is all. I'll be back inside in a moment."
"Are you certain? You looked quite flustered before scurrying off."
"Yes," you replied. "I'm all right."
"Oh, I see. My apologies. You weren't…expecting anyone were you?" he followed up, embarrassed. "If so, then I'll leave you be." Despite the darkness of the night, you noticed his fists tightening around his wand.
"Expecting anyone? Please, if it were someone, it'd be you," you blurted out, not realizing what you just insinuated until after the fact.
"Oh? And why is that?" he asked curiously, raising his eyebrows.
You could feel your cheeks become hotter. "I just mean—Oh, for Merlin's sake, the truth is…I could hardly keep my eyes off you tonight. I so desperately wanted to ask you to dance, but I got scared and ran off. That’s why I’m here. There you have it," you confessed. 
You expected him to leave awkwardly, but instead, he entered the carriage before sitting across from you and closing the door. "Well, since we are being honest here, I must confess that I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."
"What?"
"Yes. Seeing as I supervise you, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, so I tried my best to look away. But I must say, you look rather beautiful tonight. I mean, not that you don't normally do, but tonight especially, with your dress and jewelry and hair and…" he rambled. "But anyway, that’s expected; what isn’t is how you could feel similarly about me."
"Are you serious?!" you exclaimed. "How could I not? You're so captivating, the way you speak and carry yourself. How can they have us work together daily and not think I'd eventually become attracted to you? I'm surprised someone as intelligent as you can't see just how sexy you are."
"Sex…y?” he repeated. "Are you really certain you’re feeling okay? I think your lack of proper outerwear has somehow halted your ability to think correctly."
"Shut up! It’s true!” you maintained. "Your voice, your mind, your hands, all of you is so sexy."
"Well, since 'professionalism' clearly no longer exists in this space…I can easily say the same about you."
You weren’t sure if you were imagining his last sentence, but there was no time to think. "Fuck, just kiss me already," you ordered.
In just a second, your arms were wrapped tightly around each other as your lips crashed. Your fingers found their way into his hair, while his were exploring your back, slowly sliding down until they reached your hips.
Inside the limited space, you settled on his lap, pressing your core against his. His eyes lowered from your face to your cleavage placed right in front of him. As you felt his hardness developing underneath his pants, you began slowly grinding against it, eliciting involuntary moans from him. "Just tell me if you want to stop at any point," you breathed, but his expressions and hands gripping your lower back were clear indications of his willingness to continue.
You could feel your wetness building, and your need to feel him inside you was only getting stronger. "I want to ride you," you blurted out. You slid off him to pull down your soaked underwear, dangling it in front of him before throwing it to the side.
He paused, taking his time to process what was happening right before him. But not too long after, his fingers slid down to his waistband, slowly unbuckling his belt. He was embarrassed but couldn't leave you being the only one pantless.
As you lifted your dress up, his own bottoms came off, revealing his aching cock. "Fuck," he let out at the sight of you sliding yourself down on him with such ease.
With him holding you to keep you balanced, you began to bounce slowly up and down, letting out a moan each time. You gripped his shoulders, staring lustfully into his eyes before he dropped his head back.
"You fill me up so well," you uttered. With whatever remaining energy you had, you placed messy kisses all over his face. "Just like I've been dreaming this whole time.” 
Although he wasn't able to let out a single word, the soft moans leaving his parting lips were enough to tell you how he felt.
You couldn't keep it together any longer. As your bounces sped up, your orgasm took over while his hot cum simultaneously spilled deeply inside you. "Severus! Ah!" you screamed. When you were certain your body could not produce any more pulses, you slid off him, trying to regain your energy.
You helped each other get your bottoms back on, but there was no way you could re-enter the room. Even if you played it cool, nobody would be able to ignore the messy hair and lipstick marks all over his cheeks.
You exited the cramped carriage, gathering your composure.
"I didn't realize we were on a first-name basis," he finally said, smirking.
"We just fucked in a carriage; I sure hope we would be."
"You're right...Y/N."
As you made your way back to the castle, trying to find an entrance where no one else would be, you linked your arms around his. "I hope we can make this more of a regular occurrence.”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The next few weeks were even more exciting and scandalous than the night of the ball.
Nobody questioned you when you told your colleagues and superiors you had work to do with Severus in his office. Instead of marking papers, you were busy being bent over next to his desk while his cock filled you up, balls slapping against your skin with each pump. He had one hand gripping your hip while the other was cupping your beautiful ass. You made it clear you’d only let him fuck you if he overcame his fear of being too loud. Though his office was secluded from the rest of the castle, the thought of someone hearing him moan and groan from behind the thick walls made you come even harder. 
You thought he wouldn’t be able to keep up with your horniness, but you were soon proven wrong. One day after class ended, when Severus was certain all the students were gone, he locked the door and looked toward you cunningly. "If you’d let me, I’d like to taste that sweet pussy of yours," he confessed. 
Without hesitation, you sat on a clean table, spreading your legs widely for him to enjoy. 
His hands gripped your thighs before his fingers trailed up until they almost reached your center again, intentionally avoiding your sensitive bud. 
"Please, just eat me already," you begged.
"Shhh. Patience, my dear."
Once he was content with the number of moans escaping your mouth, he slid your panties down and placed his fingers on your mound, spreading your lips so he could get a good look at your clit. He pressed his nose against it and inhaled deeply, savoring your natural scent.
Finally, he let the tip of his tongue press against you. He closed his eyes and let it slide up and down through your slit. Once he realized how wet you were, he slipped a finger inside you and let his tongue concentrate on your clit. 
You took off your top and bra before falling back against the table and fondling your boobs. Somehow he maintained a perfect rhythm, giving equal attention to your G-spot and clit.
Knowing how much you loved the sound of his voice, he intentionally let out a series of vibrating moans against you.
"Fuck, Severus, I'm about to come!" you yelled.
You thought he’d take this as a sign to continue his pace, but he pulled away instead. "That’s 'Sir,' I'm about to come."
"Sir, please let me come! Please, I need it!"
Satisfied, he continued working toward your orgasm. He was practically devouring you with the way his tongue was lapping your whole pussy. With each moan from you, he sped up his pace, not leaving until he was certain you were completely finished. 
As you tried to catch your breath, he helped you sit back up, smirking at you. Seeing how wiped out you were, he was not expecting the next few words from you.
"Now, it’s your turn!"
"W-what?"
You hopped off and held his hand, leading him to the nearest open seat. You spread his legs apart before palming his erection trapped behind the confines of his trousers. Your fingers gripped his waistband, and you proceeded to unbuckle his belt. 
He raised his eyebrows as he let you pull his bottoms off. When his leaking cock sprang out, you beamed with joy and licked your lips at the sight.
He let out a low groan as soon as your fingers wrapped around his cock and dragged up and down the entire length. You let out a puff of hot air on his tip, teasing him just like he did earlier with you.
"Shit," he whispered, clearly willing and ready. 
With your free hand now cupping his balls, you let your tongue swirl over his tip and lick up and down his shaft, exploring every inch of his thickness. 
"Mmmh," you let out, pulling away for a second to compliment how he tasted.
He placed his fingers on the back of your head to balance himself and lead you to the right spots. He couldn’t help but buck his hips up toward you, forcing you to go down deeper.
Of course, he couldn’t last for as long as you did. Thick ropes of cum shot into your mouth as he let out a booming "FUCK!" His body was shaking uncontrollably until his climax finally came to a pause. 
With sweat starting to drip down his head, he kept his eyes closed, too tired to stand back up. You wiped your mouth and helped get his lower half covered once again.
When his brain started to clear again, he slowly got out of his seat and regained control of himself. "I believe it’s time for lunch," he stated nonchalantly.
But as you made your way to the Great Hall, you pulled him aside and trapped him against the wall before placing your lips on his. You didn’t care if anyone saw; if anything, you wanted a professor to catch you in the act. "Mmmh, Severus," you let out between kisses. 
He was too flustered to know where to place his hands, but they eventually settled on your lower back. 
When you finally pulled away, he stared at you, shocked. "My goodness, Y/N. I thought I could keep up with your energy, but I’m starting to have second thoughts."
"Trust me, there will be more where that came from. You'll build your stamina up in no time. I'll see you tonight…sir," you replied before winking at him, leaving what would occur later that day to his imagination.
401 notes · View notes
angelrari · 9 months
Text
emotional bruises · pt. v
lando norris / carlos sainz x singer!reader
faceclaim: emilia mernes
a/n; hi! once again tysm for reading this and leaving nice comments, i hope you enjoy this part!! (i feel we were all waiting for this to happen)
prev | next
· · · · ·
lando could feel his heart racing. these past two months he has imagined on multiple occasions how it would be when you met again, but he had never imagined it would happen this way. of course, your manager probably planned this months ago. whenever you were in the same town as him, your manager would contact the mclaren team and, together, they would make sure you stayed on the same hotel floor. standing in front of you, he felt paralyzed. he couldn't stop himself from scanning your body, admiring how pretty you looked.
your heart was beating so loud you thought lando could probably hear it and when you felt his gaze move up and down your body you felt the room temperature rise. god, he was handsome. it was undeniable that, even after these months, there was a connection between you so strong that it could cause a hurricane.
the elevator doors started closing and lando quickly moved his hand to stop it from doing so.
"hi y/n". he said, feeling uncertain about how you'd react.
"hi lando".
you stepped forward, leaving the elevator and planned to go straight to your room, but you lando spoke before you could move any further.
"please, let's not do this". he begged, looking straight into your eyes. "i- please, let's talk".
"lando, you know it's not a good i-".
"just ten minutes". he said and you shook your head. "please, y/n".
you followed lando to his hotel room in the same way that alice followed the rabbit down the hole. you knew it wasn't a good idea, but you were too damn curious. his room was an exact replica of yours, except yours was way messier. still feeling tipsy, you carefully sat down on the small sofa and he did too, after putting down two glasses of cold water in front you two.
"i've planned this moment in my mind so many times, but now i don't even know where to st-".
"why didn't you call?" you asked, interrupting his speech. "start there, give me the reasons why you didn't even try to explain it".
"because i thought it would cause more damage and it would hurt us both-".
"you gave up. you gave this whole relationship up, these past two years". you said as you felt your eyes start to water. "you didn't call because it wasn't worth fighting for, right?"
"no, i didn't gave up-".
"you did lan-".
"for fuck's sake, let me speak for a second". he said angrily. you could see it in his eyes, you were getting on his nerves. he took a deep breath before speaking up again. "i didn't call you or message you because i knew i ruined our relationship, because i felt so guilty knowing i had the best person by my side and that i lost her. and it was my fault. and i hated that, i hated myself for being selfish, for not realizing what i had when you were by my side".
"lando-".
"fuck, y/n, i missed you like crazy and i don't think i'll ever stop being sorry about what i did. you deserve better. i know. but god, i can't stop thinking about you. and i reread all of your messages every fucking night. and i still have your clothes in my wardrobe in monaco, because i can't throw them away". his blue eyes starred deeply into yours and you felt the sincerity in his words. "i never felt this way for anyone else and i'm terrified because i don't think i'll ever feel this way again. i miss you and it's haunting me the fact that i know that i lost you and that i still love you".
you couldn't stop the tears and neither could lando. feeling overwhelmed, you started sobbing into your the palms of your hands. you wished you were sober, so you could stand up and leave. but you didn't. neither did you pushed lando away when he held you in his arms for the first time in nearly two months. he hugged you tight as he kept whispering how sorry he was. you closed your eyes as his right hand caressed your cheek. maybe he misunderstood, maybe you way too drunk to process what was going on, but when he leaned in you neither did you stop him from kissing you.
· · · · ·
Tumblr media
· · · · ·
the next morning you called lily and told her everything that happened last night. you knew you messed up and now you wanted to run away. facing lando would probably be too much for you heart to take. so when she suggested you stayed at her hotel instead, you messaged your manager so he could start asking if it was possible. thankfully he didn't question you and he quickly arranged everything so you could stay in the hotel where lily and alex were staying. last night was a mistake and you swore to yourself it wouldn't happen again.
· · · · ·
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by jacquemus, heidiberger_ and 1,087,128 others
yourusername maybe i had to rent an studio because maybe i wrote a song and maybe i sent the demo to the label so maybe it will be on my album
view all 9,402 comments
username maybe i'm going insane wtf
username won't you get in trouble for spoiling this?
yourusername maybe!
username pause- ALBUM????
· · · · ·
hell no. lando called late at night, when you were in the empty hotel lobby listening to the voice notes your producer sent about the new song you wrote. lando knew that it'd been a mistake, he knew it the moment you lelt his hotel room last night and his thoughts only revolved around you. he knew it when he knocked on your door and nobody answered it. he knew it when he called daniel and he'd told him you were staying somewhere else. and somehow you felt sorry for leaving without giving him an explanation, but this couldn't happen again. you had to put an end to it.
"are you serious?". he said. by his tone you could sense he was mad. "this gotta be some fucking joke".
"last night was a mistake-". you started to explain, but he interrupted you before you could elaborate.
"and that's how you're gonna treat me? you're gonna run away and pretend i never exist for months until you want me again?".
"i'm pretty damn sure it wasn't me who initiated the whole thing yesterday".
"but you sure kept it fucking going!". his angry tone rose, quickly making your blood boil.
"look, i was drunk-".
"that's not an excuse".
"the same way it wasn't the night you cheated on me and i'm sure you still fucking used it!". you shouted. "look, lando. i don't know what you expected, but it's over. it was over that fucking night. it was over the night you chose somebody else over me. and i'm not gonna change my mind on this over some drunk sex".
the line went silent. lando hanged up, just like he used to do when you fought. what an idiot. you quickly made your way to the elevator and prayed that nobody heard you screaming at your ex. you wanted to get to your hotel room, be alone, grab the pillow and scream until all of the frustration was gone. you got on the elevator and, still feeling shaken from all of the emotions, you closed your eyes as you brought your hands to your face.
"hey, are you ok?". you heard a familiar voice ask and you instinctively looked up. it was carlos. he had got on the elevator before the doors closed. "y/n, you're shaking".
"it's nothing, carlos". you lied. you could see on his face that he was genuinely worried. "i'm fine- don't worry i'm gonna go-".
"i'm not leaving you alone like this, y/n". he said.
you tried to convince him that everything was fine, but carlos wasn't buying it. your eyes were red, you were shaking and you couldn't think straight. there was no way you could've fooled him. so when you arrived at the door of your hotel room and he had asked you if there was anything he could do to help you, you said:
"carlos, i- i think could really use a friend right now".
and he stayed.
· · · · ·
taglist: @roseseraj @katcontrreras @boiohboii @eugene-emt-roe @inesven @jjsprobablywrong @nooshytushie @willowpains @shessthunderstoms @thecubanator2 @black-swan-blog27 @sltwins @peachiicherries @ietss @elliegrey2803 @@be-your-coffee-pot @leclercloml @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @nooshytushie @incoherenciass @ironmaiden1313 @nmw-am @hopefulinlove
542 notes · View notes
kasagia · 2 months
Note
i was just rereading “losing your memory” and wondered, how do you think everything would’ve ended if coryo had won the election and now had the “upper hand”? cause if he tried to coerce the reader into a relationship it seems unlikely that she would comply willingly, but also it’s doubtful that she would go with him if he tried persuading her too because of how much power he now holds
And that's very interesting, dear anonymous! 🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵
You're right. If LYM Coriolanus had won the election, the reader would definitely not have come back to him or let him pursue her.
She has a strong character, is not afraid to make controversial decisions, and practically does not care about anyone's opinion except her own. She knows the Capitol's games; she knows how to play them and present herself well, and she will do so as long as she sees the point in her actions and is happy with them. I wanted to present her as... a force to be reckoned with, a someone who will stop at nothing to prove her point and get what she wants (of course, she has certain moral boundaries that she will not cross. Let's call it the blessed influence of Sejanus, which Coryo hates).
She only has one weakness, Coriolanus. Just like he has her as his weakness.
They are similar and, at the same time, different on many levels. While Coriolanus is more severe and merciless, spreading terror to maintain power and respect, the reader uses gentler means. Of course, she doesn't pardon everyone, but under her rule, peacekeepers are supposed to really keep the peace, not herald pain, suffering, and torture to the innocent ones.
Coriolanus throws threats left and right (of course, elegantly intimidating people so that no one else finds out), and the reader silently plans her revenge, smiling sweetly at the potential enemy. Her opponents do not know WHO could have brought them down. They don't expect to be hit. I think it's a bit like water and fire, but they have one shared purpose: The best future of Panem. To make sure that no one will know the pain they felt (mostly the pain the reader has seen in Coryo, Sejanus, Lucy Gray and all of them, because, well... her past isn't so clearly defined, is it?)
SO WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF LYM CORIOLANUS WON THE ELECTION:
If he had won in The Grudge…
"Just leave." he says, his eyes averting from you as he stares at the window overlooking the Capitol. You walk up to him and place your hand on his shoulder. He turns his gaze away from the city in front of him and looks at you questioningly, not understanding what you are doing right now. 'Coriolanus... I..." "And the president of Panem becomes… Coriolanus Snow! Congratulations, Mister President!" the hosts' shouts and fanfare echo from the television, interrupting you. It takes you a while to realise what happened. Your hand falls from his shoulder as you stare dazedly at the TV behind him. He won. He became president. Realisation hits you. You have no idea what will happen next. And... you're afraid. You are afraid that HE will never be close to you again like he used to. That after gaining the power he dreamed of, he will reach further. And the last few weeks... the last few weeks, maybe even months—had shown you that you couldn't live without him next to you anymore. You couldn't pretend anymore that he meant nothing to you. You knew he wouldn't let you do that. Because the terrifying truth was that... You needed Coriolanus Snow… as much as he needed you. "You won't even shake my hand? Am I not worth even that, Y/N?" He asks. You are not even aware that he had spoken to you. You act automatically. You shake his hand with a forced smile, knowing full well that he won't let you just move on. Neither of you could. You had two choices. Save yourself from him or stay with him, try to change him. However, you were no longer naive enough to believe that he could become someone else for you. Not after getting everything he wanted. There was one thing missing from his victory. You. And you're not going to give in to him that easily.
The reader does not take great risks if it is unnecessary, but she is ready to make sacrifices and 'abandon' the life she knows. And she herself says that if Coriolanus won, she would try to escape from the Capitol and disappear from Panem.
So that's what she does.
After this event, taking advantage of the fact that Coriolanus is too busy taking over the position of president, the reader prepares false documents and prepares to escape from the Capitol.
She doesn't listen to the advice of her parents, who still believe that she and Coriolanus will be together, and she doesn't tell anyone about her plans.
She, by herself, is in personal contact with the people who organize the transportation of people outside the Panem. She wants to have as few people as possible involved in her 'disappearance'.
So at dusk, she takes the small bag with her things and runs away.
She travels from district to district, avoiding all peacekeepers. She dyes her hair a different colour and dresses like a citizen of the district. She tries her best to blend in as little as possible, and she succeeds.
For a while, of course. Because Coriolanus will not rule without his First Lady by his side. He raises the alarm and makes up the story that you were kidnapped by rebels and that the Capitol and Panem need to get THEIR FIRST LADY back. Yes. He calls you that in public. And he personally gets involved in the search.
That's why you know you have to run. Run as fast as you can.
And just when you thought you could get away from him, he finds you.
Breathing quickly, you push through the crowd of people around you, hiding your face in the scarf around your neck. He was here. Coriolanus. You saw him when you were about to board a ship that was supposed to illegally transport a small portion of people out of the Panem. And just when you were about to give the secret password to the carrier, the port was swarming with peacekeepers. With Coriolanus at the forefront. You pushed and ran as fast as you could through the crowd of people, turning back every now and then. You know he noticed you. That he raised an alarm among his men that you were somewhere close. You had very little opportunity and time. You had to find a hiding place quickly if you didn't want to fall into the hands of President Snow. But apparently, you've already used up all your luck. You managed to avoid him for a year and outsmart him and his men. And now, when you were in the district you visited the least, which streets you had not had the opportunity to get to know thoroughly, you ran ahead blindly. And Coriolanus took advantage of it. You stop dead in your tracks as you turn into a side street and suddenly see a dead end in front of you. You look around, looking for any way to get out of it. A ladder to the roof, a manhole to the sewers, anything. But there is nothing that can help you. You scream at the top of your lungs as someone's arms wrap around you. You frantically struggle against the tight grip, shouting threats and curses. "Shhh. It's me, calm down, it's me, my little diamond." He whispers in your ear, which only increases your panic. He holds you tighter to him and puts his hand over your mouth. "It's okay; it's okay. That's enough. Everything will be okay. We'll go back to the Capitol, we'll get married, and we'll be happy. Everything's okay. Just don't leave me. Don't leave me anymore. You can't. Please, Y/N, I can't take it. Just stay. Don't fight anymore. There's no point. We belong together and nowhere else. I'll forget everything; just come home with me." You're crying. You tremble in his arms and cry. You feel his tears falling on your hair, but you don't think about him. You only think about that terrible truth, about what fate condemns you to, when he holds you tightly to him and carries you to God knows where, stroking your hair and whispering soothing words (for him, for you, it's like reading a death sentence). And his kisses that capture your tears are just a bitter reminder of how often he will be the reason for them. Because you know perfectly well how little time it will take for him to forget about you, too, now that he has literally everything.
68 notes · View notes
ameliawarnerr · 11 months
Text
POV: MC is drunk at Aurora and she texts Jake. 
One-shot (but with two parts. Two-shot? Maybe I'm drunk)
Part-1
Background story: When Jake could finally get free of the dark-web world, it was too late. MC told him that she'd moved on and it was best for both of them. But she confuses Jake again, texting him after she gets wasted. And Jake is confused and not at all happy about her recklessness. 
—Jake—
I stare at the screen, eyebrows creased in confusion. My mind is debating if her phone got hacked or it's with the likes of Dan. But then I reread the message, using more of my intellect and pausing the emotions at war. 
MC: IM AT AURORAA AND IF U DONT COMW AND GET ME I WILL SLEEP WITJ THE 1ST GUY I SEE! 
MC: bringg moneyyy some bitcj stole mine
No, it's definitely her. There's no debate about that. I barely pay any attention to the second message. My mind is still stuck on the first one. It's really unsettling. Despite how I've been upset with her, hardly seen or talked to her the past few weeks, still I want to get there as fast as I can. I cannot bear the image of the otherwise scenario. 
My emotions resume the war. I've never understood her entirely before but this is simply beyond my understanding. She went into heavy details explaining to me how she has gotten over me while I was away and how my barging into her life again isn't good for either of us. While I was on the run, making a new identity for myself, cutting ties with anyone who could pull me back into that long stretch of ruin I've been living in, I considered many outcomes. This is one of the more unlikely ones. Or maybe I didn't want to think about it so I didn't consider it fairly. 
She was already having a hard time telling me all the reasons I didn't want to hear, so I left. Ever since then, I've stayed at Lilly's place and it's a relief that her friends usually hang out at Cleo’s or Jessica’s. I haven't seen her or talked to her since then but I couldn't help asking Lilly how MC was doing every once in a while. Lilly would always tell me that MC felt like a different person and that I should talk to her. I refused. I simply couldn't bring myself to. 
I can't understand if she doesn't want me anymore then why am I the one she's texting when she's wasted at a bar. I guess I’d have to wait until she's sober. I feel a ting of hope and my mind calling me an idiot. 
I stop my car in front of Aurora’s front door. Usually, people are entering and exiting at every hour but as the street gets darkened, no one is seen around. Of course, it's 2 am. Why would anyone be here at 2 am when only a month ago a girl was abducted and another was found dead? And obviously, that anyone has to be MC. 
Sometimes her recklessness throws me over to the edge. 
I rush inside. All lights are shut down, only two of them shine at the counter. One male waiter cleans up the leftovers on the tables while another walks to the kitchen, loosening the knot on his apron. At the counter, MC is seated on one of the high stools, her head resting on the counter while her hands move above her head as she's explaining or complaining about something to…well, to the bar owner. Phil Hawkins. 
He's bent over to the counter, his arms set on the counter as he's nodding while grinning. His eyes fly to me as I near them. I notice that her phone is left unlocked on the counter with our chat opened so Phil isn't surprised to see me here. I have only met him once and let's say that didn't change my dislike for him. 
“We’ve only met once. And it feels like I've known you for years.” He says, straightening. 
I raise my eyebrow at him. “I don't return the sentiment.” 
Then as I stride to the counter, beside MC, I understand what he meant. 
MC is wasted, talking about me while being totally oblivious of my presence. “And I told him, Phil. I told him. You know what I said?” Her hands are moving vaguely, her voice is uneven, getting high randomly. It's sort of cute. “I said,” Her voice becomes a bit stable as she tries to deepen it. “I will know your identity soon.” 
I can't believe she's with a… decent looking guy, somewhat and she's still talking about me. I don't know how to feel about that. But I guess this just reminds me of what we could've had, could've been.
“And you know what he told me then? I remember it as clear as the day as we speak.” She moves her hand hysterically. I bite back a laugh and I look at Phil doing the same. 
Then, he says, “What? What did he say to you?” 
I would not be a part of this if I didn't want to hear her complaining about me. It's surprisingly funny and adorable. I don't use words like ‘adorable’ to describe anything else. I think I can't anymore– she's set the bar too high. 
She clears her throat, raising her head slightly, pointing a finger straight at the wall. “You can't. I am the hacker everyone's after. I'm unbeatable.” She pretends to be me, making her voice rough and deep but fails adorably. I couldn't help it anymore– I broke into a grin.
I decided to intervene. “I certainly didn't say anything of that sort.” 
Her pointed finger freezes at my voice. She slowly turns her head towards me as I try not to smile. But as soon as my eyes meet her, there's an effortless smile on my mouth before I can even begin controlling it. She stares at me for a moment. Her hair is a little messy, eyes squinting at me. Then she brings her hands to her mouth. “Oh my god, Phil, I summoned him.” 
I take a step forward. “Yes, you did.” I take another step forward, sliding into the stool next to her as I sweep her phone from the counter. I hold it up for her to see. “By texting me. With an awful amount of typos.” 
She snatches her phone from my head. “That wasn't me. It might be the owner of the bar– Phil.” She blames as if she doesn't see him standing two feet away from the counter. “But anyways.” She puts her phone on the counter. “You look too hot to be sent back now.” She places a hand on my chest. 
Phil coughs. “Alright. That's my cue to leave.” 
MC’s gaze follows his figure as he leaves. Then, she leans towards me and whispers, “You know, although it was true but I just said that so he'd leave.” 
I lean forward and whisper back, “Excellent plan. Next time, include me as well.” 
She nods several times. “For sure.” 
“Are you ready to leave?” I ask her. 
“Did you bring the money?” She questions. 
“Depends. How much do you need?” I place my elbow on the counter, supporting my head as I look at her panicking. 
“Well, w-well. It's about 300$.” She scratches her neck. And this time I am the one panicking. Not because of the money, of course, but because— 
“You drank 300$ worth of alcohol?” 
She blinks. “No. I broke three bottles. Phil told me he'd go easy on me so I have to pay for just two of them.” She shows two fingers, smiling. 
I try to look stoic. I look at her finger with the same grim expression and she lowers them awkwardly. I straighten, removing my elbow from the counter. I clear my throat, lowering my head, trying not to show her my smile.
I return my gaze to her. She asks, hopefully, “So do you have 300$?” 
I do. But I put my lips into a thin line, shaking my head as she frowns. “I don't have the money. But you know what? I have nothing to worry about since you're one who needs to pay.” I return my elbow on the counter. “All I'm saying is that it's not my problem.” 
Her mouth slightly opens and closes. She looks around, fidgeting a little. Then, she looks back at me. “So, you are going to leave?” Her voice is small and I almost give in. 
I shrug. “I can leave and come back with the money.” I offer and notice the immediate refusal on her face. “Do you want me to come back with the money?” 
She looks down, at her hands. “Don’t do that.” 
It takes me a moment to recover from the vulnerability in her voice. I realise as cute as she looks right now, but I still don't want her to be in his state when someone trusted isn't around her, someone who can protect her. That's when I promise to lecture her about this once she's sober. I don't care if we haven't spoken for weeks or where we stand right now. 
But right now, I'm calm, knowing she texted me and that I am here with her. 
“Why?” I ask. “Weren’t you planning to sleep with the first guy you see here? Once I'm gone, you could do that.” I do my best not to process my own words. 
She's still looking at her hands. “No, I only said that so that you'll come and get me. But it's fine if you don't want to pay for me. You can leave—” 
The last word stretches as I pull her stool closer to mine. Her legs stumble together between mine. Her head turns upwards as her eyes dart to different parts of my face. 
“You think I'm going to leave you here? I am here to get you and I would've come even if you hadn't sent me that threat of a message. Even if you had sent me a made-up word or merely just one letter or just my name, I would've come for you.” I affirm here, speaking very softly but ensuring my words hold the right heaviness for her to believe. 
“Even if you didn't know where I was?” She asks. 
“Even if I didn't know where you were. I'd find you.” I answer. 
“Even if I make you pay a huge debt and ignore you the next day?” 
“I’d be hurt if you ignored me. I don't care about the money.” 
“Even if I hurt you?” 
I hesitate. “Doesn’t matter. I'll get over it.” 
“And even if I make terrible jokes?” 
“Especially when you make jokes. Terrible or not.” 
She eases into a smile. I raise both my hands, fixing her hair with a smile. At last, I rested them on her shoulder. “Let’s go?” 
She nods. I nod back. “Just so you know, I’m not saying anything right now because you're too drunk to remember but once you get sober, I'm giving you a lecture about this stupid thing you did.” I can't help but to think what if I didn't see the message, or she couldn't find her phone. I don't particularly like Phil after tonight but what if he wasn't here or she had gone to some other place. 
“Good luck to her.” She says. And I laugh out loud, grabbing her phone and shoving it in my pocket. I put the money on the counter and turn to her. “Are you cold?” I ask her as I stand. 
“Cold? No. I'm extremely hot and a warm person. You were cold when we first talked.” She points a finger at me, accusingly as she tries to stand. 
“I’m sorry. Forgive me. If it makes you feel any better, I don't know who that person was anymore.” I put a hand around her waist as she leans into me. We walk towards the exit. 
“Really?” She asks, looking at me. 
“Really. He was so reserved and guarded.” I say, matching her accusing tone. 
“I know, right? He would ask me about all my findings on the case and wouldn't tell me anything he'd do all day.” She threw her hand, expressing her annoyance. 
I grin. “Really? He did that to you? That's so unfair. If I were you, I would never work with him.” We reach the door. I hold her with one hand as I opened the door. 
“Well, I wouldn't do that.” She says, unsure. 
“Why not?” I ask as we walk towards my car. It's been a long time since I've talked to her. I can't stop myself. I don't want to waste any second being silent. Turns out, I really don't know who I was before I met her. 
“Well, he would say ‘good job, MC’. I liked that.” She says, mimicking me. 
We reach the door to the passengers' seat. I hold it open for her as she stumbles onto the seat. She wriggles a little until she's comfortable. “Finally.” She eases back into the seat. Then, she looks at me. “I knew texting you was the right thing to do.” 
“Good job, MC.” 
She stares, processes, then she blushes. I close the door, smiling in an idiotic manner. When I enter the car, she removes her shoes. She sits comfortably putting her leg on the seat, looking at me, expectantly. 
“You want something from me?” 
“Say that again.” 
—To be continued—
Part 2
200 notes · View notes
unicornjoking1111 · 8 months
Text
Success story from Neville Goddard's book (The Law and the promise) (chapter: there is no fiction)
*this is not my work but a copy paste from Neville's book*
Spoiler alert!!! *this story is really amazing! its about a 19 year old dancing teacher who didn't believe in imagination but took up the challenge to owning a studio (Arthur Murray dance studio franchise) to making it much bigger and meeting Arthur Murray himself*
As my story begins at the age of nineteen I was a mildly successful dancing teacher and continued in this static state for almost five years. At the end of this time I met a young lady who talked me into attending your lectures. My thought, upon hearing you say ‘Imagining creates reality’, was that the entire idea was ridiculous. However, I decided to accept your challenge and disprove your thesis. I bought your book ‘Out of This World’ and read it many times. Still unconvinced, I set myself a rather ambitious goal. My present position was as an instructor with the Arthur Murray Dance Studio and my goal was to own a franchise and be boss of an Arthur Murray studio myself! “This seemed the most unlikely thing in the world as franchises were extremely difficult to secure, but on top of this fact, I was completely without the necessary funds to begin such an operation. Nevertheless. I assumed the feeling of my wish fulfilled as night after night, in my imagination, I went to sleep managing my own studio. Three weeks later a friend called me from Reno, Nevada. He had the Murray Studio there and said it was too much for him to cope with alone. He offered me a partnership and I was delighted; so delighted, in fact, that I hastened to Reno on borrowed money and promptly forgot all about you and your story of Imagination!
“My partner and I worked hard and were very successful, but after a year I was still not satisfied, I wanted more. I began thinking of ways and means to get another studio. All my efforts failed. One night as I retired, I was restless and decided to read. As I looked through my collection of books I noticed your slender volume, ‘Out of This World’. I thought of the ‘silly nonsense’ I had gone through one year ago before getting my own studio. GETTING MY OWN STUDIO! The words in my mind electrified me! I reread the book that night and later, in my imagination, I heard my superior praise the good job we had done in Reno and suggest we acquire a second studio as he had a second location ready for us if we desired to expand. I re-enacted this imaginal scene nightly without fail. Three weeks from the first night of my imaginal drama, it materialized — almost word for word. My partner accepted the new studio in Bakersfield and I had the Reno Studio alone. Now I was convinced of the truth of your teaching and never again will I forget. “Now I wanted to share this wonderful knowledge — of imaginal power with my staff. I tried to tell them of the marvels they could accomplish, but I was unable to reach many although one fantastic incident resulted from my efforts to tell this story. A young teacher told me he believed my story but said it would have probably happened anyway in time. He insisted the entire theory was nonsense but stated that if I could tell him something of an incredible nature that would actually happen and which he could witness — then he would believe. I accepted his challenge and conceived a truly fantastic test. “The Reno Studio is the most insignificant in the entire Murray system because of the small population count in the city itself. There are over three hundred Murray Studios in the country with much larger populations, therefore providing greater possibilities to draw from. So, my test was this. I told the teacher that within the next three months, at the time of a national dance convention, the little Reno Studio would be the foremost topic of conversation at that convention. He calmly stated this was quite impossible. “That night when I retired, I felt myself standing before a tremendous audience. I was speaking on ‘Creative Imagining’ and felt the nervousness of being before such a vast audience; but I also felt the wonderful sensation of audience acceptance. I heard the roar of applause and as I left the stage, I saw Mr. Murray, himself come forward and shake my hand. I re-enacted this entire drama night after night. It began to take on the ‘tones of reality’ and I knew I had done it again! “My imaginal drama materialized down to the last detail. “My little Reno Studio was the ‘talk’ of the convention and I did appear on that stage just as I had done in my imagination. But even after this unbelievable but actual happening, the young teacher who threw me the challenge remained unconvinced. He said it had all happened too naturally! And he was sure it would have happened anyway!
“I did not mind his attitude because his challenge had given me another opportunity to prove, at least to myself, that Imagining does Create Reality. From that time on, I continued with my ambition to own the ‘largest Arthur Murray Dance Studio in the world’! Night after night, in my imagination, I heard myself accepting a studio franchise for a great city. Within three weeks Mr. Murray called me and offered a studio in a city of one and a half million people! It is now my goal to make my studio the greatest and biggest in the entire system. And, of course, ‘I know it will be done — through my Imagination’!” …E.O.L., Jr.
126 notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 2 years
Text
taking care
Tumblr media
pairing: soft!dark nick fowler x curvy!reader
warnings: innocent/naïve reader. violence. mentions of blood. mean!nick. mentions of injury. minor character death. smut. choking. gun violence. pet names. hair pulling. spanking. i think i’m missing stuff so please let me know if you think anything else should be tagged!
words: 7.4k
notes: this fic has been sitting in my drafts for a couple weeks and i haven’t reread it in a while so apologies for any errors. genuinely idk where this story went and i know i didn’t bother trying to make it make much sense - it was really just an excuse to write nick fowler smut and then this all just kinda came along with it lmao. also - can i just say that i am big anti baths but honestly, i’d get in a tub with this man any day of the week 😙
i feel like, by now, we should all know not to expect well written endings from me and this fic is no exception. idk man lol
as always feedback and comments are always welcome. thank you for reading and reblogging 💜
Tumblr media
“I really wanted to trust you, sweetheart,” he said, sounding disappointed as he stared down at you. “I was so sure I could trust you.”
“What?” you said, taken aback by his words as you stared up at him from where you were made to kneel in between his legs. “You..you can. You know you can,” you continued, trying to hide your hurt though you were sure it was written clear as day on your face.
His hand was caressing your cheek softly as his eyes continued to gaze stoically into yours - giving nothing away.
When you had gotten home, after putting away the groceries in the kitchen, you found him in the den. He was just sitting in his chair near the fireplace- the glow of the flames illuminating him and accentuating the sharpness of his facial structure. He sat there, almost unmoving - looking like a work of art.
You were going to call to him, but were instead momentarily stunned by the sight of him before his clear, blazing blue eyes suddenly shot to yours as he heard you enter. His gaze froze you to your spot with the chill it sent through you. He stared at you a moment before speaking.
“Come here, princess,” he called to you.
You blinked at him before making your way over. You had heard that pet name many times before, but something about the way he said it was different now. It sounded wrong, cold. So unlike the wickedly sweet way it normally sounded coming from his lips.
When you were stood right before him, he grabbed your hands in his and pulled you down, urging you to lower yourself onto your knees before him.
To say you were confused at his words would be an understatement. You had been with Nick for the past two years and had started living together just around the first. He had moved you into his home with him a few months shy of your one year anniversary, promising you it would be perfect. And the place itself was perfect. It was in a newer, quite expensive, neighborhood with few neighbors living in the houses near his.
And his house was amazing. High tech and as luxury as you had ever seen in person. You had no qualms about the place you’d be moving to, you were just a little trepidatious, worried things were moving too fast. But of course, Nick convinced you it wasn’t too soon, that when you loved like you loved one another, these things could never be rushed. Not when it was always meant to be. You’d get to spend more time together, you’d save money on rent, and he’d be able to keep an eye on you - to keep you even safer.
You knew Nick’s line of work was dangerous, but you never felt worried about something bad happening to you. You knew he’d never let that happen. You were always his top priority, and had been since the day he first laid eyes on you. Rather, your concerns were in regards to his safety. When he would come home after long weeks away, you finally felt like you’d be able to breathe again. He’d always call or message when he could, but of course you’d still worry. Especially on occasions when he’d get home bloody and bruised. Sometimes you thought it hurt you more than him. But you were always there waiting for him. Always there to patch him up and take care of him when he needed you. And you always would be. You’d promised him as much.
You were closer to Nick than you had ever been with anyone and you’d never felt such an intense connection the way you did with him. You never knew how deep love could be before you met him. You would trust him with your life. You did trust him with your life. And after all this time, you thought he felt the same.
But apparently not.
You weren’t sure what had come over him or what exactly brought this on, but his current behavior was unsettling to say the least. You felt like he was keenly watching every little movement you made and taking note of each reaction you had as he stared at you. Looking for some sort of tell, something that would betray your innocence. But what did he think you were guilty of?
Whatever it was, he wouldn’t find anything. You hadn’t done anything to cause him to question his trust in you, you were sure of it.
“You don’t have to lie, sweetheart. There’s no point now, anyway,” he said as his fingers ghosted along your cheek.
“Nick, I swear,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.
What are you trying to accuse me of?”, your hurt even more evident now, “I haven’t done anything wrong,” you insisted earnestly.
It was only when he brushed his knuckles along your cheek that you dared to move. You gingerly grabbed his hand in yours and as you pulled it down to hold it, you then saw the blood and bruising. You looked up at him, eyes wide as you finally took his appearance in more closely. You noticed what appeared to be dried blood stains on his crisp white shirt, but as you scanned his face to see if he was hurt, you found no sign of injury. So the blood wasn’t his.. The only give away he was injured at all was his hand. No, hands, you realized as you pulled away only slightly to run your eyes over him again, needing to be sure he wasn’t hurt, before you noticed the bloody knuckles on his left hand, matching his right.
You weren’t new to seeing Nick like this, but you were normally more prepared. If he was due home from a mission, you knew what to expect. You had time to prepare and steel yourself against the sight of him possibly walking through the door wounded and bloody. He wasn’t normally a hands on kind of guy. He preferred to avoid hand to hand combat when he could, “less messy,” he’d say. But from the looks of him, it seemed he had been in some kind of altercation. You just couldn’t think of how that would have happened in the few hours you had been out. It’s not like he had been gone on an assignment, he hadn’t had any work since he came back last week. So when did this happen? Why did this happen? Why was he sitting here looking the way he was? Treating you like you were in on some conspiracy against him.
“Princess,” he tutted as his eyes burned into yours and his expression grew harsher. Your hand in his, being squeezed tighter. “You’re gonna need to stop lying to me, before I get even more upset.”
“I’m not lying,” you stressed again. “Please - please, just tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”
“You really thought I wouldn’t notice the little hushed conversations you’d have with him every time you’d go out?” He dropped your hand from his and you moved further back from him as he leaned closer to your face, scrutinizing every emotion that passed your eyes. His question served only to confuse you further because you really, truly had no idea what he was talking about or to whom he was referring.
“Don’t play stupid, baby. It’s not gonna work this time,”
This time? What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask, but knew better than to let it slip from your lips. He was obviously upset and lashing out, and you knew you needed to figure out what he was going on about before he was too angry to deal with. Nick would never hurt you, you knew that, but he had a way of taking his anger and frustrations out on you that would leave you feeling him for days. Normally you didn’t mind, but seeing as his ire was now directed, in part, at you, you felt a little more… nervous. He had never spoken to you like this before and you certainly were not a fan of it. He was making you feel uneasy.
“Nick, I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about or even who you’re talking about,”
“I saw you on your way out earlier, princess. What did you tell him, hm? What did he say to you to get you to smile so pretty for him?”
You sat there, mouth agape and brows furrowed as he spoke so condescending towards you. You thought back to when you were leaving today, who had you seen on your way out? Who had you talked to? The only person you could think of was Johnathan.
Yeah, it was Johnathan. He stopped you on your way to your car, asking about when would be a good time for a double date night with you and Nick and him and his wife. He’d been trying to set something up for a while, since they had moved in a few months back. Nick was evasive the couple of times Johnathan had caught him outside - always asking when you two were free. It was odd, certainly, but you had never thought anything of it. Only that he seemed to be a friendly neighbor, maybe overly so, but nothing more.
And certainly Nick knew better than to assume anything more than friendly, courteous conversation was happening between the two of you anytime you may have spoken. You were just being polite.
“This is about Jonathan?” you asked, almost disbelieving. “Seriously, Nick? He said hello and asked about you, like he always does before I told him I had to get going. That was it. That can’t be why you’re so upset. Will you please, just tell me what happened?” you tried asking again as you reached for one of his hands to examine more closely.
“Let me get you cleaned up and-,” you soothed before you found yourself being shoved down onto your back. The movement was sudden and unexpected. As you found yourself pinned down onto the hardwood floor, Nick on top of you, his hand wrapped firmly around your neck as his ice blue eyes raged with betrayal, you didn’t have time to scream and only managed to squeak out in protest before he spoke. He was mere inches from your face as your hands instinctively grabbed onto his forearm while he held you tighter.
“I told you to stop lying,” he spit out as you stared up at him in complete shock. You tried to speak but the hold he had on you, the way he was choking you made it nearly impossible. He stared into your frightened eyes for a moment before he loosened his hand from your throat and you coughed out, desperately trying to regain your breath as your head lolled to the side. He immediately grabbed your face and brought you back to looking directly up at him while you heaved.
“I’m not lying, Nick! What the hell is wrong with you?” you cried beneath him, trying to push him off but getting nowhere. He ignored your words, clearly not satisfied with your answer and seemingly unphased by your fighting against him as he continued staring into your eyes. When you stopped thrashing, he let out a heavy breath, letting his head fall slightly, his forehead against yours.
“I’ve already forgiven you, princess. I promise. I just need you to tell me the truth now so we can move past this,” he bargained as his thumb brushed away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.
You stared perplexed yet again as your brows returned to their furrowed position.
“The truth? The truth is I haven’t done anything. I still have no idea what you’re talking about or what happened while I was gone- I-”
You were interrupted by Nick scoffing and huffing as he hauled you roughly up from the floor. He had a tight grip on your arm as he pulled you to him. You crashed into him with the force of his pull before he spun you so you were in front of him, your back now to his chest, as he urged you to walk in front of him while he led from behind.
“I really didn’t want to do this the hard way, sweetheart, but you’re leaving me with no choice.” he said as he moved you both to the garage. “You’re gonna tell me the truth, in your own words, one way or another.” he promised.
As he shoved the door open from behind you and urged you in, you were stunned by the sight you were met with. You gasped in shock as you stared at your unconscious, bloodied and beaten neighbor tied to a chair. The walls of the normally empty garage and the floor beneath him were covered in plastic. You were genuinely lost and felt like you were on a delay as you just continued to stare, begging your mind to catch up.
What had Nick done in the few hours you had been gone and why?
“Let’s start off easy,” he began as he spoke into your ear. “How long?”
“How long, what?” you stuttered out in a whisper.
“How long have you been planning this? How long have you been working with him?”
“Working wi- what? Working with him? What are you talking about, Nick? What the hell is happening?”
“He said you’ve been in on it since before we met.. But I know that’s not true. Can’t be. Because I’m the one who found you, not the other way around. I don’t believe you’re that conniving and I know you’re not that smart. So, tell me. When did he get into contact with you and when did you decide to work with him, huh?”
“He said what?” you asked shrilly. “I swear to God, Nick, I met him when you did. I’d never seen him before in my life. And I wasn’t working with him on anything? What does- what does that even mean? Look, I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what he told you, but he’s lying. Whatever he told you, he was lying! And how could you believe him,” you finished, your voice on the verge of breaking.
He stayed quiet for a minute, then his grip left your arms. You stayed still in your spot while he was still close behind you, close enough that you felt it when he was reaching for something. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he moved his arms to wrap around your waist lightly as his hands crossed in front of you. As you slowly looked down at his hands, you saw his pistol being held in his right hand. He leaned down to rest his head on your shoulder as you continued to stay as still as you could.
“Nick,” you nearly whimpered. He sighed, nodded his head and placed a gentle kiss on your neck before he spoke.
“I believe you,” he said, standing up straight.
It happened so fast. You had instinctively turned around into Nick the second you saw him raise his gun. With his left hand, he pushed you out of the way as he stepped in front of you and aimed his pistol at Jonathan - firing a single shot into him without a second of hesitation. You jumped at the sound of the shot as you were looking away from the scene while your eyes watered and your hands covered your mouth as you silently gasped in shock.
Nick put his gun down on the workstation next to him and turned to you, walking to where you were standing. He didn’t say anything as he pulled you into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you before moving a hand to hold your head against him as he tried to comfort you.
“Sorry, angel. You’re so gullible, so easily persuaded into things, I just had to be sure,” he began as he moved to walk you back into the house. His calm was a stark contrast to your terror filled debilitation.
“He got inside after you left and tried to sneak up on me. Honestly, he’s probably the worst trained agent I’ve ever come across. I heard him coming from a mile away.”
You were back in the house, he guided you to the den and sat you down on the chair he had been previously occupying in front of the fire. You were clearly in shock as he continued speaking.
“Got him tied up in the garage, I told him to talk but he didn’t want to. Took a little work, but eventually he broke and told me all about his secret assignment. And then,” he paused, taking a deep breath before letting out a light scoff, “he brought up you,” he said as he caressed your face gently.
“And each time your name left his mouth, I couldn’t stop myself from punching the living fuck out of him. He passed out and I came inside and waited for you to get back. You know, he was shitty at every other part of his job, but he sure knew how to get under my skin.. The rational part of my brain kept telling me he was full of shit, I knew he was, I just- I hated even having to think about the possibility it was true.
“But sweetheart,” he said as he grabbed your face, making sure you were looking him in the eye before he continued. “I want you to know that even if you had been working for him, with him, whatever, that I would have forgiven you.
“I know you weren’t, I know you didn’t, but if you had, we would’ve moved past it. Because no matter what, we belong together. You’re mine. And I know how much you love me. I know you’d do anything for me. And I’m sorry I had any doubt.”
He was squatting down in front of you as you were finally starting to process everything. Your breathing became quicker and quicker and your mind was racing.
“His wife, Nick. What about his wife? She’s gonna- she’s gonna be looking for him. What are we gonna do? What do we do? He’s- he’s, he’s dead, Nick. He’s dead. In our garage. What do we do?” you rambled as you began to cry again, leaning forward into him desperately.
He pulled you to stand up and held you once again.
“There’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart. I already sent some people over to his house. There was no one living there but him. He’d been staking us out since he moved in. Working for some rebel agency after he was dismissed in the academy. Never even made it into the bureau. But don’t worry, it’s all taken care of, I promise. No one’s missing him except whoever sent him, and we already have plans on how we’re gonna deal with that,” he assured you.
You stayed in his embrace, the only source of comfort you had. You were still upset and you wanted him to know it, but you didn’t want to lose his touch or push him anymore than he had been pushed today by getting angry and blowing up at him after everything.
“I wasn’t working with or for him. I have never told him anything about you,” you said quietly into his chest as your lip wobbled. “How could you accuse me of doing something like that?” you asked as you pulled back to look at him, his eyes much softer now and full of sorries. “You’re my everything, you know that. I love you, I would never go behind your back. I would never want to get you hurt in any way.
“I would never do that to you. I could never do that to you.”
He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to your lips, pressing his forehead to yours as he nodded.
“I know, princess. I know. I’m sorry,” he said solemnly. You just hugged him tighter as he held you.
“Your hands,” you suddenly remembered. “Let’s go upstairs,” you said.
“Hey, angel,” he stopped you from pulling him further, “I think you’re still in shock. I just shot a man in front of you, you don’t need to be taking care of me right now. I’m taking care of you.” You stared at him a moment in silence, gently biting your lip trying to keep yourself together.
“You killed him,” you said bleakly.
“I killed him, yeah. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you, I’m sorry.”
“He was trying to kill you first, though,”
“Yeah, he was.”
“And he was trying to make you believe I was in on it,” you added.
“Yes.”
You just nodded against his chest as you leaned into him again.
“He had it coming, but that has nothing to do with me doing it right in front of you. Don’t try to rationalize the trauma,” he lightly chuckled. He was pretty accustomed to death. He had seen his fair share of it and his hands obviously weren’t clean of anyone’s blood, either. Though that certainly wasn’t something he ever wanted for you.
“It’s normally pretty difficult for people the first time they see someone die,” he said softly.
“The first time?” you said, sounding stressed. “The only time. First and last,” you said seriously.
“First and last,” he promised.
You later found yourself wrapped in your bath towel, sitting on the edge of your bed while Nick dried himself off with his own. You had cleaned his hands yourself before he ran a bath for the both of you. Sitting in the bubbles, you just laid with him in the warm water while his hands trailed up and down your body. You didn’t talk, just enjoyed his presence. That was until the realization that you could have actually lost him today hit you.
You looked up at him and tugged him closer to you as your eyes threatened to spill over with tears. Nick hushed you softly as he kissed your head.
“I can’t lose you,” you whispered.
“You aren’t going to, princess,” he assured you. You soaked a little while longer before you moved to the shower together. You were now clean and a lot more relaxed after being comforted by him all night long.
Nick moved over to you, standing before you as you sat on the bed. You looked up to him with a small pout and puppy eyes and just raised your arms up to him. He laughed a little before he bent down to your level, allowing you to wrap your arms around the back of his neck, hands finding his hair as you pulled him into a soft kiss. He gently pulled away from you and tugged your towel off of your body before he pulled his own off of his waist and tossed both of them to the wayside as he immediately went back to your soft, waiting lips, his hands framing your face while he deepened the kiss.
You broke away for a breath, staying nose to nose with him. Quiet and softly, you spoke with your eyes closed as your foreheads touched, “You’re my first and last.” The sweet reminder of the fact that Nick indeed was your ‘first’, in a lot more than just sex, and that he would absolutely be your ‘last’ as well, seemed to only frenzy him as he returned his lips to yours hotly.
“Your one and only,” he snarled as you nodded against him.
“My one and only,” you repeated obediently.
Before you knew it, he had you on your back and moved you up the mattress, allowing him more room to kneel above you, only breaking the kiss to breathe. His hands were on your face and yours were in his hair as you continued to sensually make out. Soon, his hands began wandering your naked body and as he lowered himself and closed the space between you, you could feel his heavy cock, hard and hot against you. You spread your legs around him as he moved his lips down to your chest. You moaned at the feeling of him playing with your breasts. He was toying with your nipple in one hand as he took the other into his hot mouth. Suckling and nibbling, getting you more and more wet for him as he moved to deliver the same attention to your other breast. Leaving kisses and love bites all over your ample chest before moving back up and attacking your neck with the same need.
You knew he was trying to be gentle, working very hard to not go feral over you. You could feel it in his tense muscles, he was too stiff and you knew he was holding back for you. Trying to, at least. But when you felt him bite your shoulder a little too harshly as he grabbed your ass roughly, you knew what he really wanted, needed. Today was a bad day to say the least and you knew he needed to let it out. Normally he had no qualms about taking his frustrations out on you in bed but today was different. You were involved in this and he had already hurt you earlier, you were still fragile. He didn’t want to push you so he was trying to keep his aggressions at bay. But you didn’t want that. You wanted to feel him. Completely, with no inhibitions. You needed it.
Pulling his hair back just enough to get him to look up to you, you urged him closer as you kissed him hard before speaking.
“Nick, baby, I want you. Use me. Please. Don’t want you to hold back,”
“Princess,” he tried to caution, voice hard.
“Please,” you begged. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I want you to feel better. I want you, I just want you, please.”
He didn’t need much more persuasion as he crashed his lips into yours again. Your hands were on his back, holding him close to you, chest to chest, before he pulled away from your lips and pulled back. Your hands fell from his back and moved to his built chest, then up along his muscular shoulders as he stared down at you with dark, hungry eyes.
He pulled you up with him suddenly as he got off the bed completely. You stared at him confused for just a second before you realized what he wanted. Without him saying a word, you got up and bent over the side of the mattress, your ass sticking out as you stood there in anticipation of what was to come..
“Color?” he asked huskily.
“Green.” was your prompt response.
The first strike of his hand across your bottom stung in the most pleasant, familiar way. You moaned at the second one as he admired the jiggle of your ass, squeezing your flesh before he landed the next strike. He spanked you repeatedly as your skin grew hot, your eyes grew teary, and your pussy grew needier with each hit. You were a mess for him already.
As he grabbed at your ass and soothed your hot flesh, he couldn’t help but taunt you as he admired your slick pussy drooling for his attention.
“All this for me, princess?” he asked as his thick fingers swiped through your wet folds while you whimpered. He rubbed your wetness around as he continued playing with you before plunging one finger inside of you, curling against your tight walls.
“Yes, yes, Nick, all for you,” you moaned.
You could practically hear him smirking as he moved closer behind you. He pulled his finger out after pumping in and out of you teasingly. He pushed you further up the bed as he grabbed your ass again and spread your cheeks so much so that you opened up even more for him, you could feel your pussy spreading for him as he squeezed you and continued his playing. He slapped your ass once more and without warning thrust two of his fingers inside your wet and wanting cunt. You mewled in delight as he scissoed them inside you, preparing you for his cock. He loved playing with you, teasing you with pleasure and watching you writhe with desire for him to push you off of the edge. And he would, eventually, but he liked seeing just how far he could push and taunt you before you were crying for him. So he continued fingering and stimulating you just enough to keep you on the edge, but not enough to get you there. Not yet.
“Please,” you whimpered out with a breathy moan. He slid his fingers out of you at your pathetic plea and then leaned over your back, shoving his fingers past your lips into your mouth as he spoke in your ear.
“Suck,” he commanded, voice low and heady. You did as he said, sucking his fingers clean as he panted over you, and you could feel him grinding his cock against your ass. He pulled his fingers past your lips before he placed a sloppy kiss on your shoulder as he stood back up.
“Good girl,” he praised.
He grabbed his thick cock in his hand and decided to tease you a little more as he ran his tip up and down your slit. You were mewling at the sensation and wanted more.
“Your needy little pussy’s just crying for my cock, isn’t she?” he taunted, voice thick with desire.
“Mhm yes, Nick, please. Please fuck me. I need it, need you, need your cock inside me, please,” you whined desperately.
“Careful what you ask for, princess,” he said darkly before he positioned his cock up to your dripping hole. He thrust into you and began moving hard and fast as he fucked you without restraint. You were groaning and moaning as he hit deep inside of you, your legs dangling over the edge of the bed now with how far he pushed you up with his thrusts. His hand went to your hair and he pulled your head back harshly, loving the way your body reacted to him while he grunted in pleasure as you continued whimpering and babbling pure nonsense.
Letting go of your hair, his hands then gripped your soft, fleshy hips as he pulled you back onto his cock repeatedly, slamming in and out of you. The clap of his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass while he continued pounding into you was salacious and lewd and served only to turn you on more.
“Fuck, you look so fucking pretty when you’re being spread open on my cock, angel. Feels so fucking good, fuck,” he grunted huskily, moaning at the feeling of you.
Your fingers were buried in the sheets as he fucked you further into the mattress and you were on the very brink of your orgasm. Nick was hitting so deep inside of you and you had never felt so full. Each slide of his cock against your walls brought you closer as he stimulated your g-spot with every thrust.
His right hand left your hip and slithered under you to where his index finger found your clit. He began rubbing the swollen nub in small circles, causing you to clench hard around him as he swiftly brought you to your orgasm with the added stimulation. You were moaning and crying breathlessly as you came, eyes squeezed shut as he rode you through your high and talked you through your orgasm.
“Ah, fuck, princess,” he moaned out. “You’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. Coming on my cock like a good girl, huh. You like that, yeah. Love when I split you open like this, don’t you. Love when I fuck your pretty little pussy, stuff you full of my cock while I play with your clit,” he spoke into your ear as he leaned over you again.
“Mmhm, I love it, ‘so good, it’s so good. Fuck,” you cried as you mewled into the sheet beneath you while he continued pounding in and out of your overworked cunt.
He took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulled your arms down and around your back, his hips snapping more erratically into you as he chased his high. He was leaning all of his weight onto you as he leaned over your body, pushing you further into the bed as he groaned. You knew he was close as he lost any of the restraint he may have had left, your name leaving his lips along with a string of curses.
“No one else could ever make you come undone like this. No one else will ever get to fuck you, feel your tight cunt wrapped around them. Fuck, this is goddamn heaven. And it’s all mine,” he said, moaning and grunting.
“You’re mine,” he growled into your ear. “And you’re gonna come again for me. Need to feel you come again, princess. Need to feel you grip my cock like that again.”
As if the never ending stimulation from his thick cock rocking into you from behind along with the thrilling sounds and praises you were pulling out of him weren’t enough to make you come again, those words absolutely were. Your toes were curling and the feeling of him on top of you - his pants and moans right in your ear as he leaned into you even more, all of it, every word, sound, and sensation were cascading at once into you and sent you headfirst into another orgasm, your hands squeezing his as he pushed into you further, your walls tightening around him again while he bit into your shoulder and you whimpered pathetically.
“I’m gonna come inside you, angel. Fill you up full of me, and you’re gonna take every last bit of my come, you hear me,” he panted through grit teeth in your ear. “You’re gonna be feeling me for days after tonight, princess. But that’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it. Just can’t fucking get enough,” he growled before he pulled out of you. He flipped you onto your back so quickly you barely even registered it happened until he slammed right back into you, his hands keeping your thick thighs spread for him as he pulled you as close to him as he could, your ass on the very edge of the bed as he kept your legs open around his hips. He thrust a couple times more, long and hard, before he seated himself as far inside of you as he possibly could with the most beautiful moan you’d ever heard, his shuddering breaths falling on you as he started to let himself go inside of you, your pussy gripping him like a vice all the while. His hands were back on your hips as his body fell forward, his head nuzzling to the crook of your neck as he sucked air in through his teeth before letting out a deep, guttural groan, nearly shivering as he came harder inside of you. His thick ropes of come filling you. You held him close to you, petting his head as he leisurely pumped his cock inside of you a few more times, riding out his orgasm as you panted and mewled beneath him every time he stimulated your ever sensitive clit. When he was finished, you were sure you had never been so full. You could practically feel him leaking out of you.
You were both panting, regaining your breath, as he smiled against your skin, coming down from his high and nuzzling more into your neck as he readjusted the both of you to be more comfortable on the bed.
“You’re perfect, you know that? Every last thing about you,” he said as his arms went around the dip of your back, hands settling on your hips once again as he kissed your neck, up to your cheek, peppering kisses along your skin.
You smiled at his words and the feeling of his soft lips trailing along your tender flesh as tingles ran through you, wrapping your arms around him. Briefly you heard his earlier words float through your head. You’d never known him to be so…mean. To you, at least. Though you wanted to forget it, it continued nagging at you while he laid in your arms.
As he slowly pulled out of you and got off the bed, you pondered talking to him about it. You didn’t want to upset him, but this was gonna bug you if you didn’t voice it.
He was back in front of you with a damp rag and the most loving look in his eyes. Gently, he cleaned his spend from between your legs and after discarding the rag, crawled on top of you, engulfing you in his arms, pulling you into his side as you were cuddling with him.
“Nick,” you muttered softly. He hummed in response, waiting for you to continue.
“I just wanted to ask, to know..Earlier, you… do you, you really think that? That I’m stupid?” you asked quietly, your embarrassment and hurt evident as you tried to hide your face against him.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he gently pulled you back to look at him, his eyes full of sympathy, a stark contrast to the cold fire that raged there previously. “No, I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“Really?” you pressed.
“Really,” he nodded. “You’re not stupid, you’re naive,” he stated matter of factly.
You looked down, wincing slightly as you pulled away from him. Tried to, at least. Nick was quick to pull you back to him, tilting your chin up as he forced you to make eye contact.
“Hey,” he breathed, “that’s not necessarily a bad thing. You may be naive but no one's gonna take advantage of that or use it against you, I’ll always be right here looking out for you. Protecting you.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips as you allowed yourself to settle next to him again.
“And I love that about you,” he smiled. “It’s just natural for you to be sweet.. and trusting.. and kind,” he punctuated each word with a gentle kiss to your temple, cheek, and finally your soft lips once again after nuzzling your nose. “I’m so lucky I found you before the world could change any of that.” Those words, sickly sweet and full of love and admiration of you, that was your Nick. The way he behaved earlier was intense and unlike anything you’d received from him before. You were just glad he was back now, and eager to forget the hurt he caused you. Certain he wouldn’t do anything like it again to you.
You half smiled before sucking your lip, your mind returning to the current conversation you were having with him, “Certainly tried to.”
You thought back to just a couple years ago, before you met Nick, before everything changed. You were making minimum wage, working two jobs in the city, living in a shitty apartment with a roommate you barely knew. Life had never been easy on you. But the moment Nick came into yours, it was like he just made everything better. He took care of you like no one ever had. Showed you love like you’d never known. You felt like you owed him everything. You really would do anything for him, he was your whole world now. That’s why it hurt so badly when he insisted you were lying to him earlier. You thought you had made it clear that that was something you would never do to him. You loved him so much. You figurned you just needed to show it more. To do anything and everything you could to reinforce the simple fact that you were his and his alone. Forever. It was the least you could do, right? He gave you everything, and made sure you were aware of the fact that he’d do anything for you, he’d protect you and love you with all he had. You needed to ensure he knew, without a single doubt in his mind, that you’d do the same. Because you really would, you did. He never made you question for even a second his devotion to you. He always said how lucky he was to have found you, but you felt even luckier for it. Truly, where would you be without him? You didn’t want to even think about it. It was all too much to put into words at the moment. For now though, exhausted and worn from the tumultuous events of the day, laying next to him, his protective hold on you as you were cuddling into his warmth and feeling surrounded by the love you shared, it was enough.
“I’m so grateful for you,” you sighed.
He caressed your cheek as he smiled at you, admiring your delicacy. He knew you were perfect for him the moment he had first laid eyes on you. He knew you were meant to be his, and so he made sure that you were and you always would be.
“I love you,” he kissed you once more as your eyes threatened to shut, lashes fluttering.
“I love you, more,” you whispered as you nuzzled further into him.
“You look exhausted,” he chuckled softly. “Go to sleep, angel.”
He was right, you were completely drained, but still, you wanted to fight your sleep a little longer. You worried your dreams would be flooded with nightmares of dangerous men breaking into your home, trying to hurt you, trying to hurt Nick, and god, the sound of the pistol firing ringing in the back of your mind. You shook your head, hoping to shake the sound as well. A man died today. And that could have been Nick. That thought wrecked you. You didn’t want to be without him for even a moment, not even in your sleep.
“I will,” you mumbled, holding onto him.
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he said as if he could read your mind, rubbing your arm soothingly. You needed to come back to yourself. You were only working yourself up to dwell on things you couldn’t change or control. And with Nick around, you didn’t need to worry about anything, he’d take care of it all. He’d keep you both safe..he’d always keep you safe. Finally allowing yourself to really settle while Nick held you, you were soon sleeping, and though you woke up every now and again with a start, Nick was always still right beside you. His touch calming as he’d lull you back to sleep. He was here and you were safe, he’d remind you, mumbling words of comfort against your temple until you fell asleep again. He stayed up all night just making sure you were okay. He said he’d take care of you and he meant it. He’d be damned if you ever had to go through anything like tonight again, but right now he just needed to be sure you were okay and slept through the night. He already had his guys tracking down their headquarters and first thing tomorrow, he'd be sure the people who were responsible for tonight would be deeply regretting getting anywhere near you and ensuring they’d never have the chance again. And after that, he’d finally tell you the big news. You two were going off the grid, somewhere remote where it could be just the two of you, like it should be. Somewhere safe, where no one could find you. He’d had the plans set for a while now, and it was the perfect time to do it. You were more dependent on him, he was sure you’d say yes without him having to convince or force you to. The ring was perfect and he couldn’t wait to slip it on your finger. He wasn’t sure you’d be ready for another big move, but the honeymoon would be the perfect cover to get you there without you worrying. You’d say ‘I do’ and it would all work out. He’d be your first, your last, your only, just like he was meant to be. Always and forever. Just you and him.
861 notes · View notes
melobin · 1 month
Note
moots as words in english!! (if you already did it thats fine!!)
can i be 🧿 anon???
you can !! welcome my love 💞
@starrypen 🎀 celestial. my love, everything about you is so calming, you’re filled with surreal beauty that can’t properly be explained. to me you’re the gentle glow of the moon in the dark night sky, gentle and adored and who’s beauty can never properly be captured by camera and will always be incredible to see by the naked eye.
@kkurokitty 🎀 empathetic. my jaye :( i’ve been so lucky to have someone like you in my life these past few years. you’re so caring and loving towards me, always taking your time to listen to me and take care of me with everything that’s happened these past few months. i love you and i’m always here for you !!! you’re the best.
@heesbaby 🎀 imaginative. you just have so much talent and you use that talent the showcase the ideas you have. all of your smau’s have been incredible !! your mind is just incredible i love it so bad. you and your sweet brain deserve the world and i hope you know how appreciated you and your writing are !!
@ntoniac 🎀 hypnotising. your writing !!!!! you single handedly hold one of my favourite fics i’ve ever read and i’ll never fail to tell you how much i loved it and how many times i’ve reread it !! your posts always catch my attention and i always enjoy everything i see from you !!
@euseokz 🎀 endearing. you’re just so sweet i want to squish your cheeks. you’ve been so sweet and lovely to me ever since we became friends, that mixed with the sheer talent you have and how you write, you’re just the perfect mix of a human and i hope you know that !! i cherish you in my life and i hope we can become closer as time goes by,, i’ll always be one of your biggest fans !!
@lilmashae 🎀 gentle. even just going off of the energy you radiate, everything is so gentle. talking to you, having asks from you, seeing you on my dash, whenever i see your username i feel such a gentle and calming aura around me. you really are one of the sweetest people i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.
i haven’t done everyone purely because i struggled to think of too many words but i love you all !!
20 notes · View notes
tennessoui · 1 year
Note
hi kit! I was rereading your playmaker au (I absolutely love it btw!!!) and I have soo many questions! Like? How does qui-gon react to obi-wan showing up to the ball/gala/thing(?) with anakin? is he angry? upset (probably not lol)? does he talk to obi-wan/anakin or does he just ignore them outright? does anakin provoke him (of course he does but howwww???)
also, obviously your writing is amazing and I love literally everything you do!!!! <33333333
here is what happens at the policeman's ball! told from mace windu's pov (in this au he was like obi-wan's supervisor)! i think qui-gon is definitely furious, but after this night he also pivots to try and get obi-wan's loyalty back -- but before that, there's the anger
(2k)
Mace Windu has a headache and a terrible feeling about this whole thing. He never likes anything that has to do with the City politicians, especially the Mayor, and the annual Policeman’s Ball is probably the thing he likes the least. 
It’s opulent and gaudy and uncomfortable to have so many eyes on him, on their work, as if they care about him and the department any other day of the year. But he knows as well as any of the detectives that this Ball is the bed they must get into with the politicians, the city’s most wealthy. Here is the night money slides across palms, deals are struck and good men leave their morals at the door.
Just for one night. Just for the sake of their offices, their men. Those who schmooze the best, woo the most politicians, the most wealthy elite, are the ones who get the better budgets, the newer equipment. And Mace is Coruscant born and bred: he, like everyone else, knows that morals are the first things to go when lives are on the line.
Maybe it wasn’t always like this, but Mace cannot remember another way. Not in this city where even the politicians don’t have the actual power nor the funds or means to oust the men who do--the men and women who cut through the crowds with sharp smiles and rough palms, heads high and proud, draped in diamonds and pretty things, suits clean-cut and perfectly tailored.
Members of mobs, inside the city and out. Leaders of far-reaching crime syndicates, the kind Mace has committed his life’s work to fighting, to rooting out of Coruscant.
Everyone knows who they’re climbing into bed with when they shake Asajj Ventress’ hand to seal a deal, when they laugh too hard at Rush Clovis’ comment, when they fall over themselves to give Anakin Skywalker their attention.
No one admits it. 
Mace has lost men—good men—in the pursuit of justice against the mobs of Coruscant, sure that with enough evidence, he can put at least one away for life. It’s a dream he and his captain, Qui-Gon Jinn share.
Tilting his head, Mace finds his superior in the crowd, the man’s tall and unmistakable hair making him stand out as much as his stony silence and refusal to play along this year.
He wonders if Jinn feels the same exhaustion as Mace does. The dream has never felt farther away. The price has never seemed so steep.
Jinn lost his son, not even six months ago. The boy had been bright and clever, and Mace had looked at him and felt hope for the future of the city, all bundled up in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s soft smile.
He never should have been sent undercover. Mace shouldn’t have allowed it when Jinn passed down the orders. Kenobi was too young, too willing to prove himself, too naive for the mission.
And Vader took him, made him into just another bright young light snuffed out before its time.
Mace downs the rest of his drink and cuts through the crowd to reach Jinn’s side when he notices the mayor approaching. Jinn had insisted on coming—truly, he couldn’t not attend as their captain—but he will not be at his sharpest, at his most willing to play along tonight.
Jinn has always had the strongest morality of any guy Mace knows in the force, but he’d been willing to say what he had to say in the past to look out for his men, play nice with the politicians for the better budgets, the new supplies.
Losing his son changed something in him though. Made him colder. Made him cling even tighter to his morals. 
With a dead wife and an estranged son, his convictions were all he had left—save for his job.
“Mayor Palpatine,” Mace says easily, holding his hand out to shake the mayor’s hand. “You’ve outdone yourself this year.”
The mayor smiles at him with a sick sort of grin, but his attention is almost completely focussed on Jinn. “You know how much I enjoy the Policeman’s Ball. All of Coruscant’s best and brightest in one place for one night…a marvelous opportunity to strengthen our friendships, build trust, and honor those who protect us.”
Jinn’s returning smile looks stretched far too thin across his face. Mace closes his eyes in silent prayer that Jinn will hold his tongue.
“All of the riches of Coruscant in one place,” Jinn says, “and those who are bound by duty to protect them.”
“And what a noble calling that is,” the mayor smiles and there is something wrong about it, something terrible. “Only few are truly cut out for such a path, Captain Jinn, and we thank you for your stalwart service.”
He pauses and his face shifts into one of regret. Mace feels on edge.
“In fact,” Mayor Palpatine says, “I was just chatting with your son, and he—”
“He’s here?” Jinn straightens his shoulders, posture becoming ramrod straight as his eyes leave the mayor to roam around the rented room. “How?”
“Oh?” Palpatine raises both his eyebrows in mock surprise. “You didn’t know?”
“My son is no longer with the Force,” Jinn bites out, voice filled with more venom than Mace has ever heard before.  “He should not have been allowed to come tonight.”
“Ah,” Palpatine says. “I see there’s been some confusion. Your son is attending as Mr. Skywalker’s companion for the evening, not as a member of the police force. Though—there they are actually. I do hope I did not ruin a surprise visit!” 
Mace, with a feeling of dread welling up in his gut, turns his head to look at the two men Palpatine is now gesturing forward.
Anakin Skywalker prowls towards them like some great beast returning from a hunt with prey already dead between his jaws, or like an emperor returning to his city fresh from a conquering.
He looks neat and pristine, eyes crinkling with the force of his smirk as he guides Obi-Wan Kenobi to meet them with a hand pressed to the boy’s lower back.
Still some paces away, Skywalker leans down to whisper something into Obi-Wan’s ear, and the boy snaps back with a scowl, voice soft so as to hide his words.
The boy’s hair is short and rather awkwardly cut, but it’s the same strawberry-blonde Mace remembers seeing the boy’s mother wear. His eyes are hers as well, clear, light blue, though they have none of the softness Mace recalls him having before they sent him undercover.
He looks well-fed at least, and he holds himself close to Skywalker’s body, as if he truly feels safe in the claws of a dragon.  
Since the last time he saw the boy leaving the precinct, on his way into Skywalker’s arms, he has wondered how Obi-Wan liked his new life. If he felt like it was worth it, to lose his job and his father and his future for the mobster who would never be capable of loving him back, not truly. 
Looking at Obi-Wan now, dressed in expensive, soft-looking clothes, and carefully held in Skywalker’s arm, Mace can’t deny that the boy looks fine.
Healthy. Happy, if not for the current scowl marring his features.
“Gentleman,” Skywalker says when they reach them, holding out a hand for Jinn to shake.
Jinn does not move.
Skywalker’s eyes flash like flint sparking, and he adjusts his grip on Obi-Wan, pulling him fiirmly into his side and slightly in front of him, even as he drops his hand.
The tension in the air chokes any sort of conversation starter Mace can think of before it leaves his lips.
His eyes, without his conscious permission, remain stuck on the face of his biggest regret, unable to overlook the way Obi-Wan turns into the line of Skywalker’s body, as if taking comfort from his touch—as if Mace and Jinn are the lions and Skywalker Obi-Wan’s champion.
“I hadn’t realized you—” Palpatine starts to say, but he is cut off.
“Obi-Wan,” Jinn says suddenly, tone harsh, every inch the captain of the police. The tension in the air increases exponentially. Mace hadn’t realized that was possible. “You cut your hair.”
Something dark flashes across Skywalker’s face, and Mace watches as he moves his hand up to brush over the collar of Obi-Wan’s shirt, the exposed back of his neck.
“It’s in regulation,” Obi-Wan replies, looking for the first time this evening at his father. “Are you proud?”
The question is heavy, weighted: it always has been with Jinn and his son. Obi-Wan always did care less about if his father liked something he did and more about if he was proud.
“That your hair is in regulation?” Jinn’s lips are tight, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Obi-Wan, you have not spoken to me in six months. And you come tonight, to this event, on the arm of that monster, allowing him to move you about and speak for you, wearing clothes he bought you with money soaked in blood, and you ask if I am proud that you wear your hair to police standards? You have made a mockery of my life’s work, and you have lost yourself completely.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes look wet, and his hand is tangled in the pocket of Skywalker’s pants, seeking out connection. Mace closes his eyes and barely resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He has been witness to more fights between Jinn and his son than he cares to remember. 
Jinn always finds the worst words to say. 
And Obi-Wan learned how to fight from his father’s example. 
They’re ruthless and they’re cruel, and they fight each other like they’ll accept no survivors. 
“You are no son of mine, Ben,” Jinn says, even though Mace knows how much the loss of Obi-Wan has affected the older man, knows he misses him, knows he loves him still.
Obi-Wan blinks rapidly, hurt naked on his face, before he wipes it clean off and raises his hand to tuck a short piece of hair behind his ear. The motion is slow, pointed, and Mace’s eyes catch immediately on the angry red lines circling his wrist.
Handcuff marks. 
Mace takes a fortifying sip of his drink when he hears Jinn’s sharp inhale at the sight.
“Daddy,” Obi-Wan says, “can we go home? It’s close to the twins’ bedtimes, I don’t want to miss it.”
It’s Skywalker who responds, because it’s Skywalker Obi-Wan was looking at when he spoke. It’s Skywalker who wraps his arm securely around Obi-Wan’s waist and presses a kiss to his temple, dark eyes never straying from Jinn. “Yes, of course, sweetheart,” he tells Jinn, smirking like the cat who captured the canary right under the birdkeeper’s nose. “Gentlemen,” he says to Mace and the mayor. “Apologies for leaving early, but family calls.”
They are only half-turned around when Jinn recovers his tongue. “They are not your family, Obi-Wan,” he says. To Mace, he sounds as if he is begging. He wonders what Obi-Wan hears in his voice.
The boy turns his head to the side, posture perfect and nose pointed slightly up in cold disregard. “I would hardly call you an expert in family, Captain Jinn. You do not even have a son.”
Jinn moves sharply forward at this, reaching to touch his son’s arm. But before he can touch him, Skywalker intercepts him and grabs his wrist so tightly that Mace can see his hand flexing with the effort. Jinn’s bones must be grinding together. “Do not,” Skywalker says lowly and darkly, every syllable dripping with implicit violence. “Do not try to touch what is not yours, Captain.”
“Ani,” Obi-Wan murmurs, turning in his hold so as to rest his hand lightly on Skywalker’s chest. Mace tenses, wondering if Obi-Wan will be treated with the same violence, the same dark look for having the nerve to try and tame the beast. 
He is not.
The moment their eyes lock, Skywalker lets go of Qui-Gon’s wrist in favor of tucking a piece of hair behind Obi-Wan’s ear once again. There is nothing performative about the action now—just a man who cannot help but touch his—his lover.
The thought sickens Mace, and he knows it must be worse for Qui-Gon, who is still standing where he was left, hand halfway reaching out to his son and far, far too late to ever catch him.
90 notes · View notes
halfmoth-halfman · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
fun fact: july 2nd is is the exact halfway point of the year, so what better day to be sappy on main and do a mid-year fic rec list???
this one is gonna be a little different, i'm gonna get all my praises and cheesiness out here with the list under the cut so this post isn't a million years long.
i started my rec lists in february as a way to show my appreciation for fics that i read/were written that month, but i know there are some i missed, some i found too late, and some i just think deserve more love. soooo here's a list of the fics i've read and reread so far this year that have a very special place in my heart and have, at many times, inspired me to keep writing and been major comforts for me.
and here's a big, enormous, gigantic thank you to all of the writers and friends i've found, you are all such amazing people and incredibly talented writers that deserve far more praise than i can possibly give in a single post!!! thank you all so much!!!💜
Tumblr media
Alex Keller
sun and stars - @halcyone-of-the-sea
convallaria majalis - @nightingale-ghost-writer
Tumblr media
Arthur Morgan
the fire in your eyes - @cowboydisaster
cabin in the mountains - @chaoskrakenuwu
Tumblr media
Jason Todd
in the middle of the night - @as-is-above-so-below
Tumblr media
Javier Peña
nowhere to run - @mvtthewmurdvck
late night texts - @mvtthewmurdvck
arepas - @mvtthewmurdvck
Tumblr media
Javy "Coyote" Machado
i don't love you like i used to - @beyondthesefourwalls
worry, my love - @uselsshuman
Tumblr media
John "Soap" MacTavish
coorie - @yeyinde
sweet melodies - @johnnytavish
three times i loved you - @uselsshuman
it happens - @mvtthewmurdvck
infinity in the palm of your hand (eternity in an hour) - @yeyinde
Tumblr media
John Price
the mothiverse - @lunarvicar
willow tree march - @yeyinde
neighbors au - @soapskneebrace
languish - @moriflos
professor price - @guyfieriii
soulmate au - @ghostaholics
past and pending - @yeyinde
see no evil - @halcyone-of-the-sea
though you say it's only days - @uselsshuman
turn me to ashes - @guyfieriii
songs that sound like sea-foam - @halcyone-of-the-sea
Tumblr media
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
gossamer silk smiles - @halcyone-of-the-sea
keepsakes - @soapskneebrace
speak now - @sprout-fics
high hopes - @writesforfandoms
kiss prompts - @cowboybxtch
he loves me not - @deadbranch
Tumblr media
Multi
141 Family AU - @uselsshuman
the confessional booth - @antigonusyuki
dead disco - @peachesofteal
Tumblr media
OCs
benji x xavier - @fr0ntier & @day0walker
Tumblr media
Simon "Ghost" Riley
the captain - @as-is-above-so-below
happiness - @lethalchiralium
helen series - @mvtthewmurdvck
ménage - @lilywastaken
lilium candidum - @kil-g
give peace a chance - @moondirti
ghost on pain meds - @fr0ntier
something to live for - @floralpascal
simon struggles with anger (you struggle to help him) - @nsharks
earl grey tea - @a-sibyl
mermaids - @peachesofteal
71 notes · View notes
formula-fun · 4 months
Note
Hi!!!!!!
So happy that you have found time to write again!
By now I have reread the story too many times so I have been trying to “force” your two amazing stories on my best friend in hopes of finding someone to scream together (I have successfully dragged her across most of the fandoms I have dabbled in) and she was very excited when I explained the plot and showed her my too-long asks on your tumblr to her 🤣
Of course she would love them as much as I do, and she would be running out of excuses for wips (hahahaha) when it looks like the final chapters might be happening!
Very very excited! Thank you so much for taking the time to write! 😘
Hey hey!!!
Aww thanks so much!! I know its not for everyone and wips sometimes arent everyones cup of tea either but i hope she likes it if she gives it a try!! ive had the wildest month in the world so im only now starting to clean them up, but really hoping to have them up soon before school gets crazy again <3
leaving a snippet here for you since i love it so so much but am unfortunately about to cut it!
In Brazil Max doesn’t even bother pretending he wants to use his own hotel room. Charles has only been settled for fifteen minutes when a polite knock rings through the room, and when he opens the door it’s to the sight of Max standing in front of it, tapping away on his phone, his backpack slung precariously over the handle of the suitcase resting beside him.
“Is the WiFi working for you?” he asks in lieu of a greeting, wandering past Charles when Charles steps aside.
“I don’t know,” Charles says, amused. “I just got here.”
“Oh. Same.” He flops backward onto the bed, his knees hanging over the edge, not looking up when his suitcase finally overbalances and falls to the floor with a clatter. He drops his phone somewhere over his head, stretching his arms until they shake. He looks lazy and content, easy with the way he’s made a place for himself in Charles’ space, like he knows he’s always welcome. Charles wants to get on the bed and crawl toward him, one palm on his sternum, and see what his mouth feels like against Charles’ upside down.
He swallows hard.
“Do you want to order room service?” Max asks him.
They have places to be. Charles is pretty sure they do, anyway. They always do. He and Max have been apart for barely ten hours. It’s not long enough to miss someone; not at all.
He lets Max pick up the menu and narrate it aloud to him, halfheartedly debating each item while Charles systematically empties his suitcase across the entirety of the room. Max finally toes his shoes off and slides backward to sit against the headboard, picking up the phone and fiddling with the cord as he orders them a ninety dollar pizza and a seventy dollar fruit tray and a fifteen dollar bottle of sparkling water, and then mumbles something about putting it on his room’s tab instead of Charles’, even though their teams foot the bills anyway. As soon as the phone thunks down into the cradle Charles drops the shirt he was pretending to fold and turns to crawl onto the bed and curl into Max’s side.  
Max’s hand settles on his waist, heavy and warm. “They said fifteen minutes,” Max tells him. His eyes are wide and soft.
Charles shakes his head. “That’s fine,” he answers. His chest feels too big—too full. Max is looking at him with a gentle kind of happiness, and when Charles thinks about him seeking Charles out and living in his space he feels too much. He doesn’t know what to do with it all.
He cups his face and kisses him in greeting, finally—means to keep it short and sweet, but Max pulls him closer immediately. It’s stupid; it shouldn’t feel the way it does, when they’ve barely been apart a day. It doesn’t matter.
He relaxes into Max’s hold a little too much, half-sprawled across his lap and unbalanced because of it. Max just rolls them until they’re laying sideways, their heads at the foot of the bed, kissing lazily all the while. Time turns soft and elastic, everything else drifting away, Charles caught somewhere in all the things they’re pressing against each other’s lips: hello’s and how are you’s and I missed you’s and I love you’s.
When a woman comes with the room service cart Charles has to get up and let her in with wobbly legs, his lips tingling. He winces behind her back when he registers her alpha scent as she passes him, a stark contrast to the happy tangle of Charles and Max’s scents that’s taken all of half an hour to permeate the room. There’s no way she doesn’t notice it, but she doesn’t say a word. Max gives her a bashful red-lipped smile and a tip that’s double the cost of their food, and Charles resists the urge to put his face in his hands.
25 notes · View notes
oceanspray5 · 2 months
Note
Troughts about Kai being jealousy
Thank you
Hello Anon! I am so so sorry for the late response! I've had a heck of an odd time this past month or so and I'm so sorry I didn't get to see your question in time. I hope this answers isn't too late.
I'll admit it's been a while since I've reread the Lunar Chronicles but I love Kaider and TLC still and am 100% in favor of Jealous!Kai. Heck that's something that's evident in canon! Kai gets so wrankled by the idea of Thorn escaping with Cinder and his immediate concern is that Thorn is good looking and charming and whether Cinder would find any appeal in that. Perhaps in not-so-many words but it's definitely something that bothers him about the situation and he has to pretend he's not jealous since he's already warring with the idea internally that Cinder betrayed him.
When it comes to post-books though, I don't think Kai would have any reason to be jealous. I feel he'd be incredibly secure in himself because of his upbringing and in his relationship with Cinder too after the events of the books. Perhaps there would be some moments of jealousy or insecurity when they're apart but I doubt it because I like to think Cinder would be relying on him and him on her while the world they help run goes through dramatic shifts. They wouldn't exactly have time to be entertaining any other suitors let alone worrying about the other doing so and that would give them a trust in each other despite the distance that, by the time they're finally on the same space rock again, they'd have no reason to be jealous. Or at least Kai wouldn't. I feel Cinder may still have her moments because of the unkind way she was brought up but she'd still come into her own confidence as well in a way it would bother her less than it did her character during the books.
Kai would perhaps get a little miffed if someone like a foreign prince or diplomat tried to flirt with Cinder in front of him though! However I doubt many would try given his and Cinder's relationship sort of helping to save the world and all. And Cinder would absolutely shut down anyone who tried too so I see the two of them more giggling over attempts at other people trying their luck with each other when they're already so comfortable and in love to even bother thinking of someone else.
These are my thoughts on how Kai's feelings would be, at least. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for sending the question in! 💖
11 notes · View notes
winged-wolf-dreamer · 20 days
Text
It's strange. I was not friends with Steven. I never exchanged messages with him here or on twitter when I still had it. All the correspondence was just some answered asks I sent him, that's it.
I still feel like I've been stabbed in the heart.
A Song Of Ice And Fire is... a series with layers. And the fandom has spent its time without a new book peeling apart those layers to find the meaning underneath, and few have done it as well as Steven, with his famed Chapter-By-Chapter analysis of the series. Truly, it is a foundation of the analytical side of the fandom. I'm sure I am not unique in that, even as I drifted out of the fandom, I still eagerly awaited each new installment of the series. His CBC analysis was one of the first things that allowed me to see beyond the pages of GRRM's epic.
But it was more than ASOIAF that I appreciated his work on. He had a passion for Marvel comics that helped ignite in me an interest to read them, beyond just general knowledge of the franchise. Even now, I'm reading Immortal Hulk, and I think I would not have done it if not for me reading his posts about Marvel comics in general over the past several years.
Now... I think of how he was working on another post for his CbC, the chapter on Tyrion's trial, and of the remaining chapters of ASOS he didn't get to write. The Mountain and The Viper. Lysa's confession. Tywin's death. Stoneheart's rise. And the many many chapters of the FeastDance too. I remember he talked about Brienne's journey being like Don Quixote, and it made me excited to see the analysis he would do of those chapters. And I think of how the Krakoan Era of the X-Men books was coming to an end, and a new era would soon start. Two more comics were announced for that era today, and I couldn't wait to hear his thoughts on them, as well as the new X-Men 97 episode and the final issue of Resurrection of Magneto (a miniseries he adored, if you go through his recent posts).
Most of all... I had gotten back into the fandom a few months ago by rereading ASOIAF, one chapter a day. I have kept to the one chapter part, but haven't quite been able to do it every day, and I would read the essays he did for each chapter. As of this writing, the next chapter to read is the Purple Wedding, which means I am nearing the end of his CbC posts, and that makes me feel sad. Once I pass the next Arya chapter, that will be it...
And it's not just that. I still believe we will get TWOW and maybe even ADOS and an ending, but now it will be without his reactions and analysis of the books. I sometimes imagine the reaction to GRRM announcing Winds proper, what it would be on tumblr, and now, should I ever read those books, it will be with a twinge of sadness.
I apologize for these many words. I am not a fandom contributor, nor a friend of his, just a reader of his work, but I feel his loss keenly now, and will miss him. My thoughts go to his family and friends.
And now his watch is ended.
9 notes · View notes
sugartitstownley · 1 year
Text
HC’s for Post Option C Trikey
Hey, everyone! This is nothing too formal or well written— just some thoughts put down. All mistakes are mine because I didn’t reread this at all. Trigger warnings for mentions of violence and canon compliant themes. Here’s some Trikey + a bit of Amanda/Mike/T friendship.
Michael and Amanda’s divorce is rather amicable despite years of prior arguing.
Neither want to admit their marriage is over—both worried about the kids’ reactions. But they know it’s in everyone’s best interest.
Amanda moves out of the house, opting for a beach front property like she once asked Michael for months before.
Mike decides to stay at the house for now, even if it reminds him of what a lonely, washed-up jock he really is.
It doesn’t matter, though, because he’s never home. Instead, he spends his time at the movie studio, threatening actors and crew alike (because old habits die hard, right?).
If he accidentally hits too hard and the actor just doesn’t wake up…well, who can blame him?
The rest of his time is spent in the company of Franklin, Trevor, and Lamar.
“Jesus, sugar tits. You finally have time for us outside of kissing Solomon Richards’ ass.”
“Oh, bite me, T,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as he slides into the backseat of Franklin’s car. “I’ve been busy doing my job on set.”
“Well, sorry! I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a huge celebrity.”
Franklin slams on the brakes, the car coming to a halt in front of the stoplight. “Man, if y’all two don’t shut the fuck up, I’m dropping you both off.”
In hindsight, maybe things don’t seem that different between him and Trevor after The Big One. But he knows something has changed.
Trevor’s insults and quips don’t pack as much punch; they don’t leave a bitter taste in your mouth.
And Michael? Well, he stops regulates how many times he calls his former running buddy a psycho.
Their tentative friendship rebuilds for the most part, but there’s still an added component that neither party wants to speak aloud. That, or maybe it was a returning feeling resurfacing from their youth.
Either way, Michael tries to let it go and focus on making himself semi-happy for once. However, he doesn’t factor in until later that maybe he’s been so damn unhappy for the last 10 years because of a certain murderous, incest-loving hipster.
Michael feels his heart jump out of his skin as he turns around to see Trevor leaning against the glass outside of his house. He watches Trevor give a small salute before walking over to let the taller man in.
“You can’t knock on the front door like a normal human being?” Michael asks, his voice dripping with mild annoyance. “What am I saying? Of course you can’t.”
“For your information, pork chop,” Trevor starts, walking straight past Michael to look through his fridge, “I do this to keep you young— keep you on your toes.”
He watches Trevor pull out the soup container they made a few days prior while hanging out. Like a reflex, he opens the drawer and pulls out two spoons while they wait for it to heat up in the microwave.
“Yeah, whatever. What are you even doing here anyway?”
“Can’t a guy come see his best friend without there being a reason? Not all of us are looking to gain something from their relationships, sugar.”
Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, T. When are you going to let it go? Just once I’d like to spend time with you without thinking of our past. I said I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Trevor’s eyes find his, and surprisingly, there’s nothing but understanding in them. They hold each other’s gaze a moment too long until the microwave’s beeps fill the quiet room.
Their companionship settles into a routine that even surprises Michael himself. Food will be cooked together, movies will be watched, bikers will be shot (you can’t blame Mike for getting involved sometimes most times— it’s in his blood).
The taller man’s presence becomes so normal in Michael’s life that even Jimmy and Tracey aren’t surprised to see Trevor walking throughout the house when they’re visiting.
If Michael didn’t know any better, he’d say the kids even missed their uncle— enough to visit the Rockford Hills house even when Mike himself wasn’t there.
“Argh! This game fucking sucks!”
Michael’s lips twitch into a small smile as he heads up the stairs towards Jimmy’s room. The sight in front of him doesn’t surprise him all that much considering Trevor’s cursing could likely be heard from across the street.
Michael stops at his son’s doorway, watching him and Trevor furiously tapping on controllers to try and shoot the on-screen targets.
“Uncle T,” Jimmy pipes up, cringing at the screen. “You’re standing too close to the bomb, you’re going die if you don’t—”
The blood of Trevor’s character splatters across the screen before Jimmy starts laughing uncontrollably.
“Shut the fuck up, kid! C’mon, Mikey. Let’s go do something actually worth our time.”
Michael chuckles, reaching over to fist bump Jimmy, before leaving the room with Trevor.
He’s not sure when it happened—or why— but every time he looks at Trevor and his kids while they’re together, he can’t help but think of them as a family.
Sure, Trevor is already family. His kids call him Uncle T for a reason. But that’s not what Michael means. He sees them as his family. Trevor, Michael, Jimmy, and Tracey— a family.
It could be the people of Los Santos getting inside his brain with their comments and assumptions. Every time the pair go out with the kids, there’s at least one person who calls them a “two-dad family.”
For some reason, though, it doesn’t bother Michael like it used to. He doesn’t feel guilty anymore, like he’s cheating on Amanda.
After realizing that, it hit him harder than Martin Madrazo’s baseball bat. He loves Trevor. He’s in love with Trevor, and he probably always has been. Why else would he feel like he’s doing something wrong to Mandy every time he’s with him?
He doesn’t want to even think about telling his friend, but he also knows he wants to be done keeping secrets from him forever. And apparently, he’s done keeping secrets from everyone.
“Dad,” Jimmy starts off nervously from his side of the couch. “So, like, can I ask you something?”
Michael shoots him a weary look. “If this is about me buying you that new game, I already told you no Jim.”
“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s more, ya know, personal.”
The silence drags on as Michael waits for Jimmy to continue, but he never does. “Spit it out already.”
“Look, are you and Uncle T, like, closer than you were before the divorce? You know, closer. Because, like, that’s totally cool with me. I have gay friends now, and I guess it’s better than you staying with mom and cheating. Maybe you and uncle T can, ya know, keep each other alive and shit but—”
“What? Jim! No! Trevor and I aren’t…”
Jimmy interrupts him. “But you want to be?”
“When did you get so observant all of a sudden? You sound like a fuckin’ psychologist.”
“Well, pop, you raised me in Los Santos.”
Jimmy, much to Michael’s embarrassment, prodded at him until he agreed to talk to Trevor about the “issue.”
It takes Michael another month, plus one more terribly uncomfortable conversation with Jimmy, to confess to Trevor.
“Christ, T. I think it’s possible that maybe…”
“I’ll be dead by the time you finish your sentence, sugar.”
Michael sighs. “Have you ever thought that there might be more to this?”
“More—” Trevor groans. “Can you just say what you mean for once in your life?”
“I love you, you asshole.”
Horns honking and police sirens can be heard from outside as the room becomes eerily quiet. Before Michael can truly panic, Trevor leans forward so fast that Mike’s sure he’s about to slam his head into his nose, but the searing pain never comes.
Instead, Trevor’s lips push against his while his hands tug Michael’s hair to bring him closer.
It’s cliché. It’s really fucking cliché. But, for once, Michael feels like he’s doing something right for a change.
“I love you, Mikey.”
After that, not much changes really. The only difference is that, now, when Trevor comes over after a long day of doing God knows what, Michael gets to sit on the couch wasting away with his boyfriend’s head lazily rested on his shoulder.
Or, sometimes, between his legs.
Telling Franklin and Lamar ended up being easy. Neither was all that surprised. In fact, Lamar even tried to start a bet once about when they’d “stop sucking as people and start sucking each other,” but Franklin put a stop to that real quick.
Other than that, Frank was supportive.
“I’m happy for you, dog. Maybe now you’ll stop being so miserable.”
Michael smirks. “I don’t know, but I think this is a good start.”
Telling Amanda and the kids was…interesting.
Jimmy, of course, knew already. But he was surprised that his dad actually grew the balls to do it.
Tracey was a little more shocked; she always thought the jokes about her dad and Uncle T were just that— jokes. Plus, she worried that her dad had been cheating before with him, but they assured her that wasn’t the case.
Tracey tried to act a little stubborn just in case her mom wasn’t okay with the relationship, but she was secretly happy for them.
Amanda, having found her own happiness outside of Michael, took it rather well too.
“This just started, right? You weren’t…together…during our marriage?”
“No, Mand,” Michael reassures her before sparing a glance at Trevor who is across the room talking to Tracey and Jim. “I only just realized it.”
“Well, I always wondered why on Earth you would stick by his side through some of the shit he has done,” Amanda says, her voice growing softer. “And now I know.”
Michael lets his gaze move back to his ex-wife’s. “I’m sorry I was such a prick to you.”
“I wasn’t perfect either.”
He’s about to respond when he feels a hand land on his shoulder. He looks up to see Trevor hovering above him while looking at Amanda.
“Hey,” Trevor points a finger at her. “You better accept his apology or I’ll be hearing about it for the rest of the year.”
Michael watches Amanda actually crack a smile towards Trevor. “He was always really miserable. But, lucky for me, he’s your problem now.”
Michael scoffs. “Hello, I’m right here!”
“Yeah, we know. It’s hard to miss you, pork chop.”
Despite Trevor’s remarks, Michael can hear the man’s smile as he walks back over to join Tracey and Jim, and that makes the sides of his lips curl into a small smile too.
“I’m not going to say I understand it completely,” Amanda admits. “But if you’re happy, then I’m glad.”
“I am. I think I finally am.”
91 notes · View notes
firstelevens · 3 months
Note
hi zainab!!!! 2, 3, 6, and 29 for the fic writer ask???
Hi Mak! Thank you for sending these in!
2. Do you read/reread your own fics?
Yes, because I am absolutely my own biggest fan!
On a much more practical note, sometimes I reread because it's part of a series and I'm checking a canonical detail (although if it's in the Bake Off AU I'm better off just asking @sesamestreep, who is the official lorekeeper and knows that universe's canon better than I do.) Other times, there's a fic where I just really like what I did with a character's voice or the general tone of a scene and I'll go back just to get a feel for what I did the last time.
3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?
I mean, the Bake Off AU has my whole heart and there's so much of me in it that it will always be special to me BUT!!! I really love the Thunderbolts-era epistolary fic counted days, counted miles because I think it's an exercise in me managing to show writerly restraint, which is a skill I'm still working on. (And also I got to come up with so many fun spy tricks for hiding letters; it was great.)
6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?
How fortuitous that you picked this question when I have reread wish that i could wind (like a spiral stair through time) FIVE TIMES in the past month. That fic is a work of art. I am also never far from rereading and never ever watch the ten o'clock news, which is Emma's phenomenal Psych AU of Rogue One which is just so wonderful and funny and it continues to hold up. Oh also! There's don't read the last page, which is a Brooklyn Nine-Nine fic that is short and sweet and just so warm and cozy and I go back to that one a lot just for the mood of it.
29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic.
Okay so this question reminded me that there's a 1200 word scene from the Formula 1 AU that was originally going to be the epilogue but got canned which SUBSEQUENTLY reminded me that there's a whole scene that I wrote for the Bake Off AU that got cut from Chapter 6 because things ended up going another way!
The beginning will looks familiar if you remember anything from that chapter, but then there's a sharp left turn that involves the lost plot point of Becca Barnes creeping on Joaquín's thirst trap and restaurant review filled Instagram in order to figure out where Bucky could go for dinner. I was sad to lose it tbh but the restaurant still made it into the fic as the place where Sam and Bucky go out on their definitely-not-a-date in Chapter 10.
A peek at the alternate timeline under the cut!
Bucky is starfished on his bed, trying to muster the energy to get up when his phone rings. His eyes are squeezed shut, but he opens one to peer at the screen. He only answers because it’s Becca, but he’s too tired to do more than grunt into the phone when he picks up.
“Good day, huh?” she asks, laughing when he just groans in response.
“Hope yours was better than mine,” Bucky says, when he finally manages to talk. “How’s day shift treating you?”
“I’m discovering that there’s this thing in the sky called the sun, and it provides light? And makes people happy? Do you think other people know about it? Should I be telling them?”
He laughs tiredly. “You can use all this newfound energy to make a TikTok about it.”
“I’ll get on that,” Becca says. “What about you? You okay?”
“Yeah,” says Bucky, bringing his hand up to his face. “I just need to lie down for a while.”
Not that lying down for the past half hour has helped, but he’s got high hopes for that sixty minute mark.
“No, what you need to do is eat something,” Becca says, sounding remarkably like their mother. “Tell me your head isn’t hurting right now.”
Bucky freezes, his fingers still pressed into his temples. “It’s creepy when you do that, you know.”
She laughs. “I know. Hey, why don’t you go to that place that you and Steve went to all the time, the one with the waffles?”
The last time Bucky had been there, four years ago, he’d spent the entire evening bickering companionably with Sam while Steve dealt with a work emergency. It had felt remarkably like flirting, and he’d even thought about asking Sam to get a drink sometime—and then Bucky had been eliminated after the next day’s Showstopper, and that put an end to that.
He shakes his head to clear it. “I’m tired, Bec, and they pick us up at like, six AM. I think I might just grab something from the convenience store.”
“Buck, I spend half my time listening to newborn babies cry and that is still the most pitiful thing I’ve heard this week. You are not eating yogurt for dinner alone in your hotel room.”
Bucky huffs. “Well, I’d grab a random stranger off the street to join me, but I’m not looking to get murdered today, Rebecca.”
He can hear the sound of Becca typing, doing the thing where she studiously ignores his asshole behavior until he comes around and starts acting a more like a person. It’s annoying how well it works. 
After a minute or two of typing and what he assumes is scrolling, she lets out a, “Huh.”
When he waits for her to elaborate and she doesn’t, Bucky sighs. “What is it?”
“Do you know a Joaquín Torres?”
It’s far from the question he was expecting but Bucky answers in the affirmative. “He’s a baking consultant on the show.”
More typing. “Does he have good taste?”
There’s a tiny, childish part of Bucky that wants to say no, because Torres is chirpy and bright-eyed and his unfailing enthusiasm is exhausting at times, but that would be a lie. “Yeah, he knows his stuff. Why?”
“He lives in Atlanta; he posts about a lot of local hidden gems. There’s a Tunisian restaurant a couple blocks from your hotel, apparently? Kind of looks like a hole in the wall but he says the food is amazing.”
“I don’t know, Bec. It’s late and eating out alone is depressing.” His limbs feel heavy, and his shoulder is starting to hurt from having the prosthetic on for so long, and he knows that food would make his headache go away, but he just can’t drag himself off the bed.
Like Becca knows what track his mind is on—and honestly, she probably does—, she chooses this moment to go for the knockout. “Come on, Buck; it’s my job to look out for you, and you’re too far away for me to drag you out to dinner and make sure you eat. Throw a girl a bone here.”
She’s too powerful for her own good.
Bucky drags a hand down his face, sighing again. “You know, I hear some people don’t let their baby sisters tell them what to do all the time.”
“Poor them,” says Becca.
“Poor them,” echoes Bucky, and asks her to text him the address.
When she does, he looks it up and realizes that it really is only two blocks away: completely walkable, even in Atlanta’s late spring heat, and only a little further than the convenience store where he’d planned to grab his apparently pathetic dinner.
It’s only when he gets to the door of the restaurant that he remembers it’s a Saturday night and he probably should have thought to make a reservation. The place only has a handful of tables to begin with, and they’ve all got people at them. The host already has an apologetic look on his face as Bucky walks in, but they both turn in surprise when they hear someone inside the restaurant call out to him.
“Bucky!” says Joaquín, as brightly as ever. “Come sit with us.”
Because the universe has a sense of humor, ‘us’ is of course Joaquín and Sam, who are having dinner together. Alone. On a Saturday night.
It can’t be a date, Bucky reasons. No one would invite a random acquaintance to third-wheel their date, right?
He realizes that he still hasn’t responded when the host assures him that of course they’ll be able to add another place setting to the table, and before he knows it, Bucky is being whisked over to their table.
Whatever mood had settled over Sam after the signature today seems to have dissipated, and he turns to Bucky with a grin on his face. “I hope you trust Torres over here, because he ordered way too much food for us and didn’t let me see the menu.”
Joaquín shrugs. “I come here a lot,” he says. “Not enough people know about it, but it’s amazing.”
“Which is why he’s on a mission to be their one-man marketing team,” says Sam. “We got here half an hour ago and he’s already posted on Instagram like, ten times.”
Bucky thinks of the sound of Becca on her computer as she’d talked to him earlier, how she’d pivoted from suggesting the diner he’d probably have ended up at to this specific restaurant, and suddenly, this coincidence feels markedly less like a coincidence.
He’d probably feel more annoyed about it if he didn’t spend the meal close enough to Sam for their shoulders to constantly be brushing. Torres is right; the food is great, but if anyone asks, Bucky’s pretty sure the only thing he’d be able to recount is how many times Sam touched his arm to ask him to pass things, or dished some more food onto his plate, or gently nudged him while telling Joaquín stories of their time filming season two.
When the check comes, Bucky insists on paying, to make up for crashing Sam and Joaquín’s dinner, and as they stand on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, Joaquín offers to drop them off at the hotel on his way home. He’s about to accept when Sam waves it off. 
“I think we’ll just walk back,” says Sam. “It’s so nice out, and the hotel’s probably closer than your car is.”
There’s a moment where all three of them silently commiserate over the trials of city parking, and then Joaquín says he’ll see them tomorrow and heads off.
Bucky glances sidelong at Sam, whose eyebrows are knitted together as he looks down the street towards their hotel. He can see the entrance from where they’re standing, but Sam gently touches his elbow and nods down the street to their left—the long way, Bucky realizes, a moment too late.
10 notes · View notes