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flowered-mp3 · 3 years

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quick f___ - im changkyun

pairing: ex-boyfriend changkyun + female reader

genre: angsty (yet soft ?) post-break up drunk sex. lol that’s it.

word count: 1.7k+ (this was supposed to be a drabble lmfao flurry i am so sorry lol)

warnings: explicit sexual content, cursing, alcohol, very very VERY slight degradation, exhibitionism, unprotected sex

summary: you meet with your ex-boyfriend at a party, and you’re weak.

rating: 18+

author’s note: my first entry for @flurrys-creativity tipsy drabbles, based on this and the cocktail called quick f*** (literally not even kidding, this is a real drink)! uhm yes this was supposed to be a drabble but i couldn’t help myself and i was tipsy and i got carried away oops what’s new ok bye have fun

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[library] [monsta x library] [tipsy drabbles masterlist]

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You two, are absolutely out of it.

Absolutely fuckin’ out of it.

The amount of alcohol that you both consumed in combination at this party means that every rational thought is thrown out of the window, along with the ability to comprehend that sex with your ex-boyfriend is not socially acceptable in a public area.

You weren’t even supposed to be seen in the same room as Changkyun. You tasked your best friend before entering the party to enforce the rule you made for yourself, but clearly, her efforts are in vain. Regardless of the methods you used to avoid him for the night, you’re still unbelievably, undeniably drawn to him. Just by spotting him across the room, looking incredibly attractive with his dark hair tied up, denim shirt partially unbuttoned, metal frames, and fresh eyebrow piercing made you completely forget why you broke up with him in the first place.

You broke up with him because he was a distraction from your career, your life, and your family. His piercings, tattoos, and dark long hair clashes with your parent’s vision of an ideal son-in-law, and just the sight of him made your stomach churn in self-loathing.

It isn’t because you hate him. You loved him and still do, even after all this time. But the wound that was fresh began to fester. It was complete torture to witness Changkyun move on and live his life without you, when you’re plagued by thoughts of him every single waking second. It reminded you of the fact that you left him, it represented the fact that you chose pleasing your family over your own happiness with him. It made you feel like utter shit, all of your mistakes in the past being shoved back into your face to see. The entire situation emphasized that you’re the person agonized without his presence and his touch.

Unfortunately, you’re weak when it comes to him, and you know it. All it took was a touch on your arm and the sound of his low voice in your ear to get your fragile self-control to crumble away. All you’re left with was pure, unadulterated desire; a need to have him in your arms again.

Every step that you took with Changkyun chipped away at your self-restraint. But once he pulled you away from the crowd to the empty second floor and his mouth attached itself to your neck in the fragile safety of the empty hallway, you were gone.

That brings you to the present. You and Changkyun drunk out of your minds, his body enveloping yours as he fucks you with a vengeance against a wall. All you can make out is his face and his body against yours, one of your legs wrapped around his waist and the other perpendicular to the floor, foot jerking upwards with each delicious snap of his hips against yours. You try to maintain your sanity but it feels incredibly good to have him with you, to have him inside you after all this time, making the events of earlier fade into the background.

Changkyun is being noticeably rougher than other times that you’ve been with him, kisses sloppy, teeth biting marks into your neck and jaw as his nails dig into the flesh on your hips painfully. Pulling away from his lips, your hazy gaze meets his, Changkyun’s eyes exhibiting emotion that you didn’t expect. You didn’t think that he cared about you at all anymore, judging by his demeanor a couple of hours ago. But underneath the fluttering eyelids and deep groans, he looks betrayed.

But before you can even comprehend what’s happening, he decides to drill into you harder. His thrusts are becoming so brutal that you jolt against the wall, hands shooting out behind you in an attempt to stabilize your body, tears beginning to bead up on your lash line.

It’s as if he’s punishing you for leaving him; for hurting him.

You can’t help but feel like you deserve it.

You want so badly to apologize to him; to say that you’re tortured without him; to say that you’re sorry that you chose good faith with your family over him, even when you know that he’s a great man capable of what your family believes that he lacks.

You love him so much, and you’re going to show it.

Grasping his jaw with your palms, your eyes stare into his with as much affection as you can possibly muster at the moment.

“I love you,” you whisper, so quiet that Changkyun can barely make your voice out over the blaring music on the first floor. He moans throatily in response before crashing his lips against yours fervently, coaxing your mouth open with a slide of his tongue. You wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss each other frantically, your movement making Changkyun press your back into the wall harder. Pulling away from your lips, he halts his movements to rest his forehead against the wall beside your head, overwhelmed by your confession. You’ve said it before, but the fact that you still love him after all this time apart makes him shudder, his heart beating out of his chest as he’s overcome with emotion.

“Say it again,” he demands before a hand leaves your waist, reaching between your legs to rub small, quick circles on your clit, slamming his cock back inside your wet entrance unceremoniously. In no time, he resumes his previous momentum, your hands clawing at the tattoo on his back you’ve always loved.

“I love you… Oh my God, Fuck me-” you moan incoherently, forgetting that the crowd of people downstairs could hear you if you get too loud. A guttural groan manages to sneak out of his mouth at your repeated admission, his lips moving to brush against the base of your throat, licking a long patch of skin there, huffing out pants and muffled sounds of pleasure.

You’re trying your best to remain as quiet as you possibly can, but you’re drunk and he’s making it ridiculously hard.

Changkyun is relentless, his fingers continuing to move on your clit as the other squeezes your ass, rocking your body even harder against the wall. He relishes in the weak, muffled cries escaping your lips, canting your hips against his own desperately.

Whispering heatedly into the air, you tell him how much you miss him, how much you need him, repeating how much you love him. Changkyun swallows your confessions with a searing, impassioned kiss, showing you in his own way that he reciprocates those feelings with the same intensity.

Unbeknownst to you, someone decides to use the spare bathroom on the same floor that you’re on. You don’t hear them come up, but Changkyun does, the hand on your ass leaving to slap over your mouth to keep you silent. You expect him to completely stop, wait for the stranger to go back to the party, then resume. But to your shock, he continues fucking into you with the same ferocity and vigor, a lewd, wet slapping sound echoing in your ears.

You end up slamming the back of your head against the wall behind you, biting your lip and muffling your moans against his palm. There’s an increased chance of a random person stumbling upon you two, but it gives you a rush that Changkyun already knows of.

You don’t even care at this point and it seems like he doesn’t either, judging by how loud you’re both becoming, regardless of the efforts that are being made. Ignoring the presence of the stranger, he decides to throw caution to the wind, fueled by the alcohol pumping throughout his body.

“Hm… You like that someone can hear us, huh?” Changkyun teases after removing his hand from your mouth, grabbing your jaw roughly, “Such a fuckin’ slut,” he growls hotly.

He clearly remembers all of the pet names to use; all the buttons to press in order to have you fall apart. It gifts him a high-pitched whine leaving your mouth, the tip of his cock pressing deep inside your core.

“Only for you,” you slur, barely managing to respond through the moans escaping your lips. Changkyun groans deeply, a lascivious, possessive satisfaction washing over him at your response. Combined with his fingers working on your clit, it makes you tremble underneath him, walls pulsing around his length, your leg beginning to shake in an effort to keep yourself upright. Luckily, he seems to understand that you’re getting tired, so he loops his arm around your leg, keeping you from slumping onto the floor.

“Close, baby?” he rasps lowly, making you shiver at his usage of a pet name that you haven’t heard in a while. Nodding dumbly, your mind becomes increasingly delirious by the second, eyes glassed over as you grasp at his bicep for purchase.

Wanting to get you there before he does, his thrusts get nearly animalistic. Finally, you fall apart in his arms, moaning wantonly as you come with an intensity that makes your thighs shake. You roll your eyes into the back of your head before closing them tightly, clamping down on his cock in such a way that makes Changkyun lose it completely.

He mumbles both dirty and affectionate phrases into your ear as he comes inside you, spurting inside you violently as his hips twitch against you. Dropping your leg from around his waist, Changkyun wraps his arms around your torso to pull you in for a breathless kiss. Your hands leave his bicep to brace yourself against his firm chest, fingers threading into his hair to deepen it, moaning contently against his mouth. You whine in disappointment when he pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting your tongues filthily.

“I love you too. Always have,” he admits, breath fanning over your lips softly, “And that isn’t the whiskey talking,” he adds, a gentle smile spreading on his face when he spots your facial expression, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

You’re surprised that Changkyun’s disposition makes an entire 180 from before, the punishing grip on your waist loosening to a soft caress as his nose nuzzles against yours tenderly. It comforts you though, finally feeling brave enough to apologize to him, no longer afraid of the backlash that you could receive from him.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t choose you,” you apologize to him, eyes boring into his to hopefully convey your sincerity. Luckily, he brings you in for a gentle embrace, kissing your temple tenderly, not even bothering to adjust your clothing.

Regardless of what happened in the past, it looks like you two are going to be ok.

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- yue <3

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#tw degradation #monsta x #monsta x changkyun #monsta x i.m #monsta x story #monsta x smut #monsta x imagine #monsta x scenario #changkyun smut #im changkyun smut #kpop smut #monsta x writing #mx #myworks:quickfuck #tw alcohol

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multifandomwritings · 3 years

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How the slashers would react to their S/O painting their nails

So sorry again for how slow I am these days! I promise I’m not ignoring anyone or haven’t forgotten! (also my confidence in my writing has once again plummeted so aslfkdj) I hope you all like this ^^ (if anyone has any character suggestions lemme know! Like horror characters and slashers. However if I end up adding more I might have to start splitting these up a bit!)

Thomas:

- Thomas might be hesitant at first, but the second you took his burly hand into your own, he'd melt

- You would get complete creative control — he wouldn't mind what colors you chose, and any worries of being teased by his family would disappear as he watched how eager you were

- Seeing you so fixated on his hands would make him blush beneath his mask, though he would appreciate the opportunity to freely stare at you as you worked

- He'd smile to himself every time he looked at them, and would happily let you do it again (No one, even Hoyt, dares to tease him about anything relating to you after a certain point, knowing it’s off limits! So he’ll happily show them off. Luda Mae thinks it’s precious, but is also kind of salty that you haven’t offered to do hers lol)

Brahms:

- Brahms would take any affection and attention he could get, so the second you even suggested it he'd just sit down and put his hands out for you

- You wouldn't be able to stop smiling at how seriously he took it. He'd have a surprisingly good eye for color combinations, handing you the colors he liked and making you blush with how he focused on you

- He'd want to polish yours too: matching colors, of course (when you noticed this, you'd smile even wider, which would not go unnoticed by Brahms, who would smile in self satisfaction)

- This would probably become a regular thing. He’d adore anything like that, that made him feel close to you. Of course you have to match though! Or at the very least, coordinate 👉👈

Michael:

- Michael wouldn't really know how to react to you asking about it, to be honest. He wouldn't really mind, he'd just be kind of iffy about it

- It would probably take him a while to warm up to this (or pretty much anything) but he ~might~ allow it, since it's you

- If you reach for anything pastel or colorful he'd just take your hand to stop you and shake his head, causing you to have to hold back a laugh

- He wouldn't admit it, but he'd actually like how it looked. He'd forget about it, and would think of you every time he noticed them. He isn't really soft but he would be for you

Jason:

- You’d be going through your nail polishes when you’d gesture for him to come over and sit, offering to paint his nails

- He agrees of course! Like he’s gonna refuse anything you wanna do for him like that!...Although you’ll have to excuse his slightly crusty hands

- He always admires your own nail polish, thinking the colors are so pretty and cute. If you offer to let him pick out the colors he’ll just shake his head, knowing you’ll choose something nice

You, reaching your hand to hold his while you polish: Okay, gimme your hand

Him, ~misunderstanding~: *takes your hand as if to hold it*

You: 🥺🥺🥺

(A bonus thought that you might disagree with: if you’d been in a relationship with Jason for a while, he’d begin to pick up on his own cuteness. Or at least, what you think is cute. And he’d take advantage of it, if only to make you smile. Also, he secretly loves the effect he has on you alsdkfj)

Bubba:

- Bubba would love this. He'd carefully watch and learn, already planning on doing yours too

- If you hold his hand while you do it his stomach would be full of butterflies, cheeks all pink beneath his mask. He adores when you’re soft with him like that

- He'd probably chip them up really quickly, to his own dismay. When he would notice, he'd want them done again asap, as they'd remind him of you

- You would melt when he did yours. He hold your hand close to his face, focusing intently and going slowly to make sure it was perfect

Chop Top:

- It would probably be his idea to be honest. He'd see you doing your nails and would excitedly pester you about it until you did his, too

- You end up getting ~playfully~ annoyed, as he'd keep pulling his hands away to look and would keep changing his mind on what colors to use

- Eventually you just snatch his hand and hold it still so you can finish. He'd stop whatever he was saying with a nervous laugh, getting surprisingly flustered at you being like that with him

- He'd be another that would paint yours, too, trying his best to pick colors that would suit you. He'd adore his, and would want to impress you by doing his best!

Nubbins:

- Nubbins would see you doing your own nails and wouldn’t even give you the opportunity to offer to do his. He’d just pick up a random color and would start doing it himself (badly)

- You don’t really notice at first but after a while you glance up and chuckle at what a sloppy job he’s done, prompting him to smile at you so sweetly that you don’t even say anything about it

- Instead, you just gesture for him to hand it over, which he happily does. You can’t help but smile at how delicately he drapes his hands into your own, allowing you to fix his mistakes and finish it

- Once you’re done he’ll continue holding your hand, too. Good luck getting unlatched for a bit. Nubbins will use any excuse he can to be close to you (tbh he doesn’t need an excuse but if he has one he’ll use it)

Beetlejuice:

- Beetlejuice would probably tease you for suggesting it, despite the fact that he'd be choosing his colors as he did

- Spooky colors only, of course! Neon purple, black, green, things like that. He'd love it, tbh

- He'd be flirting with you the entire time, enjoying the close proximity as he could watch your face flush as he spoke

- Despite his teasing, he'd actually enjoy things like that a lot. He'd love that you wanted to do things like that for him, feeling all special and cared for

Candyman:

- Daniel would probably seem a little indifferent to it at first, although he would enjoy seeing you dote over him like that

- He'd smile to himself as he watched you carefully pick colors, refraining from suggesting anything because he'd want to see what you thought would suit him

- He makes you melt the whole time, his hand gently draped over yours as you try to ignore his intense gaze, gnawing at your lip all the while

- He would unintentionally show them off *a lot*, showing off his hand way more than he normally would. You'd have to hold back smiles as you noticed, finding it so sweet

Bo:

- Sort of like Beetlejuice in that he'd tease you and act playfully annoyed like, "You want to paint my nails? Pfft, I don't know..." (he says, while sitting down and stretching his hands across the table for you)

- Isn't really paying attention (or so he'd have you think), just looking around or closing his eyes while you polished away, occasionally glancing over to see what you were up to when he thought you weren't looking

- If Bo liked you, he'd pretty much go with anything tbh. You could paint his nails the softest, brightest colors and he wouldn't even really have the heart to gripe about it, seeing you all smiley over it

- Will be all smiley himself anytime he looks at them, but if someone else notices (besides you) he'll shoot them a death glare

Vincent:

- You wanna paint his nails? Okay! He has no hesitation whatsoever and will ask no questions — if you want to, you can

- You’re so cute to him and he loves your attention, anything you want to do like that he’ll allow. If you want to do his nails, brush/play with his hair, or anything like that, you can! In fact, please do 🥺

- Will be smiling the whole time behind his mask, happily suggesting colors if you ask. He’ll end up with cute and sparkly rainbow nails because you both keep finding different colors you like

- He would do yours, too. All the colors you couldn’t fit on his hands will go on yours! You both have equally colorful nails that will be teased by Bo and Lester, who are both secretly envious of Vincent (plz do their nails too)

Lester:

- When you asked if you could polish his nails, he'd immediately light up, loving the idea of it but quickly getting shy

- He'd disappear for a second so he could go scrub his hands and make them as clean and pretty as possible for you

- He'd be kinda nervous?? His eyes would be flickering back and forth between your face and his hands, smiling as he watched you

- Little things like this would make his heart flutter endlessly, and he'd try so hard to keep them all tidy and unchipped. (This would result in him being ridiculously delicate with everything he touched) He'd love them no matter what colors you chose!

Graverobber:

- Graverobber has some clammy, crusty hands, (I mean, he hangs out in dumpsters) so beware. Still, if you offer to paint his nails, he’ll just lazily offer up his hands without a second thought

- Watches you the whole time with a satisfied smile. Anytime you glance up and catch him, he’ll give you a look that somehow manages to be both sheepish and smug, wiggling his eyebrow to make you laugh

- He'd smile every time he looked at them, thinking of you. You’d match them to the streaks in his hair which makes him just :o !! Will show them off a lot too

- He'd wear them until they were completely chipped up (which wouldn’t take long), patiently hoping you'd offer to do them again

Luigi:

- Luigi would initially agree with no complaints, but chances are you’ll only get a few nails done before he gets impatient

- He feels kind of bad about it later, though, seeing them unfinished and smiling a bit as they reminded him of you. If he’s in a grouchy mood he’ll ease up right away when he sees them

- He’ll let you finish later, though not without some amount of awkwardness, as he’d be embarrassed to bring it back up

- Of course, you’re happy to do it though! You snatch his hands right up and get to work, choosing colors such as black, red and white. He’d smile the whole time he watched you. His expression would change freakishly fast if someone interrupted, though

Pavi:

- He probably paints his nails anyways, but he’d always be happy to be doted over by you, so of course he’ll accept your offer!

- If you offer while he’s already wearing nail polish he’ll quickly run off and remove it so you won’t change your mind

- Compliments you the whole time, even if you’re just messing around. You end up giggling the whole time at how extra he is, calling you an artist and talented and actually making you blush quite a bit with how sincere he was about it

- Shows his nails off endlessly, staring at them constantly and making it a point to be as showy with his hands as possible. The moment they chip he’ll be so over-the-top dramatic, only feeling better once you’ve redone them (you will forever be Pavi’s manicurist from then on, sigh)

Billy Lenz:

- Probably confused by it, but he'd be happy to give it a try. He'd watch you intently the entire time, saying very little

- ...Which would result in you getting nervous, low-key trying to rush through it and accidentally messing one or two up (Cue Billy looking at you like smh, Y/N, smh...)

- He’s only messing though, he genuinely couldn’t care less about it really. You could be painting his whole finger and he doesn’t even mind because he’s more focused on you and the fact that you’re doing something like that for him

- He is unused to being treated like this so he never really knows how to react. Any kind of looking after will always be met with some amount of nervousness, though he adores it. Will retreat to the attic afterwards and just stare at his nails like 🥺 (Even the messy ones! Especially the messy ones tbh)

Asa Emory (The Collector):

- He'd agree to you doing his nails so quickly that you'd actually be shocked, not expecting compliance at all. He'd offer up his hands so willingly that your jaw would almost hit the floor

- Nothing flashy! He just wants tidy, pretty nails. He's very sure about what he wants, which would almost make you laugh, as he'd be quite assertive about it

- Needless to say, he'd stare at you intently the whole time, lips twisted into a small but wicked smile as he noticed your cheeks flushing and eyes refusing to meet his

- He'll do yours too, of course. You have to bite your lip the whole time to keep yourself from smiling because he’s so meticulous. He’ll carefully choose a color, eyeing you for approval before pulling your hand close to his face, seriously and slowly polishing each nail

Otis Driftwood:

- Otis will absent-mindedly swat your hand away when you try to do his nails. However, when he glanced over to see you frowning at his grouchiness, he’ll feel bad and will just roll his eyes as he gives up his hands

- Will complain the whole time though. It smells! It’s cold! Stop squeezing my hand! (Tbh he loves these kinds of gestures, but he’s guarded, to put it simply, so he doesn’t know how to deal with it. So, he’ll gripe, all while staring at you lovingly when you aren’t looking)

- You end up using simple colors such as black and white, and he would end up liking it much better than he thought he would. In fact, he’d want you to do it again in the future, but would be too embarrassed about his complaining to ask

- You’re going to have to give the whole family manicures now too though, especially Baby (honestly probably pedicures too? They’d get greedy lol)

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solarwonux · 3 years

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10. I still remember the way you taste.

yoongi x f!reader

w.c: 3.8k (YES I GOT CARRIED AWAY SUE ME)

warnings: smut, semi unprotected sex, make up sex, some angst. Briefly edited.

note: lol i think I forgot how to write smut but anyway, hi, um, yes I got carried away lmao. But yeah let me know your thoughts. Send me a drabble prompt hehe. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoy.

drabble game

“I still remember the way you taste.” Yoongi’s knee is wedged in between your thighs as he attacks your neck in desperate open-mouthed kisses. “Yoongi, f-fuck, s-stop.” You say in between pants, placing your hands against his chest in an attempt to create some sort of space between the two of you.

Yoongi smirks against your skin and lifts his head, eyeing you down, pushing his hips further into yours, showing you how much he needed you. “I’ve been holding back from you all weekend. The guys even have a bet going on to see how long I can keep my distance from you.” His hand travels down the side of your body, bunching your silk dress up to your thighs. “Safe to say Jungkook, Hoseok, and Seokjin have lost.”

You roll your eyes. “God, don’t talk about them right now.” You run a finger down his clothed chest, stopping above the first button of his vest. “At least not when you’re about to fuck me in the bathroom of your best friend’s wedding reception” You pop the first button, earning an enticing low groan from your ex-boyfriend.

“Hey!” He exclaims flicking your forehead lightly, “he’s your best friend too.”

“Yoongi, I’m serious I hear their names come out of your lips one more time and I’ll leave you to take care of yourself.” You say as he apologizes with a nod of his head. You unbutton the next two buttons of his vest, stopping before pushing it off his body finally taking in the situation and your surroundings. The bathroom wasn’t dirty, nor was it clean. It had a musty smell making you wonder if someone had already done the deed before the two of you walked in. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” You quirk a questioning eyebrow.

He shakes his head in disbelief, “I’m not walking through the reception and the hotel lobby with a boner.” He grinds his hips against yours, proving his point. You let out a moan throwing your head back, hitting the wall behind you lightly. He felt so good, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the hand dryer was painfully digging into your back. You would’ve agreed with his statement.

“Just stay behind me, I’ll cover you. Who’s room is closer?” You push him away, finally creating the distance you needed. You turn to face the mirror, fixing your smudged lipstick. Yoongi was shocked, staring at you. God, you were so sexy, the product of his late-night escapades by himself. Especially after the two of you had mutually called it quits.

All throughout the weekend you were driving him crazy, reeling him in to then push him away. He suspects that was your revenge for breaking up with you. One you only agreed to because you knew that once his mind was set on something, there was no way to talk him out of it.

He had almost survived. Almost. That small buzzword was thrown out the window the second you entered the green room where he and all the rest of the groomsmen were waiting in to let them know the ceremony was going to start in five minutes. The long silk lilac dress you were wearing left little to his imagination, one he didn’t have to use much because he had spent years memorizing every single part of your body.

You giggle at his dazed look, sending him a wink through the mirror before turning to face him again, planting a slow sensual kiss against his lips, pulling away before he could respond. “Hurry up or I might change my mind.” You pat his chest and walk past him. “I’ll wait outside.” You say in a sing-song voice and Yoongi was now fully convinced you were messing with him. Exuding your revenge and he had foolishly fallen into your trap.

The walk through the reception was a nightmare.

Yoongi felt like he couldn’t breathe, his hand sweating in between yours. He sent glares into your back and they only got worse every time you stopped to talk about your new start-up business, with someone he barely recognized. He was proud of you for finally leaving your job. He had witnessed many of your angry breakdowns, his heart shattering every time you cried into his chest because of how unhappy you were working for your dream company. That when he finally got word that you had left and started your own company, boldly rivaling your old one. The sigh of relief he let out was monumental. He was proud of you and would’ve told you, praised you, as you happily explained your ideas. That’s if he was thinking with his head and heart not his dick, which was straining painfully against the waistband of his slacks. If it wasn’t for his suit jacket doing most of the work in hiding it he would’ve died out of pure agony and embarrassment.

“We finally found an office and we’re moving in when Jimin gets back from his honeymoon. Sadly, he says I’m not allowed to start decorating without him, scared I’ll put an outside fountain in the middle of the whole place.” You say, prompting a booming laugh from Jimin’s dad.

Jimin’s mom shakes her head, “he gets his perfectionism from my side of the family, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, honestly, I don’t have an ounce of interior design in my body, so I’d rather he be there to supervise before he yells at me saying that I’ve ruined everything.”

Yoongi could feel the sweat start to pool above his brow, tuning you and Jimin’s parents out. He had never felt this needy in his entire life. He supposes it's the adrenaline rush of seeing you in such a revealing dress or the fact that he missed you. The last year and a half without you had been awful. Everything reminded him of you and he had to fight the urge to just call you. He never did. Afraid you had found it in yourself to finally hate him for breaking your heart.

“Yoongi, sweetheart, are you okay?” Jimin’s mom asked, placing the back of her hand against his forehead, making him flinch. “Oh dear, you’re burning up, maybe you should go lay down.” The worry in her voice was evident, melting his heart. Jimin’s parents always treated him like he was one of their own, welcoming him with open arms when Jimin had first invited him and the guys over for lunch after school almost ten years ago. When Yoongi’s parents had kicked him out for choosing to study music production instead of something ‘meaningful’ they had taken him and even offered to pay for his school expenses. He owed them a lot, and if circumstances were different he would’ve thanked them profusely, just like he always did.

“I think he has a fever so I’m going to walk him back to his room.” You nod your head, letting go of his hand and looping your arm with his. “It must’ve been the shrimp appetizer, he’s never been good with seafood, right baby?” The evil glint in your eye was too much. You’re teasing was getting too much for him to handle. He’s never seen this side of you. It excited him.

“Right!”

“Oh please, hurry, we’ll let Jimin know you had to leave early I’m sure he’ll understand.” Jimin’s mom said, pushing the two of you towards the exit.

Once the two of you were away, closer to the double doors of the reception hall you leaned in, “How are you holding up?”

“Get me out of here before I drag you to the nearest bathroom again.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” You hold your hand out before Yoongi can step any closer to your body. A sound of annoyance erupting from his chest. Once upon a time, Yoongi had prided himself in being patient. Tonight was not one of those times.

The second the two of you were alone in the elevator, his hands and mouth were all over you. Painting beautiful flowers with his mouth against your skin. The noises he had elicited from you made his chest swell with pride and his cock throb painfully against his pants. Every ounce of self control he once harbored was long gone. He didn’t want to miss another second where he wasn’t touching you.

Yoongi had almost lost his mind while you were fumbling to get the door to your hotel room open. Though, that was mainly his fault, he literally couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Yet, now that you were finally in the safety of your hotel room, Yoongi didn’t understand why you were still resisting him and it made him even more frustrated both sexually and emotionally. “What, what do I have to wait for now, I’m so close to coming in my pants please just let me fuck you.” He all but begged, even considered getting down on his knees and kissing the ground you walked on. Though, when he saw you smirk, he knew he had done exactly what you had hoped he would do.

“Fuck you.” He closed the distance, sighing when you innocently took a step back.

“I’m trying to but I need to take my shoes off.” You pouted, pointing to your heel cladded feet in front of you, arms behind your back as you swayed from side to side. Yoongi shook his head before taking you into your arms and walking you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You fell back sitting down as Yoongi got down on his knees in front of you.

“Are you punishing me?” He asked with a pout on his lips.

You giggled placing both of your hands against his cheeks and squishing them. “Yes.” You affirmed kissing his lips, “I think you deserve it for leaving me.” You gave his cheeks a light tap. “Now get to work or I’ll kick you out.”

Yoongi scoffed, placing your left foot on top of his knees. His fingers unbuckling the buckle around your ankle slowly, his eyes burning holes into your soul. You swallowed nervously as he slipped it off, his lips connecting with the skin of your ankle, kissing the tiny stick n poke tattoo he had given you after a particularly stressful week of finals, almost three years ago.

It was crooked. The points of the star weren’t as perfect as he would’ve liked them to be. But it had been entirely your fault. You kept moving, yelping out in dramatized agony every time he poked the needle into your skin, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. He knew you were just doing it to scare him. Your pain tolerance was higher than any normal human being, which is why he continued his masterpiece, ignoring your pleas to stop. Nevertheless, with a childish pout you had expressed your love for it in more ways than one and vowed to never cover it up no matter what.

You had kept true to your word.

“I didn’t mean to.” He sighed, kissing your inner thigh, then moving to the other one. He had long removed your other heel and was now showering you with all the kisses he hadn’t been able to give you in the last year and a half. “I didn’t want to break up with you.”

His hands traveled up the side of your legs, pushing your dress up further until the white lace of your panties were visible to his soft eyes. He bit his lip, taking in how much of an effect he still had on you. In all honesty, it made him feel on top of the world that your body was still so responsive to his touch.

“Why did you?” Your voice wavered and you blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Though, you had agreed with his decision to break things off. It had hurt more than you had intended it to hurt. You were left dazed and confused wondering how he could just wake up one day and decide that you weren’t enough for him anymore.

“You stopped chasing your dreams because of me.” The guilt he had felt every time he held you while you cried out in anger spilled out. The tears now fell down your eyes while he laid you down, taking your dress with him, bringing it over your head and throwing it to the side knocking over the glass of water you kept on your nightstand every night.

You jumped hitting his chest, “That dress was expensive.” You sniffed and wrapped your arms around his neck, “you’re the biggest idiot I know, I hate you.” You said, burying your head into his chest, mascara staining his pristine white dress shirt, while you unbuttoned it.

He knew you weren’t crying because of the dress, but this was also not what he meant when he wanted to have you crying tonight. You were right, he was an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, grabbing your head making you look at him. His own eyes were now filled with tears as he wiped away your own. “I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t happy.” He kissed your cheek then moved down to your neck, tonguing the spot underneath your ear that he knew would have you weak in your knees. “I-I wasn’t happy.” He confessed against your skin.

He had never once said it out loud and now that he had, while you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, undressing him further, he felt childish. “You could’ve just talked to me about it.” You sighed moving your hands down his chest, your manicured nails scraping his skin lightly. He shuddered, the coldness of your touch was something he had never been able to get used to. He had missed it.

“I know.” He licked down your neck, his fingers playing with your bottom lip, taping it lightly. “I didn’t know how to approach the situation.” His eyes all but rolled back as you took his fingers into your mouth, moaning around his digits. Your mouth was so hot and wet. He wanted to be inside of it, fucking it until you were sputtering and crying tears of pleasure, his precum mixing with your saliva. But he decided he could wait to fulfill his fantasy, right now he needed to show you much he still loved and cared about you.

Yoongi took his fingers out of your mouth, trailing his moist digits down your neck, painting a masterpiece until they wrapped around your nipples, pinching it, while his mouth kissed around your other nipple. The low sighs of pleasure you were making were astronomical. A beautiful melody he will never get tired of listening to.

“S-So you decided to break up with me, f-fuck.” You gasped when he lightly bit down on your nipple. It was euphoric, enough to have you reaching your orgasm. You were overly sensitive, overwhelmed with the fact that he was so close to you again.

“I thought we already agreed that I’m an idiot.” He joked and sat back on his knees, pushing your thighs apart with his hands. The only thing keeping you covered were your panties that were sticking onto you like a second skin and it was driving him insane.

“Let me keep reminding you then.” You smirked and sat up on your elbows, lifting your hips from the bed to meet his. “Break my heart again and I’ll cut off your dick, and this time I sincerely mean it my love.” He shuddered, your menacing words filled with possibilities and hope. Hope that after tonight you and him could start over again.

“Have I ever told you how much you actually scare me?” He tilted his head with curiosity, pushing your panties to the side. His mouth watering when he felt how truly wet you were for him. He wanted you in every single way possible. To drink you up like sweet honey dew juice. If he wasn’t so impatient he would’ve buried his face in between your legs, until you were cumming on his tongue.

“Once or twice.” You lifted your hips as he slid your panties down your legs. He threw them to the side giving your hip a light kiss. “Maybe more than three times.” You gasped as he pushed two of his fingers inside of you.

His eyes catching sight the other miniscule stick n poke tattoo he had given you after graduation. This time it was a beautiful cursive ‘y’ adorning the skin of your mound, the adrenaline along with the alcohol that was running through both of your veins that night, had numbed you out enough to have you lying still, giggling at his concentration instead of screaming out in pain.

He moved his fingers, his cock aching to be freed from it’s constraints. He was so painfully hard, aching to be buried inside of you. “I think I told you more than that.” He curled his fingers, hitting the mushy spot inside of you making you gasp.

“Yoongi, whatever, just please get inside of me before I kick you out.” You arched your back, lifting your hips as his fingers slowly teased you, opening you up for him. You hadn’t been fucked in such a long time. In fact, the last person you had sex with you was the one teasing you right now.

He huffed rolling his eyes and took out his fingers. “Stop threatening me like that.” He said, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, painting your lips with your arousal. “It hurts my feelings.”

“Then hurry up.” Your fingers reached over playing with the button of his pants, popping it open as you eyed him through lust filled hooded eyes, “We can play more another day, right now I need you inside of me before I die.” You pleaded. His eyes got wide, his mind ran faster than usual, making sure he had heard you right.

Another time, you had said. He had heard you right. His hearing wasn’t as bad as he claims it to be, especially when it came to you and anything that leaves your mouth. He nodded and helped you push his pants along with his boxers down his legs. He kicked them away. A low moan escaped his lips when he felt your delicate hand wrap around his hard cock. Your thumb running over his red tip, spreading around the precum.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked in a choked whisper as he tried his hardest not to cum in your hand.

You shook your head no, a pout forming on your lips, “I don’t, I thought you would have one.” You kissed his chest lightly as you kept moving your hand around him. “I’m still on the pill though.” You pulled away and looked up at him giving him a knowing wink.

He swallowed and pushed you softly, laying you down. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would ever happen again so I didn’t bring anything.”

Your hand around him fell to your side as he climbed over you slowly. “Tell me if it hurts okay, I’ll stop.” He reassured before aligning himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock over your pussy gathering your essence before pushing himself in.

“Y-Yoongi, oh my g-god, f-fuck.” You arched your back, digging your nails into the skin of his shoulders. You felt so deliciously good around him, your name falling out of his lips like a silent prayer.

He buried his face into your neck, planting open mouthed down your neck, biting down lightly when he felt you clench around him. “Can I keep going?” He mumbled. “I need to feel all of you.”

“Yes, please Yoongi please.” You gasped when you felt him bottoming out inside of you. The pleasure was mind numbing. Your pussy stretching over his cock after such a long time was otherworldly.

His hands found yours and he intertwined your fingers with his, placing your arms above your head as he started thrusting into you slowly. His eyes burning into yours, refusing to let your gaze go.

Nothing was heard, except for skin slapping against skin. His low grunts combining with your loud moans as he fucked into you faster. The sound of your wet pussy motivating him to continue his ministries. Neither of you were sure how much time had passed, the only thing that mattered was the desperate chase of your highs.

“Make me cum please.” You pleaded over and over again, as he pistoned his hips into you faster and harder. The knot forming against the pit of your stomach. You kept clenching around him and he knew you were close to the edge. He was too, he could feel the tightness of his balls as his thrusts became sloppy.

“B-Baby, I’m close.” He bit down on your neck as you arched your back, your nipples brushing against his lightly.

You dug your nails into his knuckles, raising your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. “Me too, I’m so close.” You gasped as he rolled his hips into yours. The change of rhythm had you screaming out in pleasure.

He let go of one of your hands, not wasting a second in finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast circles against it with his thumb, “Gonna cum around me my angel, gonna let me paint your walls white.” He panted, his sweaty bangs falling over his eyes. He looked like a greek God, Adonis himself.

“F-Fuck yes Yoongi, fuck I-I’m coming.” You choked out, the pressure at the pit of your stomach finally breaking. Your pussy fluttering around him, your orgasm taking over your body in pleasure filled spasms.

Yoongi pushes into you harder, his thumb working against your clit as you ride out your high beneath him. Seeing you so fucked out was enough to tether over the edge, in a silent moan, his own orgasm taking over his body, painting your walls with his sticky substance, filling you up to the brink. “G-God, I love you.” He said after he had somewhat composed himself.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your body. You didn’t want him to move yet, “I love you too Yoongi.” You whispered leaving innocent pecks against his jawline. He chuckled laying his head against your chest. You brushed his hair away from his face. Both of your chests heaving at the same time, as you tried to catch your breaths.

“Was that okay?” He spoke after a long moment of silence. He rested his chin against your chest looking at you through worrisome eyes. “You don’t hate me anymore right?”

“I never did.” You smiled, making his heart sore, “It was perfect, I missed you...a lot” You added kissing his nose.

“I missed you too, maybe a little too much if I’m being honest. I really am sorry angel.” He cuddled into you further, feeling himself grow soft inside of you. You felt his arousal along with yours slide down your legs and you had to hold back from begging him to take you again and again.

“I know just don’t do it again.”

“I’d be actually crazy if I did.”

#kdiarynet #kpopscape #bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi drabbles #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios

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haleigh-sloth · 2 years

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dabi does care and it's shown pretty clearly on panel too? like the entire incident with twice we're shown his own thoughts for the first time in ever and it's very understanding of twice’s mindset back there. In MVA immediately after he said he doesn't care about giran bringing him into the league, when they think an enemy is closing in he rushes from the back to the very front with his hand raised to attack like tsundere much? and in the war arc when nejire is about to attack a already bound duo of shigaraki and spinner he sends a wall of flames right to her? like if people are gonna twist small things to paint him like he's the LOV's adversary atleast take everything into consideration? like he's tunnel visioned because of how much his self expression had been hijacked by endvr the moment he was created and he's been separated from his family and probably people in general for a decade because of how extremely traumatizing the self immolation was and watching his father continue heroism like his son hadn't just died. people really see one person not adhering to the rules of their found family and they set out to demonize him further.

I agree with a lot of this but I also do think the fandom turned Dabi into this "uwu baby who cares so so much like a protective big brother" (because he's an actual big brother lol) and people just kinda forgot that......he's an asshole.

He is. But like, so is Shouto, straight up. But it doesn't mean he doesn't care. He's super emotional actually, especially when he's casually crying blood and thinking about his family. Yeah, emotionless, doesn't care at all about anything 🤙🏼 🤙🏼 🤙🏼. But no he's never been the type to outwardly show concern when things get...concerning. It took Twice's death for him to show actual signs of distress in front of another person. Again--the times crying about his family, nobody was there to see it.

Before you read further I also ranted a bit about this whole debacle here and here. Though I think this ask was actually in response to one or both of those posts lmao.

On ch. 335:

I think people are just mad that he doesn't have the same horrified expression on his face as Toga and Spinner, I guess completely forgetting who his character is. You know, the one hyper-focused on his father. Not just killing his father, but making a show of it, making sure his father's attention is on him as they're dying....together. Yeah, what's happening in front of him isn't pleasant, but tbh what is he supposed to do? What are Spinner and Toga doing? My issue is people thinking Dabi is just totally cool with going along with AFO's plans (don't get me started on AFO comparing the two of them), when in actuality, the entire LOV are taking cues from and are at the mercy of AFO now so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I also think Dabi's tunnel vision is an indication that his arc is going to be strictly about his family. I mean I always thought his arc would be about his family, but I think people expected a bit more inner exploration of him and his feelings toward the people around him (the LOV specifically). And don't miss me, I think we may get some of that. But imo the focus of Dabi's arc has always been the Todorokis, and I really don't expect that to change.

AND Dabi isn't the only one with tunnel vision either? Toga and Shigaraki have exhibited severe tunnel vision at their own moments also--and Shigaraki is literally doing that right now.

Toga: she left the LOV mid-war to go satisfy her own curiosity on what Ochacko thinks of villains, get her opinion on if they're even considered people in her eyes. Yeah, she promised to go back to them, but she still left for her own ambitions. Because she wanted a hero's words to either make or break her.

Shigaraki is lying there in front of the LOV screaming about All Might. Not even screaming about the fact that AFO took control over the LOV, took control over his mind and body, drug him out to that fight with S&S. Yeah--he was putting up a fight with AFO on the battle field. But that battle is over, and what's happening now? He's reverted back to how he was pre-Kamino, where he just attributed all of his pain to the existence of All Might. He's back to square one. Coming full circle, again with this Horikoshi lol (this entire arc since the war has brought back a lot of early BNHA stuff). Shigaraki may mention Twice and we may see him really talk to the LOV, but I'm doubtful of that tbh with what's happening. We'll see, both routes are possible.

But I mean, if Shigaraki and Toga can show tunnel vision for their own personal interests, why can't Dabi? The LOV trio have always all had their own personal vendettas against heroes. They don't have the same pain, trauma, feelings, not even the same goals really. Toga wants to live in a world that's....easy to live in. Shigaraki wants to destroy everything (save for what his comrades want), and Dabi straight up wants to die with his dad. No, they're not gonna be a big ball of togetherness right now. We're in the final stretch and it's getting time for the LOV trio's pain to start getting addressed individually, because that's what they each need.

#bnha #bnha asks #anonymous #boku no hero academia #bnha 335 #dabi bnha #todoroki touya #dabi #bnha lov #bnha league of villains

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lag1995-fics · 3 years

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Hii. Can I request anything with pre- cult Kai and fem reader with a reader that's really happy and bubbly? It could be a fic, headcanonns, literally anything lol. I love your writing 💙💙

Of course you can love, I hope you enjoy this ❤️

Crushing

Pairing: Pre Cult Kai/ bubbly reader

Words: 1506

Warnings: POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️⚠️⚠️ This will contain sexual harassment and assault it isn’t graphic but some may feel uncomfy, this fic also features heavy language

Summary: Kai and Reader have both had crushes on each other but have consistently brushed their feelings off they both felt the other was simply unattainable. A bad experience ends up bringing them together.

Masterlist

///::::///

You had always been a bubbly person, the type that usually had a grin spread across her face. You had the biggest crush on your friend Winter’s older brother. You were one hundred percent positive that you were not his type. He was sarcastic and a little mean at times, you were an absolute giggle box who always had a kind word and a smile for almost everyone.

What you didn’t know, was that you were not the only person with a crush. Kai had been mesmerized by the way you floated through life like you had a bubble to protect you from all the grubby thorns that were society. You never caught him but he would stare at you when you came to visit Winter. The entire family loved you actually and Kai’s father would often tease him about you when you were out of the room.

You never expected anything to come out of your silly little crush and neither did Kai for that matter. He had actually put you up on a bit of an unfounded pedestal in his own mind. You were too pure for anyone himself included. He didn’t want to see anyone crush your spirit it was something he loved about you.

Kai couldn’t control the world though, and the world was a dark miserable place that was full of dark miserable people. You were someone who was remarkable though, you seemed untouched by the dark miserable world in his mind. The darkness of the world affects everyone sometimes though and it did eventually catch up to you.

***

You had been walking home from work in the rain, face tilted to sky as the soft drops of water tickled your skin. You hadn’t noticed the strange customer who had been watching you at the coffee shop where you worked. You also hadn’t noticed him follow you out of the shop too busy watching your bright yellow converse splash happily in the puddles on the grubby side walk.

It hadn’t taken him long to act when you had turned onto a fairly deserted road. He had caught up to you and began to walk in step with you. Red flags went up immediately in your head but you as always held out hope that maybe this person was just being friendly.

“Hey baby girl,” his tone was slippery and disgusting. You couldn’t help the trill of fear that went down your spine.

“Hey, please don’t call me that,” you muttered, probably more politely than you should have.

“Oh so you’re a frigid bitch that can’t take a fuckin compliment!” His tone had shifted from slick to intimidating in the span of a few seconds. This man was everything your mother had taught you to fear. You also wished you had started carrying personal protection like Winter had suggested, weapons made you uncomfy though.

“Excuse me I need to get home people are waiting for me” you babbled picking up your pace to try and put distance between himself and you. Before you got very far his large hand reached out wrapping around your forearm with a bruising tightness. You yelped, reaching into your pocket with your free hand to hit your emergency dial.

“I wasn’t done talkin to you bitch don’t think I didn’t notice you ignoring me at the stupid little coffee shop” your fear level was almost maxed out now and you could faintly hear Winter screaming in your pocket from where you had emergency dialed her.

“Please I don’t want any trouble, I haven’t done anything to you,” you tried to reason with the mad man. Before the man could utter another word a car screeched to a halt in the middle of the street.

Kai had been driving down the road on his way back home when he saw a familiar polka dot rain jacket being assaulted by some grubby asshole. He had slammed on his breaks and jerked his old beater of a car into park. He flew out of the car dashing to your side.

“Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Of. Her.” He hissed as he stepped between you and your assailant. The man released her arm like it shocked him as Kai glared at him with angry brown eyes.

“Sorry man, I didn’t know she had a fuckin boyfriend she should have said something,” the man backpeddaled.

“It shouldn’t matter if a person has a boyfriend or not! No means no asshole!” You shouted the fear draining from you being rapidly replaced by righteous anger.

“If I ever see you again I’ll be the last person you’ll ever see fuck face” Kai spat angling himself rven further infront of you as the man ran off.

As soon as the man was gone Kai spun so that he was facing you. His eyes ran down your body looking for any possible injuries. Water dropped from his wild brown curls as he checked you over. He was careful not to touch you but you weren’t having any of that, you launched yourself into his arms your own wrapping around his surprisingly muscled middle.

“Thank you, you saved my ass,” you mumbled into his soaked t-shirt, happy that the rain was hiding your tear stained cheeks.

“You scared me to death, let’s get you home,” he brushed off your thank you. Like he could let someone try to hurt the only good thing in his world. He guided you to his car that was still parked in the middle of the road with the engine running.

Once you weee safely inside and he was driving again he turned to you. You couldn’t help the heat that filled your cheeks at his pointed gaze. You had never been alone like this with Kai before and it was frankly overwhelming.

“Why were you walking home, I know you have a car?” Kai asked his tone still full of worry. He would personally pay to have your car fixed if it was out of commission.

“I always walk when it’s raining, rain is my favorite” you blushed at how childish it sounded coming from your mouth. He let out an exasperated chuckle.

“Of course you do! Your a living breathing chick flick!” His tone was exasperated but lighthearted in a way.

“Hey! I resent that!” You shot out indignantly, “if I were a living breathing chick flick I would get the guy.”

Kai couldn’t help but look at you like you were dumb his brown eyes scanning your face to make sure you weren’t pulling his leg.

“Y/n you could literally get any dude you wanted, you’re freaking adorable” He sounded stunned that you would think such a thing. You rolled your eyes you didn’t need your best friend’s older brother blowing smoke up your rear.

“Adorable girls don’t get the guy Kai-Kai, hot girls get the guy” you rolled your eyes elbowing him gently. You didn’t know it but you were the only person in the world allowed to call him Kai-Kai. He pulled into your driveway still looking at you like you had grown three heads.

“You’re not serious y/n” Kai asked incredulously running a hand through his wet brown curls.

“Kai-Kai you don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m your sisters best friend” you rolled your eyes, moving to get out of Kai’s car.

“Give me your pinky” his voice sounded strange. Still you flashed him a goofy smile holding out a painted pinky. He linked his pinky with your own his was much larger and warmer.

“You know how a pinky swear works right?” He asked and you nodded still confused on where he was going with this.

“Yeah you can’t break a pinky swear” you replied.

“Well I pinky promise to tell you the brutally honest truth no sugar coating” he declared.

“Okay” you replied still a bit confused.

“Y/n I have wanted you from the moment you opened your mouth and that perfect giggle floated out. You ate everything I’m not. You’re a happy go lucky girl and I’m just some internet troll that enjoys getting a rise outta people,

“You’re way to good for me and I would never even bother to think that you would ever be interested in me. But you gotta stop this self deprecating bullshit. You are the most beautiful human I know inside and out” he ranted and you could only stare at him in shock, floored by his revelation.

“You like me?” You questioned your voice soft and squeaky.

“Hell yeah! How could anyone not like you y/n?” He too sounded surprised.

You unlatched your pinkies trying not to overthink what you were going to do next. You stared into Kai’s piercing brown eyes gathering your non existent courage. You leaned forward pushing forward with your hands on his console. Your lips connected in a searing kiss his lips scorched your own as he kissed you back with a fierceness, his hand burying itself in the back of your hair.

Sorry this took so long I was exhausted and time got away from me ❤️❤️❤️. Much love and thanks for reading.

#pre cult Kai #evan peters #kai x reader #kai anderson x reader #protective Kai Anderson #kai #kai anderson #kai x reade #kai angst #pre-cult Kai Anderson #reader insert #ahs fanfiction #ahs cult

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umbreix · 2 years

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Oh? Whose Ahi?

AHI MY BELOVED

Okay, Ahi is my member of @werewolfcave's group of OCs (along with @gayaruakise's Ramriel and @luna-mistrunner's Moss). As Cath explained in their post on Ramriel the group revolves around Miriam to the point that we call them the Murder Squad.

Ahi is a fire themed magical girl with a predilection for Arson and a determined drive that pushes her to fight Witches head on with her claws. Her initial goal is to find the girl she loves, her Beloved, who she was separated from in the past but after encountering the Murder Squad things start to change. She grows fond of them all, considering Moss family and developing varying feelings for both Miriam and Ram. She's incredibly caring with a love of cooking, guitar and especially any and all things related to fire. She's always seeking her next adrenaline rush: Whether it be a Witch, dealing with other magical girls, or helping Miriam with a target (or simply helping her hone her skills).

Picrew Credit: https://picrew.me/image_maker/582810

I absolutely adore her! And as such this ended up REALLY being a long post so I'll put her backstory under a read-more! I didn't even actually get to her meeting the rest of the Murder Squad, lol.

Ahi.

(warnings for transphobia, parental abuse, smoking and burnout due to the school system)

Ahi grew up under very controlling and abusive parents, especially her father who was the town's mayor. So as the years went by she felt more and more disconnected from her self and her heritage (her mother is Māori while her father is white) unable to relate to her peers for a multitude of reasons. Not least of which is the fact that Ahi is a closeted trans woman forced to attend catholic school and slowly buckling under the stress of having to meet so many unattainable goals set by everyone around her.

As a kid she managed to make one friend though, a girl named Harper. Over the time they knew each other they both became inseparable and Ahi starts being allowed to invite Harper to her house. Or at least, until Harper helps Ahi realise she's a girl and Ahi's parents catch her wearing a borrowed dress. She doesn't get to see her much after that, even less so when Harper's family move away.

The years passed, Ahi stretching herself thinner and thinner in an attempt to be her family's perfect son. She took on more and more projects, tutors people in need, she even gets a position on her high school's student council. And then she sees Harper again.

Her childhood friend is different now: her hair is shaved into an undercut and dyed pink, she has a lot of piercings and tattoos that she sport's proudly with her ripped jeans and letterman jacket. But the way she smiles, the way she reaches to take her hand, the way she sits Ahi down and asks how she's feeling... It's undoubtedly Harper. And if she hadn't had a puppy crush on Harper before, she's most definitely smitten seeing her new look.

Harper talks about her life now, how she's left home and become an artist. How she's made friends and one of them (Nia) is going to be performing in a festival the town is having later that month. She knows it's dangerous to sneak back in to see her, that Ahi's parents would be outraged, but she couldn't help but see the girl with eyes so full of longing again. Harper asks how Ahi has been and she's so close to breaking, to bursting into tears and telling her how terribly life has been. But she can't, not yet. So she smiles and tells her it's better now that she's here.

That month is one of the happiest Ahi has had in her entire life. Constantly sneaking around with her best friend in the world, getting to know more about the person that Harper has become... and the person Ahi has never been able to let herself be.

On the last day they sit together on a hill, Harper taking a drag from a cigarette as they both watch the setting sun. It's in those glowing embers of the sky, in the glowing embers between Harper's fingers, that Ahi finds love. The smoke that curls from her lips seems to wrap around Ahi's heart. When she offers out the cigarette, Ahi leans in, but doesn't take it. Her lips brushing against Harper's fingers as she breathes in, truly herself for the first time.

Her parents find out, because of course they do, and once more Harper is run out of town. Ahi wants to run, to go with her... but she can't. Not yet. She still has hope. She still thinks she just needs to work a little harder and then she will be worthy of all the love that fills her entire being.

It takes one year for the cracks in her heart to shatter.

But before it all goes up in flames, Ahi gets one more moment, one true moment. A family emergency leads to a visit back home. And it's then, standing on a marae with cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents and family friends around her, that the timer in her heart is set. She can be loved. She can be accepted. She can have a home.

Her grandfather placed the carved stone around her neck before she left. Pounamu, he called it, something to be gifted and to keep her safe. Hei matau, the design of a fish-hook, that promised to always represent good luck and safe travel across the water back to her home.

For the first time in her life Ahi felt that family could be a thing of strength and safety. And though she heads back to her life and it's burdens, there is a tiny light that will grow into an inferno in her.

School was the straw that broke the camel's back in the end. She had already been spending every moment of her free time frantically studying to keep up with the class, to be the smart girl that her parents insist that she is, but it was one particular project that pushed her to a breaking point. She doesn't even really remember what it was about all these years later, when at the time it seemed like the biggest thing in her entire world.

The due date was a week away when she asked her father to look over this draft, one of many she had been revising and perfecting. But when he dismissively glanced over it and stated that she should start over, that it wasn't up to the usual Ryan family standard... She forgot how to breathe.

Frantically she asked her mother, she asked her teachers, she asked anyone she felt she could trust. And each and everyone one could only point out the flaws. Flaws, that was all she had. That was all she had spent the year working on. All she had spent her LIFE working on. All that she was. Ahi was nothing but failure and disgrace buried beneath a cracked mask that she couldn't paper over anymore. She'd failed.

It's a strange thing to watch the time count down until your life is ruined. That was all Ahi could think, tinged with bitterness that echoed through the hollowness that consumed her, as she sat on a park bench. Across from her was an old clock, vines creeping along it and rust eating away at it's base. She'd asked her mother once why nobody cared for it and she had told her that some things were best left to rot.

Ahi had been rotting for longer than she could remember.

The clock struck 12.

She let the papers fall from her hand, scattering across the ground.

Her eyes closed.

The due date had passed.

Her life was ruined.

"You seem to be quite distressed."

The creature's tail curled like the smoke that haunted Ahi's dreams, it's eyes glowing the red that she saw when she closed her eyes, and it's words worming through the cracks in her heart.

A wish, it offered, a contract to be made. To fight creatures born of curses in exchange for a miracle.

Ahi laughed, the sound deep and choked as tears rolled down her cheeks. It wanted a miracle? She'd give it a miracle.

Fire had been a part of her life, a part of her self, since she took her first breath. Her first memory is of a candle being lit on her birthday. She watches the logs crackle and pop in their family cabin's fireplace every winter vacation. She is besotted by the trace of flame from her beloved's lips. All that she has held close to her heart has been fire all along and as her entire being is alight with the burning pain of an alien tearing out her soul, Ahi makes her wish.

"I wish to be the spark that sets this town ablaze."

Did you hear? Did someone tell you? He's the talk of the town! He's all anyone can talk about!

The mayor's kid? He ran away!

I heard he burned down the school.

No that was an accident, bad wiring or something, right?

Must have been, but then why did he disappear?

My mom says he had a fight with the principal-

Well MY mom says he had a fight with the mayor himself!

I heard it was a priest-

I swear I saw him in the flames! He was just walking through them like it was nothing!

No you idiot that was a girl!

Why would there be a girl in the fire?!

ahi

1. (noun) fire - according to most creation narratives, Māui obtained fire from Mahuika. The power of fire was recognised and sacred fires were associated with the tohunga and the tapu of the tūāhu and with rituals.

The story spreads throughout the town as Ahi, now finally Ahi, watches the smouldering wreck of her terrible school from atop a hill on the town's outskirts. There is more to her story, events that lead from that park and into the inferno, but that isn't truly important. Not anymore. She reaches into her shirt and pulls out the greenstone around her neck. A sign that will always lead her home, if only she can find it.

Maybe some day, if she makes a pyre big enough, she can find Harper again. She can apologise for not being ready to come with her then. But that's for the future. For now she tucks the pounamu away and turns her back on the hell she's lived her entire life in.

She has a life to forge, and she'll be the fire to do it.

#miriam magica #ahi ryan #I didn't even get to write about the rest of the murder squad #i'll make another post later specifically about their dynamics with her #also if you're interested in them go ask Paci about Miriam!!!!#my writing #my ocs

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celestialrry · 3 years

Text

call me baby

psa: this might have a part 2 if anyone wants it, ik its a shitty ending lol but I wouldn’t know what to write after this. also I have another angst piece in the works but its literally taking so long to write 😖

1.8k

summary: Being hopelessly in love with your friend isn’t ideal, especially when Harry doesn’t even seem to see you as more than a therapist.

warnings: angst, pining, cursing

You looked over at your phone, now vibrating against your bedside table, lit up with his contact photo, a picture of him sticking his tongue out. “Hi.” You picked it up, wrapping your free arm around your torso, sitting up a bit straighter out of instinct even though he couldn't see you.

“Hey, love. Can I get some advice?” He asked through the phone, his voice a bit gravely and deep as always. You silently sighed, biting your lip in hesitation. Everytime you’d get a call from him, he would either rant about his current partner, get advice about them, or just want you to be there when he needed someone to talk to.

Of course you would always be there for him, regardless of time, space, and anyone he gave his heart to. He was Harry Styles for god's sake, your friend since forever, the man who treated everyone like they were the best thing in his life, most of the time at least. He lit up any room he was in and when you’d see him it would always be fulfilling, even if the two of you sat in silence in a room of just four walls.

“Of course, what’s up?” You asked after a brief moment of silence. It was currently 4 in the morning in your single room flat in London and you didn’t think Harry knew that, but you weren't going to tell him.

“It’s just, Ana’s has been so clingy lately and we’ve only been together officially for 3 weeks. It’s making me want to end things.” Harry admitted into the phone. You almost rolled your eyes at his words. Not once has he called you to ask about you in months, but that's just how things were. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else.

“If you aren’t happy with her, end it,” You spoke up after a while, unsure if you were giving him the advice because you were desperate to be with him or it was genuinely what he should do. “There’s no point in being with her if you’re considering ending it over her being clingy.”

You heard him sigh into the phone before speaking up. “Yeah, we’ll see, thanks,” He said your name. You smiled a bit at that. It was crazy how he could make you feel so special by just the tone of his voice, absurd, really,

“ ‘Course. So-” Before you could say anything else you heard the beep of the phone being hung up. You took a deep breath, trying to think of how Harry and you were before everything changed.

2 years ago

“I can’t believe you’re officially moving to L.A.” You said as you stood in his bedroom doorway, watching him pack up his last few clothes.

“Me neither.” He simply said.

Before you could stop it, you felt a salty tear roll down you cheek. As you wiped it away, he turned around, his face dropping all previous joy, concern flooding his features.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He used the nickname he gave you 11 years ago when we were 10. It was crazy how the two of you had known each other so long, and now you were both 21, and he would be living in the city of angels.

“Just gonna miss seeing you as often as I usually do is all.” You laughed, the tears flowing more freely now. One Direction had just gone on hiatus and after spending some time at home, Harry decided to switch it up a bit. You didn’t understand why he couldn’t just switch it up by not wearing skinny jeans everyday, but it seemed he wanted something bigger than that.

He pouted and walked over to you, giving me a hug before mumbling in your ear, “I’ll call you everyday. Promise.”

Promises were made to be broken, it seemed. He only calls you when he needs a hand, and only answers if he’s alone. You wish you found it more frustrating than painful, maybe that way it would be easier to move on, but you have yet to do so. You’ve asked yourself why you were still silently pining over him, with no answer in sight.

The last time you saw Harry in person was almost a year ago, when he came back to visit his family. Up until that trip he called you everyday, or close too, wanting to know about you day or he just “wanted to hear your voice”. Then when we were together it was like no time had passed while he was away.

1 year ago

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, lightly punching his bicep.

He just laughed in return, rubbing his arm acting like you had actually hurt him.

“I feel like you just got back and now you’re leaving again,” you said after a bit, knowing he was leaving the next morning. “Plus,” you added, gently playing with his hair. “I’m gonna miss your hair, it’s so fun to braid.”

He looked over at you as your hand fell to rest on his shoulder, running your fingers through his curls. “I know, but I’ll come back soon. I’ll try not to cut my hair for you, don’t worry.” He smiled at you, leaning over and pulling you into a hug.

You just returned his grin and hug, and stuck your fingers through the ringlets, having way too much fun with his hair. You noticed he was looking at you the entire time you were messing with his hair, but you convinced yourself it was because he had nowhere else to look.

Eventually, you were so close to him you could see freckles you never had before. Your breath hitched, not knowing if you should backup or not, your hand still resting on his shoulder in his curls. Then all of a sudden he was far away again, and it was like nothing had ever happened.

Your heart ached with the love you had for Harry, and it seemed nothing could cure it except him and when you woke up the next morning and instinctively checked your phone, you frowned as you noticed no notifications from the one person you truly wanted to hear from.

You weren’t sure when your hurt extended from the pain of practically losing a friend to the pain of not being able to be with someone you love. You weren’t sure when you started seeing his lips as kissable and not something to put lipstick on for fun. You weren’t sure when you started looking at his hands as something to hold and not as a blocker for your playful punches.

You weren’t sure when you started stealing glances more than you usually did or avoiding eye contact because it made you nervous. You weren’t sure when your stomach was no longer empty and then filled with butterflies. You weren’t sure when he stopped calling just to talk, or when he stopped picking up. All you were sure of was that you were hopelessly in love with someone who could never feel the same.

✧˖*°࿐

He called a few more times about the same girl, Ana. You had spoken to your friend about it, and you were slowly getting over him. Each time you were getting cut off and hung up on, and it took a really long time for you to know you deserved better. He hadn’t called you since he attempted once and you didn’t answer. It went on for a few months, he would call you almost everyday, alongside texts like “Hello?”, “Pick up, please?”, and the text that came last before you blocked him, “Are you okay?”. He didn’t deserve to know, and sure maybe you shouldn’t have just cut off all contact, but there was no other way to get over him.

A month after you blocked him, and you were no longer sulking when you checked your phone and no longer crying to sleep. You were becoming happy thanks to your self control, and finally learning that just because Harry didn’t love you, didn;t mean you shouldn’t love yourself.

You were sitting on your couch when there was a knock at your door. You looked up from the book in your lapa and stood up, scurrying to the door, not wanting the person at the other side to be waiting.

You swung it open, met with the last face you expected to see. He looked concerned almost, and almost immediately you were wrapping in his arms, after over a year he was holding you once more. Except this time you didn’t want it. You pushed him off of you and stepped back. “What are you doing here Harry?” You asked, a scowl on your face.

“I-y’wouldn’t answer me and then nothing went through, god, I was so worried, love-”

“No,” You shook your head. “Don’t call me that, you can’t just come here after being an asshole to me for over a year. You are not allowed to be worried about me, not when you haven’t bothered to ask how I am after all this time.”

His mouth dropped open in shock, you were always so calm, you never had yelled at him before. “I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” You pursed your lips.

“Just let me explain,” He said, hesitating like he was trying to find an answer to this, but you knew whatever he told you, nothing would change. “I-when we saw each other last, we almost kissed, or at least I almost kissed you, I love you, I was so scared that y’wouldn’t feel the same, and I guess I got caught up in trying to make you jealous. Please, m’so sorry.”

He took a step towards you and you took two steps back. There was no way he felt the same as you did- you had. And even if he did, you always knew he was shit at handling feelings, but there was no excuse.

“No, you can’t do that, say that. I don’t care if you mean it or not,” You began, tearing up. “That-thats’s so fucking terrible to do to someone, especially if you love them. I’m tired Harry, I’m done with you, I’ve been done with you for months.”

“What?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe you.

“Please leave.”

Your heart broke at your own words, but you couldn’t forgive him. Not now, and maybe not ever.

“Please I-”

“I said leave, Harry.”

You could see his watery eyes as he opened his mouth to protest once more, but then closed it. There was nothing he could say. Not anymore. He was always leaving, but this time, for the first time, you wanted him to.

#call me baby #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles

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cupcakey00 · 3 years

Text

It’s Just Instinct

Here’s to my first one-shot, everyone! (edit: it’s actually not a one-shot since there will be another part or 2 lol oops) In which Cassian struggles to adjust to the overwhelming instincts to protect Nesta.

Words: 2,325

there is some NSFW content in this.

Nesta could count on both hands the number of times she had to intervene to stop a murder where Cassian was involved, especially since they’d mated just one month prior. The first time had been only two days into their mating frenzy. Lord Devlon may have been many things, but a fool was not one of them.

Or so he thought.

Unbeknownst to the pair, the camp lord in doing his rounds managed to hear the throes of their passion, and made the decision to send a young female to deliver war reports to Cassian as opposed to their usual male. Unbeknownst to Devlon, Cassian had recently discovered Nesta’s attraction males and females. Suffice to say, it was only Nesta’s iron grip on his bicep and pushing on his chest while screaming for the Illyrian to “leave! You have to go!” that stopped him from tearing the poor young female to shreds at just the scent of her outside their door as she slid reports through the gap. After all, their Commander was busy, but so were their enemies.

Unsurprisingly, Devlon was unimpressed.

The second time came when Azriel had visited during the third day of their mating, unannounced, hoping to visit his friend and discuss the Illyrian rebels. Unfortunately for Azriel, his personal vow never to spy on his family finally became his crux. At the sound of Azriel’s feet touching ground from outside the cabin door, Cassian’s eyes dilated, his muscles tensed, and his breath hitched. Nesta knew what was coming next, although this time, she couldn’t stop it. Not when Cassian was still strung up from the female’s visit the prior day, and most certainly not when he was interrupted with his head between Nesta’s legs.

Azriel realized immediately his mistake the moment he landed, but he knew he could not simply leave. He knew that would only make it worse. Worst case scenario, Cassian would pursue him for days during his frenzy if he deemed Azriel enough of a threat, so long as the threat of being away from Nesta for long didn’t outweigh the perceived threat to Nesta; he had seen the look in his eyes long before Nesta and Cassian were mated. He saw the thirst for blood at any male – and, recently, female – who so much as looked at Nesta a few moments too long. Whether it was in protection or possession, Azriel didn’t know. He didn’t think Cassian did either. Granted, he always kept a leash on himself for Nesta’s sake and his own. It wasn’t fair to Nesta to be treated like an object, especially not one that he owned. That, Cassian knew. Thus, Azriel stayed. He waited, deciding that staying silent, allowing for Cassian to make the first move, would allow for his brother to calm down, register him not as a threat, but as a friend who meant no harm nor claim to his mate.

Surprisingly, Azriel, too, was a fool.

In Cassian’s cloudy, newly mated mind, the Night Court’s spy and Shadowsinger’s silence and stillness confirmed one thing and one thing alone: he was there to lust over the sound of his Nesta crying out in ecstasy, a hymn promised to Cassian and Cassian alone. Nesta had just reached the point of unintelligibility, unable to articulate a single word or thought with Cassian’s mouth feasting on her dripping center after teasing the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs with his tongue and breath for what had to have been hours, bringing Nesta to near tears, begging Cassian for more, begging him to let her come. For a cruel amount of time, Cassian would not relent, tracing and blowing; sucking oh so near it, never on it, telling her about how “you’re so pretty when you’re begging me to let you come, Sweetheart. You’re going to have to wait for that.” He was never merciful enough to tell her how long she had to wait. (The only reason he had the self-control to delay it was because of how thoroughly he fucked her the previous two days.)

Nesta had been close, no longer able to make a single sound except for gasps and high-pitched whimpers with her back arched off their dining room table, one hand gripping Cassian’s dark hair at the root as his hands kept her legs spread wide open, forcing her hips down, forbidding her from grinding on his face, while her other hand gripped the tablecloth. With her back arched, he couldn’t see her face, so he watched Nesta’s pert nipples instead, still red and raw from his previous ministrations, lips around one nipple sucking, tongue flicking, teeth biting, while his fingers twisted and tugged at the other, alternating whenever he felt like it. The red was mostly faded.

He’d have to fix that.

Cassian knew that while the denial for release was torture for Nesta for the time being, her orgasm by the end couldn’t possibly be anything short of mind-shattering. He sent a prayer to whatever gods were listening that he’d be able to feel her walls clench around his tongue fucking her, nose rubbing against her clit. He could only hope she wouldn’t squeeze so tight around him that his tongue was forced out of her pretty pink hole while her walls contracted; he couldn’t let any of her sacred nectar go to waste on their dining room table.

He’d lick it up right off the wood, maintaining eye contact with Nesta if he had to.

The other part of him, the more primal, male part of him, craved the satisfaction of making his mate come so devastatingly he wouldn’t be able to keep his tongue inside, tip of his tongue massaging her G-spot through her release. He hadn’t dared come close to it yet; he knew that’d put an end to their fun. Everyone knew the journey was more important than the destination.

Truly, considering this was the trajectory they were on, it was no wonder Cassian would have brutalized Azriel’s body so badly, Rhysand would have had to rethink who assumed the role of the Night Court’s torturer.

Would have, had Azriel not been forced to use a Siphon-imposed shield around himself, infuriating Cassian even further. Not only had this male heard his lover’s euphoric cries, but he couldn’t even kill him for it, and it was his fault Nesta wasn’t only dripping onto the table instead of his face, she was also needy with the desire to reach the orgasm she had earned. This male thought he could arrive at their doorstep and put a halt to his lover’s pleasure? Unforgiveable.

Azriel wasn’t safe until Rhysand, who then also became the subject of Cassian’s hunt (the third in 24 hours), used his magic to force Cassian back into the cabin and established a shield around it, confining him while allowing Azriel’s shadows to bring him back to Velaris with Nesta screaming for Cassian the entire time – never once leaving the inside; Cassian’s brothers seeing Nesta in such a near-orgasmic state, even if she did put clothes on first, was a sure-fire way for him to level all of Illyria to eliminate them both. This, Nesta knew.

Through their open bond, he could feel what Nesta felt. Had she been in danger, Cassian wouldn’t have been able to ignore her pleas even if he wanted to. Hell, had Cassian been able to think a tad more clearly, he’d have strapped on his Siphons to put more concentrated pressure against Rhysand’s barrier. But alas, there he was, stark-naked body limning with unbridled power, using his magic until it was drained, not a Siphon in sight, snarling near animalistically.

After that ordeal, the message became clear: no one was to come in contact with the Commander or his mate until they left their cabin unless of an emergency. Rhysand imposed a no-go zone of a half-mile radius around their cabin to be kept at all times until indicated otherwise by the Commander himself. It took two weeks until the pair could leave the cabin without fear of murder, although that didn’t stop an incident from popping up almost every day since, especially since Cassian was convinced most of the camp either wanted to kill Nesta or fuck her. Still, Cassian tried. He tried to rein it in, and Nesta could see that. She knew he took no joy in threatening the lives of his fellow Illyrians, no matter how much they hated him. He had to learn to control himself, and learning he was. However, everyone knows that when learning, mistakes are bound to be made.

That was what brought them here, a crowd of wide-eyed Illyrians with bated breath, gazing at the four in fear: Cassian, Nesta, and a young male who’d been training with an older Illyrian.

Nesta placed a hand firmly on his chest, assuring, “Cass, I’m okay,” as Cassian’s eyes and stance guaranteed violence, twin blades in either hand. His eyes held nearly none of their characteristically striking hazel, instead swallowed by the black abyss of a predator salivating for a hunt. The scent of the blood trickling from the cut on her upper arm was suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe, his body wouldn’t let him. Not when he was so close to his prize: the young male’s blood bathing his blades. Breathing would only alert his prey to his presence, chancing he’d run.

Then again, Cassian wanted a chase.

Still, Cassian would not move. Instincts begged him kill, maul, maim, but his less animalistic side implored him to drop his weapons and help his mate, to be rational and think clearly.

Still, Cassian could not move. Could not attack the enemy for fear of leaving Nesta unattended, nor drop his weapons for fear of leaving her vulnerable to another attack, never mind that he could wipe out every male, female, and child in the camp with his bare hands if he desired.

Nesta, sensing his inner conflict, whispered sweetly to Cassian, “Cassian, Love, I’m safe. I’m healthy, I am happy. I’m okay. You don’t need to do this, you know this.” Facing him, her right hand gripped his shoulder, her left, resting on his abdomen, applying pressure to his body knew she could not remove if she wanted the boy to live. Still, it wasn’t enough for him to break eye contact with the young Illyrian. Slowly, she slid her hand from his abdomen up to his heart, feeling the melodic thump, thump, thump that always grounded her, whether she was facing a nightmare or the much more nefarious demons of her conscious mind.

Still gripping his shoulder, she removed her hand from his chest and pressed her body against his, reaching down in search of his fingers. Immediately his grip softened from his weapon, seeking the warmth and comfort of Nesta’s embrace above all else. Gripping his hand gently, she took a step back. At this, Cassian’s eyes snapped down in alarm until she placed his hand over her beating heart, hand atop his, unblinking as she watched the bloodlust drain from his gaze as he peered into her own, his eyes a telescope gazing upon the stars within the vast edges of the universe people deigned to refer to simply as Nesta’s eyes. Cassian knew he could spend the rest of his immortal life studying them and still he’d have more to learn. Nesta would let him.

In his heart, Cassian knew she could take care of herself, that it was an honest accident. The boy was still learning how to hold a sword, it wasn’t his fault he had it parried out of his grip, especially when it was Nesta who hadn’t realized she wasn’t the compulsory 15 meters away from the fighting pair; she’d been busy running back and forth bringing ice to the healers. Truly, if fault had to be blamed, Nesta laid claim to most of it.

Not that it mattered to Cassian, of course.

In his eyes were terror, veiled thinly only by the stubborn rage. In them, she discerned all his fears…his regrets that he couldn’t save Nesta from the Cauldron. She saw the same look in his eyes he had when they almost died together during the war, and finally she understood. She understood why he’d been so protective. That not only did he struggle with believing he wasn’t enough for his people, but for his own mate too. For the love of his life, his whole world. For his sole reason for living for the past 500 years, the present, and the eternal future. Her gaze was piercing, imploring, begging him to forgive himself, begging him to have mercy on himself, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not yet had he proven himself worthy of his mate, nor might he ever.

At this, Nesta was the one to feel fear. Not at Cassian, but for him; a life of regrets and guilt is not a life at all, especially for an immortal.

From his shoulder she removed her remaining hand, gently grasping his own, the second twin blade dropping into the mud, and placed his large palm over her cheek, using it to cradle her face. She smiled sadly, tears threatening to spill over as she nestled her cheek into his palm, feeling the rough callouses she wished she could engrave onto her soul so that she’d never be without them.

Those tears? Cassian hated them. Each one that threatened to fall was yet another one of his failures, an indication of Nesta’s pain. Pain that he caused in his own inadequacy. He could never forgive himself.

This wasn’t a conversation they could have in front of a crowd, so she whispered, just barely audible, “take me home,” and instantly, he pulled her body flush against his and flew to the cottage that became the both of theirs, everyone else be damned.

One day, Cassian will learn. Just not today.

________________

There will be a part 2, maybe a part 3!! I hope you enjoyed :)

tag: @arinbelle

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #acotar

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kiricanon · 3 years

Text

This analysis goes out to my three followers. You know who you are ✨

Warning: spoilers obviously.

Anyway, I was just lying in bed trying to sleep, when I began thinking about Hannibal and Will’s intimate interactions. Mostly, their little hugs. You may have noticed that Hannibal does a thing where he puts his hand on the back of Will’s neck and/or his upper back. Exhibit a:

One thing to note is that a majority of the time, Hannibal doesn’t initiate this sort of thing. He did this time though, in one way or another. The way it started was him putting his hand on Will’s cheek. This distracted Will enough that Hannibal could stab him. Once he stabbed Will, Will fell into him and dropped his gun, Hannibal then embraced him in a hug. Hannibal shows how much he cares in actions much more than words. He could never outright say he loves Will to his face, save for elaborate metaphors (can’t think of an example lol but I know I had one in mind when I originally wrote this), comparisons (where he compared his and Will’s story to that of Achilles and Patroclus) and public declarations of love (like the heart in Florence or the judge after the trial). He says he loves him by the way he touches him, and I feel that in this way he can’t control himself.

I believe Hannibal has never felt any real connection to a sexual/romantic partner, friend, family member etc. This makes it very easy to tell when he’s doing something romantic, comforting or loving, because he simply can’t help it or if he’s using it as a weapon.

Here’s an example of him using tender touches to Will as a weapon:

Here he puts his hand on Will to establish trust. I trust you with the information that Abigail killed Nicholas Boyle and I trust you to keep it a secret that I helped her dispose of his body.

He also weaponises his charm in the form of manipulation as he does this. He tells Will that they are her fathers now and they must do better than Garrett Jacob Hobbs, and that means protecting her from doing jail time which was made impossibly worse by the fact that they hid the body and told no one what they did. If Will took more than a second to think about why he would hide this before falling into Hannibal’s beautiful lies, he’d realise that fatherly instinct be damned, any normal person would have told the feds (assuming Hannibal was telling the truth that Nick attacked them-he isn’t though) that it was self defence and his (Nick’s) intention was to kill them. Instead he manages to convince both Will and Abigail that no one would believe her (even with Hannibal as a whiteness) that it was self defence and she would be put away. I believe he tells Will that he’d be “murdering Abigail’s future,” if he turned this in, which is a very manipulative way of driving home his point. But “ruining Abigail’s future” was too chill for him I guess.

Next we have when Will was shot:

The way Hannibal touches him was so unnecessary. Hannibal doesn’t initiate romantic contact, but when it happens with Will, he can’t help himself but to lean into it, to embrace it and enjoy the moment. Hannibal doesn’t like touching people enough to initiate physical contact, but the second it’s happening, he leans into it completely and loses himself to the feeling for a short amount of time. He likes how it feels.

Hannibal has two modes when it comes to caring contact, 1. Manipulation, 2. Desperation.

When Hannibal leans into these feelings with Will that he usually neglects and buries, it’s always pure, raw and honest. And he can’t help the honesty.

I honestly believe that Hannibal has never felt any real love or compassion for any other human being in his life, so now that he has Will and he feels these feelings for Will that he’s never had the opportunity to feel before, he can’t let Will go. Any touch he gets he savours, and he does so without thinking and he does so without control.

Imagine never feeling like you’ve ever loved anyone or cared for anyone before, and suddenly someone makes you feel not only that, but makes you feel comfortable. Suddenly you have somebody that makes you feel like you want to be close to them. Hannibal finally found something in Will that made him feel compassion for somebody, ANYBODY. Will is special, and so is Hannibal, because Will can’t give Hannibal up and Hannibal can’t give Will up.

There’s also a moment where I believe that Hannibal is so overcome by joy and celebration at the way Will is turning out that he couldn’t help but touch him.

Will had just went to pull the trigger when Hannibal stopped him.

The point was that Will had every intention to kill the man and he really wanted to, he tried but the man was spared by Hannibal. Hannibal can’t contain his pride, and then he tells Will that “with all my knowledge and intrusion, I could never entirely predict you. I can feed the caterpillar, and I can whisper into the chrysalis, but what hatches follows it’s own nature and is beyond me.” Basically saying that Will is growing into something beautiful. And to compare him to a butterfly is actually pretty sweet. Butterfly’s are majestic, beautiful, he’s saying that he adores Will basically lol.

Also the completely over the top, romantic way he checked Will’s temperature.

In conclusion, Hannibal doesn’t say “I love you” when he says I love you. He just doesn’t touch anyone else like this. Sure, Alana, but you can’t tell me you watched that and thought “this looks like a genuine, loving relationship. He’s not just using her to get at everyone, manipulate the situation and make Will jealous. (And of course the reason the entire relationship was created, just for the sex scene when it kinda looks like they all, and more specifically Will and Hannibal, were fucking.)”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannigram #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #will graham #hannibal will graham #Hannibal analysis #analysis #queer #gay #gay ships

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vinnival · 3 years

Text

This is pretty long BFJWDN this is just about my gruntsona, you don't have to read it baes

Infodumpng about my madcom s/i and her story because its my blog and I can do what I want with it

Agent Bedazzle

Alternate ID: M31-074, AKA MELODY

Started out as a homeless girl (known then as Melody, not Bedazzle yet) before Nevada fell

She was shivering and cold, hiding under a dying tree

Her soon-to-be sibling figure Ali (afab, they/them) found her and brought her to their home

They grew up together, which is how they got so close

Ali's parents both were forced to work for Nexus/soon-to-be AAHW

Obviously it wasn't outright stated she was being forced to work for them, the parents claimed it was a job opportunity where they could all work as a family,,, they don't want their kids 2 die man

Phoob n Auditor are meanies who r forcing the entire family- including Melody- to also work for them both

Unfortunately she believed the lie

They couldn't leave their mom behind and was used as a sort of threat to keep them there and under their control

So they unfortunately stayed and kept working for Nexus

As soon as Ali's father passed away, Mel and Ali realized how dangerous it was there

Ali became traumatized because they were the one tasked with working on live experiments

Melody kinda had the same thing, but this time... animals

And well

Herself

So she's kinda trauma ridden too

Honestly who isn't anymore

She's also a professor, who teaches the new clones about the generalities of living, they're not absolutely clueless, though. They just need a lil... kickstart, yanno?

Her classes are around 3 weeks long- one week for math, one for reading, one for weapons/weapon safety

Clones aren't allowed to know anything else lest they become too smart

Generally referred to as Professor Melody

Also does music in her spare time <3

Mel has also been tasked with finding a way to start producing female-oriented grunts

For What Reason? We May Never Know

All of the grunts currently there were male-oriented, or had no specific binary gender

And let me clarify: I headcanon a difference between a "person" and "a grunt working for AAHW/Nexus"

People are your average Janes and Johns, would die just as easily as the normal average

Grunts are more durable, aggressive, everything is boosted up for the sake of combat

So, my little s/i became the lead scientist in making a female-oriented grunt clone

This wouldn't be as easy as expected

There were no existing bases for such a task

So she just. Used herself

Yes she was going to be the base of her own experiments

She also decided it would be cool to grab DNA of All Living Female Animals That The Nexus Team Had

...and just cram it into one (1) grunt gal

She kept all the gene samples in different organized jars in her lab area, and (every week) took blood from her own self for her genes.

Meanwhile Ali had to be trusted with the new clone creation machines, and it was mostly going good, they were actively cloning rats and other grunts, so this should work with Mel

Finally, the day was upon them; their year's worth of work finally was finished and Mel could relax and let the science happen

She stepped into Ali's machine after giving them the final concoction of the conjoined genes

Hooo boy

It started out good, then around 5 minutes pass and Mel points out a bit of pain

"Ahh, Ali, this is a little painf- owh!"

But it got worse

If Ali wasn't traumatized enough, hearing the slowly escalating complaints of pain Mel was letting out sent it over the ledge

They wanted to let her out so badly, so so badly, Mel was now screaming and begging to be freed-

But mr (homo)phobe appeared, and ordered them to leave Mel alone

A special someone even rushed into the room, wondering what the fuck Mel was screaming about

Uh oh! Looks like she's dying! lol

Ali and the other special scientist (👀👀👀) just held each other and silently cried as Mel's painful screeches finally stopped

A few weeks passed, and Nevada fell- luckily, their building was still intact through it all, and Audi manages to take over and rule it. All the while, Mel remained in the machine. Finally, one day, the health IV hooked to her arm started to spike

She was declared dead, but the process was still going- she was being made into a grunt

Let's just say mel went to a very popular afterlife place and got MESSED up messed up

Ali rushed to the capsule, and released the newly-formed grunt inside- checking her health themselves

The new main man himself appeared and told the grunt girl her new name, Agent Bedazzle

Too bad she couldn't remember her old name </3

"Why is my name kind of fruity" -her mind, probably

Ali was shocked, then saddened to hear about Dazz's memory problems

A new change of clothes was immediately given so Dazz wouldn't question the lab coat and turtleneck jumpsuit

And well,,, let's say instead of a completely new change, its just a ... variation of her old clothes

Auditor stressed to Ali to never reveal past information about Dazz to her, nor ever mention the hardships of being on Nexus' side, and the soon-to-come hardships of AAHW

He wants Dazz to be on his side LMAO

Ali was disgusted by him but he threatened their mom's life (who was still alive !!!) so they couldn't do much :(

Whenever Dazz recognizes something that she could've experienced or saw or done anything with in her past life, a bolt of pain rips through her head and she'll black out

She takes up hypnosis and loves stealth missions

Its like her brain is mad at her for being curious

She is stuck in a barren, dark place in her head, full of static and blurred figures, stark white against the dark backgrounds

I call this the "mindscape"

She of course has like 15 different types of animal genes in her she's fucked Up

Like she'll get so many intense instinctual urges to do shit but she has to resist because she can't mf start kneading the nearby MAGs legs or jump into the empty boxes the restocking workers bring in

She also can't eat other grunts either much to her dismay

She has the following animals' genes:

Reindeer, lion, shark, mantis, chameleon, hawk, viper, bowerbird, horned lizard, elephant, hyena, ring-tailed lemur, fox, and greyhound dog

She's got it bad HDHSHS

Now that she thinks about it, where the fuck did these dam mfs get all of these animals????

Just smile and wave boys, smile and wave

Her brain screams at her to just go apeshit half of the time but she doesn't listen and it rattles around in her head like maracas

literally there are only 2 thoughts behind that eye of hers and it's "EAT EAT THEM ALL" and then "did i leave the oven on"

Oh yeah speaking of eye

She wasn't fully successful, and amidst the transformation some flaws began to develop

The biggest being her singular eye on her left side

No eyelids, nothing of that sort, only a bulging eyeball

Her wire horn covers her eye, yes, but kinda acts like glasses in a way? There's a lens over her eye and a hypnotic swirl covering it, it spins constantly and if someone were to watch it long enough they would fall into a trance

She covers it with her wire horn- she made it herself! The reason she has gloves covering her hands are, 1. she loves adjusting the horn into different shapes but it causes cuts on her hands because wire Sucks and 2. to cover the toe beans (who knows why she does that but she DOES have cat toe beans..... i couldn't resist)

Otherwise she wears a neat lil eyepatch with the same spiral motif (and why does she wear one you ask? I'm lazy and don't wanna drsw the horn sometimes)

It has to be a WHILE though, and Dazz also has to make sure she's willing to hypnotize her victim

She carries two yo-yos, one for each hand

Yes she uses them for her hypnocology

They're kind of comfort objects to her, since Ali made them for her as a gift for "being a successful creation"

tbh it was Dazz's (well, technically Melody's) birthday, yet she wasn't aware of it- she couldn't remember, and it only came off as a random gift

Dazz only vents her thoughts and struggles to one person, one who wouldn't give a single damn about her fucked up mind because he has a fucked up mind of his own

Yes I'm talking about our lovely clown boy, Tricky!

Literally he does not care what she says LMEUASHSJH

Like they'll be sitting together one day and she'd be like "so I almost chewed a guy's head off today" and he'd be like YO SICK

Honestly they're a power duo

Tricky is more close-ranged and upfront combat, Dazz is more long-ranged and stealthy combat

Dazz will be the one scouting the missions, taking out any straggling threats while the clown goes in to attack head-on

She follows behind him, sneaking around and picking off ones that survived Tricky's assault

Ali always cracks a smile seeing them together because it reminds them of Ye Olde Days

If you're smart you would've figured out what I'm insinuating about the two of them

The way the two actually met was obviously through hotdogs but for context ill go a bit further back

Dazz always gets assaulted by the other grunts, mostly because she looks weird and different, but also sometimes because she (TW s/xual harassment) gets sexually harassed a lot

Ngl one of the main reasons she invested in steel-toed elflike boots was to kick the grunts in the ouchy place if they harass her

The first time she got harassed though- she was so enraged that she straight up jumped on the guy and tore into his neck

Auditor would usually Not care (he's dealt with worse) but since he doesn't want news of Dazz to go around lest the Main 3 hear about her, he reprimanded her

She was forced to eat in isolation </3

She just sat there on her first day of isolation on the side of the cafeteria with the empty tables, a 1337 agent positioned with her

She didn't have an appetite and just sadly stared at her wonderfully made hotdogs

Guess who smelled said wonderfully made hotdogs and came to investigate

The 1337 agent wandered off which is how Tricky was able to approach LMAOAOA

"HELLO!" Dazz didn't even flinch

Tricky tilted his head in confusion- usually people would yelp in surprise and then cower in fear

"YOU HAvE HOTDOG.... I WANT..."

She simply placed her hand on her tray and slid it over to the clown, and he was overjoyed... not for long though

"YOU NOW FRIEND... BUT SAD FRIEND" Not to be soft clown immediately, but he went soft clown immediately, his brain just told him to cheer her up

Natural clown instincts obviously

He didn't leave her alone until she at least looked at them

Well when she did...

BAM white-hot pain tearing through her head

She fainted and entered her usual dream state, where she floated in a black pit of nothingness, once again trying to put names to shapes that appeared in the distance and the such

All she could remotely guess that she had was a set of circular-shaped glasses sat on her face

She wished she could identify everything that appeared, but the grey and white blobs just meshed together annoyingly

Were these... memories... that she couldn't remember fully yet, for some reason?

She came to, and the clown was in her face (breathing rather heavily), rapidly tilting their head in all different directions while staring at her

"FRIEND OKAY????"

She finally spoke to him, "Y-yeah..."

She sat up, and talked with Tricky for the rest of lunch break, hesitantly

She continues to have blackouts like that whenever she sees something she recognizes from her past life

Every time she asked for info on her past self, everyone would always say it's Confidential

Finally, Ali gave a hint of info, and Dazz was ONTO it

I did a comic about it, its rather messy, but its in the #i drew stuff tag on my page !!! You'll find it eventually, I wrote the dialogue out on it!

And yeah when she gets the info she finally discovers how shifty AAHW is

She also connects the dots about the clown after vising a special room, but I plan on doing something with that later... (hint, its from a story by @//jalapenjowrites ily bae)

She openly defects to the ANTI AAHW one day, stealing Ali and their Mom while she was at it

She couldn't find Tricky in time, and honestly she was glad she didn't because she would get sad if he said no

The main 3 don't trust any of the new 3 when Dazz finally managed to bump into them

Ali's mom's name is Cyndi, btw

Cyndi calls Dazz melody still ;-;

Dazz is too comfortable and too used to her new name to use Melody, but wouldn't hate being called it sooo

Ali and Dazz catch up finally

They're back to being good friends/sibling figures, but Dazz had to get them away from her so danger doesn't follow them

Cue emotional goodbye scene, as Cyndi and Ali both head towards the borders of Nevada into safer land

When Dazz returns, its just her and the other 3, who are still kind of suspicious of her

She understands

She sticks on their side for a while before waking up to peril

A note, just a note, a good walk away from the base, next to a patch of ruined garden plants.

It looked too new, so she bent down to pick it up and-

"We have Doctor Ali. Surrender yourself to us or else." Was all that was written, in neat cursive

Her breath caught in her throat

She had to leave the main 3.

What would they think...?

She was glad they were all in their rooms by the time she came back

Unfortunately, when she had per stuff packed and was ready to leave, she crossed paths with Hank, who was grabbing himself something to eat

He grunted over at her, acknowledging her

She didn't respond, only looked at him for a few seconds before looking away

He was confused when he thought he seen her old duffel bag (which she originally had with her when she first came in) attached to her

When she didn't return, they began to have a sneaking suspicion she was a traitor

They're a lil grateful she didn't give out their base location, the AAHW might have known where they were generally, yes, but theyre still hard to pinpoint, like any good base in Nevada.

Dazz returned to AAHW to see Ali has, in fact, been captured and tossed into a cage along with other enemy prisoners

Lol Audi was angry n said "I'm revoking your rights, making you a MAG under my power and ur lil friend is gonna be turned into a grunt like you"

yes Dazz gets turned into a MAG

its my s/i n I can do what i want w her

She goes through mostly the same process, which puts her through intense pain but amplifies it bc of the whole Remembering ordeal

Unfortunately for them she still retains her memories after the transformation

But let's not focus in that for now

Speaking of transformation...

Remember all those animal genes? Yeah most of themhave their own physical traits displayed on her like a fucked up canvas

I'll end it off w a photo of dazz <3 I already posted this but I like this pic

And thats all I have so far!

#madness combat #madness combat oc #madness combat self insert #what da bedazzle doin #this is so long #if you read that all *willingly* send me a message and i will give you a cookie and draw smth for you #maybe #gruntsona

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theonetheycallhannah · 3 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 20: Second Assist

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane reunites with friends and family, hashes out some feelings, and gets real with Sy. Can their relationship survive her trauma? And the threat that still looms above them?

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: Mention of rape, alcoholic beverages, violent imagery…feels out the butt.

Author’s Note: You guys are so splendid and beautiful! I can’t thank you enough for your support and encouragement to finish this piece. First, welcome to new readers! I know poor Henry’s injury and subsequent physiotherapy has driven some of you here, and while I’m sorry for him, I’m glad I can consider myself something of a pioneer in this particular genre and provide you some help for your newfound thirst. To my OG readers, it is to you I owe this entire work, parts written and incomplete, and I hope an eventual book deal. I mean to mention you in my acknowledgements, should this ever reach a willing publisher. You’ve inspired me so supremely that I cannot quantify it, even with the words I hold so dear.

Since my last chapter was posted, we’ve said a relieved goodbye to 2020 and a tentative hello to 2021. To be honest, this year has started out worse than last year. Lots of bad weather in my area this winter, my sister is currently on her way to a new life in another state, and my grandmother, the last grandparent I had, passed away in February. Those last two things have been especially difficult to shake off and recover from, both coming to fruition pretty suddenly. Amongst all that, I’ve been pretty distracted by my other fandoms, especially Marvel, and I’ve been reading a killer book series that I’m utterly in love with. (The Throne of Glass novels by Sarah J. Maas. 10/10 recommend.) But I knew I needed to get back into Shane and Sy’s story, especially given the new and rekindled interest in the subject matter. In all honesty, I’ve had most of it written for months. It’s just been a matter of finishing it off to set up the rest of the story.

I really hope you all enjoy Chapter 20, Second Assist, and would love your feedback and notes. You are all so important to this story, and your notes, reblogs, and comments are cherished. Thank you so much for reading! Love from Hannah!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira@oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka @thisismysecretthirstblog @speakerforthedead0 @tumblnewby @suavechops @radkesgirl83 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @heartfelt-pen @auds24 @geekycanuck @lunarstarknight @wilma-g @coldmuffinbanditshoe @feralrunaway @sugarpenchant @bichibibi @mzchievous-blog @shesakillerkween @madbadidc7ed @foodieforthoughts @toomanyfandomsshreya @oqueequesentes-borboletas @kebabgirl67 @indigosaurus (some of you new readers didn’t ask, but I took the liberty. If you want me to remove you, I totally will without hard feelings.)

If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane woke in her warm bed, late morning sun streaming in through her sheer curtains, the heavier drapes parted to let in the light. She wished she'd remembered to close them before now. She really was not ready to be awake.

She was sore. Achy. Her sleep had been fitful and full of shadowy nightmares and muffled screams. Beyond that, she didn't try to remember images or events. She knew the general premise of the dreams. It would take a lot of time, effort, or a miracle to make her forget those traumas she'd been through in the last week. Not even forget. She knew she never would. But move on from them. Accept them. And heal from them…even that seemed a mighty obstacle. One she was not sure she could surmount.

Through the open bedroom door, she could hear Lynyrd Skynyrd and the clanging and sizzling of pans, and she could smell bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Sy had left the room, but had not, it seemed, gone far. She gingerly sat up, stood from the bed, and donned her robe as she walked out into the hall and down the corridor to the kitchen.

The sight before her warmed her heart. There was Sy. In only his boxers, daringly frying the notoriously dangerous breakfast meat. Upon her entry to the kitchen, she could also smell pancakes, and she thought syrup, as well. He seemed to be warming a bottle of the maple unction in a pot of hot water. He turned as she stepped on a squeaky floorboard, and grinned widely at her.

"Mornin' sunshine." And she was struck by the irony of someone with such a radiant smile calling her sunshine. Especially when she didn't feel much like beaming. But she couldn't help return the expression, even through her pain.

"Mornin' bear. Did you go to the store?" She knew she couldn't have any bacon in her fridge, and she doubted her eggs and milk were still good at this point. But she also couldn't think that he would leave her for any reason.

"Nah, some of the guys brought over some provisions. Matt worked on your car all night, too, and filled up the tank. It's as good as new. He and Nate brought ‘er over as well as the groceries. I just had ‘em get stuff I knew your family wouldn't be bringing later. They've had tons of food given to them this week, and they're ready to share. You should have seen your mom loading me down with sandwiches and chips and whatnot when I visited them."

"I still can't believe you met them. I really wanted to introduce you personally." Shane's face fell. She would never be able to get that back. She wanted to cry. Sy had poured her a cup of coffee and sat it in front of her with her favorite creamer.

"Darlin' I’m so sorry. I had to talk to them."

"I know." she sniffed. "I'm not mad. Not at you. Just…"she didn't want to say Elliott's name. "I'm disappointed that the experience was stolen from me." That so many things had been stolen from her. By that monster. There was no other way to describe him. Sy growled. As if he could read her mind. He really just knew her well enough and shared her thoughts.

"Well, don't worry, we'll have a nice dinner with them one of these days, and we can pretend. Sound good?"

"Yeah, and I can feign nervousness." she laughed.

"And I'll pretend too. That I'm scared to meet your dad." he chuckled. "What if he threatens me with his shotgun?"

"I'll pull the ol' 'Daddy, no, I loooooove him!' line, as I throw myself between you!"

"That oughta work." he laughed and kissed her on the forehead as he stepped toward the stove and flipped a pancake.

As they sat eating their late breakfast, Shane's mind wandered. Nothing had changed on the surface, but everything was different now. This cozily mundane breakfast with her boyfriend felt like an out of body experience. As delicious as it was, as wonderful and comforting as it should feel, her guard was up. Even through her amiable façade. She was not the person she was two weeks ago. She was not the same woman who said goodbye to Sy at the base. Maybe that was the real transformation. Maybe that was why nothing felt normal. It wasn't the world, but her own self coming back into it.

"Shane?" Sy asked, gently, but it felt like he was speaking through a megaphone directly into her ear. She was so startled, she nearly dropped the half full mug of coffee that was paused midway to her lips. A bit sloshed out onto the table and splashed her shirt.

"Shit!" she chided herself. It wasn't a big deal, but she felt stupid jumping at the sound of her own name.

Sy reached for the closest towel, hanging from the oven handle, grabbed it and started for her clothes with it. She stopped him. But she couldn't think about why the intimate act made her uncomfortable.

"No, don't, it's fine. These clothes have seen better days, anyway." She pulled the towel from him and began to mop up the small puddles of coffee around her plate.

Sy seemed to note the stains already present on the shirt, as if trying to divine their history. She was something of a messy eater, so the battle wounds of many a barbecue, spaghetti dinner, and hurried breakfast peppered the now off-white SATB club tee she'd gotten her second or third year in college choir. She thought back to a huge room with high ceilings. White, cinder block walls, flecked tile floors, a beautiful, glossy, black baby grand in front of a long whiteboard with black lines to resemble sheet music. She thought about the mnemonic device she'd learned to help her remember what notes appeared on each line, and in the spaces between them. She pondered the deeper meanings and implications of these devices. EGBDF…every good boy does fine. She thought about the "good boys" in her life. She knew many. Her dad, her brother Ethan, Sy, obviously, her many male coworkers and friends…and honestly they did far better than "fine." They were wonderful. But she was letting the "bad boys" she'd encountered dictate her mood. Permeate her psyche. Tear her down. She didn't want to be like this. Then FACE came to mind, and above their purpose of indicating the notes between the lines on the staff, they called her to action. To face these newly minted demons with all the strength she knew she possessed, and she too would "do fine." But as with almost all actions, this was easier said than done.

She felt a warm presence on her left hand which had paused it's torture of the now coffee-infused kitchen towel. Sy's hand was squeezing hers gently.

"Shane." he uttered, barely above a whisper this time. She looked at him through tears that she had not realized had formed. He continued.

"Shane, what can I do, darlin'? I'll do anything."

"Babe, you're doing everything you can, and more. This…this is all going to have to come from me. I…don't know when I'll be myself again…" she paused, tears streaming now. "I'm…I'm different."

"You're not though." he reached for her face, but she pulled away.

"I am, damn it! Sy, I was…" Words had power. And the one she was thinking of had more power than she thought was warranted. She knew that uttering it would take away it's power…and yet mustering the courage and strength to actually do so…seemed impossible. She took a deep breath, and disassociated herself from the statement, even though it was about her own past.

"I was raped." She refused to cry. She felt it all again. She had never said the words. She had never thought it necessary. Everyone understood. Sy, his friends, and she was sure her own loved ones had made the connection. But she knew she needed to say it now to drive home the points she was about to make.

Sy, looked at the table, nodding, not needing to be told in so many words something he already had surmised from the clear evidence. He remained silent. She went on.

"I love you, Sy. I have since the day we met, on one level or another, and I believe that I always will. But I…right now I can't be a proper girlfriend to you. I can't…be with you, touch you, be touched by you, in the way we used to be. In the way you deserve…and I don't know when…or even if…I ever will. Not that I don't want to. That's ALL I want in the world. To go back. To be the woman who fell in love with this…incredible man. To make love with you, but…I can't."

Sy's eyes were full of tears, their predecessors already descending his round cheeks and disappearing into his thick, dark beard.

"Sy, I don't want to lead you on and keep you tied to a relationship with no life in it. You deserve someone who's whole. Someone who can be a fully invested partner for you, and not this broken, damaged--"

"You stop that, Shane. I won't hear no more of this kinda talk. Y'hear? You're my girl. My woman. My person. No matter what. You gotta know I'd never leave ya just cuz you aren't ready for sex again. You don't think that I would, do ya?"

"Well, you went to Virginia…you took that job…knowing the distance it would put between us. Literally and figuratively."

"Biggest mistake of my life." Shane raised her eyebrows in surprise as Sy elaborated. "I couldn't focus on my classes without wishing you were there. Wishing I could team up with you for discussions and hand to hand combat training…that thought got me a little too excited, if you catch my drift." He smirked, pulling a sheepish smile from Shane. "Then in that forest. I dreamt about you every night. I thought of you constantly. I could barely breath sometimes, I missed ya so damned much. I was an idiot. I was insane to think that I needed anything other than you. Any MORE. There IS no more. You're it. You're the MOST! The most important thing in my life."

The declaration hung like vapors in the air, more felt than seen. Tangible yet ethereal.

"And when I found out that you were missing…I was…well, I think I looked like death…and not warmed over. You can ask the program director I met with after I got the news. She could tell I was just sick over it. And as I thought about it on the way home, pieced things together, started thinking about who'd taken you, I got murderous. Shane, I have been in dozens of battles, skirmishes, firefights, you name it. War. But…the sheer bloodlust I felt thinking about what you could be going through…I've never experienced anything like it. Everything was red. Everything. For days. Until I saw you, alive. And then it went red again when I saw the fear and damage on your face." she could tell he was doing his best not to talk about the farmhouse and that basement, but she still flashed back to the moments before and after his appearance there. The moments when she simultaneously prayed to live and hoped to die.

"You don't owe me anything, Shane. I just want you in my life, and I don't care what your presence looks like. Romantic, platonic, or somewhere in between. I'm here for you. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shane felt the urge to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, but could not seem to move more than one arm to place her other hand on top of his. She hoped the gratitude and love behind the small, but heartfelt gesture landed. It was all she had in that moment, no matter how abundant her affection.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shane's family's arrival was a complete blur to her. It was joyous, tearful, and the happiest she'd been in a long time. The moment she opened the front door for them, she was surrounded, engulfed with hugs from her parents and siblings. They stood in their affectionate huddle for several moments before Peg waved Sy over with marked insistence. He'd been standing by, observing happily, but not wanting to intrude on the familial reunion.

When they finally dispersed, John asked the two younger men to help him bring in groceries. The women headed into Shane's bedroom for a more private setting in which to talk. Shane filled her mother and sister in the best she could given the rawness of the wounds left on her mind by the events.

She leaned against the headboard cuddling with Gabby while her mom rubbed her feet. She had insisted on doing this thing that had always comforted her children, and made them feel much better when they were younger.

"Well, I'm very proud of you, pumpkin." The girls both looked at their mother, who rather uncharacteristically hadn't spoken in some time. Shane was nonplussed. Peg elaborated.

"You survived something that many women don't. You're talking about it now, which even more women don't. You may think you're broken, but you're just a tree damaged by a storm, but standing stronger than ever." Trust her mom to lay such wisdom on her. When she felt like giving up. When she just wanted pity. When she could only see defeat. Her mother had always found a way to encourage and buoy her and show her the victory.

"Mom's right." Gabby affirmed, and it was Peg's turn to be nonplussed, as the two women, though similar in so many ways, never seemed to see eye to eye. "It's true. Shane I've seen a lot of women come into the clinic in shoes very much like yours. And trust me…some of them…they don't make it to this point. You've got a long way to go before you're fully recovered, don't get me wrong, but you'll get there. You have us. And you have Sy."

"And then there's Sy." She diverted. "How am I supposed to plan any sort of future with him when…" She looked at her mom, and hesitated. Peg rolled her eyes.

"Shane, I know what the two of you get up to when you're alone. You don't have to be shy with me."

"Still…" she took a breath and spoke. "When I can't bring myself to…sleep with him?"

"Look at him, you're kidding, right?" Gabby chided, insensitively, but recanted at the pained expression on Shane's face. "Sorry, sis. Trying to lighten the mood a touch. Too soon. But seriously, I don't think this reluctance you feel will be permanent."

"And even if it is," Peg took over, "that man is out-of-his-mind in love with you, Shaney." She kissed Shane's toe before putting a sock on her foot. "He almost seems to worship you. Now, you know how I feel about using that term outside of religious context, but that is exactly the kind of love I want for you. Devout, and unconditional."

"But, mom, I can't--"

"Did you hear me? I said 'unconditional,' sweetie." Peg interrupted. "No matter what. No matter the obstacle. No matter the distance. No matter the circumstances. Love unwavering. That's what Sy has for you. I've seen it in him. Trust the momma."

The insistence her mother placed on trust had always ruffled Shane's feathers. Gabby's too, who she could feel stiffen slightly beside her. But Shane, for once, really wanted to trust her mother, hoping against hope that she was right. And that she, herself wouldn't screw up the best relationship she had ever been in or was likely to ever be in again.

The girls had begun talking about some of the coworkers who'd brought food in the past week, and Peg couldn't resist remarking on the character of her favorites and judging the ones she didn't care for…oddly enough, getting more or less, the correct measure of them, as Shane saw it.

After what must have been an hour from the time they'd arrived, they heard a knock on the slightly ajar bedroom door. John poked his head in.

"Ladies, we've put a casserole in the oven, and completed various manly projects around the house--"

"Oh, daddy, what projects?" She cringed. She hated that the men had felt the need to "fix" things.

"Babe, your guest bathroom had not one, but two leaky faucets, your kitchen table seemed to be more of a teeter-totter, and half the light bulbs in the living room were out. Among other tiny things. You're welcome." he smirked his crooked smirk so similar to her own, and she returned it as if he was looking in a mirror.

"Thanks, dad."

"Anyway, lunch is almost ready. So, when you've finished your confab, let's eat."

Dinner passed amiably, Shane found a reserve within herself to allow some quasi-normal behavior, as long as you didn’t look too closely. She was talking animatedly with her siblings, making their parents and Sy laugh riotously. Shane noticed some odd looks passing between Sy and her father, but chalked it up to paranoia. She wished at least Gabby and Ethan could stay, but Heather would be over soon, and she deserved her own dedicated time. Shane wanted to give that to her.

She said her farewells to her family with promises to visit them the next day, and at least one more time before her siblings went back home, if she could work it out.

Sy was so wonderful the whole time. Standing by her, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they waved goodbye to the departing vehicle. He made her feel so safe. They went into the kitchen and cleaned up from lunch. Well, Sy cleaned. Shane was texting Heather about when she'd be over.

"Heather says she'll be here in about a half hour. She's picking up wine and pizza." Shane told Sy without looking up from her phone. She could see out of the corner of her eye, though, that he had just closed the dishwasher and was selecting a cycle.

"Sounds great. Do you want me to get out of here? Give you guys some time, one on one?" He asked as he dried his hands, wet from preparing dishes for the machine.

She thought about it, and shuddered. She played a scene in her head that startled her. In her mind's eye, she saw Sy leave and then moments later heard a knock on the door. Presuming it was Heather, she opened the door with abandon, only to see Elliott standing there under a flickering porch light, smirking maliciously at her and ready to overpower and abduct her again. She shook the thought from her head, but remained uneasy as she answered his question.

"Uh, no. Thanks. I'm sure she'll want to talk to both of us. She likes you." Shane grinned softly at Sy in an attempt to mask her trepidation over the thought of him leaving her alone for any period of time. She thought it had worked.

"Okay, well, whatever you think, sunshine. I don't wanna get in the way." He was wiping down the countertops. She felt so impossibly full of love for him, she was starting to wonder how she hadn't yet burst with it. She couldn't bear the thought of holding him back from a fulfilling relationship. He deserved everything she couldn't give him right now. And she knew she should make him leave her. Cut him loose. But she was, as she'd been since she'd met him, a weak woman. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him. Of him no longer being hers. And somehow worse, of not being his, herself. She would always need him for so many reasons, not least of which being her love for him. Maybe one day, she'd recover from this trauma, and be able to be who he deserved. To give him what he needed.

"You're never in the way, bear." She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed him as tight as she could. He placed a loving hand over hers, sighing and smiling, though she had no visual proof of the latter. It was just a feeling.

Heather's greeting was no less exuberant than that of Shane's family, but it was more joyful and less emotional, even though she was immensely relieved to see her best friend after so long. They talked as if no time had passed, and Shane mustered up the dregs of her former self to have one more interaction for the day. Thank God it was Heather and not someone who would require more. She wouldn't have it to give.

"I am so glad you're okay, Shane! Things around the clinic have been bleak as fuck. Susan is loosing her mind, Anita is beside herself with concern, and the rest of us just plain ol' miss the hell out of you. And not just because of all of the overtime everyone has been pulling to get your patients seen."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize…wow, I'm awful. I didn't even think---"

"That you'd be missed? Think again, sister. The place would fall apart if you ever really left. But don't feel guilty. It's the least everyone can do, and they've all said it themselves. We all love you, and know that you'd do the same for any of us if you could at all. Hopefully you won't have to, though!"

Shane nodded, eyes wide in agreement. She wouldn't wish the last week of her life on her worst enemy. On the worst person in the world. Except maybe the people responsible. Tit for tat.

"Well, I'm sorry my absence has caused extra work for all of you." Shane looked into the deep glass of Chardonnay Sy had poured her from the bottle Heather had brought. She felt about as small as the air bubble making it's way up the sloping curve of the stemless vessel. She felt a guilt that she knew was fully void of logic. It made no sense for her to feel guilt for being kidnapped. But she had always had this notion, this nagging voice in her head that told her that her misfortunes were a direct result of her decisions. That she'd inadvertently stepped on the butterfly that resulted in the monsoon she was currently experiencing, and whatever cataclysmic events she would face next.

"Why in God's name are you apologizing for this, Shay?" Heather's tone was kind, but still mildly scolding.

"If I'd never been with Elliott, none of this would have--"

"Bitch, are you a fortune teller?"

"No, but--"

"Soothsayer?"

"No."

"Time traveler?"

"I wish!" Shane chuckled. But she really did wish.

"Have you any real and proven success at consistently predicting the future?"

"I don't, but--"

"No. No buts. No howevers. You had no idea what becoming involved with Elliott could have done. Were there signs, sure. But you can't look on the past as a rubric to judge the quality of your decisions. You know that. You can only learn from your mistakes. And you have."

"Heather's right, sunshine. You really have learned. You look for Elliott's behaviors in mine and shut me down quick if you see 'em. You're not going to let yourself go down that road again. And I'm proud of you for it."

Shane silently worried her wine glass. It was hard to argue with such truth. But it was hard to agree when her own feelings were in such stark opposition. So she did neither.

"Well, I've preached my sermon for the day." she laughed. "I've taken up enough of your time. Oh, your phone. It's in my purse. I think it's fully charged, but I turned it off."

Shane thanked her friend, then Heather hugged them both and took her leave.

"Y'okay, bug?" Sy asked her after what she surmised was several minutes of silence. Minutes she didn't notice as they passed.

"Mmm…" she trailed off.

"Can I do something for ya?" And she really thought about the question. He could probably do a lot of things for her. He could make love to her until she felt whole again, even if it hurt her at first. Not an ideal option. He could probably get them both some new identities and enough money to spirit her away to somewhere her past wouldn't follow. If she became someone new, literally, would she have to bring that old baggage, those old scars, with her? Again, suboptimal. But he could definitely take the source of all grief and turmoil in her life far into the Missouri back country, somewhere not even the hunters would venture, some fallow field or forgotten cistern, and end him. Snuff out his spark of life like a candle caught in a tornado. Spill a fatal amount of his monstrous blood onto the unforgiving earth and send him to the Hell to which he was undoubtedly destined. But did she want that? Did she want another soul as a scar on that of the man she so deeply cherished? He'd say it was worth it. He'd say he'd take a thousand more for her. A million. That was Sy.

"Nothing comes to mind." She lied. And he knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. She was so grateful that he respected her, not for the lie itself, but for the reason she wasn't giving him the whole truth just now.

His phone went off and he picked it up as he stood from his seat at the table. She could only hear that it was Matt, the guy she thought she understood had the car place, before she heard tension in Sy's voice. Even from the next room, she could tell something was wrong, though he was talking too quietly for her to make out words.

She heard him suddenly shout a stream of profanities that he rarely said at all around her, at least, let alone together. There was a bang, and the walls of her kitchen quaked like the tectonic plates beneath them were shifting.

Sy walked back in, his face was red, as were his knuckles. He was shaking an injury out of his hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked, deep concern at his appearance and demeanor, suddenly ominous.

"I need to fix your wall in there." he grumbled, evading, without success. She'd be doing therapy on his hand, next.

"What's really wrong?" she repeated, sternly.

"That was Matt. Elliott's…escaped, somehow. He's in the wind."

Shane's heart became so heavy, she could almost feel it smashing through the kitchen floor and burying itself deep in the cement floor of her basement.

"Oh, God! No! What if he goes to the police!?"

"Fuck that, I'm more concerned about him coming after you!"

The two stared, faces full of equal measures of concern for the other.

Up Next: Chapter 21-Patient Education

#netflix #netflix sand castle #captain syverson #Captain Syverson x OFC #captain syverson fanfic #sigh for sy #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader

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lilyrachelcassidy · 3 years

Text

Summer Nights (2)

A/N: Is that... is that...? The unbridled enthusiasm I’m hearing? Or are you trying to reach me with torches and pitchforks for being so untrustworthy? Assuming the first option.

Anyway -- Yes, as I promised, this is the second part of the Summer Nights which you would hopefully enjoy. Waiting for your feedback. It’s the INDEX if you need a refresher.

ALSO, I give a lot of credit to @drawlfoy and @bored-and-botheredwho helped me with editing this chapter and steamed off my emotional breakdown related to my writing (lmao). I love you so much gals and a big THANK U once more!!!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: coarse language; alcohol; Narcissa turning into a shitty-mother (lol)

Tags: @war-sword @paradigmax @winnsmills @idkatee@bforbroadway @okaydraco

The next thing Draco knew, he was being woken up with a massive hangover in the snuggly, way-too-comfortable bed by the high-pitched squeal of his mother.

"You, darling, made a lot of trouble for yourself yesterday," Narcissa admonished her son, a glacial cool look on her face. Entering Draco's hotel apartment, she walked over to the window and opened the drapes with one swift movement, splashing an annoyed Draco with light. He groaned, not yet daring to complain due to his mother's livid mood, to say the least.

"You have no idea of what happened yesterday, do you?"

"Yyy-" was the only sound he could make. God, where to the fuck was he? He hadn't been this plastered in forever.

"Of course you don't." Narcissa shook her head and laughed nervously, although she made it plainly obvious there was nothing humorous about the situation. "You blacked out so hard in that sleazy bar there is no way you can recall anything from yesterday. Look at you -- you are squinting at me like I'm the sun!"

Draco nervously ran his finders through his disheveled hair. He was definitely not in the right mind to provoke the conflict. "I left you the note at the reception," he informed her, trying to slickly get out of the unenviable conversation. "Told the receptionist to hand it over."

Contrary to his mother's accusatory ascertainment, he actually had some glimpses of the previous night (or should he say an all-night rave?). There were for sure drinks -- a lot of drinks; a variety of kinds he didn't recognize from the magical world but still guzzled delightfully. The second recollection was dancing --which wasn't his intention, but with some luck of his -- got invited by some hot-looking chicks from across the table. And yes, he definitely remembers the swaying and the rhythmical moving of the hips along with some cheesy muggle vibes mixed with the smell of booze and weed. Maybe he even hooked up with one of the girls? The last thing he recollects before passing out, almost like through a haze, was seeing Narcissa's furious face screaming something incoherent at him. Overall, that's his all night wrapped in one.

"Do you think the mere note 'I will be fine' was going to calm down my shattered nerves? Draco Lucius Malfoy, I swear to our dear ancestors, I did not raise you to act so irresponsibly." She waved the finger at him warningly. “We come from rich history. You are the descendant from a line of successful forefathers who put their effort into building up our reputation. Do you think Lucius would approve of such unrestrained behavior? I’ve been already hearing of letting you be too careless. Is tha-"

"Mother, could we skip the lecture?" Draco snapped angrily, try as he might to suppress it. "I've heard it too many times. All I’m trying to have is a peaceful life. Without the prying eyes of the media and the meddling of my family..."

"And all I’m trying to have is an integrated, happy family to offer you support and love.” Draco opened his mouth to cut her in, but she shushed him with a wave, clearly suggesting 'Don’t even get me started’ meaning. “I’ve been- been trying to get a job, going through the infelicitous job interviews and looking for a solution to help our household through the post-war crisis. Have you shown any interest in that? Any?"

"But mo-"

"The last thing I want to have on my mind is dealing with your ignorant, boyish transitional stages, and let me tell you -- you do not make it any easier for me," she said without taking a breath. She exhaled slowly and continued, this time forcing a softer tone. "I ask you one thing for this summer. Let it be an enjoyable time without unnecessary conflicts. We have come to the beautiful country as France. Let's make a good thing out of it."

Draco, who was already wide awake by the buzz of adrenaline, looked at her with a serious expression. Scanning her face made him suddenly realize how hard must it have been for her to bear everything, and seeing the bags of tiredness under her beautiful, hazel eyes stopped him from retorting. "Mother, no matter what happens, I'll always support you. Remember that."

Narcissa smiled. “Oh. I know, honey, I know.” This time she lowered her voice by two octaves, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed. “It’s just… people have been gossiping behind our backs lately, partly throwing the blame at us. All I’m trying to do is protect us from those tormentors. But your binge drinking is not making the deadlock any better, and it drives me mad.” She chortled a little bit and patted Draco’s palm. “So, until the rumors die down, all we can do is raise our chins high.” Narcissa ended, her voice encouraging yet plaintive.

The last thing Draco liked is seeing his mother on the verge of emotional exhaustion, like in this moment. He felt an instant surge of sympathy, so he quickly found himself locking Narcissa in the supportive embrace. She responded to the gesture by wrapping her arms around her son’s neck and stroking his cheek delicately with the back of her hand, just like in the old times. Both of them yearningly wished to come back to those years of frivolity.

"I promise I'll try to be better," Draco said with certainty. Seeing Narcissa’s eyes light up in gratefulness and the smiley dimples form on her features, he assured himself it was the right thing to say at that mother-son moment.

“How could I be so lucky to have such a wise boy,” she muttered proudly, kissing Draco at the top of his head. “But perhaps you should not restrain yourself too much during the holiday. I give you the partial alibi per se. Just keep it under control.”

Smiling, Narcissa got up, straightening up her impeccable posture as in the habit of the high-status woman. For the first time in that day, Draco noticed how elegantly she was dressed up: the black, partly lacy dress stopping at the level of her knees; the shiny-white pearl jewelry perfectly matching her entire outfit; dark yet not defiant high-heels; andhair fixed up in the tight bun. In Draco’s opinion, she looked too prim...even for herself.

"Mother, are you heading somewhere?" he asked curiously.

“Well…” she started, blushing. “I’m going to see my old friend in the coffee shop. I haven’t been there for ages, so it’s one of the chances to meet up with them. Hopefully, you are going to take care of yourself for a few days.”

"Days?" he asked, shocked.

“You didn’t expect me to travel from town to town, did you?” she laughed lightly. “Bordeaux is quite a route to overcome. So I might be settling there for a few nights. Do you mind it, darling?”

Was he positive about the information? Did he mind? Partly yes. He didn’t imagine the prospect of wandering around the alleys of France on his own, especially on the first day of being there. But from the other side, seeing the joy painted on his mother’s face as she told him about the planned get-together made him feel less skeptical. Plus, getting rid of the extreme supervision for a few days wouldn’t be such a disaster as well.

As he calculated now, the ratio about the idea was 90% pro and 10% against.

"Of course not," he said simply, smiling at his mother.

"I knew you would understand." The crease of uncertainty on her forehead disappeared, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Meanwhile... I have already booked you the brunch downstairs but seeing as you are not in the wholesome state, I might order a delive-"

"Don't..." Draco opposed, rising from the bed and throwing the nearest shirt he could find over his head. "I'll come down. Some fresh air may be a cure for a hangover. Oh, and speaking of hangovers -- do you happen to have an anti-hangover potion?"

Narcissa let out a quiet chuckle and clapped her hands, seemingly satisfied with herself. Her tranquil gaze landed on the cupboard. "As a matter of self-preservation, yes, I do. Try searching inside the bedside cabinet."

He thanked her and then they talked with each other a little bit longer until Narcissa took the pocket watch out of her handy purse, noted the time ("Merlin's Beard, I am so tardy! I'm going to be alone on the platform if I stay here a minute longer!), and –a little startled with her inadvertency – hurriedly declared she should get going ("I really should get going Draco!”). Pecking her son twice on the cheeks as a farewell, she rushed towards the door and, for the last time, turned around to blow a brief motherly goodbye kiss. She left in such a hurry that the only sign indicating her presence in the room a few seconds ago was her familiar perfume lingering about in the air.

Draco gathered his clothes, and after half an hour of very difficult preparations while dealing with the consequences of yesterday's actions -- because the potion finally hits after two to three hours -- he found himself in front of the hotel's restaurant. As he walked in, he had to admit the room enchanted him with its lovely atmosphere, which brought back the memories of his first Hogwart's magical feast as an eleven-year-old boy.

With the large windows allowing plenty of light in, the entire space was in the classical style. The whole floor was clad with marble tiles in the white-like color; the walls were purely white and, apparently, someone must have put a lot of effort not to let a single dust spot appear in there; the ceiling was created in the concept of the sky resemblance making an impression of the real clouds hovering over heads. Three enormous chandeliers made a very good fit with carved wooden tables and similarly-looking chairs.

"Sir, would you like to make an order?" The decently looking waitress walked over to his table, with a white apron around her waist and green, deep eyes staring at him. "I'm Laura, by the way. I'll be serving you today."

He nodded, not really paying much attention to her primitive attempts of having a chit-chat. Cursorily glancing at the menu, he decided on having a french bagel with melted cheese and a coffee which was a specialty of the house as was written in the recommendations. The waitress scribbled something sloppily in her notes, smiled briefly, and then strode away.

The restaurant was almost fully emptied, and the only things heard in the background were a heated discussion of the couple beside the table and a composition of french, old songs prepared specifically for the guests.

Draco let out a small sigh of boredom, thinking yet again about the scenery of today. The only ideas that crossed his mind were either lounging in his stuffy hotel room or finding another hang-out spot to drown his sorrows.

After the War, he had found out it was pretty easier not to give in to any of the memories, blurring them out with the support of Scotch as a coping mechanism. Pansy and Daphne, his childhood friends, had tried to talk him out of it, kindly offering some tenderness and a chance for a conversation. But he had eventually stopped caring about any of that bullshit anymore.

That's why perhaps he'd just--

"Hi!" said a cheerful voice behind him, making him jump slightly at his seat with surprise. At first, he thought it was a mistake; that he must have been deemed as someone else considering he didn't know anyone around, so was in the opposite way. Turning around, however, made him realize it wasn't entirely the truth. "Do you remember me?"

"Hello." Of course, he remembered her. It was the receptionist from the previous day, whose name he didn't bother to memorize. Although he planned on avoiding potential candidates for a talk today, he said truthfully, "Yes, I do. You work here, right?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, smiling. "Can I join?"

For a moment, his sluggish brain did not process what she was asking about, and that made him frown. The girl probably comprehended what it was about because she explained, reading his confused expression. "...the table".

"Oh," he said, feeling more than embarrassed for his dumb reaction. "Yeah, help yourself."

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling out the chair to make some room for herself. "Tough night, huh?"

The inquiry made him suddenly realize she must have witnessed the whole scene yesterday -- him asking her for a favor, Narcissa drilling her out for any clues about his disappearance, his arrogant attitude, and scurrility as he spoke to her. For sure, if she were smart enough, she would deduce what the situation was about.

He couldn't help it, but a wave of shame pierced through his body, and his stomach rolled slightly.

"A little," he answered minimizing a dimension of the spree, almost like a lie, and then he shook his head. "Listen, sorry about yesterday. I might have been...rude."

A small smile of courtesy formed on her lips. "I presumed you were a little off. Happens..." she said tentatively, gripping both of her hands together. "Oh, and about yesterday -- you lost this at the lobby." She took his wand out, and Draco's stomach made a second roll, the heartbeat hastening like a speed of light. He quickly tried to bring his face to the natural expression, but the girl had noticed that, and curiosity filled her eyes. "I thought I should give that back. In case it was valuable or something."

Fucking great... How was he supposed to elucidate that?

His throat felt so dry he couldn't let out a word of excuse. The moment was so mortifying to him he just reached for the familiar wand and nodded politely in gratefulness.

"Mhm..." Draco hummed, barely audible and momentarily deflated. "It's just... Something I've been training with..."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dolt?!

"Oh," the girl unconsciously flipped her hair off the shoulders, probably trying to make sense of the information. Furrowing her brows, she put her hand under the chin. "Are you a magician?"

"Kind of..." he agreed, not happy about the reputation he had just created for himself, but at the same time satisfied he didn't have to make up more explanations.

Luckily for Draco, the uncomfortable pause was rescued by the arrival of the food -- thank Merlin -- and even though he hadn't been hungry at all, now he felt an unexpected appetite to eat up the awkwardness. The girl probably caught a hint it was about time to end an encounter because she grunted.

"Listen," the girl started, clearing her throat yet again. "I better get going. But..."

The next thing Draco knew was that she was reaching to her pocket again, this time taking out something similar to a quill, only without ink. He assumed it must some kind of muggle invention, only a mechanical-like version. The girl uncorked it and suggestively drew out her hand, clearly signifying he should bring his hand closer as well. He obediently did.

"France is a big city," she said, glancing at him and sounding serious. "If you ever needed someone to show you around, let me know."

Without any preamble, her soft, delicate fingers grasped his forearm (he made sure to give her the right one), and with a few scrawls on his skin, she looked at him merrily, blushing slightly, and then left a table.

He stared after her for a while, looking at her curls bouncing behind her back as she walked away at a slow, monotonic pace. After a few seconds, she disappeared out of his sight, letting him finally peek at the note she had left:

'Call me, Y/N,' and a nine-digit number attached.

XOXOXO

A/N: I know this part might have contained too little Draco x Reader momento, but I promise it’ll get better as a plot develops. Also -- is it only my impression, or is Narcissa as changeable as the weather in Germany lol.

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